" ' iiw‘onld have given the world for a crooked street.

23%)" and out of spirits.

, m” gamma: macaw. ‘ ‘

LITERATU’RE.

AMERICAN NOTES FOR GENERAL CIRCULATION. _ ' , n! ensues nicxnns, ESQUIRE. - AN ATLANTIC Suzanna m A STORM.—-Ii isthe third morn. ing. 1 am awakened out of my sleep by a dismal shriek from my wife, who demands to know whether there’s any danger. lrousc myself, and look out of bed. The water

jug is plunging and leaping like a lively dolphin; all the

smaller articles are afloat, except my shoes, which are strati- dod on a carpet bag, high and dry, like a couple of coal barges. Suddenly Isee them spring into the air, and be- hold the looking-glass, which is nailed to the wall, sticking fast upon the ceilinw. At the same time, the door entirely disappears, and anew one is opened in the floor.. Tlieii I begin to comprehend that the statewoom is standing on its head: Before his possible to make any arrangement, at all compatible with this novel state of things, the ship rights. Before one can say “Thank Heaven!” she wrongs again. Before one can cry she is_ wrong, she seems to have. started flirward, and to be a creature actively running of its own

'accord, with broken knees and failing legs, through every

variety ofhole and pitfiill, and stumbling constantly. .Be- fore one can so much as wbnder, she takes a high leap into the air. Before she has well done that, she takes a deep dive into the water. Before she has gained the surface, she throws a somerset. The instant she is on her legs, she rushes back- ward. And so she goes on, staggering, heaving, wrestling, leaping, diving, jumping, pitching, throbbing, rolling, and rocking; and going through all these movements, sonic- times by turns, and sometimes altogether; until one feels disposed to roar for mercy. A steward passes. ‘ Steward!’ ‘Sir?’ ‘ What is the matter ?---what do you roll this ?’ ‘Ra- ther a heavy sea on, sir, and a head-wind !’ lmagincg‘a hu- than face upon the vessel’s prow, with fifteen thousand Samp- sons in one bent upon driving her back, and hitting her ex- actly between the eyes whenever she attempts to advance an inch. Imagine the ship herself; with every pulse and artery of a huge body-swollen and burning underOtlns inal- treatment, sworn to go on or die. _Iinaginc‘thc wind bowl- ing, the sea roaring, the rain beating; all iii furious array against her. Picture the sky both dark and wild, and the clouds, in fearful sympathy with the waves, making another ocean in the air. Add to all this, the cluttering on the deck, and down below; the tread ofhurried feet; the loud hoarse shouts ofseiiuien; the gurgling in and out ofwatcr through ‘the sciippers; with, every now and then, the striking of a heavy sea upon the planks above, with the deep, dead,.lieavy I sound of thunder heard within a vault; and there is the head Wind ofthat January morning. ii * *

[This head-wian was precursor too. heavy gale :]-—

A/ heavy gale ofwind came slowly up at sunset, when We were about ten days out, and raged with gradually iii- creasing fiiry until morning, saving that it lulledfor an hour

’ a little before midnight. There was something in the natu- ral repose ofthat hour, and in the after gathering ofthe storm, so inconceivably awful and tremendous, that its burst: ing into full violence was almost a relief! The labouring of the ship in the troubled sea on this night I shall never for- get. ‘ Will it ever be worse than this ?’ was a question I had glen heard asked, when everything was sliding and bump~

'3 about, and when it certainly did seem difficult to coni- prehend the possibility ofanything afloat being more dis- turbed. without toppling over and going down. But what 'the agitation ofa steam-vessel is, on a bad winter night on

~ the wild Atlantic, it is impossible for the most vivid imagin- ation to conceive. To say that she is flung down on her side in the waves, with her masts dipping into them, and that, springing up again, she rolls over on the other side, until a heavy sea strikes her with the noise of a hundred great guns, and hurls her back—that she stops, and staggers, and shivers, as though stunned, and then, with a violent throbbing at l.er heart, darts onward like a monster goaded into madness, to be beaten down, and battered, and crushed, and leaped on by the angry seaétliat thunder, lightning, bail, and rain, and wind, are all in fierce contention for the mastery—that every plank has its groan, every nail its shriek, and every drop of water in the great ocean its howling voice -—ia nothing. To say iliat all is grand, and all appalling and horrible in the last degree, is nothing. Words cannot ex- press it. Thoughts cannot convey it. Only a dream can call it up again, in all its fury, rage and passion.

