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iftotitr naoopaper—ZietioteV to Central iattetitgener, iCibtiertfolita, Volttiz litcraturc, Storalito, Szcienteo,fafirlcuture,amitoentent, Szt.,
.C3rGOno Z.te Ec3CED. Eitio.
PUBLISHED BY
THEODORE H. CREMER,
7 U 3 cIisI:PUCCI.S:IIO
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POET:'S.7.
..To charm the languid hours of solitude,
He oft invites her to the Muses lore."
Scotch Songs.
WE GEORGE W. BETHUNE, n. n.
O, sing to me the auld Scotch songs,
the braid of Scottish tongue,
The sang., my father loved to hear,
The Range my mither sung,
When she sat beside my cradle,
Or crooned me on her knee,
An' I wad na' sleep, she sang sae sweet
The auld Scotch songs to me.
Yes! sing the auld, the geld auld sang*,
Auld Scotia's gentle pride,
0' the winmling burn, and the sunny brae,
An' the cosh, ingle-side
Xiang o' the broom an' heather,
Sang o' the tryating tree,
The lar'rocks lilt and the gowan's blink—
The auld Scotch sang. for me.
Sing ony o' the auld Scotch sang.,
The blithesome or the sad;
They make me smile when I am wee,
An' greet when I am glad:
My heart gams back to auld Scotland,
An' sent tears dim mine c'e,
But the Scotch hluid leaps in a' my veins,
As ye sing the songs to me.
Sing on, sing mair o' thee auk! tangs;
For ever ane can tell
0' joy and sorrow i' the pant,
Where mem'ry luves to dwell ;
Though hair win grey, an' limbs win auld,
Until the day I die,
I'll bless the Scottish tongue that sings
The auld Scotch songs to me.
CASSIUS M, CLAY,
We think our readers will thank us for giving
them today the manly letter of Cassius M. Clay
t ip
to the People of ky.
Engaged i • se. he writes and speaks
like a men int a holy spirit, and we find
It di ffi cult to r . the enthusiasm which his
burning words enkindle, even while referring to
them. His position is a glorious one. True to his
native soil, let who may falter there, true to the
great and fundamental doctrines which our Fathers
estahlished, true to himself and his fellow men, he
Mould do in his day what he may, to break the fet
ters of human thraldom, and elevate Kentucky and
her People to the full stature of Freedom. The
prayers and sympathy of the good far oft and near
will be with him I
We need not go into details on this subject.—
The letter of Mr. Clay will explain his course and
the policy of his friends. If left alone, if not fool
ishly of fanatically interfered with OUT of the State,
we feel confident that they will succeed, and era
long the work of Emancipation will be commenced
in Old Kentucky.—Cin. Gazette.
To the People of itentoldtp.
Whilst I was battling in the North, in a triangu
lar fight with Whigs, Abolitionists and Democrats,
for the postulate that " what the law makes proper
ty, is property," and that all good citizens should
abide by the law, till they can, in a legal and con
stitutional manner, conform it to their conscientious
standard of morality; the Southern press was Jr.
notmeing me as wishing to employ the army and
navy of the United States in the forcible liberation
of the slaves. The many calumnies, insinuations
against my fidelity to the lowa of the State allegi
ance, I shall not condescend to repel. I say to those
who are so insidiously attempting to prejudice me
in the confidence of the Whig party, that I shall not
palliate or deny; conscious of my own duty to the
American people, I have fearlessly discharged it;
and as I never played the sycophant to met. for the
make of office, though sacrificing some personal
pride in the cause of the political principles of that
party, to some portion of which I owe nothing, so in
defeat, I have nothing to deplore but the common
calamities of the country.
