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* *;; ■ ' - ’ ‘ • ‘ ' ’ -i • ’■ . i • i ,4 ’] ' - * \ aievjtn «>;.» j - *■ . -■> •< ... « »»?* • : > !n - if ,U'3a is*r:* !<.-< ; ————— , ! ' . ' • _A Journal of Political and General News—An Advocate of Equal Rights. V0L- Vn-_ BATH, MAINE, THURSDAY MORNING, MAY 5, 1853. NO. 46. Stfoir titoitetm IS PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BY GEO. E. NEWMAN. Office in north end of Pierce’s Block, third etory, cor ner of Broad and Front Ste. TERMS.—One dollar and fifty cents per annum, if paid strictly in advance i one dollar and seventy-five cents within six :nouU»s i two dollars, if payment ts de •yod Iq the end of the year. O’ No paper will be discontinued until all arrear aobs are paid, unless at the option of the publisher. TT Single copies, four cents—for sale at the office, and at Stearns’ Periodical Depot, Centre St. n r Au letters and communications to be addressed post paid, to the Publisher, Bath, Me. S. M. Psttbnoill & Co., Newspaper Advertising Agents, No. 10 State Street, and V. B. Palmer, Scol lay’s Building, Court Street, Boston, are Ageuts for this paper, and are authorised to receive Advertisements and Subscriptions for us at the same rates as required at this office. Their receipts are regarded as payments. "miscellany. For the Eastern Times. Africa. Mr. Editor:—If you should see fit 10 give n place in your columns to the follow ing article on Africa, which first appeared in R late number of the Christian Register, permit it to be, with due deference, said to your Maine readers that, as inhabitants of a State whoso maritime advantages exceed those of any other in this Union, if not of any territory of equal extent on the globe, and whose people are fast acquiring for them selves a foremost rank amongst their sister States, for commercial enterprise, let those readers of your journal be told, that what ever relates to the vast undeveloped resourc es of Africa, whatever light may from time to time be brought to bear upon thoso but partially explored regions of exhnusiless wealth, and every new fact and movement having reference to that wealth and to the rude people connected with it, their being brought, not only to support extensive and lu crative trade and commerce, but to contrib ute their due proportion to the riches und happiness of mankind, which they have not hitherto done, is of especial interest to Maine. To the commerce of America, the open ing which is now being made through the young Republic of Liberia into those exten sive, populous and fertile regions, is pecu liarly promising as a prospective means of profitable trade, which though small now, must gradually and constantly increase. Out while litis subject may be found inter esting to the mail of trade and commerce, it may prove no less interesting to the Chris tian philanthropist, the philosopher and the moralist. 11. There is an immense region, comprising the greater part of interior Africa, two thous and miles in length and one thousand in breadth, nearly equal, therefore, to the whole of the United States, which has seldom or never been trod by the fool of the white man. It spreads out beneath the tropics, and is supposed by Humboldt to be one of die most interesting and fertile regions on die face of the earth. It must ha, he says, a high table-land, rising iuto the cooler sirata of the atmosphere, combining therefore the qualities of the lierra calicntc of Mexico, with its‘cloudless ethers,’the luxuriant slopes of the Andes, nud the pastoral plains of South ern Asia. It cannot be a sandy desert, though sometimes put down as such upon the maps, because vast rivers come rolling down front it into the surrounding seas. It is the native laud of the negro, and lie yet holds it exclusively as his own. From this region, sometimes called ‘High Africa,’the streams of migration have probably radiated to the surrounding coasts, becoming more corrupt where they stagnate upon the plains or come in contact with the foreign settle ments along the shores. It has long been a land of mystery, romance and wonder, anti of strange and tantalizing rumors. The ‘blameless Ethiopians’ of Homer, the favor ites ol the gods, and the wonderful Mucrobi ans of Herodotus, are placed by lloeren on the outskirts of this region, where they would be most likely to he oll'shoots from its parent slock. This country is guarded from the while man by fureps more potent than standing ar mies. Around it stretches a border on which brood malaria, pestilence, and death, and which the English government for half a century have expeuded lives and treasure to break through. In one expedition after an other, sent out from the island of Ascension, nine white men out often fell victims to the ‘beautiful hut awful climate.’ In allusion to this, Mr, Everett says, in his late address, that the Anglo-Saxon cannot civilize Africa. Perhaps he cannot for other reasons. Suck civilization as the white race brings to the whole coast of Africa, is no way desirable ; and so Frovidence has guarded the fairest land of the Alrican with a power that cuts down the white man as soon as he crosses ita borders. Nevertheless, news from the interior, more or less distinct, lias found its way over this belt of danger and death. Being a land of mystery, it should he borne in mind that there is a strong tendency to exaggeration in all that comes from it. The Niger, one of \ the noblest of rivers, skirts this unknown country lor some hundreds of intles, alter ' sweeping away through the central portion of negro-land, already described. The Colo nial Magazine, speaking of the exploration of this river by the English expedition, says : ‘They have found that this whole tract of country is one of amazing fertility and beau ty, abounding in gold, ivory, and all sons of tropical vegetation. There are hundreds of woods, invaluable for dying and architectural purposes, not found in other portions of the world. Through it, for huudreds of miles, sweeps a river from three to six miles broad, with clean water, and of unsurpassable depth,flowing on at the rate of two or three miles an nour, without rocs, snoni, or snag, to intercept its navigation. Oilier rivers pour into this tributary waters of such vol ume, as must have required hundreds of miles to be collected, yet they seem scarcely to en large it. Upon this river are scattered cities, some of which are estimated to contain a million (?) o( inhabitants; aud the whole 'country teems with a dense population. Far in the interior, in the heart of this continent, is a nation in an advanced state of civiliza tion. But all this vast and sublime country, this scene of rich fertility and romantic beau ty, is apparently thrust out forever from the rest of the world.’ In 1816, Capt. Tuckey,of the English Na vy, made a disastrous expedition up theCou go. In 1823, Capt. Owen, from the opposite coast, attempted to penetrate this land of mystery and marvel with alike result. But they found a manifest improvement io the condi tion of the people the farther they penetrat ed, and they met with rumors of a powerful and civilized nation, still further inward, whose country they attempted in vain to ex plore. In IS18, John Campbell, agent ol the London Missionary Society, attempted to reach this country by journeying from the Cape northward; and laler still Capt. Alex ander led an expedition having the same ob ject. They found populous cities situated in a fertile and cultivated country, but they did not reach the land of marvel aud mystery, though they heard the same rumors respect* jog its people. W« find an article quoted from the Edin burgh Review of July, 1835, to whieh we cannot now refer, giving a detailed account of the discoveries of two travellers on the Eastern and Southern borders of this un known region. The people are described as in a much higher and better condition than 'closet geographers’ have ever supposed.— They are a people of industry and social or der, and they are represented as exhibiting a spectacle of £ivilizatioo, comparable wit! that of aucient Mexico or Peru. Such it 'High Africa,’ the hits, undoubtedly, of tin immense ami varied population that have swarmed over the comment, guarded as yet, from traders, slavers, and Anglo-Saxon Civi lizers, by an awiul enchantment which Di vine Providence in mercy has cast around it. 1 erhsps it is not in the order of that- Provi dence that Africa shall receive directly from us either a blood-stained civilization or a complete Christianity; but that one shall be developed out of herself from which ours may take a softer and more heavenly lustre. Our eye alights at this moment on a para graph from the Nationul intelligencer, which stales that the American Missionaries in Africa, have found a new tribe of people, moving from the interior towards the coast, remarknble lor their pure religious ideas aud susceptibilities, whose language is ‘one of the most perfect and harmonious in all the world,’ and whose agency is hoped for in ‘diffusing Christianity and civilization.' Whatever may be the influence of the col ony of Liberia upon American slavery, we think it will famish important aid if not in solving questionsoflADatomy and Ethnolo gy,’ yet in enlarging and perfecting the sci-1 ence of Anthropology. This colony has un fortunately been the subject of contradictory representations, but we presume there is no doubt as to its present condition and pros pects. ihe lie?. Mr. Kockwell, lata a chap lain in the navy, in his excellent hook of travels, gives a full, and we doubt not, an im partial, picture of the slate of tlie colony.— It is a picture'of thrift ami industry, of well- j established schools where all the children are educated, of churches filled with devout wor shippers, of quiet, bocial order under the in fluence of a healthy puhlid moral sentiment, of' comfortable dwellings neatly furnished, and of pure Christian manners. A later traveller describes the appearance and de bates of its legislative assembly, and if it did not exhibit so much intellectual power and dexterity as the American congress, it ex hibited u great deal more of decency and de corum. , But mark, now, the bearing of these facts on the question of the native capacities of llie negro. YVe are never to forget that the Li-1 benan is a lineal descendant of the Guinea slave; that is to say, that lie is the expansion of the lowest type of the negro race. Look at the descendants of the same ancestry close by on the Guinea coast, or in the dominions ol his Majesty the king Dahomey, sitting in his palace with its roof ornamented with jaw-bones and its floors paved with negro skulls. This picture and then that! And recollect, when contemplating that sceno of Christian worship, when on some Sabbath morning the music of the church bells rolls over the tropic gardens and coffee fields, and a population of many thousands wend quietly from their neat and happy homes to iheir places of prayer, that this dawn of civiliza tion has but just broken on a long night of oppression and wrong ; that this condition ol social, civil and religious order tins been evolved through cruel vassalage and disen franchisement from (he most degraded stock of the colored races—and then, if you can, despair of the negro or of man ! The peculiar susceptibility of the negro race, and the peculiar style of character and society which he will develop, cannot very well be mistaken. In his savage state, as with all oth er races, the sensuous faculties are chiefly ac tive, and the animal or demon alone appears. Such was the Anglo-Saxon, the grim wor shipper of Odin and the pirate of the Northern seas. But when the nature of the negro is elevated and fertilized, he exhibits a stylo of character which is all his own. The artistic skill, the Grecian intellect, the Englishman’s robust reason and broad comprehcnsivenesss, or-the Yankee's perseverance and right-hand ed cunning, can never be his. The more ex quisite productions of art and genius, the pro | founder discoveries of philosophy, the more magnificent works of science and mechanism, arc out of his range. Not his intellectual but his affectionate nature will be the basis of his improvement and civilization, llis family and social alfeciions are strong and ardent, and, unless torn away by violence, he would never have left his native clime. His feelings ate lively and volatile, gay as a child's, and ten der as a woman's. There is uniformly in his nature a soft and plaintive tunefulness, not dis guised even in the wild music of his native groves, but which is poured out, in all its quiv ering pathos, in Moravian hymns. Above all, his religious alfeciions and susceptibilities are deep and inextinguishable, incapable of being j cooled into creeds and forms, but moving in i tumultuous throbs and grateful ccstacies un der all exhibitions of Divine love. No people j could be so easily Christianized as this. The Moravian Missionaries went among the Hot- j tentots, who, though not strictly of the negro j type, are a slight variation from it, and they | soon gathered