SUPERIORITY CONFERRED BY SCIENCE-DREAMS. From the Southern Literary Messenger. A shop keeper, in China, sold to the purser of a ship a quantity of distilled spirits, according to a sample shown; but not standing in awe of con science he afterwards, in the privacy of his storehouse, added a certain quantity of water to each cask. The spirits having been delivered on board, was tried by the hydrometer, and discovered to be wanting in strength. When the vender was charged with the intended fraud, he at first denied it, for he knew of no human means which could have made the discovery; but on on the exact quantity of water which had been mixed, being specified, a superstitious dread seized him, and having confessed his roguery, he made ample amends. The above is one instance among many which might be mentioned, of the advantage scientific knowledge gives its possessor over the ignorant. Whilst the philosopher in his study is engaged in the laborious investigation of abstract truth, the question is often asked "cui bono?" [For what good?] But when the results of his investigations are applied to the affairs of real life, their benefits are at once evident. Perhaps one or two more instances may set this truth in a stronger light. Ón mount Philatus, near lake Luzerne, is a valuable growth of fir trees, which on account of the inaccessible nature of the mountain, had remained for ages uninjured, until within a few years a German engineer contrived to construct a trough in the form of an inclined plane, by which these trees are made to descend by their own weight, through a space of eight miles, from the side of a mountain to the margin of the lake. Although the average declivity is not more than one foot in seventeen, and the rout often circuitous, and sometimes horizontal, yet so great is the acceleration that a tree descends the whole distance in the short space of six minutes. To the spectator, standing by the side of the trough, at first is heard, on the approach of the tree, a roaring noise, becoming louder and louder; the tree comes in sight at the distance of half a mile, and in an instant afterwards shoots past with the noise of thunder, and almost with the rapidity of an arrow. But for the knowledge of the inclined plane, which the German engineer had previously acquired, such a work as this would have appeared impossible. The chronometer, a species of watch constructed to go with great accuracy, has been applied to the purpose of determining longitude at sea. "After months spent in a passage from South America to Asia," says Arnott, our captain's chronometer announced that a certain point of land was then bearing east from the ship at the distance of fifty miles; and in an hour afterwards, when a mist cleared away, the looker out on the mast gave the joyful call, land ahead!' verifying the report of the chronometer almost to a mile, after a voyage of thousands. It is natural at such a moment, with the dangers and uncertainties of ancient navigation before the mind, to exult in contemplation what man has now achieved. Had the rate of the wonderful 197 little instrument changed even a little, its announcement would have been worse than useless-but in the night, and in the day, in storm, and in calm, in heat, and in cold-while the persons around it were experiencing every vicissitude of mental and bodily condition, its steady bent went on keeping exact account of the rolling earth, and of the stars; and in the midst of the trackless waves, it was always ready to tell its magic tale of the very spot of the globe over which it had arrived. In one point of view, this result appears to arise from the perfection of the chronometer's mechanism; but had not the men of science determined the exact figure of the earth, and its rate of motion around both its own axis and the sun, the chronometer could have given no information respecting the longitude; it would have told its tale indeed, but without science as its interpreter, that tale would have remained wrapped in the mystery of an unknown tongue. DREAMS. Dreams can be produced by whispering in the ears when a person is asleep. One of the most curious as well as authentic examples of this kind has been referred to by several writers. I find the particulars in a paper by Dr. Gregory, and they were related to him by a gentleman who witnessed them. The subject of it was an officer in the expedition to Louisburg, 1758, who had this peculiarity in so remarkable a degree, that his companions in the transport were in the habit of amusing themselves at his expense. They could produce in him any kind of a dream, by whispering into his ear, especially if this was done by a friend, with whose voice he was familiar. At one time they conducted him through the whole progress of a quarrel, which ended in a duel; and when the parties were supposed to be met, a pistol was put into his hand, which he fired, and was awakened by the report. On another occasion they found him asleep on the top of a locker, or bunker, in the cabin, when they made him believe he had fallen overboard, and exhorted him to save himself by swimming. They then told him that a shark was pursuing him, and entreated him to dive for his life. He instantly did" so, with such force as to throw himself entirely from the locker, upon the cabin floor, by which