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Sunday dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1845-1854, December 12, 1847, Image 1

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VOLIJ MT 3. XO. 2.
Entered according to the Act of Congress, by IKiUiamsm- >s* Burns.
FRANK CARTER;
©r, Abvmtinrcs of on <£ntl)usiool
In the City and the Wilderness.
BY THE AUTHOR OF “JACK LONG; OR SHOT IN THE EYE.”
CHAPTER 111.
THE SECRET CONCLAVE.
We return now to the mansion in Waverly
Place.
Its exterior is not changed since we saw it
first though several years have elapsed. Even
less change is apparent in the interior of that
magnificent parlor.
The chandelier—the drapery—the pictures
—the statuary—the sofas—all indeed look the
same.
It seemed as if the presence of the gray
haired Cedric, though he was far enough
away, still held that room and all that it con
tained—even to its very atmosphere—frozen
motionless as he had left it.
Out of doors the night was very gloomy
and the neighborhood was badly lighted. The
clock of St. John’s gave out that one melan
choly stroke, which sounds so like a wailing
■cry of the young day breaking upon the dark
silence of its mournful birth, and then one
after another the different quarters of the
great city took it up until it died away sob
bing on the distance.-
Now look into that silent parlor again, and
you will perceive two figures glide into it
noiselessly.
The doors and windows are all closed, and
you will observe that they must have found
some other mode of entre since they advance
from "behind that group of statuary in the
corner.
They etop beside the centre table, and be
neath the softened light of the chandelier.
The man who came forward with a light quick
step, as if he trod upon eggshells, has a very
pleasant face —for though the cut of his eye
brows be sharp and square, and that of his
eyes be sharp and hard, yet you feel that the
meliffluous mouth overcomes the face with
sweetness like a summer cloud; you cannot
well realize now the comparative and super
lative degrees of sharpness expressed in the
nose and chin, which neighbor’ that placid
nectary of smiles. The smooth forehead was
so disproportionably expanded above the tem
ples that you would have thought the outline
of the face resembled that of a fox, but that it
was all so delicately blanched that it was im
possible to associate an image of gross ani
mality with it—especially since that acute
chin rested open a snowy neckcloth, which
was duly relieved by a full suit of irreproach
able black.
This person might readily have been placed
in the catalogue of saints, but whether among
those who have been sanctified by their jje
rllii*urr-*■■ ,-'i.—; or fo that Pagan
deity of Wall street—the god Mammon —
might perhaps be cautiously doubted.
He has a quick, imperative manner about
him, as if accustomed to command. If there
were no wriakles on his brow, the spirit of
them so rested there, that you thought in ma
thematics—from magnetic sympathy—in his
presence—and were not surprised to see the
slave behind him look, act, and speak like a
machine. This man pressed the same con
cealed spring that we once saw the gray haired
Cedric press, and up flew a segment of the
table.
He took out sundry packages »f sealed let
ters, which from the diversity of the post
office stamps, seemed to have come from all
quarters of the Union, and even the distant
extremes of the continent.
The negro placed a chair behind him and
retreated to a respectful distance—standing
as if en drill.
The van sat down, and stooping low over
the table, as if near-sighted, broke seal after
seal in quick succession, and glancing rapidly
down the sheets laid the letters aside.
It was impossible to perceive anything in
his expression as he read, until at last he came
to one which was greatly soiled and had
several post-marks upon it.
This one he opened with a nervous eager
ness, which was quite perceptible, and bent
lower than ever while he read.
He had finished and rose quickly.
“ Dick, it is time they were coming—go
and unbolt the basement door of the back
alley I”
“ Yes, sir!” said the negro, and he wheeled
about mechanically to execute his mission.
■ “ Stop there, Dick ! are you sure our Cap
tain of Police is on duty to-night.’”
“ J’lieve he is, sir.”
“ There must be no doubt about it. Run
back into Washington Place and see if he is
on the look out. Tell him to count the men
who enter the alley carefully, and look sharp
for lurkers in the neighborhood.”
“Yea sir.”
“ And look yeu, master Dick!—be very sure
of The Wrrd before you let any man in below
there!”
“ Yes sir,” and the negro marched off
alertly.” f
When he disappeared behind the group of
statuary, you might have heard a slight sound
os of sliding panels and then all was still again.
For fifteen minutes this man walked back
and forth, still holding that soiled letter in his
hand. Now and then he would pause by the
heap of opened letters on the table, take one
from it, stoop, glance over it, and lay it down
to resume his walk.
A slight sound has reached his acute ear,
and he reseats himself quickly and appears to
be absorbed with the letters.
A tall man, whose face and figure is com
pletely shrouded in a long black cloak, enters
with a noiseless step from behind the group
of statuary.
When this new comer had approached the
table, the man seated at it merely nods in re
cognition, as he looks up from his labor for a
moment.
The new comer acknowledges the recogni
tion in the same business-like manner, and
proceeds to divest himself of his large cloak
and broad brimmed hat in a very leisurely
manner.
This proceeding revealed the tall slim figure
of a very intellectual man, whose bright un
steady eye expressed a quick and volatile na
ture entirely in unison with that lithe and
supple frame.
He was dressed in the last degree of rich
and elegant fashion. He said, as he sank down
listlessly upen asela, —
“ You seem to have a heavy mail before
y«u, tn-night, Mr. Secretary. I hope there
is something from our nomadic President, for
it is full time we heard from him!”
" There is—and something of importance,
too—an you shall hear when the rest ar
rive !”
“ Glad of it, we want something to stir us
up ! What is it now—Financial, Commer
cial, Political or whatt”
“ Political 1”
•* I thought so, for it is time—high time !”
and he gave a long yawn and threw himself
back upon the sofa.
Attto nmeit wwttn per»o» sßtpr«l>y
tne same way ana in me same noisiess man
ner we have described. Before he had divest
ed himself of his cloak another followed, and
then soon another, until in a short time there
were ten men lounging, or standing in scatter
ed groups in that magnificent parlor. There
could be nn mistake as to the social rank of
these men.
It was stamped upon their fair intellectual
faces—expressed in their calm, possessed and
purpose—full bearing and advertised in their
faultless costume.
It requires “no ghost come from the
grave to tell” that they are all men of the
world—men of position, and refined cultiva
tion who know perfectly well what they are
about —whether it be for" evil or for good.
There was one prevailing trait which
characterized the expression of .this company
—nnt individually, but collectively—and that
was intellectual daring, a cutting, cold, cal
culating audacity of purpose and will.
There was no attempt at disguise beyond
that they had worn from the street. They
all seemed to know each other well, both per
sonally and socially, and out-door titles and
designations were used with the familiarity
and freedom that would have characterized a
meeting “ on change.”
The banker, merchant, politician, lawyer,
doctor, gentleman, poet, editor, and priest,
had evidently met there in that gorgeous
room to hear something of importance from
the mellifluous lips of that pale, sharp-faced
gentleman in black, who sat beside the. cen
tre table still bending over his letters.
