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AND COMPANY, Boston, is the best article of its kind we have ever encountered. It is, in reality, all that it purports to be. · · · 'The following lines,' writes a correspondent, 'were handed to me by a physician, who found them in a sick-chamber in one of his daily rounds. They were written by an inebriate, under the repentant feelings of his sober hours:'
HARP of Zion! pure and holy,
Pride of eastern Judea's land, May a child of guilt and folly
Touch thee with a faltering hand ? May I to my bosom take thee,
Trembling from the PROPHET's touch,
To the strains I love so much?
Since my earliest childhood's day;
With the cadence of thy lay:
"Since a little blooming sister
Hung with transport round my knee, And my glowing spirit blessed her
With a blessing caught from thee! “Mother, sister, both are sleeping.
Where no beating hearts respire;
Round the widowed spouse and sire.
Find enjoyment in thy strain:
Comfort from thy strings again!'
As nearly as we can remember, after a somewhat hasty perusal, this was the story told us by the friend and correspondent who wrote us last month from the ‘Planters' Hotel' at Saint-Louis. An old Methodist clergyman had alluded, at some length, in an extempore discourse, to the miracle of blowing down the walls of Jericho. After his sermon was ended, and he was walking homeward, a Mississippi boatman, with a companion, overtook him, and opened a conversation with him upon the subject of the miracle:
You say,' said he, 'that seven men, with seven horns, walked seven times round the walls, and blowed seven blasts seven times, and then the walls fell in ?' The clergyman said the miracle was properly stated. 'Looks reasonable, don't it?' asked the boatman of his companion, who shook his head doubtingly. “You see,' he repeated, there was seven men, with seven horns, and they marched seven times round the walls, and blowed seven blasts seven times? Don't you think 't would fetch 'em?' 'Let's see,' said his companion; 'seven times seven is forty-nine; seven times forty-nine is two hundred and forty-three,' etc.; and having followed up the figures, he said, yieldingly, W-e-ll, y-e-e-s, I guess 't would fetch 'em : it's a d-lof a purchase !' - .• 'Not long since,'writes one from ‘up-river,''a lady called on a friend of my acquaintance to pass a few words of friendly greeting. I am sure the book of English synonymes must have been studied by her to little purpose, when she was finishing her education; for, upon being interrogated, after the usual formula, as to the state of her health, she blandly remarked, 'that she was very well, with the exception of a guitar in her head.' 'A what!' exclaimed the other lady, in a tone of hushed surprise. 'A guitar in my head !' pertinaciously responded this newly-arrived musical character. Silence ensued for a few minutes; during which, I have no doubt, the struggling giggle was kept down by the sympathetic desire inwardly breathed,
O PIEBUS, son of Latona, thou god of music and of medicine, put an interdict upon the melody of such 'guitars!”' . . . Of several tributes of affection, kindred in sentiment, we select the following for present insertion, because it is simple, and evidently the natural out-pouring of a devoted heart.
It bears the title, 'Birth-Day Lines to my Wife,' and is from the pen of a correspondent whose favors have often been welcomed by our readers :
On the very edge of the calm-flowing Susquehanna river, in one of the many lovely, verdant, sunny villages that border upon that renowned and matchless stream, there stands a commodious law-office whose occupant may hear it lapsing with murmuring sound by his river-door at mid-water,' or rushing beneath his foundations in the spring-freshet. On its side toward the river, we observed a nail (driven by the master of legal assemblies in that neighborhood) with a string attached, underneath which was written, in a clerkly hand of write,' these lines, intended as a warning to the friendly anglers who were wont to poach for perch and other fish upon the owner's watery manor. Unmindful of the judicial ermine, ‘usque ad filium aquæ,' the proprietor addressed his 'Spearing and Fishing Friends generally in the “words following, to wit:'
“You spear a bass, a perch, an eel,
Upon my ground - you sinners!
At thought of all those dinners!
It's no ‘riparian blunder;
Or sue you all, by Thunder!