he was much bruised, and awakened of course. After the landing of the army at Louisburg, his friends found him asleep in his tent, much annoyed by the cannonading. They then made him believe that he was engaged, when he expressed great fear, and showed an evident disposition to run away. Against this they remonstrated but at the same time increased his fears by imitating the groans of the wounded and dying; and when asked, as he often did, who was down, they named his particular friends. At last they told him that the man next himself in the line had fallen, when instantly he sprung from his bed, rushed out of his tent, and was roused from his danger and his dream together by falling over the tent ropes. A remarkable circumstance in this case was, that after these experi ments, he had no distinct recollections of his dreams, |cated herself at a single thought-"a friend Ma, a but only a confused feeling of oppression or fatigue; friend gave it to me as a keep sake." Old Mr. La and used to tell his friend that he was sure he was Branch who was reading the morning news over playing some trick upon him. A case entirely his coffee lifted up his eye at the moment has Edsimilar in its bearing is related in Smelie's Natural ward gone then?" said he, with a quizzing smile, History, the subject of which was a medical student and without an answer, sipped his coffee, and went in the University of Edinburgh. on with the paper, and Lauretta escaped from the breakfast table as soon as an opportunity offered. The flower was planted in the sunniest spot, and Lauretta watered it with so much care, and nursed it so attentively, that it took deep root and bore a full crop of roses. They were her companions— she used to sit for hours in her favorite bower, and gaze upon them and recall all the tender recollections they had brought to mind; and when the long summer months had faded away; and the autumn came in his garb of pensive sadness to wither the leaves and flowers, she redoubled her diligence to preserve them from the fate of their mates of the gar den; and to screen them from the unpropitious seasons, she conveyed the rosebush to her own neat parlor and still made it her hourly companion. A singular fact has often been observed in dreams which are excited by noise, namely, that the same sound awakens the person, and produces the dream, which appears to him to occupy a considerable time. The following example of this has been repeated to me. A gentleman dreamt that he had enlisted as a soldier, joined his regiment, deserted, was apprehended, carried back, tried, condemned to be shot, and at last carried out for execution. After all the usual preparations, a gun was fired; he awoke with the report, and found that a noise in an adjoining room had produced both the dream and awaked him. The same want of the notion of time is observed in dreams from other causes. of friendship-he did hope to be able to say more. He saw Lauretta; sat the flower down by her side; but his courage evaporated; his feelings overpowered him, and he could not utter a word about it. Dr. Gregory mentions a gentleman who, after sleeping in a damp place, was for a long time liable Edward Martin and Lauretta were old acquaintto a feeling of suffocation whenever he slept in a ly- ances. He had gone on business to Liverpooling posture, and this was always accompanied by a before he sailed he had brought her the Moss Rose dream of a skeleton, which grasped him violently-and he intended to say he brought it as a pledge by the throat. He could sleep in a sitting posture without any uneasy feeling; and after trying various experiments, he at last had a sentinel placed beside him, with orders to wake him whenever he sunk down. On one occasion he was attacked by The time had not yet arrived in which Edward the skeleton, and a long struggle ensued before he was expected to return, when early one morning the awoke. On finding fault with his attendant for al- door opened, and Mr. La Branch came in from his lowing him to lie so long in such a state of suffer-morning walk with Edward whom he met rambling ing, he was assured that he had not lain an instant, but had been awakened the moment he began to sink. The gentleman, after a considerable time, recovered from the affection. THE MOSS ROSE. FLOWERS, the emblems of youth, beauty, and innocence, and no less the frail mementos of human life, each, in the comparative brevity of its transient history, the same--have ever mingled with the story of affection, and shed their own sweet influence over the dreams of romance, and the rustic tale of village courtship. How often has a simple flower been the medium of intercourse between a diffident lover and his mistress-and told to her musing spirit the secret of his heart. How often, when kindred spirits have been doomed to separate, has a blushing flower remained the silent witness of unspoken vows. How many promises have lived on to their consuinmation, in the memory of flowers. in the direction of the mansion; and who had reach ed home the evening before. The family pressed round their friend-and Lauretta's eyes sparkled, and they both blushed when they shook handsthere was a mutual welcome as does the heart good; in which words spoke far less cordially than their feelings. A hasty breakfast over, Lauretta took him to