bOO converts into their fold, while members from remote tribes were still j thronging around them to hear. But the Cape : colonists were jealous of the inlluencc of the ! missionary, and the salvation of souls must not interfere with trade! The first emancipation j of slaves in the Y\:esl India islands, was amid a scene of prayer atuf devotion on the part of the slaves as morally sublime as anything we know of in history. And whoever has studied the characteristics of the colored population of the United States, whether slave or free, knows very well that there is no class of peo ple whose natures respond more quickly to the more glowing exhibitions of Christian truth, or rather of Christian love, for that is what Methodism makes primary and fundamental, or is more easily moulded under its elastic power. The nature of the African is pecu liarly open and susceptible on the side of the supernatural, making him pliant to all those iniiueiices which dn.w roan upward into com munion with a spiritual world. 1 he question whether the African in his na tive capacity is equal to the Anglo-Saxon, is a question just about as sensible as another which is now mooted so much ; whether the capacities of woman are equal to those of man. It is just about as sensible, that is, as the question whether love is equal to wisdom, the heart equal to the head ; or yet again, whether aline is equal to an angle, ora pound sterling equal to a pound avoirdupois. They are quantities of different denominations, and none but block heads attempt to work them in the same equa tion. Every race of men is a different style of human nature from every other, bears its own stamp and superscription from the Divine hand, and when unlolded and elevated, will have its own style of character and of society. For what other reason in the world were mankind made to exist in distinct races, but that each may exist a distinct phasis of the common hu manity that inlays them, and so unfold and fill up in each direction all its varied and glorious possibilities ! In the character of the African, when unfolded by education, in the various ne gro nations, and Especially those more ad vanced and civilized, we see the germs and el ements of forms of society unlike our own, yet presaging not less an auspicious future. His religion will never be a Calvinistic Christiani ty hammered out into creeds in theological schools. Its emblem will not be the tough and .gnarled oak of New England, but the slender and luxuriant palm of his native groves. The value of his civilization will not be gauged chiefly by the ‘increased exports,’ nor will its trophies be picture-galleries, nor net-works of railroad, nor spleudid architecture, nor climb ing machinery. Whatevcr be has of these lie will borrow from another race. His form of society, we apprehend, will be a sphere of the milder and simpler virtues, and shaped and controlled more by science. It may be such even as the Anglo Saxon, w ith his present standard of moral val ue, would regard with scorn ; and yet, in the judgment of higher beings, a civilization found ed on the feelings and sentiments, with their tropic exuberance, may exhibit as much of a true and lofty manhood as one which is found ed on intellect, with its transparent cryslaliza tioris and wintry splendors. Subterranean Life in London. I he following description of subterranean life in London, is taken from the annual re port of Rev. Mr. Bigelow, of Boston, minister at large, and is described as he saw it, while on a visit to that great metropolis of the world, London. He says :— ’ “ By the kindness of Sir Richard Mayne, the chief of the police department, who pro posed the visit and furnished a carriage, with an escort of two officers, (an inspector and a detective) for my attendants, I was taken one night oh a round of exploration to what may be termed subterranean London } being con ducted first to a central station of the police, for inspection of the cells, then first filling up with wretched inmates, seized for some breach es of the peace, or graver offences, by the offi cers on duty ; thence to the quarters of the fire department, where the men in charge, with iiorses equiped, were keeping vigil, ready to rush, on the first note of alarm, with engines and ladders to the place of threateneS confla gration ; next, to more dreadful scenes—the haunts of the vilest and most depraved of both sexes—desperate characters, among whom, but for the presence of the officers by my side, (who stood among them with calm, but stern and determined front) I should not have been safe one moment from robbery or violence. In Rosemary Lane, Wapping, and Whitechapel, i was introduced to such dens, and witnessed the orgies with which the inmates made ‘night hideous.’ 1 was thence conducted to the mis erable lodging-houses," the nightly penny-a head shelters of the lowest of Jiondon’s poor; where, huddled together in wretched tene ments, situated in crowded, ill-ventilated courts, strewn on floors, from basement to at tic, with only litters of rags, or thin sacking of straw, were seen men and women, the old and the young, mothers and babes, lying together, stretched in all directions ; many of the groups were disposed with positions reversed ; heads and feet alternating against the walls, and children resting crosswise over their bare limbs. Not a few of these creatures were found in a state of perfect nudity, and seemed nothing disconcorted as the light from our lan terns glared upon them, and roused them from their slumbers to a momentary consciousness of their being. So crowded were these abodes that it appeared impossible, in some cases, for human tool to tread through the prostrate mass without crushing some poor sleeper. Never theless, at the summons of the police, the keep er went before, clearing a passage, that closed as we advanced with cautious step ; and we proceeded from room to room, and floor to floor, amid foul and olfensive atmospheres—the more oppressive for the warmth of a July night—making it a wonder how the miserable occupants of those frightful dormitories could extract therefrom enough of the vital air for the support of bare existence. The efl'ect was so sickening and disabling to myself, personal ly—in connection with other scenes witnessed, and the painful reflections induced—as physi cally to indispose mo for several days follow ing.” The Two Brides. 'Oh ! Henry! is this the collage you thought so beuuiiful ?