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gan and Indiana than in any other southern State except Louisiana. While the present state of things can be maintained, no probable annual addition to the country by emigration will affect the laboring classes unfavorably.

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to 281 millions; the wheat from 77 to 100 million bushels, and the maize from 400 to 600 millions. The potato alone, blasted by disease, sank in production. Thirteen thousand miles of constructed railway, and as much more in progress, all built by emigrants' hands, are opening up rich, but before unsaleable, lands of the West, bringing their cheaply produced bread stuffs and choked-up mineral wealth to Eastern markets. Of cottons the Americans now manufacture three times more in value than they import, and the export of their own manufactures is twofifths of the foreign importation; and their woollen manufactures exceed the imports of similar articles as three to one. In all articles of clothing, in carriages, furniture, materials for house decoration, books, paper, iron utensils, agricultural implements, hand tools, they are substantially independent of all other countries, and in the coarser cottons they are not only independent, but have become exporters to compete with British fabrics in South America, Africa, and Central Asia. There can be little doubt that they will advance to the manufacture of more delicate fabrics. The country is full of skilful designers from the Continent, who will not fail to impress their taste upon the national productions, and give them a currency throughout the world. Side by side with this, the mineral wealth of the country will be developed. California had yielded 50 millions sterling by the close of 1852. Other mining interests had been less prosperous. But the high prices of iron and coal are opening the

It is plain also, that if the emigration continues as at present, it will soon give the North a greater preponderance in the nation; but we do not regard that as a source of future weakness, rather of strength. There is no sympathy between the foreign labor and the slave labor to make the North and South immediately antagonistic. On the contrary, the emigrant seems to have an inherent antipathy to the black, and allies himself as soon as he becomes a citizen to the political party supposed to have Southern tendencies. The past shows that the dangers to the American Union have come, and are to come, not from Northern but from Southern increase. The Missouri contest grew out of Southern annexation, and the supposed dangers in 1850 had their origin in the desire of the South to impose slavery upon the free soil of California. The North has never required political stimulus to aid its growth, nor has its advance been marked by accessions of territory. It is the slave power which took to itself Florida, Louisiana, and Texas, which grasped after California and New Mexico, and which now wants Cuba. A gradual and peaceable increase in the industry, wealth and population of the North, which shall give to it at length, without annexation or war, an incontestable preponderance in the Union, will be submitted to by South, with scarcely a conscious-Pennsylvanian furnaces; and emigration, faness that it has taken place, and will perhaps check the thirst for acquisition, which, if unrestrained at home and unopposed abroad, may sow serious dissensions, and threaten the existence of the Republic.

Under the stimulating influence of this cause, the industry and resources of the United States have made an almost fabulous advancement. We had purposed to show its effect upon the principal branches of the national wealth, but are prevented by the unexpected length to which the subject has carried us. The tonnage of the country increased in the ten years ending in 1852 from 2,000,000 to over 4,000,000, the imports from 100 millions of dollars to 213 millions, the customs from 18 millions to 45, (yielding the Federal Treasury an annual surplus of 15 or 20 millions.) The cotton crop increased in the ten years ending in 1850 from 800 to 1000 million pounds; the rice crop from 80 to 215 millions, and the sugar from 155

vored by joint-stock companies in New York and London, is finding its way to Lake Superior, where the pure copper lies in masses six feet in thickness, and weighing from sixty to seventy tons. These important results merit a more extended notice, and are full of suggestions for the future.

With such an unexampled growth in material prosperity, we are not surprised to see the conceit natural to the English race swell into a sometimes undue proportion in the transatlantic branch of the family, and make Jonathan foolishly long to thrust his fingers into all kinds of political pies. Within the half century he has removed nearly all the Indians from the east to the west of the Mississippi, planted them on the sources of the Arkansas and the southern branches of the Missouri, and provided them with schools,missionaries, fields, and money; marching beyond them, he has invaded the territories of the Sacs and Foxes, and pitched his camp in the