To the people of Kentucky I would humbly sug
gest that I am a son of one of the first pioneers of
the West—a man who, in an obscure way, render
ed noise service to his country, both in the council
and in the field ; he was one of the founders of the
State Constitution, and his services were not unap
preciated by those who have perpetuated his memo
ry, by giving his name to one of the counties of the
Commonwealth. I speak not of these things in a
vain spirit, or from overweening filial affections, but
to remind those men of yesterday, that they were
presuming too much upon popular credulity, and
their own significance, when they set themselves up
as the exclusive guardians of the honor and welfare
of the State, and undertake to denounce and intro-
else me as an enemy to the country. Having some
small interest in the soil. as well as in the good name
of the Commonwealth, with my humility and love
sof equality, / cannot but give utterance to som
Ut)
touches of contempt and indignation towards those
feeders on the crumbs that fall from other men's
tables, who affect so much sensibility about the
property of the country. If there in in our State
something improper or dangerous to be talked or
written about, I put it to every true and manly Ken
tuckian, if that thing in not improper and danger
ous in its existence among us? And if so, is he
who undertakes to remove the evil the enemy of his
country 1 Or rather, is not that man, who, seeing
the wrong, for the sake of popularity, and a narrow
self-interest, in opposition to the welfare of the great
MASH of the people, dares not attempt its extinction,
a traitor and a coward, and truly deserving the exe
cration of his countrymen? lam not ashamed to
admit that I am the most uncompromising foe of
tyranny, wherever displayed: and I proudly avow
myself the eternal enemy of slavery. At the name
time, experience•taught charity warns me to loose
none of my sympathy for the stave•holder, because
of his misfortune or his fault : and while I would be
just to the Slack, I urn free to confess, that every
feeling of association, and instinctive sense of self
elevation, leads me to seek the welfare of the White,
whatever may be the consequence of the liberation
of the African.
Bred among slaves, I regarded them with indiffer
ence; seeing no departure from morals or economi
cal progress in the tenure. The emancipation move
ment about 1830, affected me as it did most persons
at that time; and I felt some new and pleasing e
motions springing up in my bosom, when ! resolved
in common with my lamented brother, to liberate
my slaves. I authorized him to put my name to
the Emancipation Society, formed about that time in
Mercer county. In the Came year I went to Yale
College. in a free State. I was not blind, and there
fore saw a people living there luxuriously, on a soil
which here would have been deemed the high road
to famine and the alms-house. A city of ten or
fifteen thousand inhabitants rose up in the morning,
passed through all the busy strife of the day, afid
laid down again at night, in quiet security, and
not a single police officer was anywhere to be seen.
There were more than 500 young men congregated
from all climes, of various habits and temperaments,
in the quick blood of youth, and in all-conquering
passion, and there was not found in all the city, so
far as the public were aware, a single woman so
fallen as to demand a less price for tier love than
honorable marriage. A gray haired judge of seventy
years and more, in a life time of service, had pro
nounced sentence of death upon but five criminals
in a whole State, and three of these were brought
down to ruin by intemperance. I had been taught
to regard Connecticut as a land of wooden nutmegs
and leather pumpkin seeds—yet there was a land of
sterility without paupers, and a people where no
man was to be found who could not write his name,
and read the laws and his bible. These were
strange things; but far more strange, passing strange
will it be, Kentuckians, if you shall not come to the
same conclusion to which I was compelled. that
liberty, religion and education were the cause of all
thew things, and the true foundation of individual
ha, ;.iiiess and national glory. In 1835 I introdu
ced a common school bill into the House of Repre
sentatives of Kentucky ; it was lost. In 1838 I had
the pleasure of voting for the present common
school law, in common with a great majority of my
compeers. Before 1840 I was convinced that uni
versal education in a slave stets was impossible!—
Whilst I now write, the eight hundred thousand
dollars set aside, front the proceeds of the sales of
the public lands, for common schools, surreptitious
ly appropnated to internal improve men ts,confirm my
conclusion. There is not a cent in the great Com
monwealth of Kentucky, appropriated s to the edu
cation of her people ? C. A. Wickliffe, in a con
vention of teachers in 1840, at Frankfort, said :
"‘ If slavery and common schools be incompatible,
I say, let slavery perish." The sentiment was met
with tremendous applause. Men of Kentucky,
what say t you? Time has proved that they are
incompatible—not a single slave state has succee
ded, from the beginning, in the general education
of her citizens. Governor Hammond, of South
Carolina, says, in his message to the Legislature—
The free school system is a failure—owing to the
fact that it does not suit our people or our govern
ment." Experience and reason have long since
proclaimed the same unwelcome fact.
