11 - UNTI)GDO) JOURNAL jfanitlp artutipaper—DeboteTl to General *ntelliaence, abberttoina, ;Politico, 7Litcrature, pitoralito, Rrto, abctenceo, glartculture, farattoement, geraza. a z-_vau. eDeD. PUBLISIIED ET JAMES CLARK. ®u ma The "Joint,st" will be published every Wed hesday morning, at $2 00 a year, if paid in advance, bud if not paid within six months, $2 50. No subscription received for a shorter period than six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar reararrtTsmreepeanisi‘t. A not exceeding one square, will be Inserted three times for $1 00, and for every subse quent insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are given as to the time an advertisement is to be continu ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac cordingly. POETRY. To charm tho languid hours of solitude He oft invites her to tho Muse's lore." THE ACCEPTED. DT THOMAS BATHES BAYLEY. I thank you for that downcast look, And for that blushing cheek; I would not have you raise your eyes, I would not have you speak. Though mute, I doom you eloquent, I ask no other sign; , While thus your lily hand remains Confidingly in mine. I know you fain would hido from mo The toll talo toars that steal Unbidden furth, and half betray The anxious fears you feel. From friends long tried, and deeply loved, The plighted bride must part, Then freely weep—l could not love A cold, unfeeling limit. I know you love your cottage home, Where in the summer Limo Your hands have taught the clematis Around the porch to climb. Your casement, with the wild rose screen, Your little garden too, How many fond remembrances Endear them all to you. You sigh to leave your mother's mo i Though on my suit she smiled, And spurning every selfish thought Gave up her darling child. Sigh not for her, she now may claim Kind deeds from more than one, She'll gaze upon her daughter's smiles Supported by her son! I thank you for that look—it speaks [(Allem° on my truth, And never shall unkindness wound Your unsuspecting youth. If fate should frown, and anxious thoughts Oppress your husband's mind Oh ! never fear to cling to me,— I could not be unkind. Come look upon this golden ring-- You have no cause to /Mink, Though oft ' tis galling as the slave's Indissoluble link! And look upon you church tho placo Of blessing and of prayer; Before the altar hear my vows; Who could dissemble there. Come to my Ironic, your bird shall havo As tranquil a retreat, Your dog shall find a mating placo And slumber at your feet. And while you sit at evening Oh ! let me hear you sing, Or I shall think you cease to love Your little golden ring. Woman's Love. The Poem on enthusiasm by John J. Lewis, Jr., of Pen Yon, N. Y., which received tho premium offered by the publiehers of the N. E. Galaxy for the best Poem, is a production of superior order. 'The following is a passage from this Poem: ' , But Wom Jai 'l4 Love, a treasure richer far, Than all the trophies of the victor are ; Oh let the heartless, selfieh wordlings deem, That 'tis the fancy of an idler's dream ; frigid Platonist may preach in vain, , ria but the fiction of the poets brain; His frozen heart could never taste the bliss Of mother's love, or gentle ouster's kiss, .Sweet ae the moss in its early blush, Is hor affection in its first warm gush, Ltke sparkling ruby, in its crimson glow, Or silver founts which in the sunbeam flow, "Pie like the snow upon the Alpine height As pure, as stainless, and as dazzling bright; A talisman of virtues rich anti rare, Tho brighest jewel happy man can wear. Its clinging fondness never is estranged, It ever burns unchangable, unchanged. Nor chilled by time, nor overcome by fear, It aoothes the soul, and dries the falling tear, So mi Id and beautuous, ardent yet so calm, Purer than air, more healing than a balm, Enthusiasm tests its lasting truth, In womatesheart, it reigns in age and youth. In every changing circumstance of life, Child of enthusiasm, mother, maid or wife." A OR6AT nxiorows, (says the St. Louis Re veille) in an exchange paper relates, in a very touch ing verse, the opposite fate of two early friends, The little tale Las a great moral : Ono took a paper, and his wife Was happier than a king's ; His children all could read and mite, And talk of men and things. The other took no paper, and While strolling through the wood, A tree full down upon his crown, And killed hint—as it should. lied he been reading of the now. At home, like neighbor j int I'll bet a cent that accident Would not have happened hum, 2=IUII 4 I' , U'UCMI.S EPts3. 