...... , . . . - - - , .... - IK&tt? ' :;f fill A Weclly Family Nmpaperi DcTQtcd to Mtics, Literatnr Temperance, EdacationAgricultflre and General Intelligence VOI.IV AO. IC ASHEVILLE, N O, FRIDAY NOVEMBER 24, 1843. WHOLE NO. 172. , -..- - . . i y WMcKEEU ATKINS T IVd uu and FitTT Cirr per annum in No paper will be di.continued, except t Ihf 6ptn jr the PobliAere, unUUU arrearage are Advertieement inaerted at Ome Doixa per qnare of twelva lines or Ie, r ine nmv, ana Twittivb CKNTi for each, continuance,, 1 be umber ef lmrrtiona de.iretl miwt be marked on .1.- n.ril. nr tha advertisement will be con tin 11. .A till frliiL anil aharvfld aecofdiniflT. 'Court he charred twentv-five per cent extra, 9 '. Scraps abont Autumn. f .! Tbe days are growing ahorter fait J - C- The nigbta are rather cool, at latt, ' Aa4 every bteese that rounnura past , ' IIu aa autumnal aound." VlWdayt of Rulumtt are rapidly; passing awayr and "winter will f oon4b upon y It is a delightful icnson of tha year to some, while to othera it is tho most gloomy. We arc now in the season of golden hues and fading verdure. Nature's chill breath has imperceptibly passed over the leaf,' the "plant and the flowef, and imparted to them all the tincture of decay. The noble high lands are clothed in a rich panoply of va. negated colors, and staud" forth in all tho rude magnificence of unadorned nature, 'ind aarth's groen carpet has faded beneath the rays of the autumnal sun,-whjlo oif around tells of the- perishatlo nature of things j"and upoj every object is written in J Jcgibl characters-" patting away" y' - This is a season pregnant with Inst rue tion. " It reminds ,uf that decay is an Int hercrit principle of naturoand bids those who havexentered the " learand yellow leaf" of life, to prepare for the winter of age, when the grey hair shall come to warn them that they; loo-, must soop pass awav. nnrt sWn tha ouiet aleebof deuih. j i r 1 - To those who have reached the autumn of life, this season speaks in aa impressive tone, and warns them of the near approach of the winter of their existence, and an index to some particular passage in a book, it points to the termination of-life's journej to death and the grave.' !: November Js supposed to1 be the most gloomy of all the autumnal months, and is dcscrtbedjjy many of tho old poets as - "The watler and the railcf . ' That melts or maddens all." . , Bishop Warburton, in a letter to Hurd, alludes to the influence which its gloomi Of ss is supposed to exert upon the mind, in the following terms : " I have come hither (to Bedford Row) tospend the dread, ful month of November, in which the little wretches hang and diown tJiemselves, and tbe great ones sell themselves to the court of the-devU.!' An Italian psQverb fells lis, though," that every medal has a reverse, which we think ispeculiarly applicable fb the present season. , Although the, beauties of spring, when the merry ! birds carrol forth thei r sweetest melody when the gen Us breezes woo the gay flowers io-flingA cloud of sweet incense - upon their linger, iog pinions, and the young fruits lie iij their curtained 'craares;"softfy-foeking to the lulaby which smiling trJpe sings to the fragrant clusters, have come and gone, nd only the signs of approaching winter TCmam, yci ino seusou uuuga jjuohv pleasure to the naturally cheerful mind . Although man may feel his-spirits pulled down by the reflections connected with the inirtalilv of all earthly thinesv which .but tumn inspires, yet the changeful but har. nwnious movements of nature, like true friendship, bring to the mind of the reflec tlvia soothing balrn 'mild as a mother's voice and calm as a father's smiles". Autumn is a chaste and gentle aeason it us not the coquetry of spffng7the fire and passion of summor,nor the cold frigidity winter. '11 It murmurs promise of another life iff teturn of spriiigTtd'the Tragife fldwr er that withered beneath the blasts of its Wailing winds. Bryant's " Death of the