The music of his words falling on ears Dulled with the droning of the work-shop wheel, Fought he not bravely?-answer, ye oppressed; ་ R. S. CHILTON. TIME-and-time-an'-ag'in' have we laughed a silent laugh' at an admirable description which we once read of a Yankee stage-driver's independent bearing toward an Englishman and his family, whom he was the gentleman to drive' through a portion of the western wilds, and whom he left, together with his horses and 'stage,' in a sour November storm, securing for himself, in a log-hut toward which he posted for shelter, a comfortable seat by the fire. Presently in came the Englishman, with his two daughters, their garments all bedribbled with wet and dirt. Looking daggers at the driver, who was taking a big chew' of tobacco,' I should think,' he said, 'that our luggage out to be brought in, and housed from this storm.' 'I should think so tew,' replied the driver, ejecting a splash of the 'juice of the weed' through his teeth upon the hath; if 't was mine, I should bring it in, any how!' 'Well, bring it in then, Sir!' said the Englishman, angrily. Neöw look o' here, Mister,' responded the driver, I aint no man's servant; that's a berry that don't grow on the bushes in this country, mind I tell ye. Bring in your truck yourself! We have been reminded of the above circumstance by a somewhat kindred incident mentioned in our hearing to-day. The captain of one of our mercantile vessels called his Yankeesteward to the dinner-table one day, and holding up a small amphibious-looking object, slow-dripping with semi-fluid bean-soup, said: 'How the d-1, Sir, came this mouse in these beans?' 'Meöuse? Yeäs! Wal, cap'n, that's what I'd like to know tew!' There was no farther 'satisfaction' for the captain in the premises. The steward was prepared to seek, rather than to give information touching the phenomenon. . . . AMONG the gossipry omitted from our last number was a notice of the manifold attractions of Brady's Daguerrian Gallery, corner of Fulton-street and Broadway. There is scarcely a prominent man in the country, from the past and present Presidents, their cabinets, and families, and high political magnates, out of office, (all of whom are admirably taken,) down, or up, to the distinguished literary, scientific, and artistic men of our time, but are here represented, and precisely to the life.' Mr. BRADY and Mr. HAAS have accomplished much toward perpetuating the celébrités of this day and generation. . . . 'HIGH seated on a mount' here at Piermont, we have been looking off this morning over the wide waters of the Tappaan-Zee upon 'DOBв his Ferry' and the region round about, where aforetime so many days were marked in Memory's calendar with 'a white stone.' There lies the green path of the Croton aqueduct, along which we so often took our pleasant way to the charming 'Sunnyside' of WASHINGTON IRVING, gleaming among the trees; there is the very mid-way tree, by the marble ventilator, under whose shade we used to sit, while pausing by the way-side, and pencil corrections upon our 'Table' proof-sheets: yes; and perhaps the same red squirrel is in its branches now that used to come down upon a lower limb and overlook the pages with us, chattering occasional objections touching what he did n't fully understand, and dividing the conversation with a musical wren swinging on the topmost bough. There too is the umbrageous Glen,' where with wife and weans' and cherished friends, we wandered on golden summer evenings, or on nights ... 6 ... 6 in later autumn, when the clear moonlight rested like a shroud upon the face of dying Nature. Very pleasant was it recently to renew with D amidst these scenes, the remembrances of times by-past;' with him who was the 'friend of our boyhood' as he is of the days of our manhood; and therewithal came thronging back afresh upon us recollections of the day when we first met in the beautiful Oneida region; of fair hair curling over a face beaming with ingenuousness and good feeling; of a pleasant smile, an appreciative spirit, a generous enthusiasm. Thanks to the childhood of the soul' these spiritual characteristics still remain; associated with no feeling of regret, save that one who knew and made us to know them well and appreciate them lovingly, has long since gone down to 'darkness and the worm.' But hark! The supernatural shriek of the steam-whistle, and its white breath, ' a moment seen, then gone forever,' brings us to our fore-ground; and we look down upon long snaky trains of freight-cars, gliding amidst a labyrinth of iron tracks, and preceded by a puffing locomotive, that often requires the application of the switch' to keep it in the way it should go upon groups and clusters of brick structures, (some of them in the pointed Ironic' style of architecture!) upon a half-mile of new cars and an acre of iron car-wheels; upon the smoke of stygian forges, whence comes up also the 'clink of hammers closing rivets up,' the slow-grinding noise of iron-planes driven by the rumbling wheels of steam-engines; and upon ditchers 'laying pipe' with as little regard to the ultimate consequences of their labor as any politician that ever performed the same office before them. But now there comes a subdued shriek from behind' LORD'S mountain; the Owego and Binghamton train is rushing hitherward from the valleys of the Chenango, the Susquehannah, and the Delaware; and we must be at 'the Platform,' en route for the metropolis. Ir is a fact not sufficiently 'pressed home upon the bosoms of community,' as our Bunkum contemporary would say, that a shirt without buttons is uninhabitable. 