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ber as having been received by Mr. MACREADY from Mrs. JARVIS, proprietor of the 'Cold Candy,' it appears was a hoax upon that gentleman, no such bonâ-fide letter having been written. A similar letter from Mr. MACREADY to Mrs. JARVIS was attempted to be palmed upon her, but the ruse failed. This, however, does not alter the gist of the anecdote in our last; which, so far from having the origin so courteously and tastefully ascribed, was unreservedly repeated at a private dinner-party given by an American minister, now abroad, in our presence, and that of many of our most eminent citizens. MESSRS. STRINGER AND TOWNSEND have in press, and will soon publish, Frank Forrester's Fish and Fishing of the United States and British Provinces of North America. The drawings, which are from life, are by the author; and certainly, judging from those we have seen, they are of unsurpassed excellence. As to the matter of the work, the writer's name is a sufficient guarantee, alike of its fulness and authenticity. We shall have more to say of the book on its appearance 'before the public.' . . . A FRIEND and correspondent, during the hours of joy after the delivery of his first-born, was himself safely delivered of the following lines, and is now doing as well as could be expected:'

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Room for him into the
Ranks of humanity;
Give him a place in your
Kingdom of vanity:
Welcome the stranger with
Kindly affection,
Hopefully, trustfully;
Not with dejection.

See, in his waywardness,
How his fist doubles;

Thus pugilistical

Daring life's troubles:
Strange that the Neophyte
Enters existence
In such an attitude,
Feigning resistance.

Could he but have a glimpse
Into futurity,

Well might he fight against
Farther maturity:
Yet does it seem to me
As if his purity
Were against sinfulness
Ample security.

Incomprehensible,
Budding immortal,
Thrust all amazedly

Under life's portal:

WE quite agree with old KIT NORTH: Without faults we should be unloveable.

Born to a destiny
Clouded in mystery,
Wisdom itself cannot
Guess at his history.

Something too much of this
TIMON-like croaking;
See his face wrinkle now,
Laughter provoking:
Now he cries lustily-
Bravo, my hearty one!
Lungs like an orator

Cheering his party on.

Look how his merry eyes
Turn to me pleadingly!
Can we help loving him-
Loving exceedingly?
Partly with hopefulness,
Partly with fears,
Mine, as I look at him,
Moisten with tears.

Now then to find a name:
Where shall we search for it?
Turn to his ancestry,

Or to the church for it?
Shall we endow him with
Title heroic,
After some warrior,

Poet, or Stoic?

One Aunty says he will
Soon lisp in numbers,'
Turning his thoughts to rhyme,
E'en in his slumbers:
WATTS rhymed in babyhood,

No blemish spots his fame-
Christen him even so:

Young Mr. WATT's his name! J. x.

Gude save us a' from a 'perfect man!' There is no such hateful sight on earth as a

perfect character; for he is a hypocrite, by the necessity of nature. The moment a

perfect character enters a room, I leave it.' Dr. CHALMERS, the great Scottish divine, has a similar thought in one of his discourses, but somewhat differently expressed: 'There is a set of people whom I cannot bear; the pinks of fashionable propriety, whose every word is precise, and whose every movement is unexceptionable; but who, though versed in all the categories of polite behavior, have not a particle of soul or of cordiality about them. Their manners may be abundantly correct; there may be elegance in every gesture, and gracefulness in every position; not a smile out of place, and not a step that would not bear the measurement of the severest scrutiny. This is all very fine; but what I want is the heart and the gayety of social intercourse; the frankness that spreads ease and animation around it; the eye that speaks affability to all, that chases timidity from every bosom, and tells every man in the company to be confident and happy.' Thus says Dr. CHALMERS; but he was only a Christian gentleman. Bless you, he was not a man of the world;' he was n't even 'a fast man!' . . . A COLORED clergyman, preaching recently to a black audience · at the South, said: 'I s'pose, indeed I s'pect, dat de reason de LORD made us brack men was 'cause he use all de white men up 'fore he got to de brack man, and he had to make him brack. But dat do n't make no odds, my bredren; de LORD look a'ter brack man too. Don't de Scripture say dat two sparrer-hawks am sold for a farden, and dat not one ob 'em shall fall 'pon de ground widout deir farder? Well, den, my bredren, if your hebbenly fader care so much for a sparrer-hawk, when you can buy two ob 'em for a farden, how berry much more he care for you, dat is wu'th six or seven hundred dollars a-piece!' If that argument is n't a colored 'non-sequitur,' we never saw a colored non-sequitur. . . 'M.' MISTAKES US. What we mean by 'upholstery description' is not the 'painting of a true artist,' but the elaborate putting down of every thing there happens to be in the house,' as MARRYAT said of a certain dish known to the French cuisine. Here is a specimen of this kind of painting, which is 'just the thing' in a Yankee kitchen, but in a parlor finished in the Renaissance style would probably be deemed a little over-done, except by the admirers of the author of ALICE, or the Second Una :'