Flowers" is a beautiful description of the Ktsoh : .' , . ' " . The melanoholy days art come, . . . The saddest of tho'vear. Of wailing winds, and naked woods, -'- Aad meadows brown and sere. Beap'd in the hollows of the grove, , The witherd leavel deads They rustle to the eddying gust, . And to the rabbit's tread 1 The robin and the wrciTaje flown, & .i .i fit.. - Ma irom me wooq jop oan 'Itrough all the gloomy day . Wliereare the flowers, the fair yoong flowers, That lately sprung anflitoodt la brighter light and sorf airs, . A beauteous siaterhoSiilT 7 a. - Aki! they are all in their gra ves, "Theganttmea of ffawera, . And lying in their lowly Dd, With tbe fair and good of oar. The ratal j. felling where they be; v But sold November's rain , tail not, from out the gloomy earth, ' Th e lof cly onta agaio. i . : '- , ; The wind flower and the violet, ' - : . They perurh'd lo Hg ro, . , ' . " And the wild rote and the orchil died , ' Amid the summer glow ' m . t But on tbe hill the golden-rod, ' And the aster in the wood, f And the yellow sun-flower by the brook p- In autumn beauty stood, . - Till fell the frost from the clear, cold Heaven, As falls the plague on men, And the brightness of their smile was gone, . From upland, glade and glvn. And bow, when comci the calm, mild day, As still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee From out tlieir winter homo, f When tbe sound of dropping nuts is heard, Though all the tries are still, , And twinkle in the smoky light The waters of the rill. 1 . The south wind searches for the flowers Whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood . And by the stream no more; And. then J think of 'Stilt who in Hory.uluful beauty died. The fair, mjek bloasoui that gre w op ' And faded by my side . In the cold moist earth we laid her, -r When the forest cast the leal . And we, wept that one so lovely,' Should hove a life so brief ; . Yet not unmeet it was, that one, '.. ' Like thul young friend of ours, So grntle and so beautiful, - Should perish with the flowers. The autumn leaf. What a sad emblem of human destiny! , plained, withered, scorched by the crisping blast, to be blown by the remorseless and unpitying winds. Yet Densive aa it is. it sbeaks in no harsh tones to the, well adjusted mind but modu. luted to harmony of tone, it utters a voice of kind admonition, as well to the heart of woman, in her pride of beauty, as to the soul of man, in the grandeur of his ambi- lion. ;Yet..why bo pensive at beholding this yellow tinted leaf, dyed in tho hues of its exDlrinsr season : when, like our frail bodies, it is but the garment of the. towering oak, whose tpitU remains untouched oy the blast, to renew its beauties with the opening spring 7 lo the eye, wnen winter nowis around us, all things that display their sum mer pride appear to perish while the pnn. ciple of life rolreols to its citadel or secure abode, to send forth fresh creations in the dawning spring. , So it ia with the,,exjernal forms of mortal clay. ' .The winter,of life comes upon us, with Us kind and p&toiaal evenings, firsti-of.a wholesome frost -then a falling leaf then a yellow wrinkle n f .,1,.,1 .Uontr n fa Itnrinir nipo S Him eye a; putsieu nguij uui a wun Sl " - ' ' 1 t . .... J n ui.hM aa when first tho young Diooa rusnea witn tumultuous iov. through the swelling veita: but thoueh the leaf fulls th6 immortal spirit ofNhe old oak still remains, to bid defiance toho wrath of time the change nf BHasons. nod the snort of winds. How beautiful an einblem of the immortality of the soul ! The Vody may decay wither, and die as all things of earth must change their earthly form but the toul survives forever thesPiRt r what power cao touch! what force destroy ! what laws subjugate! It Livefh forever ! Still is there something of a pensive- lesson to the sensitive mind, in the falling leaf of autumrj, Wvall shrink with instinctive terror from Jestruc. tion even the destruction of om, figure, mechanism.nd