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Tfc Tiller the Mall.
. cv ivin I- KOATii.
A hfcrJy, suuburut maa it lie,
A hi'rdy, iulurnt man;
No etur.lier wan you'll ever eee,
Thoug u alt the "world you ecan.
la summer' heat, in aviator's cold.
You'll find hiuiat tie toil
Oi, fir above the kaighta of old.
Is lite Tiller of ll.e .oil!
No vteiclit) bars iuxrc hisuoor.
No oili-li iii dug aroui.d;
Hi walls no cannon tritie o'er.
No dead lie n hi grouud.
peaceful laborer in he,
lu&un ia rlartu'e turmoil
i'rou many crushing aorrow, free.
Is llieTilicr cf the Soil!
Ilia tract are seen ou every aide.
Hi baruaaie illlod with grain;
Though others bail not fortune's tide,
II labor not in vaiu.
The land give up it rich iucrvaae.
The sweet reward of toil ;
And blet will happiness and peace,
la the Tiller of the Soil!
He trudge out at break of day,
Aad lake hi way along;
And as he turna the yielding clay.
II eing a joyful eong.
He is no dull nnhnppy wight.
Bound in mifrt use's coil;
The amile i bright, the heart ia light.
Of the Tiller of the Soil!
And when the orh of day liaa crawa'd
With gold the Westcru ky,
Before his dwelling he i found.
With cheerful face by
With little laughing duplicate.
Caresses will not spoil;
Oh, jor at everv aid awaits
A hardy, sunburnt Man is he,
A hardy, sunburat maa;
Bat who ran lieast a haud ao free,
Aa he, th Tiller, ran T
Nor kumuicr's heat, uor winter's rold.
The power haa him to foil
On, far above the knighta of old.
Is the Tiller of the Soil!
ieaule M arala.
A vouug rote ia summer time
i beautiful to me.
And glorious the in my alar
That glifiimerou thesea;
But gentle word and loving heart.
And hand to clasp my own,
Are betterthait the f.iret flower
Or atara that erer ahoue.
The aun may warm the grass to life.
The dew the drooping dower.
And eye grow bright aad watch the light
Of autumn' o;euiug hour;
But word that breathe of teuderueo,
And smile we know are true.
Are. warmer lhau the summer time,
Aui brighter than the dew.
It i not much the world cau ir.
With all it subtle art,
Aad gold and gem are not the things
To satisfy the heart;
Lot. oh. if those who elunter rouud
The aitar aud t'ae hearth.
Have gentle word aud loving ami'e.
How beautiful is earth!
Larii aso, when th. Tuiks uvre still in
quiet pooseialon of the country, he livjd iu
this Village with his fadier and his only si
ter. Tne u'.J man was very a?ed ; end 10
the insunoiive hatred which the Greeks
seeai at ail La)-5.- to have felt towards these
the b a J.I.hJ all the i amour
which a lone life 01 connulsve submission
10 an abajir'tj y:kc and t. continued invdt
could net fail u produce. His son shared
taee feei;nes w'.ta all the suengh of a fierce
proud spTrit ; ntt -y his deueht'r, th sent'e
autlle-tyed Dap'n.e. Doubtless, like at
trie U.eck, S.V-- aihiicd lei coatjiivs Ia
very, ai.d hr IIleni.- blox' boiled within
her when hu father haJ t crow i define a
deies.ei -y.air, .i- l.trl.' Ij sluink
trembling lOui j.if Iir-ict Moslem's jjaze;
but the e(ro( the-young Aciimet, the onlv
son cf the vii!a;r- An, weie veiy mild and
getille; U.ey iic-ver Turn d rui her but with
a jra?e Irn eiopicnt and timid hit voice
at le;is: wa soi: anl I"v, and thnt voi e hail
told her that lie tvcd ii.i letter than any
thing on ariii ; and Daphne, though she
knew thd. : 'yvt hirn was to love persecu
tion and m:seiy ;uid death perhaps, yet
learned to fee! for him so dtj and passion
ate a tcudernes. that roui.fry, fattier, friends,
arid hoaie, aii lo: li.eir iiold on her young
heart, 8nd left U.ui reisriinz there alone.
Not profound was the attachment
felt ff her by the yoans Moslem ; but care-
fully, in ittuibline, u.d thy rouceal it from
all eyes, knowing too well that the disclo
sure would piOoablv injure their mutual
destruction for Daphne had but to look at
that vindictive old man. and stern, unyield
ing brother, to feel sure they never would
allow their blood to flow unarrested in the
veins of one allied to their country's foe
The young lovers succeeded, however, in
keeping their attachment secret, till they
found means to hnnz matters to a crisis.
Some suspicion had. it appears, long rank
led in the mind of the son ; but the father
himself had never dreamt that a few 30ft
whimpered words had made his child already
a renegade tr her country, till one fatal
moraine, when he ralivl for her as usual.
to bring hitn his pipe when lie rose, and for
the first time was unanswered. When this
aeetninzly trifling circumstance occurred, lier
brother, who was jwated beside him, started
up as though moved by some strong im
pulse, ! nd flew into the inner room, where
she ought to have been, but he found that she
was not there. It r.eqiiired but a moment
to complete his search, still ineffectual,
round the little garden and vineyard, whose
limits sne nan never narod to pas before;
J I - .1 t . I r i
sua lie mm returned io nis lauiers pre
sence to announce hci disappearance with
ao perfect a conviction of the truth that his
furious rage knew m bounds. He scrupled
not to communicate his fears to the father.
