«Che Kamer, - AND SEMI-WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER. a New Series. ne ne “THIS IS TRUE LIBERTY WHEN FREE-BORN MEN—HAVING TO ADVISE THE PUBLIC_MA’ tt ttt ttt — ee Se re ee ADVISE THE PUBLIC—MAY SPEAK FREE.”—MiLron’s Eurrrrpes. PORTRY. THE FAMILY GATHERING, 1951. BY THE AUTHOR OF PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY, &c, For happiness, unity, plenty, and peace, And brotherhood over the world, For loves to increase, and dissensione to cease, And wor’s bloody flag to be furi’d, Come, re together with hearty good will, In the warmth of a generous mind, And bring us the best of your strength and your skill, To bless and to better mankind! Let quickened invention its secret imparts The body to succour in need , Let taste and high breeding, and delicate art, The mind with their melodies feed ; Let just emulation and genius be glad To join in the liberal strife, Which seals to the world al! the wealth that it had, And adds to the pleasure of life! Se gather together! your leader and Prince, With many a true man beside, Has set up his standard the world to con- vince That commerce and love are allied ; For man, of al) nations and kindred, is one, And heartily well is it worth, Thus kindly to cause in the sight of the sun, A family Meeting of Earth. s BEBCRLLANY. A SCENE AT THE POST OFFICE. The following graphic description of the mailing of Newspapers at the London Post Office, is from a late Neo. of the Quarterly Review. At three quarters past five a few news- papers, only by twos and by threes et a time, are to be heard falling heavily through the broad slits into the spacious bins for receiving them, and the stranger has accordingly still reason to think that in the newspaper department of this world something somewhere must have gone wrong. In a few miautes, however, a professional, business-like tap is heard at the window, and a Jean, tal}, sinewy man- in-waiting within, hitherto unobserved, who, with his sleeves tucked up, has been standing luke a statue on the interior sill, opening the window, receives a dirty pocket handkerchief full of newspapers which he tumbles into a white wicker basket, two feet three inches cube, stand- ing all ready beneath. He has scarcely, with rather a disdainful jerk of his hand, returned the dirty rag to its still dirtier owner, when there is pushed towards him a large long sack, which in like manner having been emptied into the basket is chucked to its proprietor. Bags, bundles, and sacks of all sizes, shapes, and lengths, pow arrive so rapidly, that the man-in-waiting suddenly throws open the whole of the window, and in receiving, emptying, and throwing about bags, he commences a series of gymnastic exer- cies which are astonishing to witness. On the night on which we beheld the operation it happened that the newspapers forthe India Mail were to be added to those of the heaviest night of the week. In consequence of which the number of bags were increased so rapidly, that an assistant porter of the same lean, active make, jumping on the broad sill, opened 4%cond window. At five minutes before 6 these men were at times so nearly over- whelined with bags of all colours and sizes, that inost of those who had brought only large bundles chucked them them- selves into the office. As the finger of the clock advanced the arrivals increased. As fast as the two men could possibly empty and eject the sacks, the baskets beneath them (each holding on an average 500 newspapers) were dragged by scarlet postmen into the lifting machine, in which on its platforms they were to be seen through the bars of their respective cages, one set after another, rising to- wards the upper sorting halls. At a minute before six the two window-men were apparently working for their very lives; parcels of newspapers like barred- shot hurled past them ; single newspapers, mostly discharged by boys, like musket- ry, were flying over their heads. At last the clock mercifully came to their rescue, and though the first five strokes seemed to increase the volley, the last had ho sooner struck than, before its melodious note had completely died away, both the wooden windows of the news- paper receiving-room of the inland depart- ment, by a desperate eifort, were simul- taneously closed by the lean janitors, whom, apparently exhausted by their oxtraordinary exertions, we observed in- stantly to set down on a bar, behind them, in order, in peaceful quietness, to wipe with their shirt sleeves the perspiration which stood in dew-drops on their pale honest faces. Natoran Science as a Brancu or GeneRaL Epucation.