This person looked up at last and glaucing
his eye quickly around the room, said in a
clear formal tone.
“ I believe all are here. Gentlemen shall
we proceed to business ?”
There was a general rustling through the
room as those who stood, seated themselves,
and those who were seated at a distance drew
nearer the centre-table.
I am prepared, as usual, gentlemen, with
a full synopsis of our correspondence since
we met last night. It is more than usually
voluminous and brings us many items of
startling intelligence.
“ First, we have news from our commer
cial agent at New Orleans—which has been
sent through, at an expense of over a thou
sand dollars and which is twenty-four hours
ahead of ths mail, and twelve ahead of any
other express.
“He says that up to the moment of dis
patch cotton had risen two cents with a
steady determination upward—thinks it. will
reach three on account of the heavy orders
from England. Here is the letter, if yon de
sire to look at it.”
He handed it as he spoke to the nearest
person who passed it on and so it went
round.
It was curious, though, to observe that
while the politician, the lawyer, and the priest
detained the letter long enough to read it
carefully through to the last line, the banker,
the merchant, the doctor, the editor, the
poet, and the gentleman merely passed it on
without looking at its contents at all.
They knew themselves, and knew their
man— therefore were they satisfied, the others
had lived so habitually in the atmosphere of
distrust that they were now unconsciously
incapable of doing either.
While the sensation caused by this intelli
gence was yet buzzing the roem in a low
voiced commentary, the technical secretary
in his clear formal tones and sweetly placid
manner, went on with his synepsis.
“ Another is from our trusty agent of man
ufactures in Massachusetts who speaks in
glowing terms of the spread of our system of
Industrial Monopoly in that State, and says
that our mills are becoming the sole and cen
tral arbiters of labor and are rapidly absorb
ing every lorm of production on a small
scale, and that even independent agriculture
had begun to feel and ack»owledge the power
of »ur combinations.
“ He mentions that the Wool-growing dis
tricts are at our feet already, and thinks that
our system of espoinage and individual de
nunciation, if inexorably persevered in, will
awe these small farmers and the operatives
of our mills into subjection aid that we shall
soon control the value of produce and prices
of labor as we proposed.
“ He mentions the names of several of our
agents whose conduct should be inquired into,
as they exhibit a faint-hearted disinclination
to push our great idea, and are beginning to
cant about the ci'uelty of crushing the poor
operatives.
“ You perceive it is necessary they should
be attended to promptly, since the third sec
tion of. our constitution expressly provides
that all disaffected opiniative and fanatical
persons who may be discovered among our
employees, in this as well as some other de
partments of our operations,must be dismissed
and provided for.”
“ Yes, yes!” “ Down with them !” “ They
must be seen to at once !” “We will ballot
to-night for who shall go to see to this mat
ter !” and such like expressions ran around
the room when the pale secretary paused.
“ Here is the letter, gentlemen,” and it was
formally passed around as the first had been.
“ Here are several other letters from our
New England agents, with regard to improve
ments in labor-saving machinery, which re
quire our careful supervision, for they contain
unusually important suggestions. They de
velope several important agents of monopoly
in manufactures, which cannot be passed by
without our careful regard—but these must
lay over for action to-morrow, as we have
more pressing business on hand to night.”
“ That will do. Put them aside.”
“ Here is a letter with regard to the Dick
son property, in Apalachicola, Florida. Our
agent writes that the widow has been fright
ened by the costs of the suit with which he
has threatened her, and desires a compromise.
She will take ten thousand dollars in hand
and surrender her right to us. Here is the
letter. Shall we make the appropriation,
gentlemen ?”
There was a pause while the letter was
handed around, and then a few hurried words
of consultation The whole party rose to
their feet.
The secretary glanced coldly around upon
them and muttered, as he made a note upon
the sheet before him,
“ Unanimous ! That is done with.”
They sat down and he resumed,
“ Here are some thirty letters from various
quarters of the Union, mostly of minor im
portance, considering the business we have
yet before us. They are all favorable as they
refer to the general success of our late issue
of bank notes, through the new process of
chemical transfer, for which we have paid,
such eawnws It appeus that no
discovery has been made, nor any suspicion
been awakened as yet—so that the prospects
seem to be that our investment of capital in
this direction will be in a short time trebled.
There are the letters, and you will please
distribute them among yourselves to be com
pared at our next meeting.”.
Some slight symptoms of enthusiasm were
elicited by this disclosure, and there was
quite a noise of rustling paper as the
were picked up at random, folded and deposit
ed in the pockets of those present—with the
purpose that all might be verified by com
parison of the truth of what they had heard,
when they next met again. The interruption
lasted but for a moment, and then all was si
lence, while they resumed thair seats.
The secretary took up another paper from ’
the table, and shaking it slightly in his hand,;
towards them, went on : I
“ Here we have an interesting report from j
our chief of police in this city. We have j
first, as usual, all the crimes of the month, ■
with the names, characters, residences and I
haunts of all the criminals.
“ I observe that there is quite a number of
suspected persons, who have been “ spotted”
as such by the city police, who are in our
employ. This only calls for greater watch
fulness on our part. There are several names
presented which particularly demand our at
tention. They are those of persons who have
been sent to the Tombs, to Blackwell’s, and
to Sing Sing, for sundry crimes, and are now
at large.
“ But our report represents them as per
sons of indomitable energy —extraordinary
recklessness and daring; who have a rude
eloquence which can impress the mob. These
men have clutched the agrarian ideas of re
form, and are exerting an immense influence
with the laboring classes. They have already
organised extensively. They have clubs and
papers, and are prepared to exert a very for
midable influence in this city, and through the
country, upon the coming Presidential elec
tion. We must see to, and propitiate these
gentlemen, as you will clearly perceive. The
estimated cost is fifty thousand dollars. Here
are the names.
“You will perceive that this expenditure
refers only to these leaders—for the people
must have a powerful watchword, if we ex
pect to lead them; even all our enormous
capital will not bribe the masses, while a sim
ple ivord will arm them to follow as trusting
ly as sheep to the shambles, at the heels of
their shepherd.
“ I think, however, that the vote with re
gard to expenditure had better not be taken
until our next meeting, as I have yet some
most important matter to submit!”
The report was rapidly glanced over, and,
as the names were read, the idea that these
men—whom they all knew—were to be se
cured, was unanimously recognised; but it
was hastily laid by, for it was now very lute,
and all knew that the secretary had reserved
the most important communication for the
last.
rle drew the soiled letter from his pocket, j
and with great, deliberation proceeded to un- ’
fold it.
“ That must be from our President 1”
“ What has he to say ?”
“ Let us hear 1”
The secretary proceeded with great deliber
ation, and in the same tone:
“ We have first the fact that he is upon the
extreme frontier of Upper Missouri, and
writes from the home he established several
years since amidst the Indians. He has just
returned from an extended excursion through
the valley of the Mississippi, and all the
principal States and towns ef the great South
West.