Whilst Mr. Wickliffe was speculating I was ac
ting. By aid of the law of 1833, I hoped ulti
mately to emancipate the State from ignorance, pov
erty and crime. Kentucky called upon all her sons,
by all the glorious memories of the past, by all the
fond hopes of the !Inure, to resist those who, by the,
repeal of that law and a retrogade movement, would
sink her into the everenduring night and lower
deep" of perpetual slavery. The time at last came ,
when I was to play the selfish time-server for office
temporary elevation, or, planting myself upon the
eternal principles of truth, justice and reason, look
ing to conscience, to posterity and to God, to fall
proudly in their cause. What though Ibe a fan
atic or an enthusiast' in holding that slavery is con
trary to the Declaration of American Independence;
the Constitution of the United States; the common
law of our English inheritance; and in violation of
the laws of nature and of God—the effect of it are
beyond all controversy; the monumental hand of
time in character. of horrible distinctness ; turning
the dewy heavens into brass, and scathing the
green earth with sterility and decay. The whole
South cries out with anguish against this and that
measure of national injury; implores and dentin
tea in alternate puerility; makes and unmakes pre-
sidents; enacts and repeals lawewith a petulence
and recklessness, more worthy of manly intligna
tion, titan the pitrableloWirraticrof the DOrth.--
Yet no relief comes to the sinking patient; her hy
pochondrical illusions are not dispelled; she can
not, she will not see that slavery is the cause of her
ruin. Her fields relapse into primitive sterility;
her population wastes away ; manufacturers recede
frotssthe infected border; trade languishes; decay
trenches upon her meagre accumulations of taste or
utility ; guant famine stalks into the shattered por
tals of the homestead: the hearth stone is invaded
by a more relentless intruder than the officer of the
law; and the castle that may stand before the sword,
falls by this slow, secret and resistless enemy ; the
blood of the body politic is frozen at the core ; a trophy
paralyses all its limbs; sullen despair begins
to display itself upon the case-warn faces of men;
the Heavens !and the earth cry aloud—the eternal
law of happiness and existence have ;been tram
pled under foot; i and yet with a most pitiable infat
uation, the South still clings to slavery.
The competition of unrequited service, slave la
bor, dooms the laboring white millions of these
States to poverty ; poverty gives them over to ig
norance; and ignorance and poverty are the fast
high roads to crime and suffering. Among the more
fortunate property holders, religion and morality are
staggering and dying. Idleness, extravagance, un
thriftiness and want of energy precipitate slave hol
ders into frequent and unheard of bankruptcies,
such as are unknown in free States and well order
ed Monarchies. The spirit of uncontrolled com
mand vitiates our temperaments, and destroys that
evenness of temper, and equanimity of soul, which
are the sheet anchors of happiness and safety in a
world of attainable desire and inexorable evil.—
Population is sparse, and without numbers there is
neither competition nor division of labor, and of
necessity, all mechanic arts languish among us.—
Agriculture drags along its slow pace with slovenly,
ignorant, feckless labor. Science, literature and
art are strangers here; poets, historians, artists and
mechanists, the lovers of the ideal, the great, the
true and the useful; the untiring searchers into the
hidden treasures of unwilling nature, making the
winds, the waters, the palpable and impalpable es
sences of things tributory to man : creating grad
fication for the body, and giving new susceptibility
and expansion to the soul ; they flourish where
thought and action are untrammeled; ever daring
must be the spirit of genius; its omnipotence be
longs only to the free. A loose and inadequate re
spect for the rights of necessity follows in the wake
of slavery. Duelling, bloodshed and Lynch law
have but security to person. A general demorali
zation has corrupted the first minds in the nation ;
its hot contagion has spread among the whole peo
ple; licentiousneas, crime and bitter hate infest us
at home; repudiation and the forcible propagand•
ism of slavery is arraying against us the world in
arms. I appeal to honesty, to reason, to nature,
and to conscience which neither time nor space,
nor fear, nor hate, nor hope of reward, nor crime,
nor pride, nor selfishness, can utterly silence—are
not these things true 1 A minute comparison of
the free and slave States, so often and ably made,
I forbear, I leave this unwilling and bitter proof to
each man's observation and reflection.