—dear, dear me, what a very shabby place,’ said Marian Lenox, as with her husband they alighted at (he door of a neat little cottage. ‘Why, my love, you know it's Spring; the leaves are hardly out, and the rose-bushes only buduing. Vet yuu may form some idea of bow it will look in summer; see the vines trained over the windows! Look at the gar den spots here and there—rather neglected to be sure—but—’ '•Rathei- neglected,’ added lus wife break* ing in upon him; ‘L should think so. Why there’s a uetile straw—liner, and eld hoops —rulhcr neglected. And the door—bow old fashioned and ugly! take care—I am sure you can hardly stand up straight iu this nar row, low studded ball. 1 detest low ceilings, country or no country. And this bn ol a parlor hardly large entugh to turn about iu —I can’t and 1 won’t like that! Now let me see Hie kitchen; oh, horror!’ she ex claimed, holding up her hands, either notic ing not, or deigning not to nonce the expres sion of uneasiness that sal on her husband’s lace, ‘look at the hearth—ol brick, as Tin alive, and takes lip half the floor. High win dows, too!—how 1 hate high windows—and such a pattern for paper! it niukes me ner vous to look at it—criss-cross, like spiders crawling over a web ; now Henry, you can’t expect me to live here.’ iler husband, a flue main joking fellow, half sighed as he said—‘1 should be very un willing to subject you to inconveniences such as you seem to dread, but there are only this and the new cottage above, on the hill.— That you know is three hundred dollars a year, two hundred more than we should pay tor this—and then the expenses!’ ‘Oil ! Henry uenr! don t go to talking about expenses; your business is good, it will war a 111tie outlay, you told me so yourself.— Come, 1 will economise in other tilings— just look nuw at these dingy, black closets’ —be half agreed with her as she opened the really dismal places—‘1 shouldn’t wonder if they were filled with rats and vermin. Now lei’s go up stairs; see Bbw the paper is toru off und patched—and worse and more ol it, there is but one upright chamber in the house. Mother’s Iasi words to me were, do get upright chambers, for they look so pretty when tiiey are well furnished. And here iu front of the house is a wretched great hole—’ 'But in summer,’ put fn Henry. 'Oh! 1 know what you would say. I sup pose there is water there sometimes, but half of the year it will be a most detestable sight. Then the trees so close to (he house—I’ve always heard that trees make a house very damp and uncomlortablc—no ; I'm sure you won’t try to make me live in such a place, after all the comfoit I've been used to. (Jotne let’s go—for really, 1 am quite melancholy already.’ Henry resigned the key, only half con vinced by his wife’s reasoning. He loved her, wanted to make her happy; but just starting iu life, how was he to maintain style and extravagance? He liked the little cottage, but was pursuaded against hie belter judgment to refuse it. About an hour after, a plain carriage drove up and a sprightly young man lifted a sweet, blue-eyed gill to the ground,'saying as lie did so, ‘Now prepare to be disappointed.’ ‘l am uot iu tbe least with tbe exterior, 'she exclaimed, pausing—‘oh! how cunning —how neat! what a fine place for a garden! and those dear little trees—and this wilder ness of t^se-buehes 1 1 declare, 1 never was so pleased with anything in my life. The door looks like what 1 have seen in piettves of old country houses—and oh ! do look and see the vines clambering over every window ! When thoy are loaded with bios sorns, and the roses are out, it will seem like Paradise.’ ‘The entry is rather small nnd low,’ re marked her husband. ‘Oh! not a bit too smnll; and ns to low ceilings, in a cottage like this, they are quite apropos. Now did you ever see a quainter, pleasanter li,ttle parlor—just the place tor your mother’s nice old-fashioned furniture.— The sofa shall be (here, right between those pretty little windows, nnd the. chairs here, nnd the tables there;—won’t it look so cosy and comfortable ?’ she asked, her blue eyes sparkling with unalloyed pleasure. How could the young tnau help kissing that pure, innocent brow, upturned to him so lovingly? ‘Now the kitchen,’ she cried, clapping her hands—‘there! just what I honed! Ii’sjust a bit of old times as I thought itSvould be.— Maybe you don’t like brick hearths—but l do. Many a frolic have I had in grandmoth er’s kitchen; this is like it only a smnilci edition. There she used to sit, in a corner like that, and her smile always looked so heavenly ! This does make me think of her.’ ‘Doyoulike the closets?’ asked her hus band, throwing open the doors. , ‘Oh! I like everything. Yes, it’s rather fortunate they are dark ; the flies will keep out nicely. ‘Indeed I like everything,’ she added, running up stairs, ‘we can get a liitle new house paper, some brighter than this, and paper the stairway ; and here we are, chambers small, anil collage fashion. Most people like upright chambers, but don’t you think it’s pleasanter to bear the rain inttlmg down the root? Oh, such snug little places not at all ungainly, and looking out upon such a delicious prospect. Besides! here’s a joyful surprise—a pond ! that is, it will be ; oh! I am so glad—just in front of the house, too! the prettiest spot! And when the trees are'all leaved out, and the birds sing on the branches, right close to our windows—ami the garden aud meadow are in the lull bloom of summer—oil ! wont we be happy ?’ ‘We are happy now;’ said her husband, thanking God in his heart for his cheerful lit tle wife. ‘We are happy enough now, dear* Louise!’ As they were riding home they passed jhe new house on the hill. ‘There !’ exclaimed Louise, pointing to wards it—how much better our liule home will he than that stiff, ornamented place. I pity who ever will live there—no shade trees, no nice old-fashioned corners—besides, ‘add ed she, rogishly, turning to her husband,‘two hundred dollars to spend io comfort, is some thing ol a gam ! Ah ! we have made much tii€ better bargain.’ Mow true is the old proverb that 'where the spider sucks poison the bee sucks honey.— Olive Branch. Important Decision. Liabilities of Ship Owners in Cases of Collision.—The very recent decision of the Supreme Court ol the United Stales respect ing the liability of underwriters to pay for losses occasioned by collision of vessels, mer its the prompt attention of every shipowner. This decision will he found in the Monthly Law Reporter of April. The opiiirOn of the court, delivered by Judge Curtis, at the Inst term at Washington, reverses the previous decisions of Judge Sto ry, of the same court, aud comes in direct conflict with the decisions ol the Supreme Court of this State,—by which it tins been held that ‘underwriters are liable to repay to the insured damages paid hy him to the own ers of another vessel anti cargo, suffered in a collision occasioned by the negligence of the master or mariners ol the vessel insured.’ This liability of underwriters is one which they hate never been willing to acknowledge, or at least, have acknowledged with reluc tance ; but the decisions of our Courts have established the fact that it was u liability which they assumed in their polities, and the underwriters of Boston have in more than one instance paid losses of the kind re ferred to. Nevertheless, the Supreme Court of the United Status is the highest tribunal in the land, and though its decisions do nut necessarily change those ol our State Courts, still its influence cannot fail to he in some de gree fell; and underwriters, with the weight of such powerful opinions on their side, will be more than ever reluctant to acknowledge a liability which they have always endeav ored to repudiate. As collision is one of the most prominent perils of the sea, it would seem to he one of the risks most necessary to insure against, and the damage resulting from collision, whether to the vessel insured, or to the ves sel not insured, hut caused hy the fault ol the insured vessel, which is responsible for damages done to the other vessel, is a risk which should he covered by insurance; and if there is any doubts of tins risk being cov ered hy the policies ol insurance now granted by underwriters in this country, the sooner these doubts are solved, hy a mollification ol the terms of the policy, tlie greater will he the security of the ship owners. Tfie object of effecting insurance is gene rally supposed to be to protect the assured from all the ordinary losses, which he is like ly to meet with; aud underwriters have al ways been content to lake the risk of the neg ligence, carelessness, or fault of the master or mariners of vessels, when threugh such carelessness or fault the vessel insured wa« stranded, or lost, or even datnnged hy collis ion. The distinction then that they tore not lia ble for damages done to the vessel not insur ed by die one insured, through .the fault of the latter, will we fancy hardly recoguized by merchants, for if the insured vessel is lia ble for such damages, it is clearly a damage to herself and her owners ; and the fault ol the master or mariners should be insuted against in this cuse, and the owner protected from loss, the same as if the vessel had been carelessly stranded. If ibis principle be not recognized, every one can see to what fear ful losses those interested in navigation would be liable. Valuable ships and valuable freights would be lost, and the owners, though nominally protected be iosurancn, might find themselves and their families reduced from affluence to poverty. The foundations, even, ol commer cial security would be undermined. • To underwriters the risk is a small one, but to individuals it is one 6f great magni tude. If the former find their rates loo low to cover this risk they should raise them, but the principle should be established, and es tablished without delay. To effect this it seems desirable that there should be a public meeting of ship owners, and that some gene ral action should be had on the subject, that a correct understanding of the same may be arrived at, and an effort made to have poli cies of insurance so framed, that those inter ested in navigation will be protected from losses occurring by collision.—Bos. Daily Ado. * Dear children, once said a considerate moth er to her children—you must remember the poor—after you and I and father have feasted, and you have fed the chickens, the pig and cat, if there’s anything left that ain’t fit for soap grease, give it to the poor it does us good to ho charitable and prudent, and feed the hungry—with what’s left. * Twould a been a sight better for the rich man, if he had saved the big pieces and a gin the little crumbs to Lazarus. Desert Rock Light House. The coast of Maine presents the most va ried and picturesque outline of all our seu board States. The traveller from Norihen Europe will be reminded, in its innumerable bays and inlets, its succession of pretty is* lands, its quiet and sheltered harbors, its banks dark with pine and fir, of the shores of Norway and Sweden. As in those coun tries, this peculiarity of its coast is destined especially to influence the future of this,'as yet, undeveloped Siate. The bays and riv ers connecting with the farthest interior of the country, the stores of excellent timber, and the facilities for the produce and manu facture of hemp, promise to make Maine the great ship building State on the Atlantic shore of the Western Continent. At present, however, the most interesting feature of this coast is its wild and picturesque beauty._ The traveller, as he skirts the shores in the swift and commodious steamboats, or more leisurely in the ‘coasting schooners,’ is con tinually surprised at the bold and changing scenery. At ene time, the grey, granite rocks, beaten forever by the lull sweep of the Atlantic tides, face the sea; at another, un dulating hills, frowning with dark pine and Bpruce and hemlock, reach to the very shore ; then cornea group of peaceful little islands spriukleil fur out in the ocean, and each per haps (ringed to the water’s edge with woods ; then appears one of the broad quiet harbors, with a mighty river flowing into the sea—so wide that the blue batiks of the one side are hardly visible from the other. Ibis coast, though well adapted for shelter Irom tough weather, is exnosed to the vio lent storms of the Northern Atlantic. The Easterly blows’—so dreaded by sailors oil our seaboard—sweep in here with a lorce which, at various times, hnsstrowu the whole shote front Cape Sable to Cape Ann with wrecks. Iho danger is increased by the heavy fogs, which Irom June to September gather on the coast. One ot the first cares of the Government wa3 to erect light houses at various points, w here wrecks had occurred. It wns not, however, till within twenty years that the Desert-Rock Light House was built. The rock is a dangerous granite ledge, lying about twenty-eight miles from the nearest main-land, and about eighteen from the near est cluster of islands, which form the East side of Reuobscot Bay. it contains some ten acres at low water, nnd more than five or six at high tide. The waves never lairly