9 SaV a z:LEE343O. KNOWLEDGE. Br TILY. LION. U. O. PINCKNEY. " Who can estimate the difference between civil hoation and savagoisna—between the refinement of a European city and the crepuscular light of an African horde—between the American nation, as it now stands in all ito splendor and its power, and and the aboriginal inhabitants of this continent, as they gazed with wonder at the appearance of Col umbus? What is there great or good, elegant or useful, for which mankind are not indebted to the influence of learning? It has reared up cities, and founded empires. It has conqured the earth, the sea, and the air, and subjected them all to the will of man. It has filled the earth not only with com forts, but with luxuries—not only with needful things, but with an endless variety of pleasures.— It has perfected, equally, tho art of war, and the arts of peace. It regulates the movements of ar mies, and controls tho destinies of nations. It nav igates the ocean, spans the cataract, and reclaims the forest. It elevates vallies, and depresses hills. It introduces nations to each other, and imparts to all the peculiar products and commodities of each. It unfolds the mysteries of nature, and teaches man to " look throngh nature up to nature's God."—lt enchains the lightning, converses with the stars and traces comets in their fearful course. It sub jects the elements to this power, and rides, like a conqueror, over earth and sea, by the magic power of resistless steam. It is seen in the canal, in the tunnel, and the acqueduct. It is seen in the ele gant mansion, and the noble ship, in the command ing fortress, and the lofty spire. It is seen in the breathing canvass, and the speaking marble. "It is seen in the wisdom of philosophy, the usefulness of history, and the elegance of poetry. It calls up the spirits of the mighty dead, and makes us acquainted with the traveller and accompanies the adventurous explorer in his voyage of discovery. It instructs us in the customs and religion, the laws and policy, of every people upon earth. It devolves the arcane of the human mind, and the wonderful structure of the human frame. It restores health and prolongs existence. It ascertains tho causes of disease, applies a remedy to every ill, and vindicates the divinity of the healing art. It expounds the tenent, and enforces the sanctions of religion, It is seen in tho power of eloquenco over the passions of tho multitude, us it now rouses them to fury, and now subdues them to calmness. It is felt in the megio influence of poetry, as it ani mates war or melts to love, as it nerves the patriot in his country's cause, or "takes the captive soul, and laps it is Elysium." But who can describe the power, or the domain of learning! Extend ing over all nature, its power is over everything in tho material world, and in the human heart. It is the peculiar and distinguishing attribute of man.— It is the pride of youth and the companion of old ago—the grace of prosperity, and tho consolation of misfortune. It conducts man with dignity through the chequered scones of life, and teaches him how ho may enter, finally, through the gloomy ',oasis of the grave, into tho blissful mansions of eternal rest. Such, and so great are tho urea, and advanta ges of knowledge of which it may be truly said that, like the decorated pillars of a temple, it con stitutea equally the strength and beauty of the great structure of society." OLD PSALK Tunas.—There is, to us, more touch ing pathos, heart-thrilling expression, in some of the old psalm tunes displayed, titan in a whole batch of modernism.. Thestrains go home, and the "fountain of the great deep is broken up"— the great deep of unfathomable feeling that lies far, far below the surface of the world-hardened heart; and as the unwonted, yet unchecked tears, start in the eye, the softened spirits yield to their influence and shako off the load of earthly care, rising puri fied and spiritualixed, into a clearer atmosphere.— Strange, inexplicable associations brood over the mind the far-off dream of Paradise," min gling their chaste melancholy with musings of a still, subdued, more cheerful character. How many glad hearts in the olden time have rejoiced in these songs of praise—how many sighed out their com plaints in those plaintive notes, that steal sadly, yet sweetly on the ear—hearts that, now cold in death aro laid to rest, around that sacred pile, within whose walls they had so often swelled with emo tion .--Blackwood. TUE Liar CO3IFORT..