6 They manage these things better at 'ome,' an Englishman will tell you; or if they do not, down upon the heads of all cockney 'wife dom' falls the remonstrance of some complainant in the premises;' as thus: ... While your shirts unbuttoned go; 'Wives of America! think on these things!" The snowy shirt of England Then, then ye female peace-makers! When our shirts well buttoned go: THE poet CAMPBELL, soon after the birth of his first child, wrote as follows to a near friend. all the tender fervor of a mother's heart: 'OUR first interview was when he lay in his little crib, in the midst of white muslin and dainty lace, prepared by MATILDA's hands, long before the stranger's arrival. I verily believe that lovelier babe was never smiled upon by the light of heaven. He was breathing sweetly in his first sleep; I durst not waken him, but ventured one kiss. He gave a faint murmur, and opened his little azure lights. Since that time he has continued to grow in grace and stature. I can take him in my arms, but still his good nature and his beauty are but provocatives to the affection which one must not indulge; he cannot bear to be hugged, he cannot yet stand a worrying. Oh! that I were sure he would live to the days when I could take him on my knee, and feel the strong plumpness of childhood waxing into vigorous youth. My poor boy! shall I have the ecstasy of teaching him thoughts, and knowledge, and reciprocity of love to me? It is bold to venture into futurity so far! At present, his lovely little face is a comfort to me; his lips breathe that fragrance which it is one of the loveliest kindnesses of nature that she has given to infants; a sweetness of smell more delightful than all the treasures of Arabia. What adorable beauties of GoD and Nature's bounty we live in without knowing! How few have ever seemed to think an infant beautiful! But to me there seems to be a beauty in the earliest dawn of infancy, which is not inferior to the attractions of childhood, especially when they sleep. Their looks excite a more tender train of emotions. It is like the tremulous anxiety we feel for a candle new lighted, which we dread going out.' ... Had that baby-boy been taken away in infancy, with what accurate greediness' would that fond father have dwelt upon even the minutest of his little winning ways! Happily he was spared, in the freshness of his paternal delight, this sore pang. . . . WE are sorry to see commended in 'The Christian Inquirer' religious journal the adoption of the term ' Christology,' as a new word. We sincerely hope no such folly will be attempted. Should it be, there is no reason why it should not be followed by ' Christdom,' à la Mr. WILLIS, or Christation, or any other 'dom or 'ation. Apropos of the Inquirer:' a correspondent who read the passage which we quoted from its columns, touching the ability of a man, placed after death on a distant planet, to see the progress of his whole life on our earth, asks us whether, if he were placed upon a planet far enough off, he could n't see the whole progress of the life of his mother, and also of his grandmother? The question strikes us as a pregnant one. Thus is doubt thrown upon all new discoveries in this world and others! We hereby acknowledge the receipt of some touching Lines written while Suffering from a Severe Pain in the Bowels,' by 'MORT DU GAGE;' rather a 'green gage' than otherwise, we should say. His subject is interesting, and its treatment is such that the reader almost suffers the malady which is the theme of the writer's verse. We subjoin a collated example of the Lines' in question: 'SWEET love! thou dove above me, O, long in song I'll love thee; Should fate I hate await me, I swear to despair I'll mate me; Then, sweet! thou 'lt meet and greet me, And our meeting, if fleeting, shall sweet be!' If there is one greater bore in the infinite region of Boredom than a man who conceives that every body must of necessity be interested in his least physical ailment, we should like to have him pointed out to us. There is an anecdote of a person of this description, from somewhere down-east,' who carried his brains in his pocket, and by dint of the contents of that receptacle, found himself abroad, in Paris, and at Louis PHILIPPE'S levée. The king, walking around the line of his visitors, had something to say in English to nearly all. 'Are you well?' he asked of our down-east friend. 'Pooty well,' said the other, passing his hand slowly up and down over the 'front periphery of his person;' 'pooty well; but I've had an awful pain in my beöwels! I had a hard time with the medicine I took for it, day 'fore yesterday. Could n't get nothin' to oper' Horrid pain down here - Tried all kinds of doctor-stHave you been long in Paris?' said LOUIS PHILIPPE, passing hastily on to the next customer,' who did not chance to have a 'pain in his beöwels.' . . THERE is no parent possessed of a heart, who can have read without emotion in the daily journals an account of the death, by accidental poison, of a lovely little child in Maine, who when her eyes began to grow dim in death, fancied that it was night, and that she was going to sleep; dying with her customary 'Good night, dear mamma!' 'Good night, dear mamma!' many times repeated, trembling on her lips. That beloved child will awake in Heaven, and there shall be no night there!' ODDLY enough, we have before us three pieces of verse on Dreams. Two of them are such stuff as dreams are made of' in general, but the other is delicate and touching: VOL. XXXIV. 