“He has been remarkably successful, and
sends a long list of agents who will circulate
our new issue and correspond regularly. He
has been successful in propitiating the fron
tiersmen and desperadoes. He furnishes as
an illustration of the utility of these men, the
fact, that one of the latter took up the, trail of
the absconding traitor JVeves, where he had
lost sight of it at Natchez, and after a patient
pursuit of three manths, found him at Little
Rock, and succeeded in shooting him through
the head from the ‘ bush,’ and effected his es
cape without suspicion.”
This announcement,which wasmade in the
most business-like tone, was received with
quite a rustling of involuntary applause which
even took the farm of ejaculatory expression,
“ Good ?”
“ The rascal! It must have cost something
—for it is nearly eight years that we have
been on his track!”
Yes; we are down for a round sum in
that affair, of course—but I shall go my quota
cheerfully—such oxamples must be made of
those who are traitors to our trust, if it took
twenty years, instead of eight or ten !”
“ True ! We are not secure tor a moment
otherwise ?”
“ He notes this as a credit of two thousand
dollars in his favor !”
“ Cheap enough—for se many years,” said
the tall, elegant man who first entered.
The placid secretary proceeds—
“ He thinks that he has atlastconsummated
the great purpose for which we have so long
and patiently labored. He pronounces the
great South-west as fully prepared for a war
of conquest with Mexico.
“ The secret society organized by him .so
many years ago, has spread and prospered won
derfully.
“ This resurrection of the grand scheme of
his patron and teacher, Burr—which he af
fected so long ago, and has worked at with
such indomitable purpose ever since—has, af
ter including among its sworn supporters two
Presidents and four great popular leaders, re
sulted in the annexation of Texas.
“ Now, he says, the people have grappled
in earnest with the magnificent idea, with all
its vast consequences and nothing can stay
their resistless will.
“At the coming Baltimore Convention it is
determined to throw aside the old ‘ King of
Trumps’ on bath sides, and take up that
new ‘ Ace ef Spades ’ which will open our
way to the mines of Mexico.
“ Who he is to be depends upon his avail
ability—but an apt pupil of Jackson and the
old regime of Democracy is to be preferred.
“ This is determined upon ajd no power
upon earth can prevent its consummation. It
is our old purpose and the whole strength of
our immense capital and extended chain of
influence is to be cast in its favor I”
“Now, gentlemen—what do you think?”
The sharp-eyed secretary looked around
with a keen unimpassioned glance into the
faces of those about him.
The proposition was tremendously startling
and some of the well-schooled faces there be
trayed that they felt it te be so.
The smooth-tongued placid secretary con
tinued in the same tohe, as he handed over the
letter,
“ You perceive that he furnishes a list of
names from north, south, east and West, who
are solemnly sworn to support this movement
and this nomination.
If you look at the list cajefully you will
NEW YORK, SUNDAY MORNING, DECEMBERIB47.
perceive'that they are all veritable signatures,
and it presents an arrray of names, powerful
enough if united, to tear to pieces and utterly
subvert the Federal constitution.
“The movement is evidently matured, and
we have but to resolve and it is consum
mated !”
The paper was passed around, and this
time carefully examined by every one.
No one seemed to be taken entirely by sur
prise—but all were astonished by the sudden
ness with which the question involving such
great consequences had been presented for
their adjudication.
But these were prompt men —prepared by
their previous training and thought to act in
any emergency. There was a pause of some
fifteen minutes, during which the letter and
list were examined, and some consultation in
an undertone went on, and then one of them
said in a sh«rp impatient voice—
“ We are ready for a vote, Mr. Secretary,
upon this letter —in approval or disapproval
of its contents—appropriations—vengeane* —
politics and all.”
“ Gentlemen approving, will rise !”
They all rose simultaneously, and there
was a general movement towards cloaks and
hats, as for a breaking up—when the Secretary
said, in a shrill loud voice,
“ Gentlemen, there is yet another letter to
which I would attract your attention. It is
from our Vice President, Newnon Clenny,
who dates from the St. Charles’ Hotel, New
Orleans.”
“ Well, what does he say—in short ? Let
us hear!”
“It is—that Frank Carter proves to be a
dreamy enthusiast, and he fears is an incor
rigible fool of whom we can make nothing.
For some silly whim he has broken his en
gagement with the daughter of old Haynes,
and is about pushing off to the Rocky Moun
tains on a vague and boyish adventure. I fear
that our schemes with regard to those two en
ormous estates are to be greatly compromised
by the eccentricities of this unripe whipstar.
Clenny thinks there is something available in
him yet, and proposes to keep by him through
this new enterprise.”
“ Clenny is in earnest and the boy is safe
enough in his hands. If I had any designs
upon the moials of Lucifer himself, I should
send Clenny to him with his subtle sneer.
But it is late—we must go.”
This was said by the tall, elegant man as he
threw on his cloak, and they all started to
wards the group of statuary.
“ One moment more, gentlemen !” said the
secretary rising. “ What do you say to the ap
propriation spoken of in the report of our
Chief of Police ?”
“ You must have it!”
“ You must have it,of course!” said several,
while all nodded assent.
“ Certainly,” said the tall man, *‘ we have
just resalved to bait the Bear of Conservatism
and we must find our bull dogs ir> butcher’s
meat!”
With a slight laugh lhey all disappeared.
Tu a few moments that large parlor was
left alone with the silence and its statues.
[To be continued.!
Sentimental Music.
BY F. G. HALLECK.
Sounds as of far off bells came on his ears-,
He fancied ’twas the music of the spheres;
Ho was mistaken—it was no such thing;
’Twas Yankee Doodle, played by Scudder’s band.*
He muttered, as he lingered, listening,
Something of freedom, and our happy land !
Then sketched, as to his home he hurried fast,
This sentimental song—his saddest, and his last:
“ Young thoughts have music in them, love
And happiness their theme;
And music wanders in the wind
That lulls a morning dream.
And there are angel voices heard,
in childhood’s frolic hours,
When life is but an April day,
Of sunshine and of flowers.
“ There’s music in the forest leaves
When summer winds are there;
And in the laugh of forest girls
That braid their sunny hair.
The first wild bird that drinks the dew
From violets of the spring.
Has music in his song, and in
The fluttering of his wing.
“ There’s music in the dash of waves,
When the swift bark cleaves their foam;
There’s music heard upon her deck—
The mariner’s song of home—
When moon and star-beams, smiling, meet,
At midnight, on the sea:
And there is music once a week
In Scudder’s balcony.
“ But the music of young thoughts too soon
Is faint, and dies away,
And from our morning dreams we wake
To curse the coming day.
And childhood’s frolic hours are brief,
And oft, in after years,
Their memory comes to chill the heart,
And dim the eye with tears.
“ To-day the forest leaves are green:
They’ll wither on the morrow,
And the maiden’s laugh be changed, ere long,
To the widow’s wail of sorrow.
Come with the winter snows, and ask
Where are the forest birds;
The answer is a silent one,
More eloquent than words.