--q have taken much pains,' says the learned Seldun, to know everything that was esteemed worth knowing among men ; but with all my disquisitions and reading, nothing now remains with mo to comfort mo at the close of life, but this [passage of St. Paul: 'lt to a faithful say ing, and worth} , of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ cause into the world to save sinners: To this I cleave and herein I lind rest.' A SEASONABLE P.m.. usru.—We find in a Southern paper a paragraph shooing in this wise; —" It is pleasant in a sultry summer's day, to leave the dusty thoroughfares of trade, and sit down be side some bidding spring, the margin of which is carpeted with green and tender turf, while overhead the tall family of the forest onweave their rustling branches, forming huge Gothic arches while through their itisterstics a beam of sunshine descends in sof- Wiled glory." A young Irishinon who had married when ho was about 19 years of ugo, complain , " of the diffi culties to which his early marriage had subjected him, said he would neerr marry to young again if ho lived to be as old as :%lethuselah.—Very likely, . . Tho lato Earl Grey. The death of this distinguished English noble man, announced by the last arrivals from Europa, takes from the list of the living the last man whose name was connected with that brilliant circle of statesman who rendered the court of George the Third so celebrated. Descended from an ancient family, educated at Eaton and Cambridge, and el ected to the House of Commons, before his major ity, he early commenced a career which proved as brilliant as it was protracted. Ho was one of the managers of tho impeachment against Warren Hastings, and gave the first indications of his splendid powers as a debater during the discussion in 1787 of Pitts' treaty with France. Ho was Secretary of Foreign Affairs in 180 G under Mr. Fox's administration, and in 1830 became Prime Minister. During his administration Lord Drough lean was Lord High Chancellor and the celebrated Reform Bill was passed. The circumstances of its final passage aro thus given in the Lifo of Lord Eldon 'Thu House of Lords, re-assembled on tho 7th of May, proceeded, the sumo afternoon, to commit the Reform Bill. In committee, the ministers were de feated on a motion, made by Lord Lyndhurst, to postpone the disfranchising to the enfranchising portion of the bill: and thereupon. under all the circumstances of tho case, they judged it expedient to acquaint his majesty, that unless he would an. nounco u resolution to create such a body of new peers as would carry the measure into the form which its authors deemed essential, they must re quest him to accept their resignations. The king at first resisted; but, after some days had been un successfully occupied by him in an endeavor to form a new government, ho found himself under the ne cessity of re-establishing Lord Grey's ministry on their own terms. It was now intimated to the leading opponents of the bill ins the House of Lords, that the proposed creation of peers could be pro- I vented only by tho forbearance of a sufficient num ber of them from any further opposition to the measure before the House. The Duke of Newcas tle, on 21st of May, gave notice of a motion res.' pecting the fitness of ouch an exercise of the pre rogative ; and a conversation arose, in the course of which, Lord Eldon argued that though the existence of the prerogative could not be questioned, it was open to tho Heim to question the fitness of its exercise on any particular occasion ; and pro tested against the application of it for the purpose now threatened, as being at once injurious to the people and perilous to the crown. There remained; however, but a choice of evils. Lord .6 klun and the anti-sufw,..‘. us general, re. eolved, therefore, to abstain from further resistance, and the bill went rapidly through committee. On the 4th of Juno it was read a third time, after a di vision, in which 10 supporters of it recorded their votes against only 22 of its opponents. Tho re mainder of those adverse to it persevered in the quieter policy of absenting themselves, and so saved tire peerage, with what else was left of the consti tution.' Earl Grey after his retirement from the ministry, was a liberal member of the House of Lords. The early assnciate of Pitt, Fox, Burke and Sheridan, ho outlived them all and died full of years and honors. The brilliant Macaulay thus speaks of him in an article on \Farrell Hastings : 'At an ago when most of those who distinguish themselves in life aro still contending for prizes and fellowships at college, he had won for himself a conspicuous place In Parliament. No advantage of fortune or connection was wanting that could set off to the height his splendid talents and hie un blemished honor. At twenty-three he had been thought worthy to be ranked with the veteran state.