organization. Hence our feeling of preservation in essential toexist- ence. r.' : u:-. A.r.A nt rultiniT into nouffh'rthat sustains us throueh life. Evei'y II IM IIIIS .1 IIJUU J . w .'H Burroundinc circumstance of nature; the umiafiiiiutKH of Moasons the mutations of matter the revolutionsof physical, as well f lrAnll inculcate the great VL9 IliVIUI awaw W Uonn of avmnathv of charity of be- nevolonce-of .love. Tbe falling leaf ro minds us otthe cutting blasts of angry winter, to tha children of want. Are our fellow creatures well provided fori - Has ihA miAam her fuel 1 Has the afflicted vicr tiro of poverty and disease wherewith, to shield bun. trom tne oiasn vrc wo hlnaned with abundance are we rpd with eoodsT Let us shake the superfluity to the sons and Slaughters of affliction I As tho rustling leaves strew the hoarv pround before us, let us think, that so 1 . -; . . flu. Imi may our lortuncs do suhkcu " of our prosperity, by the, will of uoa, m an hour in a. moment ! nw.w .hn ire hard oi heart r woe to mem, who wran therasolvea up in the maniie oi nrisriArit v. and heed not the tears of the -of- the orphan.- the cravings of want, and the sighs of despair. Raimr lo bo noor iorever u'u with p-old. and hove an unfeeling heart J for .h kia.t will-come that shall strew your, iPhh on the Wound, or smite you. blind in its possession, believe not tnauno vo.t.o of tiature, howling and sighing around you, mean nothing. There is not a leai oui speaks not a breeze out is eioquem m nilalK In inn BOUl OI UMJ Utau In God! There is cot a-tempest in the calm on the wave, but can be read, 'like the volume of eternity, by the niitrSnn ho a) ft fif A kind, irenlle, and sym- nalh z nff snirit I UOQ speass iu an works s but woe to the man who har hp loarnd to read this language tha-guage of the heart and to see in HY-i leaf the vice that etrewa the JL- To woman, in the prime ofvbeauy the autumn leaf, ought ever to be dear. Woman ! fragile ! fleeting ! ..kind I atJec tionate woman! oh! be ever charitable to the poor. -Teach roan tow little ne snows f ih hunmt of feeling, the true rapture of life who ia -ignorant ot tne pleasure oi - .i . i doing good, io you, wno evr aiouu uu .k -isrink ofeternitv.be corffmitted the ia.k of teachine man the irnortaDce of perusujgthewumeo God, whose opening pace ii writtea on the virgin tnaw of - howling winter! where the the first word is CHiRixy, Lead him, on, step by step. Show him where lie the thousands of thou, sands of peril to life and fortune, hid under the ambush of a night's revel a cold consumption death ! Shew him the peril of the ocean's storm, that may engulph his " rick argotieijl and send him howling wih the unexpected pangs of want "Turn from page to paga of the book of life, on whose top lines there is always written the sacred word.'.' Beothkb. Then lead him to the distant wpoj, to meditate on the au. tumn leaf; Vid" as be treads' the rustling ground, point his attention to (he opening stars, whose blazing fires tell of heaven's joys, andjypify eternity. 'Surely, therais much to muse on, when we behold the fall of the autumn leaf. - is signal, a sign from God I - t 1 .'" . j - "Oh, Autumn! thoo art here a king, And round thy throne the smiling houss A thousand fragrant tributes bring .. . Of golden fruits and blushing flowers. TTJw approacbrof this pensive,; solemn, J k...:r..i . i u.j i U therainhw.lint(wonlInn( arlHlhmnl1rn.T?,C,, PJ,3f M everV Drealtl 01 .alr ful waitings of the wind, that seems to chant its sad and cheerless anthem as a requiem over the departed glories of the declining year. Already " hath autumn robed the trees in her livery of various hues, and from the bright glossy, green of the leaves that -rejoiced upon the summer, spray, a change has come over them, and thev are now cold in the eorireous attire of scarlet and gold, purple, dun and vermilion. Out, then, in the woodlands and breathe tho last fragrant sighs of the summer's nurslings as they goto their richly-strewed bier, and there thou wilt find food-for re. flection in every leaf and flower.