and the bitter tidings were as the falling of
tnunderuolt to the wretched old man
with a cry of rage and horror he bid his son
eo forth to seek her, and tear her living or
oeaa iroai ttieir detested enemy. I he in
furiated rxiau required no second bidding:
he dashed from the house, mounted his horse,
and was soon careering through the village
seeking the smallest indication of the route
the fugitives had taken. This for some time
seemed a vaiu attempt. Ath:et Aga was
known f be absent, but none could tell
whither he had gone ; at length a sufficient
clue W83 given hioi by an old woman, wlio
hsd paw?d the nirht on the plain, gathering
herbs by moonlight, the necessary ingredi
ent of s-wje infallible le nedy. She said
that ehe had been greatly tenified by a is
ion which had passed her she had first
teen a whirlwind of durt approiching, and
Mshe knew, according to a popular attper
titioa ia Greece, tLt each one of these
dJies, which the wind sometimes raises in
fantastic circles along the road, contains a
Jemcm, who wreathes himself in litem that
h may Jance therein unseen, she crouched
behind a bush, and ia3de !he sign of the
cross incessantly, whilst a h ige black horse,
beiring a double bardcu, flew past her at a
furious pace. The outraged brother only
peusod to ask in which direction they had
gone, and when she had pointed to the road
which led to Marathon, he vanished from
her aifht, etill faster than the ghostlv horse
man of the night before. 1
When be reached Urn village of Mara
thon it was already late in the evening; but
lie had no dilficulty in ascertaining lht-t
Achntet Aga had arrival that day, and had
retired within a Turkish tower belonging to
Ills father, which stood in an isolited posi
tion at some little distance. Thither he in
stantly repaired. It was surrounded by a
high wall, but this the Greek, youn and ac
tive, scaled in a moment, and dropped
lightly and noislessly within the garden
which it enclosed. The first sight that met
his eyes was his sister, who, in her fancied
security, had come to enjoy the cool even
ing air, beneath the shade ol Hie tnulDerry
treea. and was standi n? alone, evidently
waiting for some companion. There was
dim neat her. however, whom she dreamt
not of: her brother silently approached her,
and as he did so, he unsluug the carabine
that was stt aii?d ready-loaded on his shou
der. At the soiuid of his footstep t lose to
her, Daphne started, ami looked round to
meet his fierce eves, fimd on her with so
stern and rcsolue a gaze, that in one terri
ble look she read and knew her doom. 1 lie
extremity of terror lias generally the effect
of paralysing the faculties altogether; and
this was die case with ooor Daphne. Sh
stood as though transfixed, her great eyes
nveted on her brother, and mecnanicauy
following his every movement with a soil of
dreadful fascination. Vainly wotdd she
have striven to use her powerless limbs in
flight ; her bloodless lips relused even to ut
ter a cry, and acme invisible power seemed
to hold her there befou him, who now
deemed himself but the instrument of her
country's just rvenge. Calmly, not a mus
cle of his stem countenance moving, not
moment's dimne. moistened his angry eye,
her brother raised the musket to his shoulder,
adjusted it, took aim, and fired ! A few
stens onlv settarated those cliildreii of the
' . . i ..u f:l
same parent, ana tne stkh coma in iaui
the ball went straight to her heart, and wit
oue single groan -but not a groan that was
never foreotten bv him who heard it Da
phne fell lifeless to the ground.
lie did not wait to look on her ; rushing
from the spot, he once more leapt the wall
mounted his horse, and fled, as men fly who
bear with them die knowledge of a deed
like this. He rested not. till he teached
home, and stood once more br his father s
side. Unconsciously to himself, he sttmed
to have longed for the old man s coumicn
dation of this atrccious act, as a rehef to
theaharp sling which, in spite of every cf-
ft rt. nierced him now. lie knew not nu
Liau nauue when he cherished such a hope
It is true he had but done die old man's bid
ding ; but he w ent forth at the command of
th; patriot ; he returned to all the father he
had shin his child ! dreadful, therefore, was
indeed the punishment of the fratricide, for
the faihei cursed him with all the energy of
his despair, and then turned away to weep
and lament, and refuse all food, until he
drooped and died ; and thus was the misera
ble man lett alone with so heavy a remorse
and it has been to him as die avenger of
blood. 1 1 has tracked his steps and haunted
his r.illow. and dried up the sources of joy
and hope within him, till he seems to be
daily growing into the image ol the pnan
torn that pursues him. Wayfaring
Okt.trhft among the Gretks and lurks.
IrtMlNG ANIMAL LilfE is the w ilds
or .oirn am r sic a. uur canoe was
aiitin launched into the river, and, being
well tested, we urged it at a mpid rate up
the liver, which, occasionally from being
vei y narrow, would widen out and form a,
small lake cf very picturesque appearance,
fin;":-d along the bank with the most lum
rious timber and brushwood. The baik-
i itr an'I loaring ut me wild animals w&
incessant, though not unpleasing to out ear.
It was the natural music of the undistuibcd
forot. and we liked it. The only disa
EieeaMe f atme in the wild landscape
around us was the cntwling upon and along
the banks of the disgusting alligator, cov.
ered with mud out of the river. They
were hideous-looking creatures to look upon,
yet ave us no concern. They quickly g'Jt
out of our way as we approached anywhere
near them. In fact, they were quite timid,
and everywhere in tais province, thctigh
they would take advantage of a man lying
as'eeti or iu a state of inactivity, and drag
him into die water, yet diey seldom or nev.
er attack even a boy when he is in motion.
The trees on the margin of the water were
literally alive with parrots and monkeys.
Kingfishers ami vultures were occasiona'ly
seen perched on naked branches that here
and there overhung the water. As we pro
ceeded several miles up, and were moving
in a inoie open space, where the view ex
tended, the high moun'ains in the interior
occasionally showed themselves, the thick
brushwood began to disappear from the
banks, long grass and flags supplied its
place, and the forest lecame again more
open, with extensive plots of rich grass.
High and peaked rocks of strange appear
ance towered over the foliage, and looked
like spires, or some kind of artificial erec
tion. The banks of the river were now
either sand or gravel ; the watei shallow
and clear ; and as we passed along the
fish were jumping about gaily in the en
deavour to catch the large flies and winged
insects that buzzed along its surface.
Dr. Coulter's Adventure on the Western
Coast of South America.
A Staiaaaacr Right iaj tirrac.