- ' men who appeared us the delegates of the British Commons, at the bar of the Britislt nobility. All who stood at that bar, save him alone, are gone— culprit, advocates, accusers. To the generation which is now in the vigor of life, ho is the solo rep resentative of a great ago vrhielt has passed away. But those, who, within the last ten years, have lis tened with delight, till the morning sun shone on the tapestries of the House of Lords, to the lofty and animated eloquence of Charles Earl Grey, aro able to form somc estimate of the powers of a race of people among Ile whom'wes nut the foremost. Cs'virtue Ann PROTESTANT.-Porhaps every man may not understand or appreciate the force of reason for believing in the Roman Catholic religion contained in the following conversation which took place a few days since between a couple of hod carriers, while they wore routing from their labours at noon : P.—. An' d'yo mano to toll mo that the Catholic is thin only truo religion?" 11. C.—. Faith on' I do. D'yo believe in the episthles of the Apostle Paul, darlint 1" P. Of courso !" R. C.—" Arruh, than I have ye, cure ! D'ye mind the epistlilu of St. Paul's to the Romans ? An' did yo ever hear of any episthle to the Protest ants 7" ALL Maul., DoeTon.—A gentleman having a bad leg was told by a physician that ho must not drink, or tho liquor would run into . it. Ono day the doctor called on hint and found hint with his bottle before him, out of which ho had drank pretty freely. 'Ah!' exclaimed the physician, 'What did I tell you 'All right, doctor,' said the invalid, pointing to hio feet elevated upon a high table ; 'it cant run down my leg ! God seen in all his Works. In that beautiful part of Germany which borders an the Rhino, there is on noble castle which as you travel on the',Western bank of the river, you may see lifting its ancient towers on the opposite aide, above the grove of trees about an old as itself. About forty years ago, there lived in that castle a noble gentleman, whom we shall call Baron -. lle had only one son, who was not only a comfort to his father, but a blessing to all who lived on hit father's land. It happened on a certain occasion that this young man being from home, there came a French gentle man to see the castle, who began to talk of his heavenly Father in terms that chilled the old man's blood: on which the Baron reproved him saying, 'Are you not afraid of offending God, who reigns above, by speaking in such a manner?' The gen tleman said ho knew nothing about God, fur he had never seen him. The Daron at this limo did not notice what the gentleman said, but the next morn ing took him about his castle grounds and took oc casion first to show him a very beautiful picture that hung on the wall. The gentleman admired the picture very much, and said, 'whoever drew this picture knows vary well how to use the 'My son drew that picture,' said the Baron. 'Then your eon is a clever man,' replied the gen, :My son,' replied the Baron ; .ho knows every plant, I may say from the cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop on tho wall.' 'lndeed; said the gontloman, .1 shall think very highly of !dm soon.' The Baron then took him into the village and showed him a small, neat cottage, where his son had established a school, and where ho caused all young children who had lost their parents to he re ceived and nourished at his own expense. The children in the house looked so innocent and so happy, that the gentleman was very much pleased, and when he returned to tho castle ho said to the Baron, 'what a happy man you am to have so good a son !' 'How do you know I havo so good a son I' .Becaueo I have seen his works, and I know that he must bo a good end clever, if ho has done all that you hays showed me.' 'B ut you have not Fent him.' •No, But I know him very well, because I judo of him by his works.' ofrue, replied the Baron, 'and in thie way judge of the character of your heavenly Father. I know by hie work' that ho is a being of infinite wisdom, and power, and goeuneee.- '!'ho Frenchman felt tiro force of the reproof and was careful not to offend the good Boron any more by his remarks. "So was nkliir."