Round it this cord I tie;
And hang my thirds on high:
My hopes this loop are hung upon.' * Whereto thus then' the aforesaid poachers, after a night's bad luck, ‘responded in damages' to the above-mentioned proprietor; suspending on the ' line' the following precept,' dated 'Eleven o'clock P. M.:'
Your law is right, O neighbor JUDGE,
A second DANIEL' thou:
A third of three, I vow.
A bass - a perch ---a chub:
And now, JUDGE, 'comes the rub!'
The claim I do n't deny:
And hang your chub on high!'
below the foregoing statement and rejoinder,' pencilled upon the white clap-
One out of three.
Not another one.
Take this or none.
'Sue 'em' if you do n't get your share. Pro bono publico :
He was a very bony publican.
No bones ('false return.)
By eating a chub you know (uno) how a
bass and perch taste.
Something about cats.
Never eat chub without paraties.
Too plain to need translation.
Therefore Dido ate chubs (indirectly)
Q. E. D.
The court's gone to bed.
Some ‘legal' ingenuity here!
We observe by the public journals that BENJAMIN LODER, Esq., has retired from the presidency of the NewYork and Erie Rail-Road, in consequence of declining health, arising from unceasing devotion to the arduous duties of his office. No President of this great road has ever done more, by unwavering energy, uprightness of character, liberal expenditure of his own means, and extensive personal influence, to enhance its interests, than Mr. LODER. He shrunk from no obstacles in its advancement, for his wise forecast could perceive, and his indomitable energy overcome them. Mr. Loter is succeeded in the presidency of the road by HOMER RAMSDALL, Esq., of Newburgh, who has long been in the direction, and who is a gentleman of large means and great enterprise, in whose hands the road, now so thoroughly established, can only go on ‘prospering and to prosper.' • It does very well, we cannot help thinking, for some per sons to assume that Mr. Edwin FORREST is not a great actor; but will some one be good enough to inform us why it is that, night after night, for weeks, ay, even months together, his houses at the capacious Broadway Theatre have excelled those of any other establishment in the city, with the exception, perhaps, of BURTON's? 'Ay, tell us that, and unyoke!'
We have set up our sanctum on the shores of the Tappaän-Zee for the season of the summer solstice. Before us spread its ample waters, now glassy as a mirror, now ruffled with gentle breezes, or tossing in the sudden storm, but always beautiful. Six villages, on its two shores, are in plain sight to the naked eye; steamers and water-craft of every description pass and re-pass almost every hour before our sanctum windows : ‘Mount Guilford,' with its hospitable mansion, crowns the apex of the verdant mountain that rises behind us, whose forest tops are ever “fretted by the winds of heaven. Over the broad ‘Zee' comes ever and anon the roaring of the wheels of the Hudson river-cars rushing north-ward and town-ward with lightning speed, yet seeming only to 'crawl,' from the great extent of the road taken in at one and the same time by the eye. Fruits and flowers are around us, and ‘vernal shades;' and agricultural experiments are diversifying our labors. By and by there will be reports of crops; yes, and modes of operation shall be cheerfully
given for the benefit of American farmers generally. Our lawn and orchard are moun; and we should like to submit the evidences of our "execution' to those envious Tarrytown operatives opposite, who once wanted us to come up to our work.' We have come up and done it. . . . We hail with cordial pleasure the establishment in this city of the Shakspeare Society of New-York. The Society has already celebrated three monthly meetings, and may now be considered as thoroughly founded. The presidency has fallen, with entire unanimity, upon WILLIAM E. BURTON, Esq., whose devotion to the "Great Bard of all time' reflects high honor upon his character. In his princely library are to be found between thirty and forty of the earliest editions of the immortal dramatist, including among them a copy of the very first that ever was printed; which, when he took it from its repository to show to us, he kissed reverently, as if taking an oath of fealty to his great Master. Mr. Burton's various editions are illustrated by upward of three thousand different engravings, of the rarest description, the careful collections of years, collated and arranged with consummate judgment and taste. Among the incidents which have enlivened the delightful reunions of the Society, was the presentation of a truly superb ‘Book of Minutes of the society, by the worthy and veteran Secretary, Ir. Robert BALMANO, each page of which was illuminated by a beautiful border, embodying the sweet flowers whose names are introduced into the sweeter verse of the adamantine poet; the work of the fair hands of the gifted wife of the donor. The members of the Society are limited to thirty-seven, the alleged number of SHAKSPEARE's plays. The officers consist of a President, Secretary, and Steward; now represented—and when can they be better represented ?- by Mr. BURTON, Mr. Balmano, and Mr. JAMES M. SANDERSON. The regulations adopted by the Society are excellent: there is an admirable esprit du corps among its members, and we anticipate a career of usefulness and intellectual pleasure for the club, which will make its members justly proud of their Association. We shall keep our readers regularly advised of the proceedings of the Society. - .. By the powers of ‘Moses,' writing from Detroit, Michigan, the reader is enabled to peruse the following poetical essay 'On Cash :' Wise moralists in vain have told
And though your mental powers be weak, How sordid is the love of gold,
(To you who money have, I speak,) Which they call 'filthy trash;'
Go on-shave-cut and slash; Though stranger to these eyes of mine, For men of genius and of sense, Ten thousand virtues still are thine, If poor, will
make a poor defence Thou all-sufficient-Cash!