A Sort-:N'rii-‘ic Sco'rcu Lama—About midnight we ship- ped a sea, which forced its way through the skylights, burst open the doors above, and came raging and roaring down into the ladies’ cabin, to the unspeakable consternation of my wife and a little Scotch lady—who, by the way, had pre- viously sent a message to the captain by the stewardess, re- questing him, with her compliments, to have a steel conduc- tor immediately attached to the top of every mast, and to the chimney, in order lhat the ship might not be struck Willi lightning.

Dome THE AMMBLa—JI Ludi’crous Picture—They, and

the handmaid before mentioned, being tear, that l scarcely knew what to do with them, I naturally bothougbt myselfofsome restorative or comfortable cordial ; and nothing better occurring to me, at the moment, than hot brandy and water, I procured a ttimb'er-full without delay.

It being impossible to stand or sit without holding on, they were all heaped together in one cornerot'a long sofa—a fix- ture extending entirely across the cabin—where they clung to each other in momentary expectation of being drowned. When [approached this place with my specific, and was about to administer it, with many consolatory expressions, to the nearest sufferer, what was my dismay to see them all roll slowly down to the other end! And when I staggered to that end, and held out the glass once more, how imiiiense- ly baffled were my good intentions by the ship giving ano- ther lurch, and their all rolling back again! I suppose I dodged them up and down this sofa for at least a quarter of an lioitr, without reaching them once; and by the time ldid catch them, the brandy and Water was diminished, by con- stant spilling, to a tea-spoonful. To complete the group, it is necessary to recognise in this discoucerted dodger, a very pale individual, who had shaved his beard and dressed his httlt‘, last,.at Liverpool, and whose only article of dress (linen not included), were a pair of drcadnought trowsers; - blue Jacket, formerly admired upon the Thames at Rieli- inond; no stockings, and one slipper.

Tait Ur'ti'rsp STATES BANK—PHILADELPHIA.—IV6 reach- ed Philadelphia late at night. Looking out of my chamber Window, before going to bed, I the way a handsome building of white marble, which had a m9m'nfilli ghost-like "Spect, dreary to behold. [attributed this to the sombre influence ofthe night, and on rising in the morning, looked out again, expecting to see its steps and portico throngcd Iwith groups ofpeople passing in and out. lhe door was still tight shut, the same cold cheerlcss air Breaded, and the building looked as if the marble statue of

onIanman could alone have any business to transact

Within its gloomy walls. [hastened to inquire its name and purpose, and then my surprise vanished. It was the tomb ,ofmauy fortunes, the great catacomh of investment, the me- ‘morable United States Batik. Tho Stoppage 0fthis bank ..with all its ruinous consequences, has cast (as I was told oil .overy side)a gloom on Philadelphia, under the depressin" ofi'ect ofwhich ityet laboured. It certainly did seem rather: It is a handsome city, but distract- After walking about it for an hour or two, I The col- lar of my coat appeared to stiffen, and the brim of my hat to expand, beneath its Quakerly influence. My hair shrunk into a sleek short crop, my hands folded themselves upon my breast oftheir own calm accord, and thoughts oftaking lodgings in Mark-lane, over against the market-place, and of making a large fortune by speculations in corn, came over me involuntarily.