- Each hath a homily in itself even the smallest and simplest, when examined, will lead thy thoughts to the great Creator. And there, too, would I send the unbeliever, who scoffs at the truth of the Divine Gospel, and bid him answer if chance hath formed the va. rieties of leaves and flowers that lie blush ing at his feet. - Let me muse, then, in tha woodlands, fraught with these simple and beautiful crca. tions thtft bestow such a salutary lesson. A withered leaf! It is typical of human me, It ts a connecting link in the-eham ot memory, and recalls the endearing asso. ciations of other daya. ' Who nt there, with feelings, however vitiated by an inter, course with a heartless world, that does not feel his spirit tincturea with the pensive so- lemnhy of the season, as be wande"rs far amidst tho," sere and yellow leaves which rustle beneath bis footsteps 7 HOW SOOth- ing, methinks; is their influence ; and the heart becomes filled with softer and better emotions. How humbled and subdued does he feel who treads the forest sanctuary whilst under the dominion of autumn, the sweet Sabbath 'of the year! The proud vision of ambition and distinction vanish awav like oassine clouds. He wonders at the change, and can scarcely believe him. self the same individual who, but a few r 1 3 ' . 1 J if. I minutes neiore. naa mineiea in uie gay vortex of fashion Now, he desires not aguiii t M wo u i.vi presence. Sweet solemn thoughts of death stenlXupon bis mind, he minus mat ne couiu live nu die io such a spot, when all fair things are I fnrlino- awav ! And vet it is irresistable to I roam through the autumn woods, and listen to the thousand whispering tongues Which nil the air. i nere is a ..reeling oi sauness ra-ii ft I! -r J I that pervades the mind, and although par. taking as ft does of a melancholy characi j ter, it is nevertheless gratetui to me neart, filling it with emotions of a sublime and thrilling nature, awaxeneaoy no oiner bc. son in the year It see ml to tincture the feelines "with, a saddehed inspiration, and I awakens the dormant energies of the mind to the glui;iooarspectac1e ot Woodlands dy. ing like the Dolphin, amidst.the gorgeous COIorS. tne OSl SUU iuvcucsi, uuui aji una i ' . ..ml faded nto the sombre russet garb ! ne " . "o. v ; ' t j .s.u .wsnele expression; especially when looking eye oi an .puropeun --" IM . nmriin nn ot our forests, with meir century. r.. . , . crowned monarens arrayeo in ineir 10.1x4 S-i.a,.rfwiii,iiT.rt.sd off nT'wn autumn! There autumn: ad amcr rau ouiumu; , , l th. - is poetry in tne very , BTobes, king of ihe woods! bloodier hue, like the im. lijs stnppea oi i .o.iage, , 3- desnortinz in the breeze, or carried I down k ihA. Mhmni 1 im mine idu iu ffuiu. .. .-: i - t. "Xt."-'1J en leaves, adominz the woodlands wilh their rich and sunny tinU 1 The. elm, in KVZU . Z:. nZl ; mCnanU Bunny UU1 I.-b...., . . 1 ti mn. kn rich foli&ire I Tha ash, " hid i.tnnnii.. un,ui uwj wm. v . ing the silver onaerwam encn ie... iu lDii9 . . a - .J ct.r. hue. ' And the spiral mnc ana tne TO M-a . , ,. t grain, and orch.rda laden ;with luscious tk.i. Ate-nar rrrean iiriRiiM di iru udu truit, ano vines w w Hnug..., . . - luicimg - --a Clear apurai.i.g ..., t - i.li.-. aAta nrm ann an mnn hi dp:, and field sports. I . .w All these ir thineyoh-nutumni and own thy psgeant sovereignty. The lapse of month has wrought 01 rnwnu wu. changes upon the race 01 tne eonn, upon the colors ot tne say, ana luumcum auu sombre meditauona wnicn creep ever o spiriU, a the approach , d r M have nassea tne central poiui. 01 a flu. and vnllow leaP has multi . . -" 1 rn v 1.: ".. ...... tv : :.. j I unon the veeetabl. world, and one cannot' winter that V w .pp 6; n led inhniteiy.: 1ecay im v 110 wiu wura. 4 . look upon the fading foreit, without aubdu-" ing premonitions, not only of the stealthy and silent approach of winter,, by the regu. lar change of the aeasorigbut "also of the cheerless and desolate sensations which fall upon the spirits, at the early sighing of the wintry winds. The season is full of sober, though in ome sense pleasing recotlec. tions. Wa have lived through the advance of autumn, -passed its turning point, and it is now on the retfeat.