“ The moonlight music of the waves
In storms is heard no more,
When the livid lightning mocks the tvrock
At midnight on the shore;
And the mariner’s song of home has ceased—
His corse is on the sea;
And music ceases, when it rains.
In Scudder’s balcony.”
* Now the American Museum. The music was
then execrable. Just after the Astor was opened,
old Dwight Boyden began to curse the Museum
because of the music, Scudder walked over and asked
Boyden what he would contribute to have the musi
cians play the entire day as well as the evening!
—[Eds. Dispatch.
[Original.]
Woman ;
HER HISTORY, CHARACTER, CONDI
TION, MANNERS AND CUSTOMS,
IN ALL AGES AND NATIONS.
PART TWO.
Anatomically and Physiologi
cally Considered.
In most of the higher orders of animals
there is a marked difference in the forms of
the two sexes; but it is curious to observe
that, while among animals, both birds and
quadrupeds, the male is generally much su
perior in appearance to the female, we uni
formly give to woman the palm of superior
beauty.
Thus among birds, the peacock, and the
males of the turkey, pheasant, barn fowl, &c.
are quite magnificent in form and gorgeous in
plumage: the male lion has a noble mane and
majestic appearance, quite wanting in the fe
male —the horse is larger and of fiaer shape
and action than the mare. We need not mul
tiply familiar instances.
In animals too, there is another remarkable
superiority belonging to males. They are
superior to the other sex in musical abilities.
It is chanticleer that wakes the world with
his eloquence. The hen does not crow—she
cackles and clucks. It is the roar of the male
lion that shakes the forest—the female has a
savage yell. Among singing birds the male is
uniformly the most highly gifted. But in the
human race, all this is reversed; since our
females are not only the most beautiful but
the most melodious —and woman, if not the
most useful of the two sexes, is certainly the
most ornamental.
Women are of less size than men, on the
average ; for while we have women six feet
tall, comparing with men who are four or
five inches higher, we have a still larger
number under five feet, comparing with men
of a similar standard.
Anatomical, women differ from men, also,
in having smaller bones, a greater breadth of
the pelvis, a narrower chest, a greater fullness
of the cellular tissue, giving roundness of
form, a softer and smoother skin, finer hair,
longer and more baautiful upon the head, but
less developed over the face and body; « more i
delicate neck, which is destitute of the prom
inence, so strongly marked in men; and a
head so differently shaped that it is perfectly
easy to distinguish the sex from the skull
alone.
Hang up a male and female skeleton,
side by side, and the difference in the shape of
the bones, and the form of the head is very
striking.
The female head is smaller than the male,
in the ratio nearly, of four to five. It is much
longer from the os frontis to the apex of the
occiput, narrower from side to side, and not
so high.
By the rules of Phrenology, this difference
in the form of the male and female head, cor
responds to certain differences of character in
the sexes, which cannot be more properly
stated, thanin this connection.
The superior length of the female brain,
is owing to the greater development of the
organs of Philoprogenitiveness, Adhesiveness,
and Inhabitiveness, the love of offspring, the
propensity to form permanent connections
and the love of home.
Women are more devoted to their children,
than men, more constant in their matrimo
nial connections, and fonder of home. This
is doubtless true, as a general rule, admitting
of individual exceptions ; and where a woman
is found wanting in these respects, she
in so much, from the natural character of her
sex.
Woman, as is shown by the smallness of
the upper part of the neck, have a less devel
opment of amativeness than men. They
have less self-esteem but more love of appro
bation—or, in other words, less pride and
more vanity. They have less firmness, and
more reverence —less destructiveness and
combativeness, but more secretiveness and
acquisitiveness—or, rather, we should say,
that woman, with all these organs weaker
than in men, have them developed in these
varying proportions.
The front part of the head indicates in
woman, strong perceptive faculties, but less
judgment, and of the reasoning faculties more
comparison than causality. They have more
ability for color and less for form. Wo
men have more piety than men, and less be
nevolence—but this they make up for in being
more affectionate.
These are some of the differences of the
two sexes, corresponding with, and probably
depending upon different physical develop
ments. They are subject to many exceptions;
for in countries where women have been
forced to perform the labors and assume the
duties of the other sex, they have become
masculine in their appearance, and men also,
by an opposite course, become effeminate.
Thus as we shall have occasion more particu
larly to notice hereafter, there is a nation in
Africa, in which the occupations of the sexes
are entirely changed. The men of the Suli
mas milk the cows and attend to the dairy,
while the women build houses and plaster
walls ; the men do the sewing and washing of
tho farnily, while the woman perform the
labors of husbandry, and the duties of bar
bers and surgeons. Here we should doubt
less find the women bold, rough and mascu
line in appearance, and the men weak and
effeminate in the same ( degree.
Though women differ extremely in differ
ent countries, from the Australian and Afri
can savage tribes, to the most refined portion
of the Caucassian race—though they vary
widely in the same race, owing to differences
of conditiop ; still woman is every where the
type of the beautiful. In the higher races,
the smallness of her bones, the round
ness of her muscular developements give
to her form the most perfect outlines. In
men are large joints, strongly defined muscles,
and the lines approach the angular. In well
formed women, from the crown of the head
to the sole of the foot nothing is seen but a
constant succession and variety of the most
beautiful curves that can be conceived.—
Every where is seen Hogarth’s line of beauty,
in its highest perfection.
We will not decide whether the soul forms
the body, or the body contracts the develop
ment of the soul. It is the question between
the spiritualist and the materialist, which we
do not propose to discuss: but no observer of
nature can doubt that these developments
very exactly correspond with each other.—
Man has strength and energy—woman beauty
and delicacy. Man’s intellect is powerful
woman’s is active and refined. A woman as
energetic in person, or as powerful in intellect
as the strongest or most intellectual man,
must be considered as an exception to the
general law of nature. We shall have occa
sion to notice many such; but they are not
the less exceptions to the general law of sex
ual development; and no careful observer
can doubt that the difference in mind, senti
ments, and passions existing between the two
sexes, is as great as the difference in bodily
conformation. A feminine man and a mascu
line woman are alike properly considered
terms of reproach.
It is to be observed, that as the most striking
peculiarities of the two sexes are not devel
oped until a certain period of life, so the most
strongly marked differences in appearance,
are not till then manifested. The general ap
pearance, tone of voice, and manners of boys
and girls do not very remarkably differ. Dressed
exactly alike, the anatomical differences alone
would distinguish them. But at a certain age,
varying in the extremes from twelve to six
teen in females; and from fifteen to twenty in
males; a striking change in form, appearance,
and disposition is manifested, and the charac
teristics of the perfect human being in both
sexes become fully developed. For the par
ticulars of these remarkable changes, with all
the phenomena of which, every person should
be acquainted—we refer the reader to the
standard works of physiology.
Naturalists have made five grand divisions
of the human race—and these answer for gen
eralizations ; but we shall find great differ
ences to exist in all these ; and that they are
so intermixed, as in many cases to make it
very difficult to be distinguished.