—'o you're a 'prentice !' said a little boy, the other day, tauntingly to his companion. Tho addressed turned proudly around, and while tho fire of injured pride and the look of pity was strangely blended in his countenance, coolly anawered—'So was Franklin This dignified reply struck me forcibly, and I turned to mark the disputants more closely. The former, I perceived by his dress, was of a .higher class of society than his humble yet more dignified companion. 'rho latter was a sprightly, active lad, scarcely twelve years old, and coarsely but cleanly attired. But young as ho was, there was visible in his countenance much of genius, manly dignity, and determinate resolution—while that of rho for mer showed only fostered pride, and the imagined superiorty of riches. That little fellow, thought we, gazing at our young hero, displays already much of the mea— -1 though his calling bo an humble ono; and though poverty extends to him her dreary, cheerio. reality —still he looks on thu brightest side of the scene, and already rises in anticipation from poverty, woe and wretchedness! Once, 'so seas Franklin,' and the world may one day witness in our little , prentice' as great a philosopher as they have al ready seen in his noble pattern! And wo passed on, buried in meditation. Esorasu Giumuu.—Tho Comic Grammai But remember, though box In the plural makes buses, Tho plural of ox Should be oxen not oxen. To which an exchange paper adds, And remember, though fleece In the plural is fleeces, That tho plural of goose Aren't gooses nor geese. Wa may also bo permitted to add : And remember, though hens° In the plural is houses, The plural of mouse Should be viler rind not mouses, CHARITABLE HIGHWAYMAN. It is said o f Donner, a Highwayman, that onto riding on M c , high road,he met a young woman who was weep ing, and appeared to be in great distress. Touched with compassion, ho asked her what was the cause of her affliction ; when she told him that a creditor utttntled by a alma, had gone to a hum 'Merolla ad out, and threatened to take her husband to jail for a debt of thirty guinea.. Boulter gave her the amount, told her to pay the debt and fret her bus. band at liberty ; and she ran of loading the honest man with benedictions. Boulter, in the meantime, waited in the road till ho saw the creditor come out and then took from him the thirty guineas, and ay. erythiod he had about him. Rely on Yonrself. R'i'o often hear young men complain that they are born poor. Very well ; what barn? Look around you and you will find that nine-tenths cf our rich men were, in early life, not worth a cent ; console yourself, then, with the reflection, that if the past is any guarantee fur the future, 3 our chan ces of being wealthy are better than if you bad been born rich. The fact is, while you ought to have been up nud doing, you have been crying to Jupiter to help you out of the mire with the wheel- Rely on yourself. Consider that, in this world, where every man is striving his best to outdo his neighbor, you will have to wait forever if you trust the advancethent of your fortunes to others. The old Greek begun to carry the calf when young, and became eventually strong enough to bear a bull. Do you, like hi.n, go to work in earnest, and by and by you will be estcnished to sea what you can do. Tho great secret of the failure of the rich man's sons in life, is this they depend on their father's wealth, lose all energy, enterprise and in dustry, nod aro, at lust, in spite of their advantages, distanced by those who have been stript and girt for the raco for years. We once read a story, wheat , hero took for his motto,—"Push;"—aml whenever any difficulty met him, rind he felt his heart sink ing, ho whispered !push' to himself', and went to work resoluta on success.—What made 'Napoleon so great a man! It was his irons will, quite as much so his genius. Your mon who have no minds of their own, and aro unable to rely on them. selves, are liko children in go-carts, who, the mo ment the support is gone, tumble headlong. We love a sturdy, determined boy at school, Oven if ho is a littlo obstinate ; for we know he will get along in the world, All your great reformers have been men of resolute wills. Luther would have failed in the crisis of his fate, had he not said ho was go ing to Worms, though it should rain Duke Georges nine days in succession, and every roof bo tiled with devils. When the charges of French cavalry broke in among theßritish squares at Waterloo, like successive waves before Eddystone, in the tempes tuous sea, Wellington exclaimed, 'Gentlemen we must die at our post; there can bo no retreat , and it was that heroic resolution, and that only, which won the day. And this is this secret of all success. Take our word for it, young man, unless you make upyour mind to rely on yourself, you will never achieve any thing worthy of inanhood.