-i, The prevalent tone offeeling is of the gloomy tinge. ' One of our own poets has. said of this season, . The melancholy days hare come, iV The saddest of tbe year." . -. ' ? Goethe touches the mournful string, by saying that the " autumn ia going away like the sound of bolls. - The wind poises over the atublo and finds nothing t move Only the red berries -of that slender tree seem as if they would fain remind us of something cheerful and the -measured beat of the thresher's flail calls up the thought that in the dry and fallen ear, liet much nourishment ana life. . i " - - Sad sights are these decaying leaves They tell us of a power a(.work steadily, though silently in the outer world,- whlcli at one time nips the bud, at another with, ers the beautiful foilage of creation. , This faded and dying vegetable "clothing is an eloquent embKm of the change: which is stealing upon us all which palsies our limbs and scatters silvery irost upon the head of age, We need these admonitions. They bid us remember man's frailty, and send us musing back over the record of our past years. We fina that a history with many mournful fiagesX Our old associa. tions are broken up. Death has seized upon our companions. TFamiliarfaces have passed away, and nothing to which .we have put our hand has proved permanent. IT. . I . . I , 1 l. .M 1 we iook in vaiti tor me circieoi our ennu-hood-- It is scattered to the four winds of heaven. Some have braved the sea, and are seeking a fortune among people who speak strange language, and know not the customs of civilized man. Some are stir.' red by the noise of battle, and have gone to the war: Some are wandering up and down the, face of the earth, with no definite habitation, and no desire for any. And some have gono from tho old sheltering nornei 0r whom no sicht or lidings have ever come back, to gladden the hearts of friends left behind. -Some are sleeping, and we find but a single storv upon the memorial friendship has raised al the place nr rpat , . They nave finished a journey which has had its weariness, and have at length UiA o.iHn thnir hurthens at the mouth of the Lrave, Our fathers are gone, and tho J prophets do not live forever. These in deed are sad musings, and they flock upon us like birds of passage, of dinerent co lors, but all flying in thn same direction. But we are sure no. one can go lortn into the surrounding - country at this season, ftlv.. frnm inn rattlino- of nnvements. with ou. hdYinff such saddeninz reflections tince uj. yjew f every object in the kingdom of .... i nature. Kverv ihinir is in the same cnap. ter.- What he sees and hears are the and sounds of autumn, rhev cannot be described but they can be felt. And. we Mare say, lhat with more or less power lhey come to all. The brown stubble, the mnntnni nn u,i.;,-h thprp i hut tittle -rreea. ,he fading forest, which has a variety bf hues to be cauoht by the painter's eye, the Ucronm 0f tho jay, the dim aud hnzy air, a a - amj tne 8i,ad0ws lenethened towards the eogtj aijtheseand a thousand other things wnich cannot be transferred, have the co. 0rlng which one would know to be of the auiumn) were he now to awaKe irom siurnber of twenty years." .. v " The melancholy days are como, -TheWtfearoT the year.' This is to us tho aadest, sweetest sea. son of the year. " Summer s gone." How , . i- . munh rnannntllV niMlliniT IS IherS in ttllS .k.. a untM tna fieldi be-reft of their cold. . - r en harvests, its trulb is every wnere seer. 7 , ' . . t . 1 ... 