sweep it, though the spray flies over it in all severe storms, hut not so much ns to destroy the growth of grass nnd a few vegetables on a halfacre at the top. The writer of this remembers to have been informed that in a violent easterly gale, some six or eight years ago, the waves beat with such force on the rock, that almost every square of glass in the keeper’s house was de stroyed, and the outer door was broken in by a rock, weighing above sixty pounds, thrown up by fbe force of the breaking surf. The Light itself is a fixed white light, from common oil lamps ami reflectors. It is not uufrequeut, in the foggy season, for vessels hound from Europe to St. John and other portson the Bay of Fundy, to make this Light, as their first laudface, whence they enn grope their way to port with more certainty than if they try to find the danger ous shores of Cape Sable or Grand Menan. —Meyer's Universum. An exchange paper states that nineteen years ago, a Mr. Iluit, of Wilton, in Fairfield county, Conn., then a remarkably good stu dent hi his collegiate course, was suddenly deprived of his reason and memory. Under those circumstances, his father, Rev. Mr. llait, sent him to IlnrtfurJ, but finding no re lief lie sent him to Dr. Chaplain, of Cam bridge, Massachusetts. The doctor said there was no present relief for him, but at the age of ilurty-six or thirty-seven, there would he a change ; that the hrain was too much expanded for the cranium, and there would at that age lie n contraction, which would enable it to act healthily. Ilis anxious father nnd family saw their hope peremptori ly deferred for nineteen years. That time has recently expired, ami to their great joy the prophecy is fulfilled. The man begun so inquire fur his books as if lie bad just laid them down, and resumed his mathematical studies where be left them. There was no (race oti his mind of this long blank in his life, of any thing which bad occurred in it, nnd lie did not know that be was almost for ty years ofage. , Example of Success in Liming.—The Genesee Farther gives an account of a farm in Lancaster county, 1'ennsylvnnin, which has been one hundred years under cultivation, and during the last fifty has been limed every ten years. It was much exhausted when the use of lime was first resorted to for its renovation, but the application of ten bushels per acre, developed elemenis of fertility be fore unavailable in the growth oferops. Al ter the lapse of ten years, the good effect of the lime disappeared, nnd a new dose of ten bushels per acre again administered. The soil is a gravelly loam, nnd yields, with lim ing, thirty bushels per acre. Clover, a plant which feeds very largely on lime, is grown in rotation with the wheat, and is either turned with the plough or feed to animals, whose manure is applied to the land. This is one of the most successful examples ol Inning that has met our notice, and on other soils the result might be quite different. More than He bargained for. A sort of small magistrate in the neighborhood of Smyr na has got into a bad scrape, all on account of locusts. This insect had been of so much an noyance last August, owing to the eggs that it laid upon the grape vines, that this magistrate took it upon himself to offer a reward of twen ty-five cents a pound for all the eggs that the peasants might collect and bring to him. He had two or three dollars in his treasury, and he thought if a dozen pounds or so of eggs were removed from the vines of his commune, he should do agriculture a service, and merit flat tering notice from his superiors. The peas ants sallied forth in immense numbers, and in three days laid at their magistrate’s feet 17-, 500 pounds of locust’s eggs ! The poor man was in for about $4000, while something like three dollars and sixpence was all he had in his exchequer. He repudiated at once, and said he should write to Smyrna for further in structions. What the Smyrnese authorities will think proper to do under the circumstanc es is yet unknown. The magistrate may be eggs-iled.* Professor Felton said something good when he said the following—‘With what a scornful disregard of wealth, and the position of the mo ment, Almighty God scatters the priceless gifis of genius among his children! The great poet,'the illustrious statesman, the elo quent orator, is as likely to go forth from the brown-faced laborer’s cottage over the way, as from the sumptuous palaces' of the capital.— The future ruler of an empire may be uncon sciously digging in yonder field ; and this very school may be, under God, the appointed means of revealing his unsuspected destiny to him and to the world.’ When we see any one going up street with a small roll, done up in a handkerchief, we think of spiritual ‘wrappuis.’ Child Murder in England. From statements in the Loudon Examiner and other English papers ia would appear that the crime of child murder is greatly on the increase in that country. In some cases it seems to he perpetrated iu the indulgence of fiendish malignity though more generally for the sake of escaping the labor and ex* penso of supporting the children. At Not tingham, Mury Autcliff, aged 25, was tried recently fur the murder of a child whose fa ther she hud recently murried. The child was hut two years and a half old, and ap peared to have been treated with the great est cruelty by »ts step mother during the time. It was proved that' she frequently heat and shook the child severely; that she sometimes threw him on the ground with vi olence, and even kicked bimWfoaa the floor ; that she kept him immersed in cold water for an hour together, although the child’s offence was really occasioned by the elleci of teeth ing; that she stinted him in food, and turned him out in the cold with insufficient clothing, so that a neighbor sometimes took him iu and warmed and fed him. On one occasion when this was done, some of the neighbors examined the child's body and found it cov* ered with bruises, and about the same time in reply to an observation that the child look ed very weakly, the prisoner replied that * it would not die; it had no die in it.’ On the 1st of December the eldest child fetched one of the neighbors to the prisoner’s house, and there the youngest was found on the priso ner’s lied, dying; and in about an hour he did die, in consequence, according to the tes timony, of injuries it had received. The wo man was convicted of manslaughter, and sen tenced to he transported for tile. In the same place, and on the same day, Mary Ann Parr,,aged 25, was tried and con victed of having suffocated her nursing child. She confessed it, and said her only reason was the fear that she could not get employ ment if she was compelled to take care of it. At Ox'ord, Christopher Massy was tried for having drowned an iliigitirnate child of Mary Westail, by throwing it into a pond. These are only a few »f the cases of this dreadful crime, which we find reported in our English exchanges.