—Ncal's Gazetic. Bacherlorism. Men may say what they will, but we know that there can never bo a paradise without some dough• ter of Eve within it : and home is only a place to eat and drink, and sit and sleep in, without the hal lowing charms of woman's presence. Men may say what they will about the jovial freedom of their Liberty Halls, but many a weary joyless hour pass es within them ; many a discontented, peevish, snarlish feeling is experienced, many a vacuum of heart and thought, many a comfortless rainy day, many a long winter evening, when the tickling of the clock is the only sound, and that does but echo like the knell of departed moments that might have been joyous if spent in cheerful companionship. And then for the lonely old bachelor to coma into his house wet and weary, without a creature to wel come him with either a word or a smile, or a single gleam of pleasure, to brighten the place ; nobody to consult his tales or his comforts, nobody to prat tle to him, to tell him the gossip of the neighbour hood, to link his sympathies and his interests with surrounding people, no body to double Iris joys or to halve his sorrows; nobody to nurse him if ho be sick, to consolo him if he be sorrowful : and then as as time creeps on, and ago overtakes him, to hear no joyful prattler near him, and to leave, at last, nono behind to lament hini—heigho ! Seed Wheat. Wo aro told, that in the Island of Jersey, tog land, where the farmers sell their produce and live upon the refuse, it is ctistorriary for them to tie their wheat in small sheaves, and by striking each twice or thrice across a barrel while lying on its ciao on the floor, a superfine sample of wheat is obtained for market, the sheaves are thrown by, to be clean thrashed in the evenings of winter by lamp light. I have just met with the account of a farmer in Vermont, to whom his neighbors resorted for the purpose of securing seed wheat of a superior qual ity, very fins in appearance, remarkably productive, and of early maturity; ho readily command three dollars per bushel, when the price of wheat wee a dollar and a quarter, calling it the rod and genuine Barrel wheat. DM the secrei was at last discovered ; he used, before thrashing his wheat, to aelect the best sheaves, and striking thorn over the side of the curtly barrel as it lay on the floor three or foUr times, before laying them down to be clean thrashed, ho obtained in this very simple way a Very superior seed wheat, which the whole coveted at a double price. Thus the largest and ripest kernels were separated and collected withont labor or difficulty, and Li profitable business was carried on until his neighbore discovered how to make .Barrel wheat' Ifur theinselves.—Boslon Cultivator. Sam Slick's idea of a good 117fc.—he hadn't no car for music, Sum, but she had a capital ro for dirl,and for poor folks that's much better. /co one never seen as murk dirt in my house as a tly couldn't bruah off with his wings. Ltostin gals may boast of their spinets, and their otitis, and their eliclal ian airs and their ears fix music--but give me the rl, I say, tl.at has an ova 150 nit., for she's the gal fur tr y mums„ \sp..taaQxeazis zzy The Age of tho Tho London despatch say s:—A pleasant, cheer ful, lively, generous, charitable-minded woman never old. Iler heart is ar young at GO or 70 as it is at la or 20; and they who are old at GO or 70, aro not made old by time. They are made old by the ravages of passions, and feelings of en unso ciable and ungenerous nature, which have canker ed their minds, wrinkled their spirits, and withered their souls. They nrc made old by envy, by jeal ousy, by hatred, by suspicions, by uncharitable feelings, by slandering, scandalizing, ill-bred habits: which, if they avoid they preserve their youth to the very last ; so that the child ehall die, no the Scripture say, a hundred years old. There aro many old women who pride themsel4s on being eighteen or twenty. They carry all the character istics of ago about them, without even suspecting that they are old women. Nay, they even laugh _ and sneer, and make themselves merry with such mirth as malice can enjoy—by sarcastic reflection 4 upon the ago of others—who may step in modestly between them and admiration, or break down tho inonoply of attraction which they have enjoyed for a season, either in imagination or reality. Pride is an old passion, and vanity is as gray as tho moun tains. They are old women that have much of either. They arc dry, heartlees, dull, cold indiffer mt. They want the well spring of youthful etrec lion, which is always cheerful, always active, al ways engaged in some labor of love which is cal culated to promote and distribute enjoyment.