1, i th change of nature a vesture, lire ? language of poetry to tell us . . - - that "tbe harvest is past, the summer 1 ia ded . and winter approaches ; the ' PP"' J" ,he last and the -oeclioinir rays of the s . ' . . .. summer, sun, all tell beautiful writer, that cornea over the IrJ'fi.rzr--. .Lir-ii.inss- I mind in US CUUlCIIIUiUUUUa Ul ,u...u ". . . . faithful Christian when about to enter upon . , mhnAnUf frl,.lh ine uara vairej He has passed the. seed-time and summ of life, and is standing amidst the ahadow; 0f that last autumn which brings his toils, and heward oLeli hU labors.. rhe .,,. fr08t of autumn fall. not i . Ainnft unon the sreen ana oeauuiui yegeia. Mjn.B ,00 has hi. au , , When ne arrive8 ,t lbe eening ... .u keaut ea wh ch adorn -- -- - . . . vniuU m. 1 m 111a cawiumwi . wif""6iw.""'r ' ; " , of manhood, begin loaiscover w auiumnai tint here and there a leal naj lorsanen s. r.ni hmiich : his iovs and delights all have emigrated to another country-wwing -- n . " Ume. and la wu . , re - r . . s-" . d k d w- h J -Butihe 9" J: . nUtt. h-n 1 ariuanMH in ?ears uioutc, . I linta of autumn. "'" . .. e.LJ harbingers of the dreary . ' The young, however, see nothing mulon Choly in autumn. They may well ask,. " What is there saddening in the autumn leave it" Whenlhey took abroad upon our rich and variegated forest scenery -when flraV thelroit . r Tarns Into beaulv all October's e! harms.'! ( , To their vouhe eyes only the bright co lor are visible,' or if they see tha darker hues, they only, behold them aa so many shades to give relief to tha beautiful paint, ing upon nature's canvass. 1 ' , Peculiar to this country - we beKevef, is that delicious, but melancholy season, which we denominate the "Indian Summer,," and which 4 like the last blaze of the" lamp pre; alina tn If -AvtilimiialirYWrit lianAMtMaflAra in H November's? cold and elullingast.'4ki thii. they fin? '? conversation, This peculiar season wis .been beaotirelly depicted by one of America's sweetest po ets, Brainard, in the following lines : What is there saddening In the autumn leaves T ' Have tliey that green and yellow melancholy Tbat the sweet poet speaks of 1 Had he seen Our variegated woods, when Aral the float Turns into beauty all October's charms-r When the dread fever quits us when.ihs storm Of the wild Equinox, with all its wet " Has left the land, a. the first deluge left it, With a bright bow of many colors hung . Upon the forest tops he had not sighed. The moon stays longest for the hunter now I Tho trees cast down their fruitage, and tbe blithe And busy squirrel hoards his winter store ; While man enjoys tho breeze that sweeps along The bright blue sky above him, and tha.1 bends Magnificently all the foreata pride, ' Or whispers through the ever.grcens, and BiVa, What is there saddening in the autumn leavca, Mr. Borrow. Of Mr. Borrow, the author of tho Bible in Spairi-tiia most readable Tjook," decidedly, of these later days tho Boston Daily Ad. vertiser gives this account, taken from an articlo in the levue oes aeux nionaes : . Mr. Borrow, says the writer M. Plum-' re'ti Chasles, was originally,. I believe, a horse jockey or something of lhat kind ; . - .. . l .1 . , L.;.': since tnen, a puruanicai uevouou uayiHjj seized him. ho has traveled over the world tospread the gospel light among tne ureews, Papists, Ottomans, Barbariuns and Zincali. To- gain souls for Calvin, to conquer horses and infidels; and to wander over' plains, marshes and forests, are his favorite plea sures. A DonQuixoteof the 19th century, and an English Don Quixote, he travelled as a colDorteur among the Alpujarras, at Cintra. Ceiita. Mcrida, upon the banks of the Guadalouivir. and Douro, with a cargo of Bibles: some in Arabic, and others in the Bahamian tontiuo not that of Bohe mia, hut of Hindostah (Zincali.) ""Can you think of any oddity more strange than this ? With a vigorous nature, a weu tempereu soul, an uncommon courage, and a burning curiosity mingled with a lively taste loruu. ... . . , , ventures and even lor dangers, a poiygtof mind with the irift of tongues, Mr. li. un- erstood Persian, Arabic, Oerman, JJutcn, Russian. Polish, Spanish, Portugese, Irish, Swedish, Norwegian and the old Scanda. nivinn, not to me.nlion the oojiic, ivymn or Welsh. Sanscrit, and Zincali, the language of the European Gypsies. He is on athletic man, 35 or 30 years old, wnn a Dngni sighu-kblack eye, his brow already covered with tho frost of premature white hair, and an olive comnlexion, as if ho belonged to that - . 