There is however, ono consideration which I
would urge upon all, because it excludes all fanat
icism and enthusiaain.' Kentucky will be richer in
dollars and cents by emancipation, and slave hold
ers will be wealthier by the change.
assert, from my own knowledge, that lands of
the sane quality in the free, arc from 100 to 150
per cent. higher in value than in the slave States;
in some cases probably six hundred per cent. high
er! Lands six tulles from Cincinnati, in Ohio, I
am credibly informed, aro worth $6O per acre,
whilst in Kentucky, at the same distance from that
city, and of the same quality, they are worth only
$lO per acre! Now the slave holders of the State
are, with rare exceptions, the land holders of the
State; they, therefore, absolutely increase their for
tune by liberating their slaves, even without com
pensation. Thus if I own 1,000 acres of land in
Fayette, it is worth $50,000: say I own 12 slaves
worth $5,000, the probable ratio between land and
slaves; if my land rise to the value of the free
State standard, which it must do, my estate becomes
worth (losing Cie value of the slaves, $5,000,)
$05,000. If it rises to $l5O per acre, three times
its present value, as I most sincerely believe it
would do in twenty years after emancipation, the
man owning 1,000 acres of land, now worth $5O
per acre, would be worth, under the free system,
$145,000. Now this assertion is fully proven by
facts open to all. Kentucky is the senior of Ohio,
by nearly one half of the existence of the latter.—
Kentucky is the superior of Ohio in soil, climate,
minerals and timber, to say nothing of the beauty
of her surface—and yet Ohio's taxes for 1843
amounted to $2,361,482 81, whilst Kentucky's tax
is only $343,617 66. Thus showing Ohio's siipe
rior productive energy over Kentucky, Ohio has
23 electoral votes to our 12, and outstrips us in
about the same ratio in all thing else. A compari
son of the older free and slave States will show a
more favorable balance sheet to the free label States;
whilst the slave States have greatly the advantage
in climate and soil, to say nothing of the vastly
greater extent of the territory of the slave state.
Massachusetts produces more in gross manufac
tures yearly, than all the cotton in the Union sells
fur! Let Louisville leek to Cincinnati, and ask
herself how many millions of dollars slavery costs
boil All our towns dwindle, and our farmers lose,
in consequence, all home markets. Every farmer
zaa34aeti.
bought out by the slave system, sends off one of the
consumers of the manufactures of the towns; when
the consumers are gone, the mechanic must go also.
A. has acquired another 1,000 acres of land, but
B. has gone to Ohio with the $50,000 paid for it,
and the State is that much the poorer in the aggre
gate. A. has increased his apparent means, hut
his market has flown to lands governed by wiser
heads than the land of slavery can boast. Beef
from Fayette, sold this spring in the city of New
York, for $6 per hundred, but the expense of a car
riage was $3 per hundred ; thus, for wont of a
home market, which cannot exist in a slave State
the beef raiser loses one half of Me yearly pro
ceeds of his faros. Slavery costs every man in the
community about the saw price—one half and
more of the proceeds of his labor, as the price of
hind has already shown!
Political diffiiculties thicken around us; war for
the perpetuation of this curse, threatens us in the
distance; dark clouds of bloodshed, dissolution,
and utter ruin, lower on the horizon; the great na
tional heart lies bleeding in the dust, under the re
lentless heel of the slave power! It requires no
very quick eye to see that the political power of
Kentucky is gone forever, unless she takes a new
tack and revives under the free labor system. Hav
ing, in truth, no common interest with the slaveliol
ding policy of the South, we bear all the evils of
the alliance, without any of the supposed compen
sating benefits which slavery confers upon the cul
tivators of rice, sugar and cotton. The South is
beginning to be supplied with produce from States
nearer them in distance and facilities in transporta
tion than ours, while she Is already too poor to buy
fears us; we look for markets almost exclusively to
Cincinnati, and New York, and New Orleans,
which last is but the outlet to the other nations.—
Until-Kentucky is prepared to go all lengths !for
slaverly, she is powerless; not pro-slavery enough
for " the chivalry," nor free enough for the free,
between two stools she flounders on the ground.
Christians, moralists, politicians, and merely let
live laborers feel these bitter truths. Kentucky
never will unite herself to the slave empire, born
of Southern disunion ; then let her at once lead on
the east of freedom. Is the cry of liberty coo pow
erful than slavery, to move the hearts of men 1—
Let us then be just and fear not. Let us littera to
our slays, and make friends instead of enemies for
the evalay ; for all the signs of the times proclaim
that tilt elements of revolution are among us, when
the crimi comes, if we are free, all will be safe; if
not, no man canoes the end. British emancipation
has gone before us, providing all things safe. The
price of lands in the colonies is admitted on all
hands to have risen in value, in spite of all the en
emies of freedom, these are the eternal and undis
putable proofs of successful reform. The day you
strike oil the bonds of slavery, experience and sta
tistics prove the prophecy of Thomas Jefferson, that
the ratio of the increase of the blacks upon a giv
en basis, diminishes, compared with the increase
of slavery; whilst the influx of white immigration
swallows up the groat mass of the African race, in
the progress and civilization of the more energetic
white. Amalgamation of the two races, so affect
edly dreaded by sonic pro-slavery men, is far less in
the free than in the slave States; this all men know
from observation ; what a little reflection would
have enabled theca, a priori, to have determined.—
Many of the more faithful and industrious slaves
may be employed by their quandum masters. whilst
the idle and vicious must Buffer the consequences
of their folly. Stealing will not increase, as some
argue, but be diminished, for vigilance will be more
active, and punishment more certain and severe.—
Lel candidates be started in all the counties in fa
vor of a Convention, and run again and again',
till victory shall perch on the standard of Me free.