Women of the Caucasian race are distin
guished by a white and smooth skiu, rendered
more beautiful by a rosy hue in the cheeks,
and at the extremities of the hands and feet,
regular features, eyes of varying shades of
black, hazel and blue, long glossy hair ef
various shades.
This is the race of the highest civilization ;
and unquestionably of the highest style of
beauty, for it is by no means true that the
negro thinks black the preferable color. The
experience of voyagers and travellers abun
dantly proves that the Caucasian is recognised
by every other as the highest race; a fact
which will be fully illustrated in future num
bers.
The race of the other extreme is the negro.
These have a black skin, exhaling an odor, as
offensive as that of the Caucasian of the finest
type is fragrant and delicate; short, coarse
hair, crisply curled like wool; prominent
lower jaw, and broad and prominent cheek
bones, a wide flat nose, thick lips, and long
fingers, long feet, with projecting heels, and
other equally striking peculiarities.
Between these extremes, are the' Asiatic,
the Moorish, and American races; of the
female beauties and deformities, virtues and
vices of which, we shall have occasion to
treat very fully of hereafter.
[Original.]
anb Events
hi American History.
NITMBER TWO.
Timely Supplies.
Boston was evacuated by the British army
on the sth of March, 1776. The ships of
war, transports, etc, dropped down to
the lower harbor, where they laid for
two or three days, and then sailed for Hali
fax.
On the evening of the sth of March, a
Salem pilot with his two sons, well grown
and stout, and a negro, were laying in their
snug little craft far out in the bay of Massa
chusetts, watching a vessel which had just
hove in sight and was moving up with a very
slight breeze.
“ That’s the craft boys,” the old pilot ex- =
claimed, after surveying her for a few mo- ■
ments with his keen, gray eyes. “ King !
George will lose some powder to-night—eh !
boys ?” • ■■
“ And a gun or two to fire it off with,” put.
in one of the youngsters.
“ Yes,” added the other, “ and Ju'pe here
shall get red jackets enough to make his j
wife a dozen flannel petticoats against next;
winter.”
The negro grinned with delight at the pros
pect of such a present for his black Venus.
“ Now boys, out of sight, and Jupe, do you
get for’ard there and make yourself as busy ;
in doing nothing, as you can. Four of us I
might excite suspicion on board.
An hour later and the strange vessel hailed
the little pilot sloop—
“ Pilot ahoy I”
“ Ay, aye sir,” responded the old man.
“ What’s the news in Boston ?”
“ All’s right there sir.”
“ Well, can you get me in to-night ?”
“It ’ll be rather late sir, perhaps not before
day break.”
“ Come on board.”
“ All’s right boys” the old man whispered
to his sons ; do you get on board as well as
you can, after I am once on deck. And Jupe,
you go along with me.”
The two small sails of the pilot boat were
taken down, and she came gently along side
of the strange vessel. The old pilot and the
negro went up the side, and before the men
on board could slack the hauser to let the
boat fall astern, the two youngsters had slung
themselves by the rigging to the side of the
stranger, and now waited quietly for the sig
nal to spring on board.
Meanwhile the pilot was talking with the
Captain of the vessel, which proved to be the
expected store ship from New York; having
on board two hundred Barrels of powder,
pieces of field artillery, five hundred stand of
small arms and other valuable supplies for
the Ministerial army then supposed to be
besieged in Boston.
The crew of the vessel consisted of the cap
tain, mate and six seamen; there were on
boai-d ten soldiers, all of whom had gone be
low, leaving their arms piled around the main
mast on deck.
“ Does that Yankee rabble still keep toge
ther around Boston ?” asked the Captain.
“ They are all together yet,” the pilot an
swered, “ but I hear that some of them are
going off soon.”
“If they’ll only stop a month longer, his
Majesty’s soldiers will have the pleasure of
hanging the d d rebels,” the captain re-
marked.
“ No doubt, no doubt,” rejoined the pilot,
“ but we ought to be making better way; the
breeze is freshening” and the old man as he
spoke walked to the side, and looking over,
asked in a whisper,
“ Are you there, youngsters ?”
“ All right, dad,” was the reply.
“ Then get over as quick as you can, and
knock down the four men for'ard.”
The pilot walked aft to the cabin gangway,
where the captain and mate stood together in
conversation. With a motion of his hand to
Jupe, who was by his side, the negro under
stood that he was to take possession of the
muskets around the mainmast. The old pilot
saw Jupe at his post, waited until he heard
the sound of a sudden fall forward, and then
turning quickly, he seized the captain by the
neck and legs and pitched him head foremost
down the cabin gangway. Before the mate
could interpose, he was sent in the same expe
ditious manner to join his commander on the
cabin floor. The gangway was secured, and
the old man sprang forward to find that his
brave boys had accomplished their part
of the enterprize. The four seamen on deck
had been knocked down the forecastle hatch,
when the other four men were asleep, and
the lads were busily coiling the chain over
the closed hatclT.
The brave old pilot and his two sons were
masters of the vessel, and before day break
the next morning, she was lying at Long
Wharf, the valuable cargo in possession of
the patriot army. To avoid the British ves
sels, which lay in the main channel, a small
narrow channel, known as the “gut,” had to
be taken. Its passage was most difficult, but
the old pilot felt his way in, and secured his
important prize. He was publicly thanked
by General Washington, and the patriotic
citizens of Boston invited him to dinner, but
the old man was anxious to return home and
no entreaty could alter his resolution. It
was destined that he should pay a heavy
penalty for his gallant exploit.
The British through their spies in Boston
had heard of the capture of their store ship,
and learning also that the pilot who effected
it, was to return to Salem, they sent six or
seven boats off Nahant to intercept him. A
desperate running fight ensued, the pilot his
boys and the negro kept at bay the boats,
actually beating off two which got along side
of their own, and at last got into Salem.
But the brave old man was riddled with shot,
and died an hour after reaching home. The
boys, though severely wounded, recovered and
did good service to their country throughout
the war. Jupe, the negro, escaped without a
! scratch and lived to narrate the exploit, fifty
years afterward.
Ashamed at Last. —Nothing makes a
young man, who is generally impervious to
blushes, so ashamed of himself, as being
caught at Doctors’ Commons looking over the
will of the father of the young lady whom he
is courting from a feeling of" the purest affec
tion.
The more we have of good instruments,
the better; for, all my little children, not ex
cepting my youngest daughter, learn to play,
and are preparing to fill my house with har
mony against all events, that, if wo have
worse time, we mty have better spirits.—Bi
shop Berkeley.
Of?- Jean Paul, that wicked satirist of wo
mankind, thus closes a paragraph : Even in
church, the women sing an octave higher than
the men, in orier not to agree with themjin
any thins.”. -
The Tiller of the Soil. J
BY DAVID L. ROATH. {
A hardy, sunburnt man is he, .
A hardy, sunburnt man; J
No sturdier man you’ll ever see, <
Though all the world you scan.