18 and we cannot help thinking, if wedded to a corresponding air, moaning plaintively like an autumnal wind among the fading willows, would be quite effective. We commend it to the 'distinguished consideration' of our friend DEMPSTER, the charming Scottish vocalist: THAT was a rather forcible illustration of life in the west' which we heard the . other day from a friend sojourning in that region. A man coming into the settlement,' and seeing a collection of by-standers around three or four pairs of raging combatants, began to 'peel' off his coat and waistcoat, asking simply, 'Is this a free fight?' and being answered in the affirmative, rushed into the melée. Presently he came out with his 'peepers' closed, and his face variously cut, and streaming with · blood. 'That's a lively place in there!' said he, gathering up his 'toggery;' 'slim chance o' good hittin' 'mong so many boys!' and off he went. One would think that a maim, arising from a fight of this sort, would be a thing to be somewhat especially remarked; but it seems not, particularly by the victim. 'What has become of your ear?' said an eastern friend to a combatant of this description, in one of the 'fighting towns' of the west. I don't know where it is; I've been looking for it since the fight, but I can't find it!' replied the other. The supposition that the inquirer could n't have meant to ask how his ear came to be off, but only where it was, is a ludicrous evidence of the manner in which such things are regarded at the west. . . We are glad to see some remarks in the columns of a religious weekly contemporary, upon Intellectual and Physical Training. The pale hectic cheeks, narrow shoulders, and hollow chests, which one too often encounters in our colleges, 6 6 are the result of a want of physical exercise. Why do n't students think more of this undeniable fact, and act accordingly? For our own poor part, (and, by the blessing of Heaven, we know not what ill-health is,) we know that exercise is indispensable to one engaged in a sedentary pursuit. We walk the distance of seven miles every day, 'rain or shine,' Sundays excepted; and if at all disinclined to do so, we consider that as the very reason why we should not omit to do it. • Mens sana in corpore sano' should be the motto of every student. The tasks are too hard, we are well aware, in many American colleges; but so much the more reason that their effect should be counteracted, no matter at what cost of time, by healthful physical exercise. Try it, boys, you who read us in the numerous collegiate institutions of this republic, and then tell us whether these things indeed be so.' They' be,' any how, and no mistake.' Nor the least of the enjoyments of a semiresidence in the country, during the oppressive heats of Summer, is the pleasure of going and returning on the steamers which at all hours vex the majestic Hudson with their foaming wheels. Many a pleasant chat have we had, during the fervid season now passing away, with our friend Captain MAYBIE ('may-be' he is n't a true man!) of the ERIE,' and not a few with Captain JOHNSON, of the THOMAS POWELL, who seems as 'dry as a remainder-biscuit,' but who still knows what's o'clock' as well as the best of his compeers. His 'hits' are 'from the shoulder,' and 'tell' at once. For example: What do you think of our stock?' said a rather pompous director in a new rail-road company to him the other morning. Think of it?' said the captain; why, it's a laughing-stock! I would n't give three cents for six thousand shares of it!' We' kind o' laäfed' at the remark, but the director did n't; and not caring especially to witness his mortification, we went forward.' Coming down the next morning on the 'ERIE,' Captain MAYBIE, in an interval of 'nothing to do,' related an occurrence which we are not going to be so selfish as to keep to ourselves. When I was a boy,' said he, 'up in C'lumbia county, I remember one winter we lost a good many sheep. We could n't tell where they went to, but they went. Finally, we suspected a big house-dog, belonging to a neighbor, as being the real culprit; but his owner, who stuttered painfully, repelled the idea with some difficulty, but with decided fervor. That d-o-og,' said he, ne-e-ver to-o-uch-ed a sh-sh-eep o' y-o-ou'rn in his l-l-i-fe — n-e-ever! But suspicion was soon so strongly fixed upon the four-footed poacher that he was arrested, and brought before his master, who was however as incredulous as ever touching his delinquency. But the sufferers by his depredations were bent on action.' • Tie him up by the heels,' said one, and if he 's guilty he 'll soon disgorge his last night's plunder!' 'Ve-e-ery wà-wa-ell,' stammered his master, 'd-o it as s-s-oon as you 1-l-i-ke; I'll r-r-isk him! So 'BOSE' was suspended, as was suggested, and at first without effect. 'I t-t-old you s-o,' said his master; 'he's had n-n-o fresh m-m-m-utton.' But while his owner was yet speaking, the unfortunate animal began to exhibit some internal uneasiness, and presently there was palpable evidence, in the discharge from his mouth of certain woolly 'secretions,' that he was a guilty dog. The old man looked on a moment longer, with a very blank expression, and then exclaimed, with a NAPOLEONIC terseness, 'Ch-ch-ch-ange ends, b-o-o-ys, d|—n him! ch-ch-ch-ange ends !' and the 'wretched culprit' was then and there, between the hours of eight and nine o'clock A. M. suspended by the neck until he was dead-dead!' .. WHOSE bad taste was it that suggested the insertion of a text of Scripture, in a printed card, in front of the pews of a certain church in Rochester, suggestive of Keep your feet off the 6 ... |