1 . 1 .1 1 ntf an raceol w.nom ne is tne ciirouicur and friend. ' ' ' He was born at Norfolk, and found him self, no-one knows how, and he does not tell, in the midest ol gypsies, biacKsmuns, fortune-tellers, rope-dancers, horse jockeys, old clothes merchants and beggars from Egypt, who inhabited this city and itcm- virons. r rom these honoraoie instructors he received at an early age his first know! diro of-gibberish, the rudiments ol tne Zincali luflgliage, and hereditary receipts relative lo the rearing and support 01 norscs. Ae hegrew,p,-he went to Edinburg, went through the University course, studied diligently Hebrew, Greek and Latin, and mooa-ircuneni exeursioua u " '"B" - , t . : :nA i!.a Vi I , . ri ands to leurn ja.lic Uiorougmy.. m hjm became of him afterwards no one knows 1- ;.. . a a 11 1 ' His friends say lie eoweo nis wna oais, or n ihn French aav. u letait sa gffurfne. Some-pretend the turf and occupation ot. a ibekev never had a more zeaious servum, Ho houpht and soiu norses, oci, won, iwav and probably ran, at Newcastle or Derby Thta nortion of his life lies in the shade; he afterwards re-appeared, and we find him suddenly converted and engaged in me service or the Uible society, a company orimnized for the propagation of the Bible. Ho tfavefcnjver the world agd leaves on his route Bibles by thousandsT When he had seen Asia and Africa, it appers to him that Spain and Portugal, those two 010 ramparts of Catholicism, are countries new and curious to visit; he pounces upon them, Calvinistic Bible in hand, is im- prisoned, beaten, pursued; ne peraii, . lives in the woods, with banditti, in caverns wilh gypsies, in garrets with ptcaros, craves the Alcaldes, shows his contempt for ctu rates ; mocka,at mitiistcrs ; leagues nimseii with the Jews, offers his hand to the Arabs, is neither beaten to demh or hung, which is a miracle ; and after having uveowougn the-most eurious-romancei of adventures which could be imagined, this Don Quixote without a squire, cornea back to London white, and bronzed. Our own strong impiession derived from his two books, is, that Mr. TCrrow is him self of Gypsy blood. N. Y. American. T riANOERt Whon a man goes regu rlnv al a particular hour, " to liauor," depend upon it he is in danger. It is high time that nc snouiu aigu mo ib", Listen and Xvum. . There is one little piece of practical . philosophy, which we Would like to impress upon the minds of our young readers, and for which .they will thank ua just in pmpor. lion as they will heed it. The best thiug ti " young man can do is lo be a good listener ' nothing gives 'so strong .en idea of his wisdom, and nothing so mucii increases it. If you are conscious that you are ignorant, this is the way to conceal and to remedy it. An old rnan must have experience, and ho loves to.; talk. JjistcQ and you have tlm benefits of all he has learned, and gratify his strongest propensity. Men ol talent and attainment, whose heads . ure full of maUer, absolutely require some vent' fw it, " ana mis iney nun iu coiiversuuun. i-.v under your own foolish vanity curb your love of display, and you may have tho full . benefit of all their toilsome studies, and at the same time, by attending to them, and simply showing your appreciation, you,' afford the highest pleasure while you gain every way, giving them a higher opiiiioirfjf your own mind and talents, than you possi bly could" by toftilng yourself. The grouts' art of eonve,rsutioi js t soy just enough to draw out those abou you on their favoritn topics, and to bring their fuculties into full play. Ifthey Aug, sny