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lished and distributed. Then there is the difficult task of deciding upon the acceptance of proffered manuscripts. For one that delights him by its obvious and striking merit; its freshness and truth of sentiment, its brilliancy of style, its vigor of thought, or polished beauty of expression; there are almost invariably two or three, not decidedly and unequivocally bad, so as to justify him in pitching them headlong into the fire, the dealing with such being rather a relief than otherwise, but so curiously falling short of excellence, just by a shade or two; possessing so many good points, yet lacking the vivida vis, the raciness, the indescribable something by which readers are pleased and the tone of the magazine improved; in a word, so falling just below the standard, that the always unpleasant necessity of rejection is made actually painful by regret which has something in it of a personal nature. And very often, too, he has good reason to believe that the productions thus offered and thus found unsuited to his purposes have been written with other aspirations than those of mere ambition ; that trembling hopes have clustered round every page of the manuscript, alternating with fears, beyond which lay despair; that literary success has been dreamed of, thought of, striven for, as a refuge from poverty, as a means of relief from present or approaching destitution. Even in his short career as editor of a magazine, the writer of this article has received many letters revealing, even while they sometimes attempted to hide, the existence of hopes and fears such as he has endeavored to describe ; appeals to his sympathy, all the harder to resist because they obviously were not meant as such, but were the almost unconscious expression of feelings that rent the bosom in which they had their lodgment; and when he has found himself compelled to disappoint the hopes, the crushing of which he knew would be like a death-pang to the spirit that entertained them, he has exclaimed in very grief of soul, “Let him who has a soft place in his heart become an army-surgeon, a butcher or a turnkey, but let him not undertake the painful office of an editor.' Little do the readers imagine, when they perceive and enjoy his success in filling his pages with a brilliant succession of admirable papers, with what labor and regret and trial of the feelings these have been culled from among three or four times the number, many submitted to him with the most touching appeals for a word of cheer and a hand of aid, which he could not give because he knew that an inexorable judgment waited on his ministration; that an inexorable demand for the highest order of merit was ever before him, which he must satisfy or fall to the ground.' Ponder these remarks, reader, of a practised daily journalist, who derives his ó monthly experience from the first half volume only of his magazine; and doubt not their truth, when endorsed by one who is now striving to win your approbation in his twenty-fourth volume.

DUELLING.– We would ask the reader's attention to the admirable Tale of New-York,' from the pen of Matthew C. Field, Esq., in preceding pages. The incidents are founded on fact: the real name of one of the parties has been furnished us by the writer. We have rarely seen a more forcible illustration of the shameless manner in which duels are often forced upon parties who have themselves no real 'cause of quarrel.' Public attention, abroad as well as at home, has become thoroughly aroused to the evil and folly of what has so long been miscalled the code of honor.' In England, duelling has been abolished by act of parliament; and in the British army and navy it is now a criminal offence, with severe and disgraceful penalties, to be concerned either as principal or • friend' in a duel; and any one who treats disdainfully, or refuses to associate with, a fellow-officer, who abides by the new law, and submits to a verdict of the court of appeal,' which has taken the place of the old and barbarous mode of settling personal difficulties in the last resort,' is to be held as an offender against the late act, and to be punished ac. cordingly. We shall hear no more of honorable' murder in England. Public opinion is bearing strongly upon the practice generally in this country, and penal enactments in

many States prohibit it. Ridicule and burlesque also exercise no small influence against the custom. That was an effective example in this kind, of the gentleman in one of our northern counties, who when challenged by some dissolute Hotspur for a fancied or pretended slight, chose broad-swords for his weapons, and opposite sides of the St. Lawrence as the position of the combatants. On being remonstrated with, he changed the swords for pistols ; the parties to stand back to back on the top of a sharp conical hill in the neighborhood, each to march down eight paces, and then at the word of command to turn and fire! You ’re a coward, Sir!' said the challenger, when he found that his antagonist adhered immoveably to these last terms of combat. •Very well,' said the other; ‘you knew I was, or you would n't have challenged me!!