—but ere the churches can be prepared competently to ceal with it, or with the other objections ofa similar class which the infidelity of an age so largely engaged és the present in physical pursuits will be from time to time originating, they must greatly extend their educational walks into the field of physical sciezce. The mighty change which has taken place during tie present century in the disection in whieh the minds of the &rst order are operating, though indicated on the face of the coun- , try in characters which cannot be mis- taken, seems to have too much escaped the notice of our theologians. Speculat- ive theology and the metaphysics are cognate branches of the same science; and when, a8 iu the last and preceding ages, the hivher philosophy of the world was metaphysical,the churches tock ready cognisance of the fact, and, in due ac- cordance with the requirements of the time, the battle of the evidenee was fought on metaphysical ground. But, judging from the preparations made in their colleges and hails, they do not now seem sufficiently aware,—though the low thunder of every railway, and the saort of every steam-engine, and the whistle of the wind amid the wires of every electric telegraph, serve to nublish the fact,—that itis the department of physics, not of metaphysics, that the greater minds of the age are engaged,—ihat the Lockes, Humes, Kants, Barkleys, Dugald Stuarts and ‘Thomas Browns belong to the past, —and that the philosophers of the present time, tall enough to be seen a!! the world over, are the Humbolis, the Aragos, the Agassizes, the Liebies, the Owens, the Herschels, the Bucklands, and the Brew- sters. Inthat educational course through which, in this country, candidates for the minisiry pass, in preparation for their office, 1 find every group of great minds which hag in turn influenced and directed the mind of Europe for the last three centuries, represented, more or less ade- quately, save the Inst. It isan epicome of all kinks of learning, with the excep- tion of tne kind most imperatively requir- CHARLOTTETOWN, AUGUST 31, 1350. Vol. 1: No. 61 A Ra Ose genius of the time. The restorers of classic literature,—the Buchanans and Erasmuses, we see represented in our universities by the Greek and what are termed the humanity courses; the Galil- eos, Boyles, and Newtons, by the muthe- matical and natural philosophy courses ; and the Locks, Kants, Humes, and Berk- leys by the metaphysical course. But the Cuviers, the Huttons, the Cavendish- es, and the Watts, with their successors, the practical philosophers of the present age—men whose achievements in physi- cal science we find marked on the surface of the country in characters which might be read froin the moon—are not adequate- ly represented ;—it would be perhaps more correct to say, that they are not represented at all; and the clergy asa class, suffer themselves to linger far in the rear ofan intelligent and accomp- lished Jaity, a ful! age behind the requir- ements of the time. Let them not shut} their eyes to the danger which is obvi- ously coming. The battle of the evi- dences will have as certainly to be fought on the field of physica! science, as it was contested in the Jast age on that of the metaphysics. And on this new arena the combatants will have to employ new weapons, which it will be the privilege of the chaltenger ‘to choose. The old, op- posed to these, would prove but of little avail. In an age of muskets and artil- lerv, the bows and arrows of an obsolete school of warfare would be ‘ound greatly less than sufficient in the field of battle, | for purposes either of assault or defence. --Foot-prints of the Creator, by Hugh} Miller. [From the New York Spirit of the Timez.] A “Nolle Prosequi,” Some years since, Lieut. B——, ofthe Navy, happesing to bave been engaged ina duel where the other parties were ar- rested, fortunately made his escape into New York, where he remained concealed by some of his brethren in the service for a few days. B-— had heen bred on the ocean from his boyhood, where he had learned every jot and tittle of his profes- sion, remaining, however, sadly deficient on shore-going intelligence, particularly in relation to the jaws, Commodore C——y was at that time in New York, and these who remember him will recol- lect him as being one of the Benhow school—a “rusty old Commodore”—a sailor “from truck to kelson?’