"Should his mother ever have the temerity to scold him, he calls her 'No gentleman.'"

This is a great country, my friends,-it grows with its growth, and the undergrowth groweth with marvellous rapidity. Heaven only knows what we shall arrive at in the end; but I sincerely hope, and venture to trust, that we shall all reach heaven at last. So mote it be!

A SHORT SERMON PREACHED TO A SHORT PEOPLE.

grass

WIND-WHISTLE ISLANDERS! You vile undergrowth of the human forest; you dwarfish, stunted, frost-frightened samples of primitive humanity! why do you not contrive to grow taller, physically, mentally, and morally? You hold your heads high, and imagine that they are as near heaven as mine; but it is no such thing-you fall short of me by a foot and a half, standing in my stockings and wig off; and as for your religious ideas, they were never known to do more than to put forth a few sickly sprouts and die. This is all owing, my dear heathen, to your abominable, self-willed ignorance, which I suppose you will do your best to maintain for ever. At present you seem determined to know nothing, and I'm afraid I haven't sufficient power and plug tobacco about me to sway you from such a sinful determination. If I speak to you of better lands than your own dreary, desolate, rocky, storm-tattered island, you нOO-HOO at me, as much as to say "No you don't, we are not made of !" But let me tell you of a wonderful truth. Away down in the south, where the sun goes to warm himself in winter, (who said HOO?) is. a great country called California; a land abounding in gold, rum and plug tobacco. The rocks, as big as yours, are all solid goldso solid that, as yet, they never have been broken to afford sordid ambition a piece as big as your little toe-nail; but they will be soon, and perhaps more immediately. The trees, whose waving tops tickle the cheeks of the moon, and keep the stars for ever winking, are perpetually foliaged with leaves of silver, and ever hang with golden apples, averaging in size from a small fist up to a big baby's head. But mind, you Wind-whistlers, all these temptations exist only at the tops of the trees, and in the heated imaginations of enthusiasts -wholly beyond the reach of mortal man. Down in the valleys, though, there is more gold, mixed with tobacco, than would bury your whole island to the depth of half a mile, and sink your souls even deeper in the mire of depravity than they are now. There they have machines, propelled by everlasting perpetual power, to separate the pure from the impure-the clean from the unclean-the chaff from the wheat-the righteous from the unrighteous. Bushels of unseemly rubbish are poured into the top of the machine, while from the bottom eternally gush two vast, magnificent, heavenly streams: the one of pure, unmarried, virgin gold-the other of beautiful, blueblack, sweet-scented plug tobacco. Then, O, Wind-Whistlers! just imagine that this auriferous and narcotic California is also a spiritual land of promise! Yes, there all the rivers run fourth-proof Santa Cruz rum over beds of brown sugar, and every mudhole is a mon

strous basin of molasses. Now will you speed on the wings of the wind, or on your fast trotters either, to this blessed land? I feel assured that you will; for if gold, rum and tobacco wont entice a heathen, as well as a Christian, then the world is not now as it was in the days of "Moses and the profits." Hoo-HOO! you grunt most unanimously. Well, stay where you are, then; delight in your own destitution, and make merry with your own misery. While I send round my hat to receive your shells and trinks, let us all sing after a fashion:

When thirst for gold enslaves the mind,

And selfish views alone bear sway,
Man leaves his wife and babe behind,
And hies to Ca-li-for-ni-a.

Brethren Wind-whistle Islanders! since your affections have taken such deep root here in the cracks of the rocks that I can't pull them up without danger of bursting something, permit me to throw a small handful of advisatory salt among you. There are spots upon your cold, hard-looking island tenderly susceptible of cultivation. These you must cultivate. Plant potatoes, corn and beans-beans especially; and as these spring up and flourish, they will give premonitory evidence of your being upon the right track to civilization. Only know beans, and you increase in wisdom, bodily strength and gumption: they add much to the corporeal weight, and cubits to the stature of the mind. Beans work wonders. Raise them, and you will raise yourselves in time to a level with the enlightened nations of the earth; but I can't promise you any more real happiness than you now possess. So mote it be!

A spunky sermon against anger winds up

:

My hearers let us see what Anger is like. It is like, says our text, a red (full, I think, is the word though) hot horse, who, having the liberty to go-a-head at whatever stride he pleases, soon gets short of wind, and tired with the weight of his own mettle.

It is like a little narrow brook that rises with a sudden shower, makes a great bluster and bubbling, and then falls back again, with almost as much haste as it jumped it. Then the softer, more sensible, and more respectable thoughts flow in-sorrow and shame are seen floating upon the surface-and placid love at last returns to her happy home.

It is like-if you could suppose such a thing-a blank dictionary. It wants words at first; but, when it gets them, it seems as though the whole of Webster, and a good slice of Walker, had been chewed up to be spit out for the occasion.

It is like a bunch of burning brushwood; the more you stir it up with a long pole, the fiercer rage the flames. Let it alone, and it will all soon end in smoke.

It is like a glass of seidlitz-all foam and fury for a moment, and

then settles down to a dead, flat calm-a calm as defunct and insipid as a glass of beer that has stood overnight.

In short, friends, it is like a quick-tempered woman when her dander is up. She knocks things about at first cost-breaks broomsticks-upsets the cradle-creates a panic among the pots and kettles -and threatens to annihilate annihilation itself. Don't touch her, -keep away from her-let her alone, and in five minutes the storm will be over, and she as good as pie again. If you are not fond of pie, suppose I say pudd'n.

My dear friends: always let Anger have its way. When you arouse it, never attempt to kill it, but leave it to die a natural death. Its very life depends upon constant molestation. When I speak of allowing the monster the largest liberties, I have no reference to the anger born in your own bosoms. On such put a strong halter, and fasten tight to the post of reason. Whip the animal till he yields to the will of his master, and becomes as gentle as a lamb ; and then look out for the future that he doesn't wax fat and kick, like Jerusha of olden times. As for me, I never allow myself to be pumped into a passion in a moment, nor to be angry while any one else is exercising the prerogative; and I sincerely trust, my friends, that you are each as good-natured a fool as your humble preacher. So mote it be!

We now select a specimen of the versification:

My friends! there's been trouble In the cup of

All over the world,
Since out of the garden
Our parents were hurled:
Then Sin hatched a nestful
Of troubles, and they
Have hatched out a million
To bite us to-day.
Wherever we wander,

We are sure, as we go,
To be scratched by the thistles
And briars of woe:
In the meadows are posies
That sweet pleasure bring you;
But keep out the grass, or
A serpent may sting you.
The smiles of fond Fancy
Prove horrible grins,
And our cushions of comfort
Are stuck full of pins;

gay pleasure
Are aloes and gall,
Wormwood and cockroaches-
I can't tell what all.
The weather's 'most always,
Too hot or too cold;
Our children are either
Too shy or too bold;
Plums, peaches, and cherries,
Are pestered with stones ;-
No fun eating shad, on

Account of the bones.

The favoured of Fortune

From want are secure;
Though rich as old Dives,

In peace are as poor;
They've troubles to tease them,
They find no repose—
They've cares on their shoulders,
And corns on their toes.