Fae-roar Guns—After stating the astounding fact that in Iluly, 1841, nine hundred and seventy-eight of these fac- tory girls were depositors in the Lowell Savings Bank to the amount Jomtly of$100,000, or £30,000 (is it possible ?)——Mr. Dickens .goes on to say—“Iain now going to state three facts, Which 'Will startle a large class of readers on this side ofthe Atlantic very much. Firstly, there is ajoint-stock pi- ano in a great many of the boarding-houses. Secondly, nearly all these young ladies subscribe to circulating libra- ries. Thirdly, they have got up among themselves a peri- odical called ‘Tlte Lowell Ofl'eriiig,’ a repository of origi-

gly regular.

in such extacics of

I saw on the opposite side of

no] articles, written exclusively by females actively employed in the mills, which is duly printed, published and sold; and whereof I brought away from Lowell four hundred good solid pages, which I have read from beginping to end. I_he largu class of readers, startled by these facts, wull excliiim with one voice, ‘How very preposterous!’ On my defer- entially inquiring why? they Will answer, ‘These things are above their station.’ In reply to tltelt‘ObjeCllot], I would beg to ask what their station is? lt is their station to work, and they do work. They labour in these mills, upon an average, 12 hours a day, which is llltt-qllesllt)llttl)ly work, and pretty tight work too. Perhaps it is above their statiop to indulge in such amusements, on any terms. .Are wequite sure that. we in England have not formed our ideas of the ‘statiou of working people fi‘om accustoming ourselves to the coiitciii; plation ofthnt class as they are, and not as they might be . I think that if we examine our own feelings we shall find that the pianos, and the circulating.Iibraries, and even the ‘Lowell Ofleriug,’ startle us by their noyeliy, and not by their bearing upon any abstract questionrofrigbt or wrong. For myself, [know no station in which the occupation of to-day, cheerfully done, and the occupation pfto—uiorrow cheer-fully looked to, any one ofthcse pursuits is-not 'most liiimauisuig and laudable. I know no station which is rendered more eudurable to the person in it, by having ignorance for its as- sociate. I know no station which has a right to monopolize the means of mutual instruction, improvement, and rational entertainment; or which has ever continued to be a station very long lifter seeking to do so. .

Bosrox—When I got into the streets, upon this Sunday morning, the air was so clear, the houses were so bright and gay; the sign-boards were painted in such gaudy colors; the gilded letters were so very red, the stone was so very white, the blinds and area railings were so very green, the knobs and plates upon the street doors so inarvelloiisly bright and twinkling; and all so slight and unsubsiaiitial in appearance—that every tl‘ioro-ughfhre in the City lookeil ex- actly like a scene in a pantomime. It rarely happens in the business streets that a tradesinan, ifl may venture to call anybody a trudcsman, where every body isa merchant, re- sides above liis store; so that many occupations are often carried on in one house, and the whole front is covered with boards and inscriptions. ’

The suburbs are, ifpossible, even more iiusubstantial look- ing than the city. The white wooden houses (so white that it makes one wink to look at them), with their green jalousic blinds, are so sprinkled and dropped about in all directions, without seeming to have any root at all in the ground, and the small churches and chapels are so prim, and bright, and highly varnished, Ialinost believed the whole affair could be taken up piecemeal, like a child’s toy, and crammed into a little box.

The city is a beautiful one, and cannot fail,1 should ima— gine, to impress all strangers very favourably. The private dwelling houses arc,for'tlie most part, large and elegam . the shops extremely good; and the public buildings hand- some. Thc State House is built on the summit of a bill which rises gradually at first, and afterwards by a steep as. cent, almost from the water’s edge. In front is a, green in. closure, called the Common. The site is beautith ; and from the top there is a charming panoramic View of the whole town and neighbourhood.