Ágainst the man of-Cash.
Or should you for the basest crimes
This settles all the hash :'
Are cancelled all by - Casu.' Moszk.
This pretty bit' of still-life painting occurs in some reflections of a friend (in the Daily Times) over a neglected grape-vine in a garden in the country, overlooked from the window of his apartment : Time was when this vine was almost dragged to earth with its own clustering fruit, and the autumn sun
light, after wandering through its light green leaves, purpled itself voluptuously in the bursting grapes.' How many times have we seen this effect in the vine that might be seen through the rear-windows of our town-sanctum, as its tendrils clambered to the top of the house, and flaunted, heavy with ruddy fruit, from the very eaves! A pretty picture, and a poetical, that always made us happy. - "They tell a good story' of LORENZO Dow, or a perambulating preacher of his 'school,' to the effect, that riding once in a stage-coach on his way to an appointment, he fell in company with some wild young blades, who were led, from his eccentric appearance and manner, to imagine that he was a proper subject for their jokes and raillery. He at once humored their design, by affecting silliness, and making the most absurd and senseless remarks. Upon arriving at the place where he was to stop, they ascertained who their butt was, and began to apologize, observing, in extenuation of their rudeness, that his own conversation had misled them. "Oh,' said he, that's my way: I always try to accommodate myself to the company I am in; and when I am among fools, I talk foolish!'. . OUR versatile and popular contributor, WILLIAM Norte, Esq., now resident in Cincinnati, is about publishing a work, illustrated by himself, to be entitled Napoleon Third.' That it will be a very clever performance we can confidently predict in advance; but as it will soon appear, the correctness or noncorrectness of our assumption may be easily established. Mr. NORTH is connected with 'The Pen and Pencil,' an illustrated periodical, in which he is writing, both in prose and verse, with his accustomed spirit and versatility of theme, as we shall endeavor to show hereafter. Two excellent contributions from the prolific pen of Mr. North await an early insertion in our pages.
We never read, until the other day, the famous ballad of Dick TURPIN, the London highway-man. One verse is very "able:'
"The coachman, he not liking the job,
Set off at a full gal-lop;
And purwailed on him to stop !'
It was n't exactly by "moral suasion' that the traveller was 'purwailed' on to 'stand and deliver!'
'I HAVE noticed,' writes a legal officeneighbor, (perhaps an anonymous widower—who knows?) some remarks of correspondents in your “TABLE,' condemnatory of Second Marriages.' It
doth appeareth unto me' that it is very appropriately 'in my line' to express my opinion on that subject, inasmuch as I have now my sixth wife. Those who oppose second marriages either speak from experience, or they do not. If they do not, their speculations are not of much value as authority. If they do, they pay but a sorry compliment to themselves and their second companions. Perhaps the difficulty is in themselves, and their theory, after all, may be correct. For one, I am sure it is not. I once conversed with Major Noah upon this subject. He said that among his people, of the Jewish persuasion, the taking of a second wife was considered the highest tribute of respect that could be paid to the memory of the first. The truth is—and I cannot conceive how any reflecting mind can fail to perceive it—that when one has been bereaved of the cherished idol of his heart, a void has been