In summer’s heat, m winter’s cold, }
You’ll find him at his toil—
h. Oh, far above the knights of old, i
13 the Tiller of the Soil.
No weighty bars secure his door.
No difeh is dug around; ;
His walls no cannon bristle o’er,
No dead lie on his ground.
A peaceful laborer is ho,
Unknown in Earth’s turmoil— f
From many crushing sorrows free,
Is the Tiller of the Soil. |
His stacks are seen on every side, ]
His barns are filled with grain.
Though others hail not fortune’s tide, <
He labors not in vain.
The land gives up its rich increase, J
The sweet reward of toil;
And blest with happiness and peace, S
Is the Tiller of the Soil. 1
He trudges out at brea k of day,
And takes his way 1
And as he turns the yielding clay,
He sings a joyful song.
He is no dull, unhappy wijjht.
Bound in misfortune’s coil; 1
The smile is bright, the heart is light.
Of the Tiller of the Soil. (
And when the orb of day hath crown’d J
With gold the western sky,
Before his dwelling he is found.
With cheerful faces by—
Witn little laughing duplicates.
Caresses will not spoil;
Oh, joy on every side awaits
'J^he‘Tiller of the Soil. ’
A hardy, sunburnt man is he,
A hardy, sunburnt man;
But who can boast a hand so free,
As he, the Tiller, can ?
Nor summer’s heat, nor winter’s cold,
The pow’r has him to foil;
Oh, far above the knights of old,
Is the Tiller of the Soil.
2L-T.LI ..!!!!! j
[Original.]
World’s Ivcformcre
OR THE LIVES OFTHE MOST REMARKA
BLE TEACHERS OF MANKIND, IN PHI
LOSOPHY, RELIGION, MORALS AND
LEGISLATION.
NUMBER TWO.
Zoroaster.
There are few things in history, about which
the learned have found or made more difficul
ties, than in regard to the period in which
lived the great reformer of Central Asia, the
renowned Zoroaster; or, as he is sometimes
called Zerdusht From the different dates
set down as his era, it has been supposed that
there were five or six different persons bear
ing this name or title, and variously distin
guished.
Sopje identified Zoroaster with Moses, and
with other Jewish Prophets—while the
Greeks made the period of his life, 9000 years
before Plato.
But after* comparing various accounts, and
sifting all opinions, we come to the conclusion
that there was but one Zoroaster, and that he
was the contemporary of Confucius; having
been born at Urmia, in Media, in the reign of
Lohrasp, the father of Gushtasp, who was the
Darius Hystaspes of the Greek authors, about
580 years before Christ.
His parents were of a noble family, though
of humble condition. This is quite a matter
of course. Every great man is found by his
biographers, to have been of noble descent
Even the founder of Christianity, had his de
scent traced back to royalty, and that, by
two seperate genealogies. Some of the East
ern aatlioi-a trace the lineage of Zoroaster’s
father, Perusfiasp, back toFeridoon. Daghda,
the mother of Z oroaster, is said to have been
of princely descent, and a lady of remarkable
virtue, as to have attracted the favor of the
Deity, who, by means of magic dreams, fore
told to her the future greatness of her yet un
born child.
The birth of Zoroaster, as related in histo
ries devoutly believed in Persia, and by the
sects of Parsees throughout central and south
ern Asia, was attended by such prodigies and
miracles, as made it evident that the new
born infant had come into the world to fulfil
a divine mission to his race. Pliny mentions
that Zoroaster laughed the day he was born,
and that his brain palpitated so violently as to
repel the hand that was placed upon it.
Are we to believe the hundred miracles re
lated by various authors and averred to have
occurred on the birth of this great reformer ?
This is a question upon which we beg leave
to suspend our opinions. Every one must be
governed by his measure of reason and faith.
One thing, however, is sure. As miracles
were anciently connected with the birth and
career of every great reformer, they prove the
high influence obtained by Zoroaster, and the
remarkable respect shown to his memory, by
his posterity.
Zoroaster passed the years of his infancy, in
the quiet seclusion of his native village ; but,
at a very early age, he turned his attention to
the study of nature, and that he might the
better devote himself to learning, he retired
to the deep caverns of the mountain Elbrooz;
where, for a period of 20 years, from the age of
10 to 30, all the flower of his life, he studied
language, history, natural science, magic, and
theology ; after which, he made his appear
ance as a teacher and reformer of morals, and
religion, at the court of Gushtasp, king of
Persia.
This circumstance of his seclusion for many
years, was common to many of the World’s
Reformers of ancient times ; and it might be
well perhaps for the moderns to follow their
example. The same fact is related of Con
fucius, of Vishnu, and many others —and, in
regard to' Zoroaster, it is corroborated by
many independent authorities.
It was during this retirement of twenty
years in the caves of Elbrooz, that the will
of the Supreme Being was made known to
Zoroaster. During this time, he appears to
have held intimate cemmunion with the spir
itual world ; and the evidences of his inspir
ation are of a very remarkable character—the
more, as they are so similar to all other in
spirations, from Moses and the Prophets to
Swedenborg and Andrew Jackson Davis.
While meditating upon the wonderful se
crets of nature in the caves of Elbrooz, the
angel Bahman, by command of Ormuzd, the :
Great Fire Spirit of the Universe, appeared
before Zoroaster. He was radiant, like the
sun; but his head was covered by a veil, and
said he to Zoroaster—“ Who art thou ? What
dost thou want ?”
Zoroaster answered: “ I seek only what is
agreeable to Ormuzd, who has created th»
two' worlds; but I know not what he re
quires of me. O thou, who art pure, show me
the way of the law.”
These words pleased Bahman; “ Rise,” said
he, “ to go before God; then thou shalt re
ceive the answer to thy request.”
Zoroaster rose and followed him. “ Shut
thine eyes and walk swiftly;” said the angel.
When Zoroaster opened his eyes, he saw
the glories of heaven. The angels met and
welcomed him. With them he approached
Ormuzd, to whom he addressed his prayer.
Ormuzd said to him ; “ Teach the nations that
my light is hidden under all that shines.
Whenever you turn your face to the light and
follow my commands, the spirit of darkness
will fly. In the Universe there is nothing
superior t« the light.
Ormuzd then gave to him the Zend Avesta,
or Holy Bible of the Persians; and the arch
angels conferred upon Zoroaster their several
powers and gifts; when he returned to
the earth to overthrow the false doctrines,
upheld by Magicians, and which had brought
misery on mankind.
Whatever faith we give to this accouutnof
[Original.]
the miraculous inspiration; it appears certain
that Zoroasternowappearedatthe court of his
Sovereign, who soon became a zealous and
powerful propagator of the doctrines he
taught. By order of the king, the sacred
books of the Zend Avesta were copied upon
parchment, and preserved with the greatest
care. These are said to have been destroyed
afterwards by order of Alexander the Great.