her parlor, and pointed to the budding rosebush-"I have kept it," said she, "it is still fresh and beautifa." "I forgot the flower," replied Edward, "I thought only of you." Lauretta blushed and hung down her head. Meantime Mr. La Branch having lit his morning pipe, walked into the room: "I have spoken to the Dominie" "To marry us!" asked Lauretta and Edward, in the same breath interrupting him-so entirely had that subject engrossed their minds, that the words came out without a thought; and perfect confusion would have overwhelmed them both, but the old gentleman burst "Mama" said Lauretta one morning to Mrs. La into a laugh- no children' said he, "I spoke to Branch "I have a pretty Moss Rose for our flower him about a little roasted pig he was to send us for garden, shall I plant it in the border by the summer tomorrow's dinner-and I was going to say Edward house?" "Certainly, if you please, said the good must come over and help us eat it; but I will tell lady, "but where did you get such a treasure, him to bring his spectacles and prayer-book along Lauretta?" The sweet girl put on a deep blush- with him, and the other business can be done at the she had never dreamed of such a question, and was same time-Good morning?" and turning on his not prepared to answer it; with the dexterous in-heel, he walked directly over to the parsonage. genuity so peculiar to her sex, however, she extri- Edward and Lauretta occupy the neat cottage in THE WIDOW-EVERY HONEST EMPLOYMENT HONORABLE. the valley between the two estates, and afford a perfect commentary on the happiness of married life when it is on mutual love, and surrounded by the thousand charms of virtue. I have often thought of them, and the simple history of their courtship, when reading the accounts of breaches of marriage contracts, so frequent in our days.There was the mutual pledge of hearts,-unspoken, unexpressed-the only contract which is never broken-the only one in these matters which is worth the name. During the weary day, in her excessive weakness, she had been unable to step beyond her door stone, or to communicate her wants to any friend. Her last morsel of bread had been long since consumed, and none heeded her destitution. She sat at evening, by her small fire, half famished with hunger--from exhaustion unable to sleep-preparing to meet the dreadful fate from which she knew not how she should be spared. She prayed that morning, "Give me this day my daily bread," but the shadows of evening had descended upon her, and her prayer had not been an swered. While such thoughts were passing through her weary mind, she heard the door suddenly open and shut again, and found deposited in her entry by an unknown hand, a basket crowded with all those articles of comfortable food, which had the sweet ness of manua to her. What were her feelings on that night, God only knows! but they were such as rise up to him-the Great deliverer and provider, from ten thousand hearts every day. Many days elapsed before the widow learnt through what messenger God had sent to her that timely aid. It was at the impulse of a little child, who on that dismal night, seated at the cheerful fireside of her home, was led to express the generous wish that that poor widow, whom she had sometime visited, could share some of her numerous comforts and cheer. Her parents followed out the benevolent suggestion; and a servant was soon despatched to her mean abode, with a plentiful supply. What a beautiful glimpse of the chain of causes, all fastened at the throne of God! An angel, with noiseless wing, came down, stirred the peaceful breast of a child, and, with no pomp or circuinstance of the outward miracle, the widow's prayer was answered.-The Watchtower. 66 199 There "EVERY HONEST EMPLOYMENT HONORABLE."Dr. Beecher, in one of his lectures, says: is but one way of securing universal equality to man, and that is, to regard every honest employment as honorable, and then for every man to learn in whatsoever state he may be, therewith to be content, and to fulfil with strict fidelity, the duties of his station, and to make every condition a post of honor." This is a pure sentiment, which should be the only basis of respectability upon which any man should repose. If demagogues, who for sinister purposes, move heaven and earth, to awaken the most deadly those who have by more industry and more econoprejudices in the minds of the unreflecting, against ny, advanced themselves, would preach to their adherents, that the only road to respectability lies in individual effort, they might save themselves from those awful consequences of disorganization and riot, which must sooner or later burst upon their own guilty heads. All mankind are interested in promoting the peace and advancing the intelligence of the people. None can be interested in its disorganization but those who seek temporary elevation on its prejudice and its passion. That man is the worst enemy that society can have who seeks to array one class against another. It matters not what his motive may be, the consequences must be blighting to the best good of human society. In our land there is no royal road to fame. The way is open to all.burst from the shackles of abject poverty-the The brightest intellect that ever adorned the age, richest man of our country was once a poor Welsh boy