Gossip with READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. — We give below an interesting extract from the always pleasant and instructive personal correspondence of an esteemed friend and contributor, resident now and for many years, in an official capacity, at the Turkish capital. The articles referred to by our correspondent appear, one in the last and the other in the present number of the KNICKERBOCKER ; and both have the place of honor.' The first has excited much attention, and has been widely copied throughout the United States; the second, which opens the present number, is replete with a kindred oriental interest, and will prove equally attractive to American readers. Among the useful ornaments of our sanctura is a very large and comprehensive painting of Constantinople and its environs. The view is taken from Scutari, and embraces every object of interest, drawn and colored from nature, on both sides of the Bosphorus, from the opposing castles of Europe and Asia, down to Kudi-Keui, on the Sea of Marmora. It is a source of much enjoyment to us, whenever we receive a communication or private letter from our friend, to trace upon this picture any route which he may mention, or survey any locale which he may describe. We have looked down with him from the eminences of Scutari upon SeraglioPoint, the Seraglio, and the Harem, and upon the vast metropolis, with its domes and minarets, that rises beyond it; we have traversed, with unsated eyes, the road from Scutari to Kandili, in its entire length; and we have walked down the long hill from the new quarter of Scutari to the Turkish cemetery, with its groves of melancholy cypresses, that stretch their dark line down even to the ancient Calcedone, washed by the golden flood;' and yet we have never been out of our apartment to accomplish a matter so desirable. Pleasant, is n't it? But we are keeping the reader from our correspondent's letter: 'I need not tell you,' he writes, under date of April 7, ‘how gratified I am to find my articles worthy of admission to the pages of the first periodical in the United States, and which in Europe bears so high a reputation. The numbers you send me are always read, as well by my friends of the different foreign legations here as by myself, with great interest. I sent you lately an account of the plague in 1837, which I wrote at the time in my journal, and lately on perusal, thought might prove of interest to your readers; particularly as the plague has disappeared entirely from the Levant since the establishment of the quarantine in 1839. It is still however in Egypt, where it seems to have its origin, from the malaria of the Nile and the poverty of the people. The second article is an account of the Meddahs, or Story-Tellers of Constantinople. I purpose, so soon as the weather becomes milder and drier, to send you others of a like nature. I have for some time past been searching for original Eastern tales, in Turkish, Arabic or Persian, with the view of making a volume of Oriental Miscellany, or 'Curiosities of Eastern Literature. I have found a number, which I have translated, and purpose sending you a couple for insertion in your periodical. I lately heard of a unique manuscript in the library of a mosk, which I have a man now engaged in copying for me. It is a translation from the Persian into Turkish of an account of an embassy sent by the Shah of Persia to the Fag-foor ee Tchin, or Emperor of China. It gives an old but to us a new and very original account of China from the Persian frontier. In some of the recent works written by the English on China, I notice that mention is made of a Mussulman mosk and Mussulmans at Nankin, the latter wearing pointed caps. These are Persians, and I believe this work, which is not a very large one, will give an account of them. It deals largely on the subject of the laws and institutions of China, and descriptions of the country the writer passed through, with his reception by the Fag-foor. I am very happy to learn from Mr. PICKERING of the establishment of an American Oriental Society at Boston, and wish for it every success. We have few Orientalists, beyond the members of the Missionary Board, many of whom are men of considerable acquirements. They will doubtless be the principal contributors to the new Society. By the by; if you refer to an ethnographic map, you will perceive that the Turkish language is spoken, with but little change, up through all Turkey, the north of Persia, Tartary, Chinese-Tartary, and southern Siberia, as far as Behring's Straits; and it is a question I long to hear answered, whether