— They pine, re-pine, sigh and glean ; they yawn , and stretch thernielve, they murmur, grumble, long, fret, frown; they snap, carp and vapor.— They go to bed in tho morning, they breakfast ir ! bed; they find fault with this, and the other thing ; they make their own childien run'avVaY from them and take refuge in the cellar, or the back kitchen, or any other place that they may rid them of the old woman ! And the children on such occasions also cull them old, by an instinct of nattire. Old I woman, old lady, old grim face, old gripe, or any nickname with the epithet of old prefixed to it, is as commonly applied by children to bad tempered mothers, nurses, or aunts, as pretty, kind, sweet. dear, and youthful epithet's, aro instinctively ap plied to the good-humored grandma with her wrink led face. Thera is an old age of tho heart which is possessed by many, who have no suspicion that there is anything old abont them, and there is n youth which never grovis old, a Love which is ever a boy, a Psyche who is over a girl; A beautiful Climate, Hastings, in his description of Upper California, says that the climate of the Western section, is that of perpetual spring. The mean tomperaturn of the year in about 61 Farenheit ; that of spring 66 ; that of summer 70 ; that of autumn 67; and of winter 61. 'rho mean temperature of tho warmest month is 74; that of the coldest winter month, 48. This statement applies to latitude 37 north. The rainy season is confined, generally, to the winter Months; end during winter the weather is alternately mini and clear. Sufficient moistum accumulates in win , for to matam all the ctcp,. Prom there facts, it may be judged that tho Cli mate is healthy. It is remarkably so. So pure id the atmosphero that overt in summer, fresh Meat may be hung several weeks in the open air, without becoming tainted. In fact, disease is acareely knoWn in that country. Cases of bilious fevers are eo mil 4 that the patient does not usually resort to tuedi,al ail Ferrous thus attacked seldom resort to any other rime dy than to abstain from food for a few days, or going to tho coast. A peculiarity of this climate is, that mast of the fruits of the tropical and temperate zones, aro pro. duced here in perfection. Wheat, oats, rye, barle7 corn and tobacco, cotton, carte and rice, succeed well ; so do our northern vegetables and fruits, as well as pomegranalcs,orangcs, lemons, citrons, dates, &c. &c. California is too good a country to bo occupied I'l a few Indians and ignorant and debased Mexicana. 13Ar.—A young lady was lately fined at New Orleans fur wearing p . antaloone. The justico insi.ted that girls had no business with these ar ticles, and that it belonged entirely to married wo men to wear breeches." Duelling. Answer h a rkiilkngc.—i'lle eccentric 11. H. Breckenridge, ono of tho Judges of the Supremo Court of Pennsylvania, when u young Man, woo challenged to nOit a dire% by in English officer, whorn he answered as follows : havo objections to this duel matter—the ono is lest I should hurt you, and the other is lest you should hurt me. Ido not see any good it would do to put a ball through your body. I could Make no use of you when dead for any culinary purpose, us I would a rabic or a turkey. I ant its cannibal to feed on the llesh of men. Why theit shoot dawn a human creature, of whom I could make no use I A bank would make better meat. For though your flesh might be delicate and tender, yet it waits the firmness and constancy which takes and retains salt. At any Tato it would not do fur a lung sea voyage. : . • . • : . 'You might make a good harbacne, it trite, Ist • lag of the ming° of a raccoon or opossum ; but people a.te not in thu habit of barbecuing anything that is human now. And on to your hide, it is not wroth taking off, Icing a little better than a two year old colt. So much for yeti'. As foi myself, I do not like to stand itt the way of anything that is hurtfUl. I not under the impression that you might hit too. This b,ing the case, I think it most ad visable to stay ut a distance. If you want to try yoiir pistols, take route ohjeet, a tree, or a barn door about my dimensions. If you hit that, send me and I acknowledge that if I hid bevn, in the place rot 4111;1J .doc, hs. Lot