THE LADIES 0F BOSTON—The tone of society in Boston

’

the last, that you seem to have beentranslated back iigaintpy magic. The train calls at stations in the woods, w'iere i . wild impossibility of anybody buying the smallest icason to, first out, is only to be equalled by the apparently despeiatc hopelessness of there being anybody to get in. It iiishes across the turnpike road, where there is no gate, no policef; man, no signal: nothing but a rough wooden arch, on WhIIJC is painted “ WHEN Tris BELL RINGS, coox our son THE 0— COMO'I‘IVE.” On it whirls headlong, dives through the woods again, emerges in the light, clatters over frail arches, tum— bles upon the heavy ground, shoots beneath _a wooden- bridge which intercepts the light for a second 'like a Wink, suddenly awakens all the slumbering echoes in the main street ot'a large town, and dashes on; liap-hazair-d, pell-mell, neck or-nothiiig, down the middle of the road. I‘here—with mechanics working at their trades, and people leaiiiug frpin their doors and windows, and boys flying kites and playing marbles, and men smoking, and women talking, and children crawling, and pigs burrowuig, and unaccustomed horses , plunging and rearing, close to the very railsf—ther'e—ou, on, on—toars the mad dragon of an engine With its train of cars , scattering in all directions a shower of bllI'lHllg’Spal'kS from its wooil‘fire; screeching, hissing, yelling, panting; until at. last the thirsty monster stops beneath a coyered way to driu k, the people cluster round, and you have time to breathe again.

(From Gatlcy’s Lady's Boo/c for October.)

AN INCIDENT RELATED 0F BYRON. BY N. P. WILLIS.

It was getting towards iiiiilnight when a party of young iioblenieii came out from one ofthe clubs of St. James- Street. The servant ofeach, as he stepped iipmttlie pave- ment, threw up the wooden apron of the cabriplet, and- sprang to the head ofthe horse; but as to the destiiiationot the equipages for the evening, there seemed to be some dis- seiisiou among the noble masters. BetWIxt the line of coro- netted vehicles stood a hackney-coach, and a person in an attitude of'eagcr expectancy, pressed as near the exhilarated group as he could do without exciting immediate attention.

“ Which way ?" said he whose vehicle was nearest, stand- ing with his foot on the step.

“ All together, of course,” said another. night of it.” .

“ Pardon me,” said the deep and sweet veice of the last out from the club; “I secede for one.-—-Go your ways, gen- tlemen.” .

“ Now, what the deuce is n-foot ?” said the foreman, again stepping back on the sidewalk. “ Don’t let him ofl; Fitz? Is your cab bore, Byron, or will you let me drive you! By Jove, you slian’t leave us!”

“ But you shall leave me, and so you are not foresworn, my friend! In plain phrase, I won’t go with you. And I don’t know where I shall go, so spare your curiosity the trouble ofaskiiig. l have a presentimeut that I am wanted —by devil or angel, . t

“I see a hand you cannot see.”

“ And a very pretty hand it is, I dare swear,” said the for- mer speaker. jumping into his cab, and starting off with a spring ofhis blood horse, followed by all the vehicles at the club door, save one.

Byron stood looking after them a moment, and raised his hat and pressed his hand hard on his forehead. The tin-

“ Let’s make a

is one of perfect politeness, courtesy, and good breeding. The ladies are unquestionably very beautiful—in face; but there Iain compelled to stop. Their education is much as with us; neither better nor Worse. I had heard sonic very marvellous storicsin this respect; but. not believing them, was not disappointed.