it does not extend into America, where I am much of opinion it may be found among some of the languages of the North American Indians. I have a manuscript dictionary written at Bohara, Tartar-Turkish, and the present reigning family at Pekin, in Tartar (Turkish.) But something too much of this,' you will say. I am now writing off for you an account of an excursion to Mount Ida, and have been prevented from sending it to you long since, by indisposition and official occupations arising from the arrival here of our Minister Resident of the Great Republic. The young Sultan at present resides in the Old Seraglio, situated within the enceinte of ancient Byzantium. This is the palace in which all the former Sultans resided, down to the late Mahmoud II., who fled from it on account of the Janisaries, whom he feared, even after the destruction of their body as a corps-militaire ; but the present Sultan's favorite, Reza Pacha, has raised a parti-politique, composed of the religious, bigotted, and old-fashioned Mussulmans opposed to civilization and reform, to oppose Recud Pacha, the great liberal of Turkey, now in Paris ; and among other retrograde steps has reinstated the sovereign in the halls of his ancestors. It was there Mr. Carr was received, and presented his credentials, with all the usual form and ceremony, (although now greatly simplified,) observed on similar occasions. En passant: Carr signifies in Turkish, snow; and the Turks have joked a great deal about the New World Minister's name. He arrived here in the midst of the heaviest fall of snow we have had this winter; and when the Grand Vizier asked me his name, when the Minister made his official visit to him, he smiled, and turned it into a handsome compliment, by observing that. Every one knew snow was a great benefit to agriculture, and a blessing to the farmers, and he was confident the Minister would also be a valued blessing to the Porte.' The Grand Vizier, who is a most excellent and amiable man, inquired much about our American Indians, called here Yaban Adamlari, or the wild men of the New World; they are a subject of never-ending interest and curiosity to the people of the East. On inquiring about the form of our government, he did not like at all the frequent change of the President and other public officers, which he thought must be very detrimental to public affairs. He has been now Grand Vizier for some fifteen or twenty years, with an occasional retirement, and is much respected by all classes of the people. Like all other officers of the Porte, he commenced his career as a kiatib, or clerk, and rose through the several grades to his present high station. As one other little anecdote of Turkish politeness, (* barbarism ?') I will add, that a young gentleman, AMIN EFFENDI, called upon the Minister on the part of the Porte, to compliment him on his arrival. He with an air of kindness and politeness informed him that . His arrival had been a source of great joy and blessing to him, for during the last night his wife had for the first time borne him a son!' In politics I have little to relate to you. Just as has been the case ever since my arrival here in 1832, the English are now endeavoring to do the Turks good, against their will and desire; and Russia makes it her business to thwart her. I cannot say that the country is sinking any faster than it has done for twelve years past, for it rather improves; but the government is more corrupt than ever. But anon! I must not tell you any thing more now, but leave some for another time. We beg our friend to acquire 'a realizing sense of the fact that he cannot write us too often. Of the various letters which we receive from abroad, none are more cordially wel. come than those which reach us pierced and stabbed with quarantine instruments, and bearing, together with divers and sundry post and ship-marks, the anti-plague stamp 'purifié,' and the hieroglyphic Turkish seal. VERY possibly there may be some. thing worthy of heedful note in the ensuing poetical advice. We bethink us of but one example in kind, and that was Mr. DEUCEACE, the younger, whose 'hymenial younion, it will be remembered, was so exceedingly unhappy. Mr. YELLOWPLUSH draws a vivid portrait of him: “He was a slim, ellygant man as ever I see. He had very white hands, rayther a salo face, with sharp dark i’s, and small wiskus neatly trimd, and black as WARREN's jet. He spoke very low and soft ; he seemed to be watchin' the pusson with whom he was in convysation, and always flattered every body.' In short, Mr. DEUCEACE the younger was decidedly an elegant man:'

