"Thus man is considered, not only in his corporeality, but in his essence, or capability of being; for a man, metaphysically, or to metaphysical purposes, hath two natures."

"What man?"

66 Why any man. Malachi there, for example: I may take Malachi as Malachi spiritual, or, Malachi corporeal."

"That is true, for when I was in the Militia I was made a corporal and carried grog to the drummer."

"Oh! That is quite a different affair. When we speak of essence, we mean the essence of locality, the essence of duration-"

"And the essence of Peppermint?

"The essence I mean is quite a different affair."

66 Something too fine to be dribbled through the worm of a still."

"There we go again. I declare I'm all in the dark."

"It is a thing that has no inatter; that is, that it cannot be felt, heard, smelt, or tasted. It has no substance nor solidity, large nor small, hot nor cold, long nor short."

"Then what is the long and the short of it?"

"Abstraction!"

"Well, Doctor, what do you say to a pitchfork as an abstraction?"

"A pitchfork would mean none in particular, but one in general, and would be a thing in abstraction."

"It would be a thing in the haymow."

"Doctor, have many such things been discovered?

"Discovered! why all things, whether in Heaven, or on the earth, or in the waters under the earth, all may be considered abstractions."

"Indeed! well what do you think of a red cow for an example?"

"A red cow, considered as an abstraction, would be an animal possessing neither hide nor horns, bones nor flesh; it would have no color at all, for its redness would be the mere counterfeit or imagination of such. It would neither go to pasture, chew cud, give milk, nor do anything of a like nature." "A dog's foot-all the metaphysics under the sun wouldn't make a pound of butter."

"That's a fact," said Uncle Tim, and here the conversation ended.

E PLURIBUS UNUM.

Though many and bright are the stars that appear

In the flag of our country unfurl'd;

And the stripes that are swelling in majesty there,
Like a rainbow adorning the world;

Their lights are unsullied as those in the sky,
By a deed that our fathers have done,
And they're leagued in as true and holy a tie,
In their motto of "Many in one."

From the hour when those patriots fearlessly flung
That banner of starlight abroad,

Ever true to themselves, to that motto they clung,
As they clung to the promise of God;

By the bayonet trac'd at the midnight of war,
On the fields where our glory was won

Oh! perish the hand, or the heart that would mar
Our motto of " Many in one."

'Mid the smoke of the contest, the cannon's deep roar,
How oft it hath gathered renown;

While those stars were reflected in rivers of gore,
When the cross and the lion went down.

And tho' few were the lights in the gloom of that hour,
Yet the hearts that were striking below,

Had God for their bulwark, and truth for their power,
And stopp'd not to number their foe.

The oppress'd of the earth to that standard shall fly,
Wherever its folds shall be spread;

And the exile shall feel 'tis his own native sky,

Where its stars shall float over his head;

And those stars shall increase till the fullness of time
Its millions of cycles has run;

Divide as we may in our own native land,
To the rest of the world we are one.

Then up with our flag! let it stream on the air,

Though our fathers are cold in their graves;

They had arms that could strike, they had souls that could dare,

And their sons were not born to be slaves!
Up, up with that banner where'er it may call,
Our millions shall rally around;

A nation of freemen that moment shall fall,
When its stars shall be trailed on the ground.

VENTRILOQUISM.

CAPT. CUTLER.

As a

This is a faculty long supposed to have existed only with the few, considered by the multitude as especially gifted. The principles of Elocution prove that it can be acquired. general thing, we have neither necessity nor occasion to use the voice in the manner in which it is produced. Most persons, in former times, have actually believed that the voice left the body of the operator, and was thrown or "cast" in various directions, at will. This is impossible, and yet, with all its absurdity, it is difficult to convince many, even at the present day, to the contrary.

It is only in seeming that the sound comes from any indicated direction; it is merely a concentration or suppression of the voice within the lungs which gives the appearance of distance to sound thus produced. To practice ventriloquism effectively, it is necessary to begin with simple sounds, making them from the depth of the lungs. Take the vowels first, then the explosives; render them clear and full. After the voice is well established, as coming from the lungs, and not on the lips, and about the throat, then shut the teeth and endeavor to give the sounds in the mouth; having it rounded and arched, to give greater resonance.

Finally, close the lips compactly over the teeth, and give the sounds, as before, from the lungs: be sure of full and deep breathing first. To make the sounds very faint, to represent extreme distance, compress the muscles of the throat closely together, and thus prevent the sound from too audibly escap

ing. Practice these sounds in every variety of manner until under complete control; and then let ingenuity devise as to language and characters suitable to experiments in this department of vocal science. It is very simple, and only requires practice to excel in it. Almost any person can acquire it who has ordinary good vocal organs. It is speaking from the lungs rather than from the lips and throat. It is capital practice for the voice to acquire this peculiar command over the lungs.

SCENE.

Have a box, supposed to be a hotel, Peter, the landlord, within.

OPERATOR AND PETER.

Operator. (Knocks on the box). Peter! halloo! Peter! (pause). He sleeps very sound-(to audience). Peter! (knocks), Halloo! Peter!

Peter. (Inside.) Halloo, there! what do you want?

Op. I want to come in.

Pet. No, no, I don't want you in here.

Op. If you don't open this door, I'll knock your sign down.
Pet. If you do, I'll knock you down.

Op. Well, Peter, there are some ladies out here that wish

to see you.

Pet. No, they don't.

Op. Yes, they do.

Pet. Well, I know they don't.

Op. Well, are you coming out?

Pet. No, I won't.

Op. Well, then, I'll open the door. (Lifts the cover of the box.)

Pet. (Speaking louler, as the box is opened.) Shut down the door.

Op. (Shuts it down.)

Pet. (Voice as before.) I don't want to come out there.

Op. Well, have you the keys of the wine cellar?

Pet. No, I hain't.

Op. Who has, then?

Pet. Jack has 'em.

Op. Where is Jack?

Pet. Under the table.

Op. Under the table, is he?

Pet. Yes, he is.

Op. (Looks under the table, lifting the cloth.) Jack, holloa there!

Jack. (Under the table, in a gruff voice.) What do you want?

Op. I would like to come in.

Jack. Well, why don't you come in?

Op. Have you the keys of the wine-cellar?

Jack. No, I haven't.

Op. (Goes to box.) Jack says he has not the keys.

Pet. Well, I have n't 'em.

Op. (Goes to the table.) Well, Jack, have you any good champagne?

Jack. Yes; here, hold your glass. (Imitates popping the cork from a bottle.)

Op. Well, that is nice; have you any more?

Jack. Oh, yes; hold your glass. (Pops another.)

Op. Well, good-night.

Jack. Good-night! come again when you can't stay so long.
Op. (Again to box.) Peter, the ladies do wish to see you.
Pet. No they don't.

Op. Well, what is the reason you are not coming out?
Pet. I haven't got on my boots yet.

Op. I'll wait a moment. (Pauses.) Have you put on your boots?

Pet. Yes, I have on my boots.

Op. Well, what is the reason you are not coming out?

Pet. I haven't put on my stocki gs yet.

Op. Ha! ha ha! Why, I generally put on mine first.

Pet. Well, I don't.

Op. Why, how do you put them on?

Pet. Over my boots, of course.

Op. Come, Peter, now open this door.

Pet. I won't; no, no; go 'long off.

Op. If you don't let me in, I'll catch one of your chickens, and put him in there.