—N. Y. Times. Keeping the Folks in Meeting. When Mr. Moody, Handkerchief Moody, was on a journey, in the western part of Mas sachusetts, he called on a brother in the minis try, on Saturday, thinking to spend the Sabbath with him, if agreeable. The man appeared very glad to see him and said, ‘ I should he very glad to have you stop and preach for me to-morrow, but I feel ashamed to ask you.’ * Why, what is the matter?’ said Mr. Moody. ‘W hy our people have got into such a habit of going out before meeting is closed, that it seems to be an imposition on a stranger.’ ‘It that is ail, I must and will stop and preach for you,’ was Mr. Moody’s reply. When the Sabbath day came, and Mr. Moody had opened the meeting and named the text, he looked around on the assembly, and said, ‘My hearers, I am going to speak to two kind of folks to-day, saints and sinners. Sinners, 1 am going to give you your portion first, and 1 would have you give jjood attention.* When he had preached to them as long as he thought best, he paused and said, ‘There sinners, I have done with you now; you may take your hats and go out of meeting as soon as you please.’ Uut all tarried and heard him through. Nathaniel Hawthorne.—The author of ‘Twice-told Tales,’ has been passing a few days in the city previous to his departure fur Liverpool. His appointment to that lucrative consulship has given universal satisfaction ; for although the distinctions of office can add noth ing to his fame, it is pleasant to see this re cognition of his genius hy the government, and it is equally gratifying to be represented abroad by so noble a specimen of American manhood. Hawthorne has passed his life in the seclusion of the country, and has all the pride, diffidence and sensibility of true genius, shrinking alike from patronage and curiosity; yet, lie is by no means a misanthrope or a recluse; hut accessi ble, genial and sympathetic. He says little in society ; but even his silence is eloquent, for his countenance expresses all that his voice does not. Hawthorne is an illustration of the mens sana in sorpore sano required by the Lat in poet, and so seldom found in connection with modern genius, which is, universally, dyspeptic nr consumptive. He is athletic and symmetri cal, and has the most remarkable and distin guished head we have seen since Webster’s.— Home Journal. Oyster Shells.—These have not been of much account in this city till lately. The Gas Company now use nearly all that can he fur nished by our oyster dealers, for making lime. In the winter season, for purifying the gas, they use about 36 bushels of oyster lime each week, and this amount is supplied from shells. They have a tall brick furnace standing in the open air, near their works, which they fill with shells and coke ; the latter burning freely, bakes and purifies the shells, which, after being sepa rated from the ashes by a seive, when slaked, crumbles into the whitest and purest lime.— This is mixed with ammonia for the purifying process, and after they have both been used /or cleansing the gas, the combination, lime and ammonia, is sold to farmers for ten cents per bushel. The farmers in this section are not aware how great a fertilizer of the soil it is;— but in all places where it is well known, there is a great demand for it, even at a much high er price than is asked for it here.—Manchester Mirror. Divorce in Oregon.—Nine causes for di vorce are admitted in Oregon, according to a law recently passed, viz.: adultery, impoten cy, bigamy, fraud or force in contract, wilful desertion for the space of two years, convic tion of infamous crime, habitual druukeness, cruel treatment, neglect to provide a home on the part of the hushaud, for six months.— The conjugal yoke rests lightly upon the peo ple of Oregon. The judges who decide in the matter of divorce, nre likewise to decide with reference to the disposal of the children of the sundered puirs, and the disposition of all property belonging to either—with ‘strict regard to the respective merits of the parties, apd to the condition in which they will be left by such a divorce, and to the party through whom the property was acquired, and to the burdens imposed upon it lor the benefit of children.’ ‘Well,’ said our Mrs. Partington, throwing down Putnam’s Monthly, ‘ Hnv’nt we a Bab oon among us?’ Why, want there one they called Young Prince, in Mr. Cucumber's grand call bang of raving nuiptale, and ’twas hard to extinguish him from our own starling offspring’s when playing wicb ’em he so much dissembled the denr little inhuman*.— But then, they try to make out this one the French Dolphin, but according to my intim idations 'tis all a fish story.’ Here the old lady commenced picking up the dropt stitch es in her knitting work. m —— -— An old bachelor who edit* a paper out South, heads bis |ist of marriages ‘Melau j choly accidents’—the brute. Broken Faith. Show m^n man tfiat ia capable of betray ing your confidence, and 1 will show you one, who, above all beings, is tbe meanest, basest, lowest, and most despicable of all that was ever made in tbe image of Deity. A man that will wantonly or maliciously dis close the secrets of a friend, would, if an op portunity should present itself, pick your pockets of a fourpence, or'steal the pewter from tbe head of a blind Digger’s caoe,' and then complain of him as a vagrant because it was not silver. What calamity ought not to overtake him, that would pump, and screw, and twist, and turn himself into all sorts of shapes, in order to draw from a friend some little secret, that he may satisfy his recreant disposition by retailing it out again, for ao earthly reason, but to allay hia cravings after something mean and dirty. I have known men—beg pardon—things, who are so pre eminently predisposed to perpetrate tha pal try and pusilanimoua practice of pilfering pet ty secrets from their friends, that when they luck an opportunity to do so, they will not hesitate to fabricate a little tale now and then, just to amuse themselves with till they can get hold of something having the very slightest particle of truth for its foundation. Out, I say, upon such pests of society_such vile compoundings of Judas Iscariots and Benedict Arnplds. For may it not be said that the principle of lying, slandering and betraying confidence— ia a triplex crown ot hell, sent as a curse uponourotherwise beau tiful earth ?