who wandered from the green hils of his father's coltage, and sought employ in a merchant's counting-house. The poorest boy in our Republic may go up to the high places by unwearied industry, perseverance and economy; but there is not one within the whole length and breadth of this favored land, who will ever ascend to respectability or against the poor"-a partisan war-cry, "conceived wealth by joining in the hue and cry of the "rich in sin and brought forth in iniquity." Roman Commonwealth, and under the first emperors, the women were not only accustomed to drink wine, but carried the excess of it as far as the men, which, if we credit Pliny exceeded any thing of the kind in modern times. To prevent females from committing excessive crimes, the law-givers in ancient times prohibited the free use of wine. Seneca complains bitterly that in his day, the custom of prohibition was almost universally violated. The weak and delicate complexion of the women, says he, is not changed, but their manners are changed, and no longer the same. They value themselves upon carrying excess of wine to as great a height as the most robust men; like them they pass whole nights at the table, and with a full glass of unmixed wine in their hands, they glory in vieing with them, and if they can, in overcoming them. FEMALE TOPERS.-Towards the decline of the shut and your ears open." There is, rely upon it. I do not know any body, in any situation or profession in life, to whom this advice is not applicable. It is sometimes said that lawyers live by talking; that talking is their trade, and so on; but the fact is, the lawyers are as apt to talk too much as any body, and to suffer as much by it; to spin out a long argument, they necessarily fall into a habit of dealing more in fancy thau in facts, saying things about parties and witnesses that do much harm and no good, and their reputation for candor will generally diminish in the same proportion as that for loquacity increases. To hear some men at the bar, you would suppose that if they were held up by the feet the words would run out of their mouth by mere force of gravity, for a week at a time, without troubling their brains at all. A preacher may talk too much. One of the best sermons in the world was the sermon on the Mount. You may read it as reported in fifteen minutes.And though its style and powers are unapproachable, its brevity might well be often imitated. Our legislators talk too much. About nine tenths of all the specch-making in Congress and the legislature, is the mere sounding brass and tinkling symbol of vanity and egotism. Your really sensible men, such as Benjamin Franklin and Roger Sherman, never got up unless they had something to say, and always sat down as soon as they had said it. SUWARROW'S LACONISM. His movements were quick as lightning; yet his motto was; "Haste is necessary, hurry injurious." Prince Coburg on the Brumnith, in a French letter, urgently requests his assistance; he sends it back, with the Russian superscription: "I am coming Suwarrow;" and in a few hours he arrives with 16,000 men. The vizier, with 60,000 men is beaten. He scarcely approaches Ismael when the mighty fortress falls into his bands, and he writes: "The Russian standard flies on the walls of Ismael!" After the total defeat of the Polish army near Brest Litowsk, he wrote to Rumjanzow: "Sirakowsky's corps is no more!" A short time after, he writes: "Huzza! Warsaw is ours;" and receives the equally memorable reply: "Huzza! Field-marshal Suwarrow! Catharine." He never walked, he always ran; and never rode but in a gallop. He often repeated: "Money is necessary in war, but time is still more precious. I act by minutes, and not by hours." His words were as concise as his letters. Pressed by the enemy on all sides, the Austrian General, Melas, asks him whither to retire. With a pencil he writes in reply: "To Placencia, i. e. forward." Melas obeys. Macdonald is beaten on the plains of Hannibal, and Suwarrow receives the victorius Melas in Placencia. Baron Thugut wished to draw from him his plans for the war. Suwarrow gave him a blank sheet of paper, and hurrying away, he said: "These are my plans." But when it was proposed to him to act on the defensive, he said with indignation, to the foreign aid-de camp: "Tell your prince he is a MIND YOUR P'S AND Q's.-The original of the young man, but I am an old soldier; the words phrase "Mind your P's and Q's," is not generally retreat and defensive are not in my vocabulary.- known. In the ale-houses, where chalk scores were I have overthrown the theory of tactics hitherto formerly marked upon the wall or behind the door of employed and made my own. Adieu." He had the tap-room, it was customary to put these initial been the first to leave the blockaded fortresses letters at the head of every man's account, to show in the back of his army. He disliked ambi- the number of pints and quarts for which he was in guity in speech, as much as he loved short and de- arrear; and we presume many a friendly rustic to cisive replies. Asking one day an Austrian Gene- have tapped his neighbour on the shoulder when ral," Why did Hannibal not go to Rome after the he was indulging too freely in his potations, and to battle of Canne?" who immediately replied: "Per- have exclaimed," Giles! Giles! mind your P's