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'ZEKIEL crept up, unbeknown,

And peeked in through the winder,

And there sot HULDY, all alone,
With no one by to hinder.

'Ag'in' the chimbley crook-necks hung,
And in amongst 'em, rusted,

The old Queen's-arm that Gran'ther YOUNG
Fetched back from Concord, bu'sted.'

This is natural and vigorous, and worth all the diluted upholstery that JAMEs, or our small copyists of small models, ever drew. . . . NIBLO, one of the best and most liberal public caterers we have ever had in New-York, has opened what, when finished, will be one of the most magnificent places of public entertainment on this continent. We shall endeavor to do ample justice to it in our next number. . . . A CAPITAL • Bunkumville Chronicle,' unavoidably postponed from our last, would have appeared in the present number, but that several of its prominent articles are now too far postdated. Shall we exchange' with the editor for another number? Please exchange!' .. NEW books, old books, reviews, magazines, weekly and other periodicals, notices of works of art, etc., toward some of which our heart verily yearned to say a deserved 'good word,' with many written notices to correspondents, public and private, (to say nothing of postponed letters to several of the latter,) of remarks concerning all these, 'see our next.'

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WE would call the attention of all our readers, and especially of all our friends, to the Advertisement of the Publisher, on the second page of the cover. An inducement is now presented to clubs which has never before been offered; and we naturally look to see it availed of, over a wide extent of the Union.

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THE most useless and disagreeable men in the world are those who do the least and complain the most. Such attributes always coalesce in the same individuals and consummate their claims to personal esteem and popular regard. Encumbered and disgraced by such, earth groans and travails in pain, being burdened. Such dignitaries are nuisances any where, but the most insufferable in theological circles, because viewed in that aspect, their spirit and demeanor present the most pernicious contrast to their profession. They too much abound, and are easily known by their acrid and thorny fruits. Self-elected censors on all the talents of the day, they magnanimously lounge in their intrinsic meanness and infamous indolence, ready only to assign every man his professional merits, and proclaim the value of every printed thought. This is of course the best umpire one can enjoy, since the work of severe judging, if nothing else, is sure to be most thoroughly done. The laziest are always the most captious on the enterprising, and they who are of the least profit to the world themselves are sure to be most ambitious in depreciating the capacities they are too imbecile to emulate.

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Mr. A. is a very taking kind of a preacher, but he has no wisdom to spare. Mr. B. is a flashy writer, but is very superficial. Mr. C. has a clever way of using what he knows, but his acquirements, especially in the classics, are quite limited. That book of D.'s goes well, they say. How strange that the pubic will patronize such common-place things, and leave really valuable works dead lumber on the publisher's hands! By the way that theme is a good one, if

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it was only handled properly. I think of writing a book on that subject, and have meditated profoundly on the matter these ten years.'

And so the snarling, impertinent, stultified drone, goes on. You never hear him speak kindly of any body, or with hearty approval of any thing. Not a trace of sterling worth or beneficent influence can be found in all his past career. The hour, big with the destinies of empires, when his superlative profundity is to be developed, has not yet arrived. He is a tremendous man in the infinitive mood, imperfect tense about to be!