— Olive Branch. To Make Drying Oil. Take any quantity of linseed oil, and put it in a clean iron pot, and haog it over aaJow fire, and wlieu it attains to a good heat, add lilhnrge and while vitriol (sulphrate of zinc) in very small quantities until the whole is added, when it should be boiled slowly for two or three hours. Twelve parts of lith arge to three of the sulphate of zinc, are em ployed, and two ounces of this mixture to one pint of oil, does very well. Ifnhese dry ing materials were added hastily to tbs oil, it would fume over on the fire. Care must he exercised to prevent such cm accident.— After the mixture is boiled for two or three hours, the oil is taken off, and suffered to cool, when a sediment falls to the bottom, nnd the clear is poured off as drying oil.— The sediment when mixed with whiting or ground chalk, and dry sand, makes a capital cement for filling in seams in the roofs of buildings, or any crack, to render tbe same impervious to water. It becomes as hatd as stone in course of a few week*, and is es pecially adnpted for the joints of stones in exposed situations. We have been enquired of by three or four corresjiondents lately re specting tJie above drying oil; we have only to add that if an ounce of rosin be added to every pint ofoil when boiling, it will irapreve the quality of the oil in no small degree. Showing the Dead.—Tliere is a curious custom at Havana, of laying out (todies in state during the night before burial. They are placed close to the open window,fronting the street, on a couch Taised four or five feel from the ground. The corpse is surrounded with high wax tapers, wlteii returning from a lerlulia or a ball, I have been startled by seeing the fixed and rigid features of some old gentleman or lady, dressed in their (test attire, and apparently reclining before a win dow. It used to appear an unnecessary mockery of death, dressing out a corpse In a new suit of clothes, with tight patent leather boots, and wliith neckcloth. I remember one night in particular, 1 was returning home through one of the hye-streets, when, seeing the lower windows of a house illuminated, and concluding there was n body lying in state, I went towards it. There, close to the window, bo close that I could have touched it through the bars, lay the body of a young girl about fifteen years of age. She was dressed as for a hall, with flowers in her hair, and white satin shoes on her feet— tier hands crossed on her breast, her eyes closed and her mouth, slightly opened ; .and together her face and expression was one of the most beau tiful 1 have ever seen.—Sullivan's Rambles. Underground Railroad. The N. Y. Journal of Commerce states that the N. Y. Tribune, which is likely to he well informed on the subject, says :— The New York branch of the underground Railroad has just elected a new Board of Di rectors, arid, as we understand*, is doing an extensive business in the forwarding line.— It is said that since the 1st January, 1853, no less than sixty-five passengers have been transported over this branch of the road, and that thirteen took passage for the North in one train last week. VVe see it staled that the busine'ss of this road is confined exclu sively to the passenger traffic ; that the trains nre all 'Express,* all run in a northerly direction, and issue no return tickets. Tins last circumstance arises from no indisposi tion on the part of the Company to enter into a fruitless competition with the powerful > Southern line, supported by the Government and the Union Safety Committee.” , Au amusing colloquy came off recently at (he supper table on board of one of our East ern steamboats, between a Boston exquisite, recking with hair-oil and Cologne, who was ‘demining’ the waiters, and otherwise assum ing very consequential airs, and a raw Jona than, who snt by his side dressed in home spun. Turning to his 'vulsali* friend, the for mer pointed his jewelled finger, and said : •Butter, sah !’ '] see it is,’ coolly replied Jonathan. ‘Butter, sah, I say!’ fiercely repeated the dandy. ‘1 know it—very good—a first rate article,’ provokingly reiterated homespun. 'Butter, 1 tell you !’ thundered the exquis ite in still louder tones, pointing with slow unmoving finger like scorn's, and scowling upon his neighbor os if he would annihilate hirn. ‘Well, gosh-nll-Jerusalem, tchat of it!* now yelled lite downeaster, getting his dandriff up in turn—‘Yer didn’t think I took it for lardV__ A fussy man makes a good deal of fun, es pecially when he travels. Jf he is not in a stew about his 'umbrell,’ he is on the worry a (tout his valise. He has terrible fears about the engine, nnd strongly suspects that the 'fellow in the low crowned hat’ has evil in tentions about his pocket book. The fussy man is always unhappy. His fears, suspi cions, and uueasiness cause him more trouble about nothing than a well-organized nervous system would experience from the loea of one steamship, two aunts, and a house dog. Property left by a Passenger in Rail way Car. According to a recent English decision, the law with regard to the finder of lost property does not apply to the case of property of a passenger accidentally left in a railway carringe, and found thereby a ser vant of the company; and such servant is guilty of larceny, it, instead of taking it to , the station or superior officer, he appropri ates it to hia own use. " A certain lawyer had his portrait taken in his favorite attitude—standing with his hands in his pockets. His friends and clients all went to see it, and everybody exclaimed, ‘ Oh, how like ! It’s the very picture of him !’ An old farmer only dissented. ‘Taint like?’ everybody exolaimed; just show us where ’taint like ?’ * ’Taint, no ’taint,’ responded the farmer.— ‘Don’t you see he has got his hand in his own pocket? Now ’twould be as like agin if ho had it in somebody’s else! If you feel like doing a generous action, do it at once. Put it off till to-morrow, and ten to one the present you intended for ‘pooT JetH ens,’ will be invested in a barrel of flour oc half a ton of anthracite. Benevolence is short-* lived ; like fresh shad, it most be indulged m to-day, or it will ‘spile.’ Why is a horse half' way through a gate like a half-penny ? Because there’s a bealf » at one side and a tail at the other,