Whether emancipation be remote or immediate, re
paid must bn had to the rights of owners, the hab
its of the old, and the general good feeling of the
people. 'Co those who cry out forever what shall
be done with the freed slaves, it will occur that up
on this plan, no more will be left among usthan we
shall absolutely need, for we have every reason to
suppose that many of the opponents of the move
ment will leave us before its consummation, taking
their staves with them ; and the State ought nut to,
if she could, at once deprive herself of the slave
laborers now here.
Then let us, having no regard to the clamors of
the ultras of the North or the South, move on un
shaken
in our purpose, to the glorious end. Shall
sensible men be forever deluded by the villy cry of
abolitionists;' is this not becoming not only riffle
titans, but contemptible? Can you not see that
many base demagogues hove been crying out wolf,
whilst they were playing the traitors to their party
and the country for personal elevation ? Is it not
time that some sense of returning justice should re•
vice in your bosoms, and that you should cease to
denounce these who in defeat do not forget their
integrity, and who, though fallen, do not despair
of the Republic.
Washington, Jefferson and Madison, and the
great fininders of the Republic are my standard
hearers: Liberty and Union is my motto. Never
yet has a Kentuckian deserted hie country's standard,
and fled to the field. Shall Ibe the first to prove
recreant the sentiment which should ever be up
permost in the bosoms of the gallant end the free,
when danger, no matter whether of the sword, or
more damning despotism threatens his nativo land.
Think through wham
Thy life blood tracks its present lake,
And then strike home!'
I have given my t:laves fo: the ptiblic
goad. Is more needed !—Tax me to the verge of
sustenance and life, and make my country free!—
I call upon all Kentucky to speak out upon this
subject ; let each men cams to the press in his own
name; let us hear others—hear all. Trust not to
those who in private whisper approval in your ear,
but denounce the open advocates of the same ad
missions. Ido nut profess to be infallible ; if I oat
wrong, show me right, no man will do more, suffer
more for conciliation. I listen to advice, I implore
counsel ; but neither denunciation, nor persecution
shall silence me; and so far as the voice of ono in
dividual makes up the omnipotence of public will,
I say, Kentucky shall be free. Let no man be star
tled; a few years ago most men looked upon sla
very as a matter of course ; a thing of necessity,
which was to live for centuries. Now, few are so
hardy as to deny that some 20 or 30 years will wit
ness its extinction.
The time is, in my judgment, yet nearer at hand.
A space of throe counties deep, lying along the
Ohio river contains a decided majority of the peo
ple of the State, as well as the greater part of the
soil. How long before slaves there will be, from ob
vious causes, utterly useless"! Soon, very soon,
will they find themselves bearing all the evils of
slavery, without any, the least remuneration. Does
any behove that they will tamely submit to this in
tolerable grievance I If slavery does not tumble
down of itself, they will vote it down, for they will
have the power, and it will be their interest to do
so. The rich interior counties of the State have
the least need of slave labor of any portion of the
globe. The mountains are ruined by the decreas
ing population of the lowlands, and the inability to
consume their products, where slaves abound. The
Green River country should remember if Pandora's
box was opened again upon mankind, two greater
curses and forerunners of poverty and ruin, than
slaves and tobacco, could not be found! Kentuck
ians, be worthy of your past fame—be heroes once
more. God has not designated this moat favored
land to be occupied by an inferior race. Italian
skies mantle over us, and more than Sicilian luxu
riance is spread beneath our feet,—Givo us free la
bor, and wo shall indeed become 'the labor of the
world" But what if not?—Man was not created
for the eating of Indian meal ; but the mind—the
soul must be fed, as well as the body. The same
spirit whiclt led Ild to the battle field, gloriously to
illustrate the national name, yet lives in the hearts
of our people; they feel their false position; their
impotency of future accomplishment. This weight
must be removed. Kentucky mast be'free.