something thul will excite them. . . If the subject does not interest therny change it to one. lhat will. Do your part fill up-vnCanciesif possible keep down the impeijtinenfces of others, and bosure to indulge in none of your own. It ia one of thoetrarge things in lhi3 worldthat while tho talent of conversation,'' is niioceorvu plishment which nflbrds more pleasure i thu it ull others, less, attention is pain to its oulti- vntion.than to the most trifling acquisitions. What can be more charming than a womnn who-converses well ? Ugliness, whh thi.t talent, become! attractive yet you find ten talkers, who play, sing, draw, or dnnco well, to one who can carry on an interest ing conversation. 'N. Y. Sun. Imperfecthess of Human Knowledge. Tho caterpillar, on being converted into an inert scaly mass, does not nppear to befit ting itself for an inhabitant ot the air, and can have no consciousness of the brilliancy of its future being. We are the masters of the earth, but perhaps wearc4lic slaves of some great and unknown beings. Tho fly that we crush with our fingor.or feed with our, viands, has no knowledge 01 man, and no consciousness of his superiority.-- We suppose that we are acquainted with matter and all its elements, yet we cannot even guess at the cause 01 electricity, or explain tho formation of the stones that full from metoora. ' There may be beings near or surrounding us, which we cannot imag ine. Wc know very little, but in my opin ion we knjw enough to hopo for the im mortality, tho individual immortality, of the better part of man. Humphrey Davy. T J at ' Ladies at Work. Young ladirs miss a figure when they blush and. make a dozen apologies to find tlfem at tlie tub, with u, check apron on, una sleeves up. ooooeit . fell in love with his wifo while In this inter. esiing condition ; and no woman was of more service toman. Ileal men men ot terting sense are always pleased to sou ihcir female acquaintance at work.- 1 hen never blush never apologise, if found iiv your homespun attire, stirring coffee, wash ing the hearth, or rinsing tho clothes. It should be your pride and glory to lu'bor.for industrious hubits areTcertainly the uest re covmmendotion you can bring to worthy young men who aro seeking wivoa. Those wlio would sneer at these habits, you may depend upon it 7 w,H muko" yoor companions, for they are miserable fools and consummate blockheads. Habits of'JouN Quinct Adams. Judgo Bacon, in-speaking of Mr. Adams' habits, says that he is not particular in restricting himseif any one-exclusivesortTjf foodi regarding more the quantity token, thuii. the particular kind. He usually tnkea onu or two glasses of the lighter wines with hU . dinner, and in the intervals of his meals in troubled wilh little thirst, and having, ns we noticed, uniformly declinedluking any water during his longest and most exciting addresses, when it was offered him'1. Ilw system requires and admits-ofliuf five or six hours of sleep, although he .would bo glad to l)0,able to lake an hour more. H is . teeth appear not. to bo deficient L. and his appetite good and siuTicienl ; .his 1 lieiirin and eye-sight are boih gwyiind lajjjaff never had occasion 10 use spcciueica. Marriage. Hook upon a man's utiacli. ment to woman who deserves it, us iho greatest possible safeguard to him in hi-- . dealings with tbe world;1 it keeps him from oil those small vices which unfettered youth thinks little of, but whjch certainly under mine the foundations of better things, till 1 in the end the whole fubricrof w'riglu . and wrong gives way under ihe assault of tempt- ation. j f The-wite. Dr.- Franklin: recamnrcTidjr a young man in tho choice of a- wifo to select her from a bunch, giving as his ren son! that when thero ace many daughters, they improve each other, and from cmula. lion acquire more .accomplishrnrnts and know, more, and do more than a single child spoiled by pa ternal fondness. This comfort to people blessed wilh largo familiea. 7 -.4 1 ii- i 1