It is indeed a wonderful thing, a suinmeis'
night in Greece, or radicr the space between
the setting and rising of the sun ; for it can
not be called night where there is no dark
ness, no dulling dews, no sleep. People
sleep during the hot languid hours of the
day, and they are thankful to wake, thnt
they may revive under the delicious influ
ence of the faint night-breezes, so mild, so
soft, that they seem to be but the gentle
breathing ol trie earth in its slumber ; we
cannot call it night, but ret it is not day,
though die whole heavens are glowing wiui
the intense brightness of the great stars,
hanging so motionless in the unfathomable
depths of dark unclouded blue, and the very
air is filled with light from innumerable
meteors shooting to and fro. It is not day,
for there is a solemn, a profound repose,
which day could never know ; the very spirit
of rest seems to go forth over the earth,
hushing not only winds and waves, but caus
ing every leaf on the sombre olive-trees or
green mrrtle-bushes to Le still, as though
spell-bound ; and the starlight, radiant as it
is, iias a softness which tempers all on the
wide-spreading landscape, that might be
harsh or abrupt in a more glaring light.-
Wherever it may be seen, a calm summer's
night is assuredly one of the most beautiful
thina in nature; but there is something pe
culiar in the influence it has on the mind in
Greece, which I have nowhere else expe
rienced ; there is such purity in the sky, tbe
air, the light, such a holy tranquility on all
uound, tint the strife of human life seems
suddenly stilled, the fire of human passion
quenched, and the most perturbed of spirits
could not fail to partake somewhat of so in
tense a rest. Wayfaring Sketches union e
the Greeks and Turks.
Am laMMralwa Barraw'a rmef ft pal.
"1 was on the forecastle, discoursing
with two of the sailors; one of them, who
hwl but just left his hammock, said, '1 have
had a strange dream, which I do not much
like, for,' continued he, pointing up to the
mast, 1 dreamt that I fall into the sea from
the cross-trees. . He was heard to say tins
by several of the crew besides himself. A
moment after, the captain of the vessel
perceiv'ng that the squall was increasing,
ordered the topsails to be taken in, where-
uiK'ir this man with several others instantly
ran alo t ; the yard was in the act of be
ing hauled down, when a sudden gust of
wind whirled it round with violence, and a
man was struck down from the cross-trees
into the sea, which was working like yeast
below. In a few moments he emerged; I
saw his head on the crest of a billow, and
iiiAtantly recognised in the unfortunate man
the sailor who a few moments before had
related his dream. shall never forget the
look of agony he cast whilst the steamer
hurried past him. I he alarm was given
and everything u us in coulu&on ; it was
two minutes at ln-t In-line the vessel was
stopped, by which lime the man was a con
sideratle way astern; 1 still, however, kept
my eye uimn him. aud could sae that he
was struiiiliug gallantly with (he waves
A boat was at length lowered, but (he rud
der was unfortiiuaicly not at hand, and
only two oars could le pax ured, widi which
the men could make but little progress in
so rough a sea. 1 hey did their best, how
ever, aud had arrived within ten yards of
the man, who still struggled for his life,
when 1 lost sight of him, and the men on
their return said dial they saw him below
Uie water, at glimpses, sinking deeper, and
deeper, his arms strttched out and his body
apparently stiff, but that they found it im
possible to save him ; presently after, the
sea, as if sal'iAned with die prey which it
had acquired, became comparatively calm
The toor fellow who perished in this singti
lar manner was a fine young man of
twenty-seven, the only son of a widowed
mother; he was the best sailor on board,
and was beloved bv all who were acquaint
ed with him.
laalill'a aalvlc 1st his Mm.
From lla.litt's advice to his son going
home from school, we select the following
item, which contains more sound sense, and
a deeper perception of human nature than is
dreamt of in every one s philosophy :
The World Do not begin to quarrel
with the world too soon ; for bad as it mav
be, it is the liest we have to live iu here.
If railiag would have made it better, it
would have been reformed long ago but as
.i? ..l-l i r. . ..i i
trus is not to oe nopeu lor at present, tne nest
.... . . . " .
way to slide through it Uas contentedly and
innocently as we may. The worst fault it
has, is tcant of charity, und calling knave
for fool at every turn will not cure tins ail
ing. lonsider as a matter ol vanity that
if there wore not so many knaves and fools
as we nnd, the wise and honest would not
be those rare and shinin
they are allowed to be ; and (as a matter
of philosophy,) that if the world be really
incorrigible in this respect, it is a reflection
to make one sad and not angry. We mav
aughor weep at the madness of mankind,
we have no right to vilify thum, for our own
sake or theirs. Misanthropy is not the
disgust of the mind at human nature: but
ui wiiiia. -.Aloiikiii v.it tuc I
:,'f. c,:, uv, .
iiii iun .i , iiri it ia jdji.ii; net uwii rAOJXr I
. i . i i- i i , r
others! Do not. however, mistake what F
have here .aid. 1 would not have vou
when you grow up, adopt dm low and sordid
fasliioii of palliating eiisnng abuses of put
ting the best face upon the worst things. 1
only mean that iin'i.scii.ninu'.e unqualified
saiire can do littlu good, and those who
indulge in the most revolting speculations
of human nature, do net themselves always
Stt fairest eiainphs, or siiive to prevent its
I br Kr I M Mow.
Time has been some little amendment f
Ul ill the lie til l ll.e I lllrllf ,A I Ii in
,i I. I ..-.
ami the iov lo which the event has triven rise
i neen anm.. mmnHnui urn In t 10 r.ivn
- sr . I
circle for all Uie tabulation and vexations
roiu without. It is said that she has at
ength found a new interest in life to divert
her mind from the morbid contemplation of
the sorrow winch has been sapping her very
existence. one has undertaken a work
suited to die gravity of her intellect, and
well calculated to emnlov the fruits of the
tudy and meditation to which she hasdevo-
... i . . . I
i1 herself liw th lt Tivp re. h i
hstorv of the Ph losonhv of the Midd e Ares,
and those who have been admitted to her in-
lunacy speak in the highest terms of the deep
research and powerful thinking displayed in
its execution. It is in occupations of this mai '"T" 1 uuni nnsuau re
nature, diversified by the Wperintendcncefinenn
of the education of her children, that the
rnvnl widow naitaea the u'linle nf her lva I
seeming not to have moved with time in his
m-osrreas. ince die hour which bereft her of
ope and happiness fell I ke a thunderbolt,
. ----- I
and crushed her as if to rise no more. Her
favorite boudoir at the Tuileriea. and from
hich she rarely stirs save to pay her even-
ine visit to the Uucen. is an exact counter,
part of Uie one allotted to her use at the
countrv nalace of L idwi?slnsf. u-her she
passed her happy childhood, and where she
first received the intimauoa that the choice
of the Pnnce Koval of France hd fnMen
; upon her. The small organ placed beneath
I wa i
the magnificent portrait of the Jaw Duke.