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We are in the receipt of a rather warmish communication from a correspondent, complaining, and very properly, we think, of a lack of courtesy on the part of a member of the Historical Society, in opposing a vote of thanks to Dr. BEAKLEY, for a lecture delivered before that body; in which he took the ground that the negro genus was, by course of nature, incapable of reaching the physical and mental eminence attained by the white race. The lecture was upon a theme which was at least a matter of opinion; its delivery was requested; and to say • Thank you,' for an intention to please or instruct, certainly could not shut out subsequent discussion, nor derogate from the dignity of, or commit in any way, the Historical Society. We have heard of a little incident connected with the enforcement, on one occasion, of the reverse of Dr. BEAKLEY's proposition, which rather illustrates than otherwise the impugned doctrine. A distinguished philanthropist, in holding forth at a meeting in Princeton, New Jersey, at which a collection was to be taken up, to aid the funds of an Abolition Society, dwelt briefly upon the intellectual capacity of the black race, and their equality in this respect with the whites. There were colored brethren sitting near him, he said, who were striking examples of the truth of his position. He closed his address with a fervent appeal to the pockets of his auditors: ‘Can any of my hearers,' said he, ‘be so unchristian, so penurious, so mean, so niggardly, as not to be wilVOL. XXIV.

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ling to give something in aid of the purpose for which we are assembled ?' He had scarcely sat down, when a colored brother' rose as he said to 'a p’int of order.' He said he

should like to know w'aåt dat gem'man last up meant by dat laäst 'spression about bein' niggerly? Dere 's as many mean men ʼmong white folks as ’mong de colored people; and it's sartain sure dat de last remark of de gem'man last up was n't called for, 'specially from a friend! This was considered a poser “at the time. The truth seems to us to be, that the negro is rather imitative than creative; and the specimens of his imitation which one sometimes encounters, are amusing enough. Glancing over a Troy journal the other day at a reading-room, we were struck with the magniloquent advertisement of one GEORGE B. Moreton, a colored shoe-maker. He must have failed aforetime, we infer; for among other things, he says: “The subscriber here fairly acknowledges that he has met with some pecuniary embarrassments, which for a while stabbed his reputation, and throw'd a gloom over his prospects.' lle is in the field again,' however, he adds, and promises every thing in the way of cheap and fashionable work: 'It is needless for the subscriber to give a detail, for his object will be universal grasp! In the course of his advertisement, Mr. More. Ton gives us this bit of personal history: “The public is aware that the subscriber is of an immediate, unadulterated African extraction. His own ancestors in by-gone days have sported with the furious aligator, that regales himself on the banks of the unadulterated Nile! · · •D. E. N.' has the rhyming facility,' but he is not a poet. He does n't lack words, but his words lack meaning. They have often a mere rhythmical connection. And how common this defect is in half the productions of our modern verse-writers! Sound, not sense, rhyme, not reason, would seem to be aimed at, in the greater part of the miscalled • poetry of the day. A London versifier pleasantly satirizes this species of mellow, meaningless metre in 'a lyric,' from which we clip two musical stanzas:

• UPRISING, see the fitful lark

Unfold his pinion to the stream;
The pensive watch-dog's mellow bark

O'ershades yon cottage like a dream;
The playful duck and warbling bee
Hop gaily on from tree to tree.'

• How calmly could my spirit rest

Beneath yon primrose-bell so blue,
And watch those airy oxen, drest

In every tint of purling hue;
As on they hurl the gladsome plough,
While fairy Zephyrs deck each bough!

A MORE ‘scorching' exposé of the character of a cowardly tyrant than MACAULEY has furnished to the last Edinburgh Review, in his article upon BERERE, it has never been our fortune to read. Every sentence is 'burnt in' as with a living coal. The following is an agreeable synopsis of the bloody terrorist's character: 'BARERE approached nearer than any person mentioned in history or fiction, whether man or devil, to the idea of consummate and universal depravity. In him the qualities which are the proper objects of hatred, and the qualities which are the proper objects of contempt, preserve an exquisite and absolute barmony. In almost every particular sort of wickedness he has had rivals. His sensuality was immoderate; this was a failing common to him with many others. There have been many men as cowardly as he; some as cruel; a few as mean, a few as impudent. There may also have been as great liars, though we never met with them, or read of them. But when we put every thing together, sensuality, poltroonery, baseness, effrontery, mendacity, barbarity, the result is something which in a novel we should condemn as caricature, and to which we venture to say no parallel can be found in history.' A graphic sketch is given of the daily scenes presented during the career of this cruel and black-hearted man, and his sanguinary companions: ‘Daily wagon-loads of victims were carried to their doom through the streets of Paris. The knife of the deadly machine rose and fell too slowly for the work of slaughter. Long rows of captives were mowed down with grape-shot. Holes were made in the bottom of crowded barges. All down the Loire, from Saumur to the sea, great flocks of crows and kites feasted on naked corpses, twined together in hideous embraces. No mercy was shown to sex or age. Lads and girls of seventeen were murdered by hundreds. Babies torn from the breast were tossed from pike to pike along the Jacobin ranks. One champion of liberty had his pockets well

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