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Such a scholar, such a minister of CHRIST, and such a busy servant in the grand field of religious enterprise is not Dr. BARNES of Philadelphia. Of all his brethren in the pulpit, and by the press, no one of this age perhaps, exceeds him in professional industry and practical usefulness. He has published more volumes than many divines have written sermons, and yet is an excellent pastor, a generous critic, a pleasing preacher, and a courteous man. It would seem that from the very outset of his public life, he accepted as his motto in respect to Christian excellence :

No rest, no pause, till all her graces known,
A happy habit makes each grace your own.'

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With body and mind, that with the rising morn arise, Dr. BARNES has for a goodly number of years been indefatigably employed in acquiring, elaborating and distributing evangelical sentiments among mankind. By this means he may not only claim the triumph of a lettered heart,' but also the richer meed of the noblest influence over the most extended domain. His reviews, introductions to standard authors, printed sermons, notes on the gospels, and other works, literary, polemical and exegetical, have pervaded the remotest corners and are moulding the destinies of innumerable minds. He believes with Sharon Turner, that intellect and industry are never incompatible. There is more wisdom, and will be more benefit in combining them than scholars like to believe, or than the common world imagine. Life has time enough for both, and its happiness will be increased by the union.'

This harmonizes with the sentiments of an old divine, father of a distinguished poet, who uses the word prevent in its Latin sense. We refer to Dean Young, who says: He that thinks ill, prevents the tempter, and does the devil's business for him; he that thinks nothing, tempts the tempter, and offers him possession of an empty room; but he that thinks religiously, defeats the tempter, and is proof and secure against all his assaults.'

In every department of life, vice is the perpetual concomitant of indolence. Waters that are still, soon stagnate and breed the most noxious malaria. An empty mind is the devil's laboratory, in which the most deadly concoctions are manufactured and diffused. Prince Eugene said to a friend, that in the course of his life, he had been exposed to many Potiphars' wives, to all of whom he had proved a Joseph, merely because he had so many other things to attend to. The surest way to avoid evil snares is to be well and constantly employed.

The ancient Brahmins were accustomed to sit unmoved under a stree in stupid gaze at a speck in the heavens, imagining that GOD was as idle as they were. Many moderns are employed in achieving about the same degrees of dignity and use. But where is the spot on our globe that looks as if GoD designed it for the paradise of lazy folks! He who has nothing to do, has no business to live. It is easy to recognise the place where the indolent do reside. It is a locality vividly drawn in Proverbs: 'I went by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding; and, lo! it was all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall thereof was broken down. Then I saw and considered it well; I looked upon it and received instruction. Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep; so shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth; and thy want as an armed man

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On the contrary, in the language of the same author, the thoughts of the diligent tend only to plenteousness.' Diligence is the eternal prerequisite to prosperity and health. Said Swinnock, Thou mayest as well expect riches to rain down from heaven in silver showers, as to provide for thy family without industry in thy calling.'

'SURE, he that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not

That capability and GoD-like reason
To rust in us unused.'

The mental faculties contract indolent habits with as much facility as the physical. When one begins to lean on others for support, he will soon end by being incapable of either supporting others or himself. Such fickle and indolent persons stagger about with a tottering and indecisive step; in the language of Solomon, 'the labor of the foolish wearieth every one of them, because he knoweth not how to go to the city.' They flutter from one object to another, and lounge along at hazard. No wind to them is favorable, because they have no particular harbor in view; no star is propitious, since their eye is fixed with solicitude on none. If the time which is squandered in relaxing and debasing the powers of both body and mind, were employed in fortifying those powers in healthful discipline, we should not at the years of maturity be at a loss for an occupation, nor be left to waste the fire of fine talent which industry had matured.

Steel is sooner destroyed by rust than by use. There is an old Scottish legend, which represents the spirit that serves the wizard as being by necessity constantly. employed; to suspend the work for a moment was to rend the enchantment. Such is the condition of the devotee at the altar of superlative excellence; the boon he desires is won only at the price of perpetual toil. But most persons proceed as if they expected to obtain wisdom as Abu Zeid al Hapan declares some Chinese philosophers thought oysters got their pearls, viz., by gaping!

Men possessing fine opportunities for doing good, in high stations and on a broad scale, are still disposed to sink into the same supine and ignoble mode of procedure. But as long as depraved human

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