bv Intres. is the verv on. nnon w hich h
was nlaving a symphony bv Sabastinn Haeh
when her brother entered 'with joyous coun-
tenance to announce the news. .Sometimes I
attwilieht the nromenaders in the mrden
can hear the sounds of that organ and the
notes ol that very symphony as tliey come
through die open window like harmony from
Heaven. To those who know the tale it
seems the sad requiem of th? good and brave,
the evening prayer for his repose. I have I
myself seen among the fair listeners many
a bright eye dimmed with tears ere that
strain wa3 concluded. The duchess touch-
es the orean with a master hand, and ! .
markable for the one great excellence of
deeming all things worthy of being uhU I
done. Paris correspondent of the Ijondon I
OBAssiKooif Books. In the best books
great men taut to us, wun us, and give us
. . it . . . i
their most precious thoughts. Books are
the voices ol the distant and the dead,
Books are the true IeTeller3. They give tO
all who will faithfully use them, the society I
and the presence of the best and greatest of
our race. iNo matter how noor 1 am: no
y m ' I
matter though the prosperota of my own
ttme will not enter my obscure dwell-
ing. If learned men and poets Will enter
and take their abode under my roof; il Mil-
w. 7 "rc,.oiu wsmgvo me oi
raradise ; and Shakspeare open to me the I
worlds of imagination, and the workings of
the human heart ; and Franklin enrich
with his practical wisdom, I shall not pine
ImaybeMme aculuvated riMa.thoughex.
eluded Irom what is called the best 90ClCtV Its
the place where I live.
The Jajslfjaaevj f CapM.
ST T. MOORE.
Itetwitt Janettu'a lip and eyes
There once a roue a warm dispute;
Each claimed of loveliness the prize,
Aud Cupid sat to try the suit.
The eyes, a pair of richest blue.
Darted him such a winning look.
That, spite of all the god could do.
Ilia judgment thay severely shook.
The rosy lips' delicious pout
Arrested bis attention next.
And if he war before iu doubt,
lie then grew ten times mora perplei'd.
The eyes, which now about their case
Began to have no trifling fears,
Look'd timidly in Cupid's face.
And burst into a flood of tears.
Their aorrow quite the god beguiled,
. And eyes Lad wou the contest then.
Rut the aweet lips so fondly eiuiled.
That Cupid paused in doubt again;
And, deeming 'twere of little use
The contest longer to discus
Wheu each could still new charms produce,
I (e wisely gave his sentence thua:
'Whoe'er doe homage to the eyes.
The lips shull pay his rich reward;
Whoever dares the lips despise.
His wo the eyes shall ne'er regard.
"Go, then, in friendship atill combine.
And cease to quarrel till you meet
With eyes that more serenely shine.
Or lips whose nectar is more sweet."
Thus did the god bis judgment speak.
And bound them in eternal ties.
For well he knew 't were vain to seek
For sweeter lips or brighter eye.
From lbs Drawing Koorn Magazine.
The irivtbrr'a Wwiebla,.
I lur little one ia sleeping, love,
The light U on his brow;
His Fife i in die keeping, love.
Of spirit children now.
Our httl one ia dreaming, love,
His face is full of joy;
A hundred thoughts are beaming, love.
Around that sleeping bey.
Our little oue is waking, love,
Kach hp with feeling heavaa;
Like roaes with the breaking, love.
Of light among the leaves.
Our little one is amiling, love,
Ilia hands are on his brow,
From sleep his dreams beguiling love;
Come! look upon him now.
HV ORVILLE DEW FY.
I cannot easily express the pleasure I have
had. in looking at these statues. I should
Ik? almost afraid to sav how thev impress
rne in comparison with oilier works ot art
the most powerful, certainly, ol all the
statues in the woild is the Apollo di Belve
dere. That is grandeur. If we descend a
i i r . i f r
.isien rower ana sees, lor ueuuiv. i comes
, , , , r , i
llmt I hiia riAu-hAra fait it tt4 in th. urnrlr
.licit (lull. I IV niillv Kll a. .....ot. . u .
of Powers ; in his Eve, that is to say, and in
the 'Greek Slave. I do not mean the
beauty of mere form, of the moulding of
limbs and muscles. Iu this respect it is
very likely that the Venus de Medici is
superior to the Eve and the ureek Inrl.
n.' i .i i t ru...
M,K " , "M
ty, wnicn emnraces wun muscuiar lonn,
the moral sentiment of a work. And look
ing at this last trait, I fearlessly ask any one
to look at the Venus and at the Greek Girl,
and then to tell me where the highest intel
lectual and moral beauty is found. There
cannot be a moment's doubt. There is no
1C. "Ul n.ouca.y
is not in a situation to express any senumei.
or any vmrr seiiuiiictii. one uas iiriiuci
g i i
. 'u.,m ' ui " Bu," .
not is she in a situation to awaken any mor
al emotion. There she stands, and says, if
t i lit j a a
she savs anvtiiing; "i am au-oeautnui, and
I shrink a little from the exposure of my
1 1 T1 i .
i. nanus: wen stie may. mere ought
to he Motile reoMni foi r jtLMHHire ItSttlrt brum
like fidelity to history as in the Eve, or help
less constraint as in the Oreek Girl. Nav
according to the true laws of art. can that
a statue, which would be wrong,
improper, iiiMgusuug in rem nie : i am so
kdd as to doubt it ! Art proposes the re
I . i . i
presentation ol something that exists or may
la - i.....A. - l.n... I ItA.nhdiHt' avil in Ii f.. n.
urill oini liiBuumui ii-k in iiir. .,i
'lo'"'1 whether statuary or painting liav
i . . i r.. . .
any more liLtunesi. 10 iicunn ironi II I HI rule
outness 10 (1
than poetry. Ami suppose that an fcpto
poem, lor the sake ol Heightening th
charms anu attractions oi iu Heroine
i t.. r ' . i
should describe her as walking about naked
Could it be endured Nor any more do I
believe that sculpture without some urgent
cause, should take a similar liberty
rPl statue can be oeautilul, and can an
i .1 . i! -1 i. r
,wcr au l,lc l,r,,l,mr Inmost '
art: witness Lanovas Hebe; and the To-
Ii .IW . 1
ivmnia m tne louvre, an ancient work
1 do,,nt n,t "ial ancient art would have
g'v ,,s ",ore niples of this kind, if the
noial delicacy had been equal to the genius
M"1" subjection to the antique, will sup.
t Iy die deficiency. But at any rate, the
s,all,es of ,r- Pwer8 are entirely free from
"'is objection. She who walked in the bow
r t 11 .1 a.
ers ol primeval innocence, nau never thought
of apparel had not yet been ashamed to
fi,,d herself devoid of it ; and she is clothed
''" associations which scarcely permit oth-
"s to think ol the possession or want of it
S1,e is represented in this work as standing.