and haps they had also a council of war at Carthage;"Q's." When Toby, the learned pig, was in the zehe instantly understood, and embraced him affec- nith of his popularity, a theatrical wag, who attendtionately. When this same council wished to pre-ed the performance, maliciously set before him some scribe to him his warlike movements, he had not peas, a temptation which the animal could not resist, even the patience to read their instructions through; and wrote underneath, "Full power to the General-in-Chief; reporting only to the Emperor in person such are my orders." His sayings were often very pithy, and he did not even disdain a pun. Hearing some person extolling the cunning of Dumouirez, he said: "He is not cunning who is considered as such." He delighted to repeat and explain his military tactics to his soldiers on the parade; and they were such that every one of them could understand them. One half the mischief in the world is done by talking. And one half the difficulty we get into as we go along through life, is the result of our saying what we might just as well have not said. There's much wisdom in the old maxin, "keep your mouth and which immediately occasioned him to lose his cue. The pig exhibitor remonstrated with the author of the mischief, on the unfairness of what he had done, when he replied that his only wish was to see whether Toby knew his P's from his cues. FRANKLIN. It is rather a curious incident, that when the American Congress sent Dr. Franklin, a Printer, as Minister to France, the Court of Versailles sent M. Girard, a bookbinder, as a minister to the United States. When Dr. Franklin was told of it, he exclaimed, "Well, I'll print the Independence of America, and Mr. Girard will bind it." It is stated that "the chicken, the moment it is hatched, is heavier than the egg was before." SUPPLEMENT TO THE CONNECTICUT COURANT. VOL. V. THE BLIND GIRL. FEBRUARY 9), 1839. 'I wandered to the garden gate, But there, half hid, with eye-lids closed, Among the flowers that, in her play, Some on her white dress blooming lay, The sweet blue light of laughing eyes. And smile of gay dreams telling- She lifted her soft face to me, While tears from those shut eyelids came; And half in sweetness, half in blame, She said-'I cannot see!" "9 SURPRISE: OR THE RETURN HOME. BY MRS. OPIE. ONCE on a time, and when the names of the famous and infamous did not travel as far and as fast as they now do, for mail coaches were not then invented, a young north countryman tramped up to No. 26. London, with almost all his wardrobe upon his back and his purse slenderly filled with guineas, but his head full of learning, and, what was better still, with great intellectual powers of various kinds. He had, also, self-denial and unwearied industry; and at length, after long toiling days and short nights, he found himself suddenly raised into opulence, consequence, and fame, by the successful exertion of his talents, and his scientific knowledge, assisted, no doubt, by the fortunate circumstances which had called them into action. But his health had required some relaxation; and as his heart yearned toward that tender mother who had been widowed during his absence, and the brothers and sisters who were grown since he saw them, out of childhood into maturity, he resolved to indulge himself in a visit to his native mountains; and with an eager, impatient heart, he set off on his long journey. My hero, whom I shall call William Deleval, was conscious of his high reputation, and no doubt enjoyed it; but when he first saw his native hills, and was at last welcomed by his mother and his family, he felt that there was a pleasure in the indulgence of natural affection, far beyond every enjoyment which wealth could bestow; and while they hung round his neck and welcomed the long absent wanderer home, the joys of family love banished awhile from his recollection the pleasures of gratified ambition. He soon discovered that his mother was wholly ignorant what a celebrated person she had the honor of entertaining; and as he had travelled without a servant, and was as plainly dressed as a gentleman at that time could venture to be, it was not possible for her even to suspect that he was a man of property; and when he produced some handsome presents for herself and his sisters, she expressed her fears that he had laid out more money than was prudent; "and though," added she, "I know that thou art well to do in the world, and can maintain thyself, still, Willie, dear, remember to take care of the pence, and the pounds will take care of themselves." Willie similed complacently on this effusion of maternal prudence; but perhaps he could not help being a little mortified at seeing that he, who was somebody in the world's opinion and esteem, was a mere nobody in his mother's, compared with her eldest son, Robin, who looked after the farm; and as he had lost his powers of climbing, running, wrestling, and breaking ponies, his young brothers and sisters thought him very inferior, to themselves; but as he was kind and generous, and admired them for the abilities which he did not possess, he was very soon their dear, dear Willie, and they did not know how they should ever bear to part again. Things had gone well with his family as well as himself during his long absence; for his father, a |