—having litte faith in knowledge not learned un- der “ ba'ance-reefed courses,” and posses- sing muci lesa knowledge of,and far greater contempt for,a “ land-lubber’s” education than his subordinate, B . Hearing that a“ nolle vrosequi” had been issued in the case of the parties concern- ed, including B——, and apprehending that it was some terrible device for en- trapping the unsuspecting sailors, hasten- ed with paternal solicitude to B’s place of concealment. “B ;my dear fellow, don’t you think they’ve got outa“ nolle prosequi” for you !” “The h--l] they have!” said B—~. “Well, I'd better cut and run, hadn’t {7” For B--— had no more idea of what a “mol. pros.” was thana lawyer had of what “abaft the binacle” meant. D—n me! ] don’t want to be swallowed up by these ‘ land-sharks.’ ” “ Certainly not, my boy,” said the Com- mocore. “So ‘top your boom’ as soon as possible, and here’s the means ot bearing your {cxpenses,” handing him his purse: The next that was seen of B——- was near the Canada line, in Vermont. ed, because most in accordance with the} ‘Hallo, B--—!” eaida friend, who a chanced tosee him—“you seemto be travelling in haste—whither away ?” “To Canada, by G—d!” said B—~. “ But why so fast?” cried the friend “Why, I blundered into a duel, and these d—d lawyers have got a ‘nolle prosequi’ after me.” “ Well, bat, my dear fellow, that means that they have stopped the proceedings— that they don’t mean to prosecute you— that you won’t be indicted.” “'Phe h—il it does!” said B——, ina quandary—* the old man made a h—Il of of a mistake, then.” After explaining the matter to his friend, he determined to return. Arrit- ing at New York, he hastened to find the Commodore. * Hallo, B ” said the Commodore, “where the d—! have you been 2?” “ Been !” said B——, “why you ought to know—been! why, Pve been looking out for Cape-fly-away—l’ve been cruising after the Flying Dutchman—-and it’s all your fault, Commodore. I[ thought you knew more of a lawyer’s lingo.” The Commodore, had in the meantime learned his blunder, and quietly made “himself snug” to weather the scrape by “ paying out” to B——. ‘* Why, so I did,” said he, “but I only meant it asa good joke apon you; | didn’t think you’d be such ad—d swab as to run in earnest.” “Swab—good joke—but let me tell you, Commodore, your good joke may -_ me my commission.” Hey! how! Well, so it might,” said the Commedore, in great distress; “ but never mind, B—-——, my dear boy, ifthe Department makes a fnss about it, why Plii—d—n me, Pil issuea ‘ Nolle Prose- qua.’ " A Trageoy wirnin a TRaGEpyY.—In taly the empreseario of a theatre has al- most Jimitless cutkority over the men- bers of his company. Mad. Malibran was once condemned to pass twenty-four hours in prison, at Naples, for having omitted the rondo of the Somnambula without the permission of the stperinten- dent. Corelli, one of the greatest bari- tones of Italy, lost his father just as he was sbout attending the theatre. He made the most earnest appeals to the Gis rectors to let him off for that night, but ae the house was full, and ihey were in need of money, they refused. The artist went on the stege overvhelmed with grief, end was received, as usua!, with three rounds of applause. Core'liemdeavoured to sing, but bis voice and his strenyth utterly failed him. The public first gave way to astonishment, then to murmers, then to hisses. Corelli could endure. this no longer—he burst into sobs, and coming forward, he said, “ Gentlemen, pardon me for having sung false--—1l have just lost my father,” No language can give any idea of the profound impression these few words made upon the audience, Of course, the performance was stopped.— Lucia di Lammermoor was played in the latter part of last April, at the theaire of Trapani. The tenor, a young man of true talent and of great promise, learned that morning that his mother had died. He apphed to the management to be al- lowed to absent himself frou» the theatre that evening—the application was denied. He begged and prayed without success--- he was threatened with imprisonment. Evening came, the unhappy young man sung the role of Edgard with so sombre an energy, with so true a grief, and a sensibility so profound that the wondering auditory warmly applauded him, never dreaming that the artist experienced in hie own heart the sentiments he exprese- ed. In the tomb ecene he rose to subli- mity ; but when he came to the last words, — ah ~£% get — ~ a aoe