Hr Ml hand hangs negligently by her
Jul' ' ,l0r 'if11 hoite the apple ; and upon
u"s w 11,1 the 068,1 a ,,ule inclined, her coun
tenance is nxed ; and in this countenance
"me are beautifully blended, a meditation,
a 8a,,ne,s 8,,a cargemoss. wucn I
rst saw tins statue, or model rather, the
l-1 of l'cse expressions was not given. I
sa!J to t,ie a"'"'. "I see here two things; she
meditates upon the point before her ; and
w ""d at the thought of erring." He
sa! "Yes; that is what I would express,
nni 1 must aaa anotner trait. i icareti to
"avc nun touch ,li htwhen I next saw the
work that expression of eager desire was
a1d. which doubtless (ills up the true ideal
UI mc cnaracter.
' do not wish to speak of Uiis work in
an g"rat term oi commonplace praise,
The wor,d wH.e it. the skilful will judge
of and I have no doubt about their ver-
Much as I admire this statue, 1 confess
that the Greek Slave interests me more
deeply. I have spoken of the want of
wntimant in tlift Venim. Th fnrm ia Kohii.
tifnl. Hut iha fa ! rnnfrllv m.;
The Greek Slave is clothed all over with
' - -- - .- . r.
sentiment; sheltered, protected by it from
nrv nrnnin v Rm.,U Wh f
rnuld nnt he a more, rnmnl'ct nrntawinn
than th vei lire nf holinea in whieh ah
stands. For what does she stand there !
Tn k. m k. ui i Tnrir;.k .. i
v w wvim i w w aviM w uissUNi at Vita
A nerilous nosition to be chosen by an ar-
tist 0f high and virtuous intent ! A peri-
Inn mini fnr th artiat heiincr a owirl man
to compass. What is it? Th. highest
po,nt in all art. To make the spiritual
rpicm nvw th rnrnnrcii I In ainlr Cnrm in
ideality; in the particular case, to make
apalto sease; to make the exposure of
this beautiful creature foil the base intent
for whicli it is made ; to create a loveUnesa
ltwla flint a t nkarma var owl Wsat tltsi
has no value for the slave-market, that ha.
nlace there than if it were the love-
linem of infancy ; nny, that repels, t hills,
disarms the taste that would buy. And
how complete is the success ! I would fain
assemble all the licentiousness in the world
around this statue, to le instructed, rebuked,
disarmed, converted to purity by it ! Theie
stands the Greek Girl in the blave-maikef,
with a charm as winning as the eye ever
beheld, and every sympathy of the beholder
is enlisted for the preservation of her sanc
tity; every feeling of the beholder it ready
to execrate and curse the wretch that could
buy such a creature! There she stands,
with a form less voluptuous than the Venus
de Medici, but if possible more beautiful to
my eye ; manacles clasp her wrists and a
chain unites them ; her head is turned aside
a little ; and then her face I cannot de
scribe it I can only say that there is die
finest imaginable union of intellectual beau
ty, touching sadness, and in the. upper lip,
the slightest possible curl, just enough to
express mingled disdain and resignation.
The thought of a fate seems to be in her
face, and perhaps nothing could better bring
to its climax tne touching appeal of inno
cence and helplessness.
I will only only add, that Mr. Powers'
work seems to me to be characterized by a
most remarkable simplicity and chastencss.
Nature is his guide, to the very letter. No
extravagance, no straining after effect, no
exaggeration to make things more beauti
ful ; all is calm, sweet, simple nature.
The chasteness in these statues is strongly
contrasted with the usual voluptuousness of
the antique, and it is especially illustrated
bv die air of total unconsciousness in die
Eve and the Greek Girl. This is a trait of
delicacy, in my opinion, althogether higher
than the shrinking attitude and action of
most of the antique statues of enus.
Union Magazine for October.
The peasants of Sardinia are in the con
stant habit of hunting eagles and vultures,
both for profit and as an amusement. In
the year 1839, three young men (brethren )
living near San Gioranni de Donias Novas,
having espied an eagle's nest in die bottom
of a precipice, they drew lots to decide
which of them should descend to take it
away. The danger did not arise so much
from the depth of the precipice upwards
of a hundred feet but the apprwheiisiou of
the numerous birds of prey that inhabited
the cavern. However, the lot fell on one
of the brothers, a young man of about two
and twenty, of adiletic form, and dauntless
spirit. He belted a knotted rope round his
waist, by which his brothers could raise and
lower him at will ; and armed with a
sharpened infantry sabre, he boldly descend,
ed the rock, and reached the nest in safety.
It contained four eazlea of that peculiar
bright plumage called the light Isabella.
The difficulty now arose in bearing away
the nest. He gave a signal to his brothers,
and they began to haul him up, when he
was fiercely attacked by two powerful
eagles, the parents of die young birds he had
captured. The onset was most furious,
they darkened the cavern by the flapping of
their broad wings, and it was not without
much difficulty that he kept them off with
his sword ; when on a sudden, the rope that
suspended him swung round, and on look
ing up he perceived that he had partly
severed it widi his sabre. At this fearful
sight he was struck with such a sudden ter-
ror. that he was unable .to tiree hiscompan-
ions to hasten to his delivery, although he
still kept his fierce antagonists at bay. His
brothers conunuing to haul him up, while
their friendly voices encouraged him, he
soon reached the summit of the rock : but
although he continued to grasp the eagle's
nest, he was pr Ideas, and his hair, which
had before been of a jet black color, was
now as white as snow. Dr. Multngtn t
Mind and Matter.