AN AMERICAN l{AiLaoan.—I made acquaintance with an American railroad, on this occasion, for the first time. All these works are pretty much alike all through the States, their general characteristics are easily described. There are no first and second class carriages, as with us; but there is a gentlenien’s car and a ladies’ car; the main distinction between which is, that in the first, everybody smokes; and in the second, nobody does. As a black man never travels with a white one, there isalso a negro car; which is a great blundering clumsy chest, such as Gulliver put to sea iii, from the kingdom ofBrobdignag. There isa a great deal ofnoisc, agrcat deal ofwall, not much window, a locomotive engine, a shriek, and a bell. The cars are like shabby omnihuses, but larger; holding thirty, forty, fifty people. The seats, instead of stretching fi'om end to end, are placed crosswise. Each seatholds two persons. There is a long row ofthem on each side of the caravan, a narrow passage up the middle, and a door at both ends. In the centre ofthe carriage there is usually a stove with charcoal or anthracite coal, which is for the most part red-hot. It is iiisufl‘erably close; and you see the hot air fluttering be- tween yourselfnnd any other object you may happen to look at, like the ghost of smoke. In the ladies’ car there are a great many gentlemen who have ladies with them. There are also a great many ladies who have nobody with them : for any lady may travel about from one end ofthe United States to the other, and be certain ofthe most courteous and considerate treatment every where. The conductor, or checktaker, or guard, or whatever he may he, wears no uni- form. He walks up and down the car, and in and out of it, as his fancy dictates ; leans against the door with his hands in his pockets, and stares at you, ifyon chance to be a straiiwei'; or enters into conversation with passengers about him.” A great many newspal'iers are pulled out, and a few ofthem are read. Every body talks to you, or to any body else who hits his fancy. Ifyoii are an Englishman, he expects that that railroad is pretty much like an English railroad. Ifyou say “No,” he says “Yes?” (interrogatively,) and asks in what respect they differ. You enumerate the heads ofdif- l'crence, one by one, and he says “ Yes?” (still interroaativc- ly) to each. Then he guesses that you don’t travel faster in England; and on your replying that you do, says, “Yes P” again (still interrogatively,) and, it is quite evident, don‘t be— lieve it. After a long pause, he remarks, partly to you, and partly to the knob on the top of'his stick, that “Yankees are reckoned to be a considerable ofa go-a—head too;” upon which you say “ Yes,” and then he says “Yes ” again (affirmatively this time ;) and upon your lookintr out of a window, tells you that behind that hill, and some three miles fro-:1 the next station, there is a clever town and a smart lopatioii, where he expects you to have coucliided to stop. _ Ionr answer in the negative naturally leads to more questions in reference to your intended route (always pro- nounced rout); and wlicreveryou are going, you invariably learn that you can’t get there without immense difliculty and danger, and that all the great sights are somewhere else. lfa lady takes a fancy tp any male passenger’s seat, the gen- tleman who accompanies her gives notice ofthe fact, and he iuii‘iicdiately vacates it with great politeness. Politics are discussed, so are banks, so is cotton. Quiet people avoid the question ofthe Presidency, foi'there will he anew election in three years and a half, and party feeling runs very high: the great constitutional feature of this election bein" that directly the acrimony ofthe last election is over the a: rimony ofthe next liegiiis ; which is an unspeakable delitrht to all strong politicians and true lovers oftheir country ; that is to say, to. ninety-nine and aquai'ter. Except when a branch roadfiioius the main one, there is seldom more than one track of rods: so that the road is very narrow, and the View, where there is a cutting, by no means extensive. When there is not, the character ofthe scenery is always the saute. Mile after mile of stunted trees; some hewn down by the axe, some blown down by the wind some half fallen and resting on their neighbours, many mer-e lows hair hidden in the swamp, others mouldered away to :10" v chips. The very soil ofthe earth is made up of minutei frag;- ments such as these; each pool ofstagnant water has ifs crust of vegetable rottenness; on every side there are the EpiiighifaqizéginElegy $223qu of til'lees, in every possible einrcl'ge for a few brief iiiinutesltin "an" on‘eglem. Now’ you . I . - pen country, alitter- ing With some bright lake or poal, broad as many aii l“n« glish river, but so small here that it scarcely has a ‘ nunie‘ now catch hasty glimpses ofa distant town, with its clettll white houses and their cool piazzas, its prim New Enaltind church and schoolhouse; when wliir-r-r! almost beforii you have seen them, comes the same dark screen: the studied

people,

great deal of'jolting, )

known person who had been lurking near, seemed willing lto leave him for a moment to his thoughts, or was embar- (rassed atapproacliiiigu stranger. As Byron turned with l his halting step to descend the steps, however, he came sud-l idcnly to his side. ’