Zoroaster, not content with seeing his re
formed religion received in Persia, himself
promulgated it in Chaldea, and sent missiona
ries to India. Warsand persecutions grew
out of the spread of the new and purer reli
gion which he introduced, and Zoroaster is
said by some authors to have perished a martyr
to his doctrines. He died about 513 before
Christ, in the 76th year of his age.
Zoroaster taught that there had existed
from eternity two beings, Ormuzd, the spirit
of light and goodness, and Ahriman, the
spirit of darkness and evil; the two opposing
principles of the Universe. Ahriman was
originally light, but he envied the power of
Ormuzd, and became evil. These two ruling
spirits created the universe, good and bad
spirits, elements and worlds in six periods.
As Ormuzd created arch-angels, angels, and
the souls of men—Ahriman produced arch
devs, or devils; and innumerable devs of
i lower orders. For 3000 years, Ormuzd ruled
alone; then he created material beings in
their various degrees, at last man, and then
with all good spirits, rested from his labors
and celebrated the festival of the creation.
For 3000 years longer, he ruled over a world
of innocence and happiness; then commenc
ed the struggle of darkness with light, or
wickedness with righteousness. After an
other similar period evil disappears—the
dead are raised, and the whole earth rejoices
in the happiness of the reign of Ormuzd.—
The good will, at death, enter the abodes of
eternal happiness: the bad will descend to
hell, the abode of Shaitan and the devs of the
spirit of darkness.
But when Ahriman is conquered, the re
surrection of the body follows, and the earth
is adorned for the residence of the virtuous.
The worship of Zoroaster consisted of the
most simple and sublime invocations to the
Deity. The sun, light, and fire as the emblems
of truth, were looked upon as the visible signs
of the Divinity. In praying, the Persian
looks toward the sun, as the brightest image
of God; —but with the ignorant, this idea, so
simple and pure, may have degenerated into
idolatry.
The moral precepts of Zoroaster were
among the purest ever taught by any reform
er or prophet.
It was that men should adore and worship
God; that they should love and support their
parents, give alms to the poor, and never vio
late their word.
But the grand moral maxim of Zoroaster,
and the one which had he no other claim,would
have been sufficient to immortalize him, was
that if a man doubt the justice of any act,
let him abstain from it.
There are several points in the teachings of
Zoroaster, preserved in the Zend Avesta, of
the great antiqjjjty of which their can be no
doubt, which are worthy of notice.
Zoroaster teaches that the world was crea
ted at six periods, instead of the six days of
the Mosaic cosmogony; and Zoroaster is
borne out by all the discoveries of modern
science.
Zoroaster teaches the existence of a future
state of rewards and punishments, and the
existence of evil spirits, called devs, or shai
tan—while nothing like this can be found in
the books of Moses.
Zoroaster, at least 550 years before Christ,
taught the doctrine of the resurrection of the
body and the millenium, almost exactly as
now believed by a large portion of the Chris
tian world.
As a reformer of religion and morals, Zo
roaster must be considered as one of the most
remarkable men that have ever lived; and
while we may smile at the idea of his having
been divinely inspired, we cannot, consider
ing all the circumstances, but be astonished
at the doctrines he taught, which are all that
we can conceive of purity in morals and sub
limity in religion. Zoroaster, like Confucius,
a thousand miles eastward—the one in Persia,
the other in China, at the same time taught
men to adore God, to honor their parents, and
to deal justly and benevolently with each
other.
Swineherds ofthe Danube.
BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.
Before a little cottage, plastered of mud and
straw, sat an old swineherd, a real Hungarian,
and consequently a nobleman. Very often
had he laid his hand upon his heart, and said
this to himself. ‘The sun burnt hotly, and
therefore he had turned the woolly side of his
sheepskin outwards; his silver-white hair
hung around his characteristic brown coun
tenance. He had got a new piece of linen, a
shirt, and he was now preparing it for wear,
according to his own fashion, which was this:
he rubbed the fat of a piece of bacon into it;
by this means it would keep clean so much the
longer, and he could turn it first on one side
and then on the other.
His grandson, a healthy-loqking lad, whose
long black hair was smoothed with the same
kind of pomatum which the old man used to
his shirt, stood just by, leaning on a staff. A
long leathern bag hung on his shoulder. He
also was a swineherd, and this very evening
was going on board a vessel, which, towed by
the steamboat Eros, was taking a freight of
pigs to the imperial city of Vienna.
“ You will be there in five days,” said the
old man. “ When I was a young fellow, like
you, it used to take six weeks for the journey.
Step by step we went on, through marshy
roads, through forests, and over rocks. The
pigs, which at the beginning of the journey
were so fat that a few of them died by the
way, became thin and .wretched before we
came to oui* destination. Now, the world
i strides onward : everything gets easier!”
“ We can smoke bur pipes,” said the youth ;
“ lie in the sun in our warm skin-cloaks. Mea
dows and cities glide swiftly past us ; the pigs
fly along with us, and get fat on the journey.
That is the life !”
“ Everybody has his own notions,” replied
the old man; “ I had mine. There is a plea
sure even in difficulty. When in the forest I
saw the gipsies roasting and boiling, I had to
look sharply about me, to mind that my best
pigs did not get into their clutches. Many a
bit of fun have I had. I had to use my wits.
I was put to my shifts; and sometimes also
had to use my fists as well. On the plain be
tween the rocks, where, you know, the winds
are shut in, I drove my herd: I drove it
across the field where the invisible castle of
the winds is built. There was neither house
nor roof to be seen: the castle of the winds
can only be felt. I drove the herd through
the invisible chambers and halls. I could see
it very well; the wall was storm —the door
whirlwind ! Such a thing as that is worth all
the trouble; it gives a man something to talk
about. What do you come to know, you who
lie idling jn the sunshine, in the great float
ing pig-sty!” .
And all the time the old man was talking,
he kept rubbing the bacon-fat into his new
shirt. ,
“ Go with me to the Danube,” returned the
youth; “ there you will see a dance of pigs,
’all so fat, till they are ready to burst. They
do not like to go into the vessel; we drive
them with sticks ; they push, one against ano
ther ; set thsmselves across; stretch them
i selves out on the earth, run hither and thithei
however fat and heavy they may be. That is
a dance! You would shake your sides with
' laughing ! What a squealing there is. Al!
the musicians in Hungary could not make such
f a squealing as that out of all their
PRICE, THREE CENTS
let them blow as hard as they would! How
beautifully bright you have made your shirt
look; you can’t improve it. Go with me,—
now do—to the Danube! I’ll give you some
thing to drink, grandfather I ’ln four days I
shall be in the capital; what pomp and splen
dor I shall see there ! I will buy you a pair
of red trousers and plaited spurs!”
The old swineherd proudly lifted his head;
regarded the youthful Magyar with flashing
eyes; hung his shirt on the hack in the wall
of the low mud cottage, in which there was
nothing but a table, a bench, and a wooden
chest; he nodded with his head, and muttered
to himself. “ Nemes-ember van, nemes-em
ber en es vagyok.” (He is a nobleman; lam
also a nobleman!)