In spite of the gorgeous livery assumed
by Nature during the month about which we
write prospectively, there is always a sad
tone in the music of its breezes. Its melo
dies are in a minor key. Winter already
casts his shadow before, aud summer flees
his approach. Love our firesides as we may,
we cling instinctively to die careless season
when warmth was not to seek. In an idea
life, .Summer would reign perpetually
hen we muse of brighter worlds ; when
we try to imagine what will be the condi
tion of the blest, who ever thinks of fire ?
No poet of the ideal ever draws a cheering
or exalting image from winter. "Thick
ribbed ice and regions where "the air burns
frore, and cold perforins the effect of fire"
have been called in to heighten our notion
of a place of torment. So we never long
for the "frosty Caucasus,' even when we
are melting under Cancer.
". .1 t -f .!
i ci mc pleasures ui tins season are net
ther few nor slight. 'Home-bred happineas
begins with cool weather. The friends
whom pursuit of health and fresh air has
separated for two or three months, will now
meet and exchange greetings with new zest
4 11 ! : .: i . .i
.in i9 aiiiiiituiou anu excitement, Deiween
the history of summer wanderings and the
preparation for winter. It seems like a new
lease of life to the happy, refreshed ami in
spirited by the heart-cheering breezes of our
lakes and mountains, jlay they include
the poor and needy in their plans for the
approaching severe season.
One of the satldening influences of the
autumnal change is the prevalence of stor
my winds, which remind us of disasters at
sea. How many hearts will tremble as the
loud blasts of tins month bring back the
sufferings of last fall, on our wreck-strewn
coast : iioci help the poor mariner,, and
spare the hearts that watch for his return!
Lnion Magazine for October.
Pusishmest or Idle Hcsband. The
head chief (of New Ireland) often interferes
in minor matters of a domestic nature; for
instance, if a lazy fellow has a wife or two
and a few children, and through his love for
hshing, dancing, and loitering idly about,
neglects to bring in the necessary supplies
lor nis lBinuy, a complaint is made, the
chief visits the house in person, and if he
sees iust irrounda for nunishmAnt Im nnr
out the whole population of the village,
. j r ; -
men, women, and children, arm themselves
with a stiff birch made of small canes, they
then form a long double line about six feet
apart, and wait with anxious glee the ap
proach of the delinquent. At last he is
plsced at one end of the lines amidst a
shower of yells, screams, jibes, fitc. The
word ia given by the chief, and away he
darts at his utmost speed through the ranks,
every one endeavoring to hit him as he pass
es). According to his deserts, he mav eet
off with running the line once, or may have
to do so twice or thrice ; but he is skilled
in cunning and fleetness that can run the
lines even once, without having his skin
tickled for him, by the heaity application
of the birch, wielded by some strong wo
men ! As the punishment is not of a fatal
kind (he whole affair creates unrestricted
merriment. Dr. Coulter's Adventures on
the Wtstern Coast of South America.
PrTiiicu. It is difficult to say, wheth
er the extended reputation which Petrarch
enjoyed during the course of a long life, U
more glorious to himself, or to his age.
We have elsewhere mentioned tbe faults of
this celebrated man; that subtlety of intel
lect which frequently led him to neglect
true feelintr. and to abandon himself to
false taste : and that vanity which too often
induced him to call himself the friend of
cruel and contemptible princes, because
diev flattered him. But. before we part
with him. let us once more take a view of
those great qualities which rendered him the
first man of his age ; that ardent love tor
science, to which he consecrated his life,
his powers, and his faculties; and that glo
rious enthusiasm for all that is high and no
ble in the poetry, the eloquence, the laws,
and the manners of antiquity. This enthu
siasm is die mark of a superior mind. To
such a mind, the hero becomes greater by
being contemplated ; while a narrow and
.nerile intellect reduces the greatest men to
its own level, and measures them by its
own standard. Thi3 enthusiasm was felt
by Petrarch, not only for distinguished men,
but for every thing diat is great in nature,
for religion, for philosophy, for patriotism,
and for freedom. He was the friend and
patron of the unfortunate Rienzi, who, in
the fourteenth century, awakened for a
moment the ancient spirit and fortunes of
Koine. He appreciated the fine art as
well as poetry; and lie contributed to make
the Romans acquainted with the rich mon
uments of antiquity, as well as with the
manuscripts which they possessed. His
passions were tinctured with a sense of re
ligion which induced him to worship all the
glorious works of the Deity, with which the
earth abounds ; and he believed, that in the
woman whom he loved, he saw the messen
ger of that heaven, which thus revealod to
him its beauty. He enabled his contempo
raries to estimate the full value of the puri
ty of a Mission, so modest and so religious
as his own ; while to his countrymen, he
gave a language worthy of rivalling those of
Greece and of Koine, with which, by bis
means, they had become familiar. Soften
ing and ornamenting his own language by
the adoption of proper rules, he suited it to
the expression of every feeling, and chang
ed in some degree, its essence, tie inspn
td his age with that enthusiastic love for
the beauty, and that veneration for the study
of antiquity, which gave it a new character,
and which determined that of succeeding
times, it was, it may be said, in the name
of grateful Europe, that Petrarch, on the
the 8th of April, 1311, was crowned by die
Senator of Home, in the Capitol ; and this
triumph, die most glorious which was ever
decreed to man, was not disproportioned to
the authority which this great poet was des
tined to maintain over future ages.
mondi, t the Literatr nf tht Italians.
( At the time that Francis I, of France was
taken prisoner at the battle of Pa via, oue of
his officers, the vaJourous Bauregard, smitten
by the charms of au Italian lady, named
Amelia, of noble family, declared his pas
sion to her. Aurelia, although she was flat
tered by die declaration, refused his preten
sions on account of the levity of the French
character, and their national indiscretion.