hunting-lands of the Sioux; the scouts of his forces have penetrated the fields of the Pottawatomies and the Kansas, and his army of emigrants, following in their track, has crossed to the Pacific, established itself there, and opened a constant communication between it and the Atlantic. He has brought his commercial marine to the second, and nearly to the first rank in the world; he has made his country the principal cotton and a permanent corn-growing state; he has covered it with a network of railways; he has founded a manufacturing power which begins to compete with the wealthy and skilful establishments of Europe; he has discovered boundless fields of coal and iron, of lead and copper, and has possessed himself of rich tracts of gold, which enable him to open and use them all; he has increased his family six-fold, and his annual income fifteen-fold, and finds few paupers on his estates except those sent in by less fortunate landlords; he has built houses and barns, and planted fat orchards and rich corn-fields for his family, and has founded schools and educated teachers for his children. What wonder that he feels a little pride and more conceit!

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by its directions. In this way the labors of Fremont, Stansbury, Wilkes, Owen, Maury, Foster, Andrews, and Sabine have been given to the world. The Smithsonian Institution, founded at Washington on the liberal bequest of an Englishman, is laying a broad foundation for future usefulness. The generosity of the late Mr. Astor gave to New York the most liberally endowed public library in the world, which in the course of half a dozen years has collected together nearly a hundred thousand volumes. An eminent American gentleman, connected with the first commercial house of Europe and the world,and universally respected for his intelligence and worth, has founded a similar institution in Boston. Another well-known American merchant in London has been equally liberal to his native town in Massachusetts. In all the markets of Europe the Americans are the great buyers of scarce books, by means of an agency maintained in London by the Smithsonian Institution and by private collectors, and directed by a gentleman who is always on the look-out to se"rarities" for his countrymen.

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It cannot be doubted that, versatile as they are, they will soon give the same attention These fruits, however, though great, are to Art which they now give to more solid entirely material; and if the energy of a free but less graceful matters. The incorporation and vigorous people is to end in money-get- into the community of so large an amount of ting and the worship of Mammon,--if a fe- emigration from continental cities, educated vered struggle in a business city is to be the in the arts of design, and contributing by the object of the young man's life, and the reputa-pencil and the chisel to the national love of tion of wealth their ambition,-if arts are not show, will hasten such a result. When, in to gild, letters soften, and the love of country no very distant day, the prairies of the Lake pursuits chasten social life,-better would it country and the Valley of the Mississippi shall be for them, when there are no more fields be peopled with fifty millions, gathered from to be subdued, and when unemployed hands all nations, but guided by the English race shall be stretched out for bread, that they and governed by English traditions; when the had never risen from the cradle of their poli- slopes of the Alleghanies and the Green tical infancy. In the rapidity of their devel- Mountains shall be covered with sheep, and opment, the Americans have had little time their valleys filled with the best-bred stock; for the elegant idleness of European society. when the plains of the South shall be entireEvery man's shoulder has been wanted at the ly devoted to the production of cotton, (let us wheel of the social car. But now wealth, hope without the curse of slavery ;) when the cultivation, travel, and the leisure afforded higher and more delicate branches of manuby emigrant labor, are producing higher refactures shall have taken root in Massachusults than mere material prosperity. The setts, and the mechanical arts found a firmer possessors of money are learning to love the stay in Pennsylvania; when the white man country and its healthy pursuits. Literature shall have driven the buffalo from the fields has become a profession, and authors are which each setting sun shadows with the well paid. Transatlantic sculptors have at peaks of the Rocky Mountains; when cities tained a European reputation, and efforts in shall fringe the Pacific, towns line the banks the kindred branch of the Fine Arts are favor- of the Oregon, and farms dot the surface of ably known. Architects flourish among them, California and the valley of the Willamette; and have plenty to do. The national Gov- when skill shall have subdued the mineral ernment gives a liberal though not always wealth of Lake Superior; when commerce judicious aid to scientific research, and pub- shall whiten every lake and ascend every lishes the results of expeditions undertaken river of the country, and shall carry its pro

ductions to every clime; when railroads shall, unite the Atlantic with the Pacific, and bring every part of this vast nation into close contact with every other; when opulence shall have given a home to Art in their cities, and Literature shall have created the traditions which they lack;-what a spectacle may

they not present to the world, if, despising the allurements of ambition, and disregarding the erroneous advice of interested leaders, they are content to reap the rewards of their peaceful industry, and to enjoy the blessings which Providence places within their reach!