CASSIUS M. CLAY
LEXINOTON, Ky., Jan. 1845.
eItrELTT slum, Ili K1N1.T98.--A young
woman in Vermont married a poor but worthy man
against her father's wish. He drove them from his
house, and closed his door and heart against them.
They carne down near Boston went to work and
prospered. After many years the father had occa
sion to come to Boston. He concluded to go and
see his daughter, expecting a cold reception.
. .
His daughter and hor husband received him most
kindly and lovingly. After slaying with them
awhile, he went back to Vermont.
One of his neighbors, hearing where he had beep,
asked him how his daughter and her husband had
treated them.
.1 never was no trotted before in my life," said
the weeping and broken-hearted father. . They
have broken my heart; they have killed me; I don't
feel an though I could live under it.'
What did they do to you?' asked the neighbor.
'Did they abase you
They loved are to death and killed me with
kindness,' said he. .I can never forgive myself
for treating socruelly my own darling daughter who
loved me so affectionately. I feel as if I should die
to think how I grieved the precious child when I
spurned her from my door. Heaven bless them,
and forgive me my cruelty and injustice to them."
Who does not see in this an infallible cure for
difficulties betiveeh man and man? There is not
a child nor a man on earth, who would not feel and
any that that daughter, though so deeply wronged
and outraged by her angry father, did right in trea
ting him frie she did. That father was her enemy
hut she was not his. Ho hated her, while she
loved him.
Tux Darns DAY.—Who does not wish, says
Miss Bremer, that a bright sun may beam on their
bridal day It seems to us as if Hymen's torch
could not clearly burn if it be not kindlred by the
bright tight of the beams of heaven. A secret be
lief that Heaven does not look with indifference on
our earthly fate remains constantly in the depths of
our hearts and however we may be dust and atoms,
yet we see, when the eternal vault is dimmed by
clouds or shines in splendour. in this change always
some sympathy, or some foreboding which concerns
us, and often, very often, are our hopes and our fears
—children of winds and clouds.
c - How binutifully has it been asked by an
eminent writer Is there to be found a gift of
heaven more precious, more worthy our most ar
dent gratitude, than that of possessing a family, a
home, where virtues, kindness, and enjoyments are
every day guests, where the heart and the eye sun
themselves in a world of love, where thoughts era
lively and enlightened, where friends not only by
word but by action say to each other—Thy joy. thy
sorrow, thy hope, thy prayer are mine r
Inquirer.
Filial Affection—An Irishman, swearing the
peace against his three sons, thus concluded his
affidavit: And this deponent further saith that the
only One of his children who showed any real filial
affection was his youngest son, Lary, for he never
struck hint when ho was down.'
%Wraaca)lices cit). 413.VV.
The Public Eye.
What sacrifices are daily made to propitiate th 4
public eye, to dazzle its scrutinizing glance, to avert
its scorn. The proud victim of poverty, emerging
from his garret, where, with squalid wont for his
companion, he lion a hundred times trotted of the
bitterness of death, smoothes down his knitted brow,
and calls up a smile to his care-worn features as he
passes into the street to encounter a crowd he knows
not and to whom he is unknown. God knows his
sorrows, but he is unwilling that they should be
seen by the public eye. The slattern wife, who
moves about her own dwelling in rags and filth,
careless of her husband's reproaches and indifferent
to his disgust, will spend hours to adorn herself for
a ball, in hope of winning an admiring glance from
the public eye. The hard man, whose soul is his
pervious to Charity, who coins his wealth out of
broken hearts, whose banker is 'loin, and whose
god is Gold, will do an alms in the market place--
that ho may attract the public eye. Virtuous wo
men, who would shrink front the whisper of a liber
tine as from the fangs of an aspen, have at the dic
tate of fashion bored their bosom to the common
gaze, and courted the licentious glance of the public
eye. The Fakirs of the East transpierce their
flesh with spears,or measure the length of a river by
successive prostrations, or hold their limbs in ono
attitude until they wither flesh and marrow, and
all that they may seem saints to the public eye.—
Nay, even the criminal on the gallows holds the tre
mendous leap he is about to take from life and light
into the inexplorable abyss, a secondary considers ,
lion to that of causing the public eye to dilate with
wonder at the boldness with which he encounters
death.—N. Y '!'rue Sun.