The extreme violence of the chevalier's
love urged him to propose to the lady to put
his constancy to any proof she might think
proper. Aurelia accepted die proposition, and
engaged to marry him if he would consent to
remain dumb ibr six months. The chevalier
promised, and from that moment never open
ed his lips. He returned to Paris, among
his friends and relations, who lamented the
singular infirmity he unfortunately brought
with him from the army. Bauregard ex
proawd nnly by n. ; the physicians were
sent for : he refused their assistance. The
captive King was at length restored to his
people ; but his joy on his return was di
minished by the misfortune of the chevalier
who was honored by the King's paru'cular
confidence. Francis sent his best doctors
to his favorite, who this time accepted the
medicines, but with no effect. The Kiri"-
went so far as to employ even the charla
tans, w no in ins time, even as at present.
f reteniieu to possess specifics lor all evils,
le even called in those who dealt in charms:
but to no purpose. All the court were hope.
less of his cure, when a famous fortune
teller presented herself, and wrote to the
King that she would undertake the restora
tion of the chevalier to his speech. Being
sent ior sue was introduced to tiauregard.
wnen sue atwressea nun Dy the word speak
and speak he did, for Bauregard iminedi
ately recognized in the stranger his beloved
Aurelia ! she who had long witnessed his
constancy and devotion, t rancis was sen
sibly affected at the event, ami presented
uieni wun a ncn marnage portion
MgBK mf ia a'tsam;
Among the symptoms w hich encourage
us to Mieve that a necessity for the beauti
ful is beginning to be acknowledged as one
Drain ii ol our utilitarianism, we notice the
introduction of rich stained glass in the
windows and skylights of the newly, fit ted
Brooklyn ferry-boats. "The oldest inhabi
tant can remember when little dirty barges,
.iuiu.n wan. an ampie reservoir ol water
to dabble the skirts of die ladies, and so
managed as to ship
lagetl as to shin a small sea occasionally
tne benefit ol their shawls, were the
only means of transit provided for the "gen
tle public between ew York and Brook-
lyn. I hen came horse-boats, coarse, clum
sy, mean, and lacking the little excitement
belonging to the cockle-shells above men
tioned. When steamboats made their ap
Hrance, they were hailed as a blessing in.
deed, but no one yet thought of askiiur lr
any beauty about them, except the beauty of
tuness, aiMi tins on the most rigid construe-
tion oi the term. car by year some tri
lling step has been made towards refine
ment. The unsightly tin lantern was ev.
changed for clear, bright lamps ; the seats
were cusiuoneti; smoking prohibited; the
floors sometimes attended to. Lately, wider
and better scats, widi convenient dividinz
. . i i l i - a
onus, uttiHuoiuc cusnions, cleaner Moors.
And now, within a sliort time, keenimr hnn
orable pace with the awakening love of the
rwaAlllirill IflsT. m-i.lAI I... 1 .
niuuu uy an iiicrcaseu in
terest in the fine arts, we have to notice the
improvement which called forth our nara.
graph and we do it with grateful pleasure.
It is a step towards the education of the
people. tion Magazine for October.
Bcactifcl Extiact .! l:.
- a HVn Jll-
tie do we appreciate a mother's tenderness
while liviner. How hendlAa ...
youth, of all her anxieties and kindness.
But when she is dead and eone : when the
cares and coldness of the world come with
ering to our hearts; when we find how
hard it is to find true sympathy, how few will
befriend us in our misfortunes : then it ;.
we think of the mother we lave lost.
Edccatiojt. Kverv man uU
above the common level receive i.n i,.
cations: the first from his instructors ; the
second, and most personal and important.
torn himself. Gibbon.
Seek lo acquire thaTvirtoa in . nh
o which thou feelest the least inclined.
W i a a. tt
asmlli liana .akm-iS .. .
a a sk.1.
., , . ' 2 'l'llm
w a a a ssv ana a iiiif-m n v a-s n
mose genera, pieces of wonder, d
uml rella rf ska. ST
die conversion of the Needle io the No, J'
and have studitd to mauh 3RJ ,
inciease .if V I
those in the more obvii
ious anil .!,... .
pieces of nature, which without funher tr
vel I can do in the Cosmography 0f &
self; we carry with us the wonders vttJi
without us : Theie is all Africa, and U
prodigies in us; we are that bold and J
venturous piece of nature, which he im
studies wisely, learns iu a eewsjirfj.
what others labor at in a divided piece arJ
endless volume. Sir Thomas LrmrM
A B""UCL P,CTt.-.X 10(U
teaching her child to pray, i.s an Ooiect
once the most sublime and tender the '
magination can conceive. Elevated abT
earthly things, she seems like one of tu!
guardian angels, the companion 0r
lB,"u j"'6'a5c uiiouk.ii wrioae minuij
lion we are inciiiieq to no good and
Were the happiness of the neit viwi
closely apprehended as the felicities of 7
it were a martyrdom to live; and un'
as consider none hereafter, it must bL
than death to die, which makes us a?
at those audacities, that durst b
and leturn io Uteir chaos aj:iin.
iitr ilatfa liAi-AmA rt l.l. I . li
iiivij k. ininiil.i ...........I...' l
lueimn iiaeuon make up out siuaJI rutjjj
r i. . ..
To Clashis os Lovkb. I hav fouuj k
long experience, that it is ao ue re roeastrai,!
with a anaai wha ia heaui-avrr-ears ia Ur t?
leader paseioa affects aa ditfVreullv. awow,,,'
ta oar coaatitutivaa. Oua W of fellow h
are generally the pleaautest, srMoia rM u-,.,
the length of flirtation. They are always 'at a
but constantly changing, and therfor '
to get through a tolerable catalogue f utaxa
uienU before they are Dually brought lo Lav,"
Suck mea are quit able to tak ear f
selves, aad require but little adiuomtioa. Y
ao doubt hear them bow and tliea 14 fo,
trirlin with tbe affections of young wains, .
if the latter hud themarlve tiie siigliteM renter
ia playing precisely the same game; but ia nw
case aucte censure i udewrneu, fur the
quite as much ia earaest aa their uriftiU'r..
loaf; a the impulse hut. The true'exp.an.
lion is, that they have survived tlwir first
siou. and that their faith ia wion hal hi,.1
in the boyish rreed of the aUo!ulr jwrfr-iiUj.V
of soman. The great disappointment., ut
does not make theiit iiiiaanturuie, but it
them to caution, aud lo a tlwcr areculiba
character than i usually undertaken ia tiwtr.,
instance. They have 'become, perhaps, ii,:.