Humors of the English Alphabet.
The following, which we cut from an En
glish Journal, will give the reader a goed
idea of the difficulties and irregularities of
our native tongue:
E is one of the privileged types: if you
place it behind a stag, you convert into a
stage ; by a similar process a ton becomes a
tone, and a star is made to stare, and a rag is
put into a rage. Wis a curious personage
| too, and retains some singular privileges: if
he meets an omen, he converts it into women,
he makes so into a sow, and a hat into—
what! Some letters have personal animosi
ties, and scorn to mix in certain societies:
even the humble word lumber has a type of
this kind in it—add a p to it, and the b will
turn up its nose and begone. Then there are
others which have a sort of alchemist faculty
—they elevate and transmute whatever they
touch. bV is one of these: throw it at your
ma, and she is instantly a man; and oy add
ing it to your crows, you may have as many
crowns. What a clever type is Y! it makes
to into a toy, man into many, and shows that
the household plague, Mar, is nothing else
than the servant Mary Cis the veritable
harlequin of the alphabet. It gets into all
sorts of impossible places. It usurps the po
sition of k in October, of s in December, of
tsh in March— in fact, it will assume any
thing : it turns lose into close, and transforms
a lover into clover. Then B—the wicked
rogue '—converts a laborer’s hoe into a shoe,
turns how into a show, and changes having
an audience into shaving an audience. These
examples, which might be indefinitely multi
plied, are most instructive. It will be no
ticed that the impinging of one of these let
ters upon the words already complete, does
not only add a new element to the pronuncia
tion, but actually alters the sound ef the
other letters ! Not only have our single types
no moral sound invariably attached to them ;
combinations of two, three or more letters are
equally eccentric—as for instance, ear, ear/A,
y>ear, heart; now, /enow, hnovtledge; ague,
plague; woman, women ; mould, mould ;
Zove, move, drove ; and so forth. Our alpha
bet is altogether defective. We have five
vowel signs in it, —in the language We have
thirteen vowels requiring typical exponents,
and even these are made bad use of. If a lan
guage were especially created to daunt the
student by its.difficulty, and to prevent ordi
nary men from using it on account of its com
plexity, it could scarcely be contrived to an
swer those ends with more fatal effect than
English does.
-Manchester.
This city, says the Peoples Journal, is the
type of one grand idea— machinery— an idea
that is new in the world; at least in that
large sense in which its vital significance
consists. The ancients had no conception of
such an idea; and hence, the past can teach
us nothing either of warning or of wisdom
respecting it. The records of an eternal ele
ment of human society, which has begun ta
influence the affairs of nations, and aspires
and promises soon to become the world-ruling
power, does not occupy a single page in the
history of civilization. It is a new idea—a
new power; and thus, ever and anon, as the
human race advances in intelligence, are new
powers evoked by the human intellect that
give a fresh impetus to the ever-progressive
movement.
Influence of Light.
The most satisfactory proof of the influence
of light upon human health, is, perhaps, that
which is derived from the experience of large
buildings, in which the condition of the
dwellers in the different parts is on the aver
age very much the same, except in this one
particular. Thus it has been stated by Sir
Andrew Wylie (who was for a long time at
the head of the medical staff in the Russian
army,) that the cases of disease on the dark
side of an extensive barrack at St. Petersburg]:
have been uniformly, for many years, in the
proportion of three to every one of those on
the side exposed to strong light. And in one
of the London Hospitals, with a long range of
frontage looking nearly due north and south,
it has been observed that the patients more
rapidly recover on the sunny than on the
shady side of the building.
A deficiency of light has probably no slight
influence, when combined with "imperfect
ventilation and other causes, in producing a
disease which, in its various forms, is proba
bly the most pernicious and widely-spread of
human maladies. We refer to scrofula. This
complaint is well known to be more prevalent
in crowded cities than in the open country—
in dark and narrow streets, than in those
which are broad and well ventilated. The
condition of the body, in the early stages of
this complaint,has such a striking resemblance
to that of the plant which is rendered meagre
and sickly for want of light, that we can
scarcely doubt the action of the same cause
in both instances.
Considerations like these ought to be of
great weight with every one, who is capable
of understanding the simple facts which have
been stated. Daylight, like warmth, is not a
luxury, but a necessary ef life; for the want
of it, though it does not produce consequences
as immediately destructive to life, has much
share in occasioning those derangements of
health, which not only tend to shorten life,
but render it miserable whilst it lasts; and
which are not confined to the individual, but
are . transmitted from parent to offspring
through successive generations.
The Blue,
i Miss Lucretia Lutestring is a woman of
| mind—a creature whose soul soars above this
| dull globe, and its mouldy, dusty, cobwebs,
I and ignoble doings. In a word—her own—
I she is—
“ A thing of beauty, melody, and bliss.
Borne upwards—on the incense of the lyre.”
The “ Thing of Beauty” always has her hair
in papers, and a hole in the heel of her, stock
ings. Although aerial and elfin in her nature,
j she has been known to dine on beefsteaks, and
| sup on toasted cheese. It is a popular error
I to suppose that she drinks nothing but dew
I out of an acorn. The nearest approach she
ever made to it was drinking “ mountain dew”
out of a dram glass. Miss Lutestring has lit
tle in common with the “ strong minded w»-
■ man.” In some points, however they coincide
| —as in utter and dense ignorance of those
i thousand homely duties and sweet household
ministerings, which make the hearth, the
altar, and the homestead, the temple of that
I glorious divinity, Domestic Love—Miss Lu
cretia Lutestring
CAN but she cannot
I Write an ode, Barn a stocking,
j Or a sonnet. Nor make a pudding:,
i Or a song oi .the fairies. Nor go to market,
| Or a chaunt of the mer- Nor boil an egg,,
j maids, Nor work a pair 01 slip-
i Or a hymn to liberty, pers,
Or stanzas on a portrait, Nor prattle lowng* non
! Or lines on my uncle’s sense, ' ...
birthday, Nor make
I Or occasional verses, Nor dandle* baby.
Or stanzas for music, Nor »
Or an epic poem; Nor, ala#- catch a husband
Natural History of Bores.
Progress.
If we cast our eyes abroad upon the con
flicting elements of our active life, we may
discover thafthe unmistakeable tendency of
the dominant ideas, intellectual energies, and
material resources of the age is mainly in one
direction— converging from a large circum
ference towards a common centre, physical
progress. The evidence of this is about us
on every side. Ours has become distinguish
ed as a mechanical epoch—an age of discov
ery—of invention —of elemental conquest.
We have planted our triumphant feet upon
the waters. Time and distance are annihilat
ed before us. Science has been made sub
servient t« our wants. We have turned the
elements against each other, as ths Romans
did their mortal enemies, and from the con
flict gathered strength.- In short, this is the
age of material civilisation; to use a fashion
able phrase, its mission in the greafyiwfele ot
civilisation is

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