Those vino MAKE WAII SHOULD DO T. Fran,
mi.—Let rulers who crow so bravely, each on his
own dunghill, meet in single combat; and if one
kills the other, let the question be settled according
ly. If both are killed, let the next in authority
take the land in dispute.
Does this method of settling the difficulties ap
pear barbarous to the reader? lint is it not as
much better than war as the number engaged in the
deadly conflict is less? What is war but a duel
on a great scale? or, according to Jefferson, "the
unprofitable contest of seeing who will do the oth
er the most harm ;" which multiplies, instead of re
dressing injuries?
There is another thing in which war is more bar. ,
bnrous than duelling, which is, that in a duel the
principals fight out their own quarrels; but in war
they hire others to kill one another. vihohnow little
and care less about the quarrel. The object of the
common soldier is pay and plunder, with the license
to trample on all God's laws with impunity. With
the officer, the object is the exercise of arbitrary
power, and the praise of the vulgar.
When Allied the Great instituted the ordeal of
battle, it was a great advance on the barbarous nian- ,
ners of the age, and much better than those deadly
feuds, in which the parties involved not only them•
selves but all their retainers. Then why not adopt
a plan which, barbarous and unchristian al it is, Is
not so bad as war
DeAt-rlrre Attroorty.—A traveller who spent
some time in Turkey, relates a beautiful parable
which was told him by a Jervis, and which seems
even more bentitiful than Sterne's celebrated figure
of the accusing spirit and the recording angel.—
Every man, sail the Jervis, has two angels, one on
his right shoulder and one on his left. When ho
does anything good, tho angel on his right shoul-
der writes it down and seals it, because what Is once
well done is done forever. When he does evil, the
angel upon his left shoulder writes it down, but does
not seal it. He waits till midnight. If before that
time the mon bows down his head and exclaims
"6.mm:a ALL. !—I HAVE SINNT.D..-FORGIVE
me I' the nngel rubs it out ; but if not, at midnight
ho seals it, and the angel on the right shoulder
weeps.
JEALCInit AND BCDTLY.D.- . Plense widow Wim.
ple, ma says please lend her the biggest sweet per
tater you've got.'
• A sweet potato.'
.Yes'rn.'
Why, aint your ma going to Mrs. Wallapoes
party.'
Yeem.'
Aint she ready ?'
•Yetern—all but her hustle. She had to bile
her'n for dinner to day, and she wants the perteter
quick, cos she expects Dr. Possum right away'
Dr Possem! Ho going to call for the widow
Fizzle! Tell your can I har'nt a sweet potatoo hi
the house.'
Yes . m.'
That artful woman ! She (ion% got ho polatoo
of mine. Let her use corn cobs.'
Ne as Ito A BA it r.—The Buffalo Gazette relatei
that during the fire in that city a short time ago, a
police officer observed a woman making a great dis
play of hushing an apparent child, which she held
snugly to her bosom enveloped in a cloak. On be-
ing questioned by the officer as to what she had
there, she replied. • a darling baby, almost froze;'
but a peep under the cloak detected a fine roll of
dry groods, instead of the darling baby.'
The man who in worth millions of dollars
and never think. of bestowing any portion of it upon
the starving, destitute. suffering poor, is little ad•
vantage to any community.
j An exchange paper says that a lad of fifteen,
who saunters about rum-shops, smokes cigars,
chews tobacco, drinks wine, or foils in love with •
lady much older than himself, in rotten before ripe!'
According to the modern Jews, we are now in
the year of the world 5604, the church of England
considers it to be 5848 ; the church of Rome make.
the world to he 7044 years old, and the Septuagint.
7422 years. Prof. Wallace decides for the reckon•
ing of the Septuagint.
"Am I not a little pale 7" inquired a lady who
was rather short and corpulent, of a crusty old
bachelor.
You look like a big tub," wee the blunt re-
joinder.
a, THE 'mous that there is a chap down out
so cross-eyed that ho courts two girls at once, is
contradicted by one of the girls.
c - Mr. ' , ILIAC PR At, formerly a dealer in Bos
ton advertised himself thus :
I Pray, oppuoite the old South Church.•"