seltiah, certainly ui ; - su M itu; and, thoa.-.
often on the verge 1 a proinul, ihrv vV
coiuiiiit themsel ve without an eilrritw o
of oeliberatiou. .i . ier set seem aeniguel!
nature to be the al i victim of auu.naJ
Whener they fall ia love, they iio it w.ui ,
earaeetaeoa aud aa obstinacy w'bU-h u acraj
anualliug. The adored object of their anVin,-,.
can twine them round her anger, quarrel .
tneui, cheat tlieui, caricature them, ut dirt
other, without the least risk of seve.-iu' ::lc
triple rord of attachment. They be-HuV .
tain aa poodle-doga. will aubiuit patient v i..
any manner of cruelty or caprice, ana ia Ui
aeeut rather to be grateful for such treatinoi
than otherwise. Clever women usually cti
trivo to secure a captive of thnt kind he
useful to them ia a hundred way a. never ntn-
ferea with tboir schemes, and, if tna worst
to the worst, they can alwaya fall baik upu
him as a pit-mLer. Black d i Magtiin
CoLOa or Cot itt Hvhsk. Theliwri..
t oral 1st for May contains a fine article a Vj
color of Country Houses, from the peucf.:.
editor. If its bints should receive tbe altt!.
they deserve, we should ia a few years see tu
mony and beauty in our rural districts, hrc
the eye ia now constantly offended with ar.-i
and offensive colors. Scarcely any thimrraa:
more unpleasant to the eye, than to a:nruji:i
Ihxamijr al.ie. of a bright white hou-e isiitt
of our brilliant mid-summer day. Nature, t.i
of kindness to man, has, it ia well migfetc
covered moot of the surfice that ntt-et tae
iu the country, with a soft green, ao retrehi3j
and grateful to the eye. 11 is habitations appr:
to be colored on the opposite principle, anu use
need in broad aunshinelo turn hi eye ,
to relieve them by a glimpse of the i;r-erht
shades that every where else pervadrs ttie lau
scajies. Hence lan.lscape painters stuuiou.
avoid the introduction of while in th. ir bu..u
ings and give some neutral tint one hu:.
contrasts agreeably with the prevailing hnn't
nature around them.
It ia laid dowa aa a rul among artiste, tUi
the colors of all buildings in tbe country (iou.j
be of those soft and quiet sha.les called n.-utfii
tints, such as fawn, drab, grey, brown, etc.. in.,
that all poMitive colors, such white, yrllv
red, blue, black, etc., should be avoiJed.' TV
principle of house coloring. .Mr. IWamj
adopts, and sustains by strong argument anu il
lustration. Hi practical iustrurtioa i. thai .a
proportion as a house i exposed to view, let .i
hues be darker, and where it is much rouoeaK
by foliage, a very light shade of color is t
preferred. Fortunately fashion ia nw 'Tiiii
in the right direction.
O Law5is smd Tacaa. writer iu Hie B.
ton Courier, conclude! his commnniratioa m.ii.
the following sensible recommeadatiou:
"A smooth. fine velvety turf, is only to beuu.i
tained hy ronstsnt mowing, or as oftea a eat
ia one or two week. During the mit raii..U
gniwiaj time of year, ones a week will be se.
ed, but less frequent at other times In !i.
haa never aeea thia mode of treatment, ceui
scarcely believe what a soft, green carpet i t!iu
produced. A single mowing once a month .i
so. will afford ao kleaof the closeness of gruaih
which grase thus assumes. To shave clo-!v
and evenly, the scythe, in the operation, mint !
laid flat to the ground; and aa English bw
scythe, with a blade twice the wklth of su-
coinmon scythes, will leave a more even snrfa.
aow, if the nianwhe intends to huilda how
costing two thousand dollars, will onlv recm-r
tneeoat to fjfteea hundred, he may eipend l.
hundred dollars of the difference in preparing
the ground and planting the trees in the ver
best maimer. The other three hundred he .u
place out at interest, the yearly revenue fr.a
which will pay amply the man "f.r mowing tn
lawa at least one a fortnifhf. the nmnKf
through, aad imparting an additional charm t-
the place. Which no Slim af liuiirr KhatW-r.
applied solely in building, could ever proilu.-r
Or, if instead of buying a two hundred andfifn
dollar carriage, or a seventy dollar harness. r
five hundred dollar piano, he will omit the pur
chase of such of these as are unnecessary. r
retrench one-third of the cost of such
useful, he will bo able to accomplish all th-"
may be desired, for this truly rational, useful
intellectual, and most delijhif.il purpose, aui
render his children altogether and more rea.lv
and substantially happy, than in the grutiii. t
tioa of useless baubles."
To Daarno Moss Fai ir-Tsri. T.i
fruit-tree ia old orchards, esueriallv in situa-
Uoaa where they do not grow Liudl'v. r.- verv
apt to have the branches and Iraak covered
with Ifcbeaaor rnoea. which does them conshl-
erable Injury. This moos mav be cleared off in
everal Wave: but BO) of the aimiilont. aad a very
effectual one, ia, to sprinkle the trees well with hy
wooa-aaaea while they are damn or wet bv J-
r raia. If thia bo repeated, in a short liiu.
the trees will be effectually cleared.
HOW TO Sill PoTTA"r.T R..;l In ll.r.f
skias, three large poUtoes; drain off the wat-i.
aad let them remaia ia the pot until they an
done ateamlng. Then peel and beat them'lifl'i
adding a table spoonful of clean brown surV-
as much wheat flour, n tea spoonful of salt, sat
a teaeupful of good rising; beat this aiiiturv
aatil ouito Mnooth, and then pour in three pitt
of boiling water: set it la a w inn nLftee. and IS
a abort time it will be fit for nse, having risea w
una wnito irota jn. Agnemltmrmlttt.
Nrramora Bai.a. Boil half a nan ml of rs
ia three pints of water, till th whnU beconK
thick and pulpy. With this and yeast, taJ
pounds or flour, make your dough. Ia
way. It to oaid, aa much bread will be mai.
If eight poandaof flour, without tit Hee, KJ
How TO Patriae, a Srn Vi.ia-Tai
fiaaad mustard 3 Iba.; common aalt 1 lb;
u Wlt tm-. grapo-jaico, or while fi