TENNYSON.

TENNYSON is in his ninth edition, but there | can be no doubt that his becoming Laureate made it fashionable to buy his book by the aristocracy. Not that our aristocracy have much sympathy with "In Memoriam," nor its author with them. Apropos of this subject, a good story is told which I will repeat, hoping that it is new to you; if it is not, it will bear re-telling. Tennyson seldom goes out visiting he would much rather sit at home in the clouds of his tobacco smoke, talking poetry with some one like Coventry Patmore, Mr. Palgrave or Charles Kingsley. Some time ago he was ill, and the Queen, hearing of it, called upon her chosen Laureate and make kind inquiries respecting his health. This no sooner got noised abroad than the sycophants of the aristocracy, who do as she does as far as they can follow her, in great numbers imitated her example, and called to inquire about the health of the Laureate, leaving their cards in token of their interest and condescension. Tennyson, it is said, just put the precious cards into envelopes and returned them per post to their respective owners.

I have another capital story, which I believe is true, as I had it from a good source and if it isn't, it ought to be. Every one knows that Tennyson is somewhat of a solitary in his habits, and that he likes to sit darkling like the nightingale. He is our shyest bird of song. He is fond of staying about the country in out-of-the-way places, and delighting in odd and out-of-the-way characters. A friend of mine met him in this way on one occasion, and by an adroit management of conversation got the great Alfred to roll out gloriously on the subjects of John Milton, his poetry, and the poetry of Pope, Campbell, and others. But to the

story: There is a clergyman at Bishop wearmouth, who has formed a small workingman's or boy's college, in which he educates the children of peasants-I think for the ministry. One or two autumns since, he had a sum of money placed in his hands in order that he might give the boys a holiday-treat. They went into the Highlands of Scotland, and one night they stopped belated at a lone inn, determined to put up with any inconvenience rather than push on any further that night. The landlord informed the clergyman that all his beds were occupied, and that he had only one room where they could lie down, and that had one person in it already, and he had occupied the sofa for the night. They accepted the room, and laid down as they best could. Before the boys went to sleep, they held a lengthy and spirited conversation on the subject of Tennyson's poetry, and the question, was he a great poet? They decided that he was, in a large majority, and dropped asleep. In the morning, as they were about to leave, the gentleman who had occupied the sofa, and who rose up tall, dark, broad-chested, with pale, spiritual face, and Hebrew-looking hair, called the clergyman aside and expressed his great interest in the young critics and their conversation of the over-night, which he had overheard, placing a card in his hand on which was written: "Alfred Tennyson." Tennyson's poems have been translated into French, and that wretchedly. But here is a volume of "Gedichte von Alfred Tennyson," translated by Herr W. Hertsberg, who has preserved the metres and melodies of the original. It must be a difficult thing to translate Tennyson. But the Germans are the very best translators in the world.

From Eliza Cook's Journal.

THE QUADRILLE PLAYER.

"AND you do not know any man who will not age, had implanted there; and as he come on more moderate terms?" said a fash-glanced from time to time at the patient ionably-dressed lady to a music-seller, a few mornings since.

"I assure you," replied he, "the price is exceedingly low. He is an excellent violinplayer, and knows his business well. Quadrilles, waltzes, and any thing else you may require, he will execute perfectly to your satisfaction."

"Mind, I may want him to remain rather late," said the lady.

"Any time you please," replied the musicseller. "He is accustomed to late hours; and we have never known him to grumble. He's a very industrious man, with a sick daughter to support entirely by his exertions."

"Humph!" said the lady. "Can he play Scotch reels?"

"Capitally," replied the music-seller.

near him, it might be seen that his eyes were red, and that his grief, though subdued, was intense. Yet he held a violin to his shoulder, and, in the midst of this scene of misery, was playing lively quadrilles and Scotch reels.

The invalid was his daughter. Having received a good education, she had for some time supported herself by teaching the pianoforte: but ladies and gentlemen, somehow, will insist upon getting a thing done as cheaply as they can; and the spirit of competition being rather briskly kept up in this line, it happened that, one by one, her pupils had dropped off. The daughter of a rich grocer in the neighborhood had clung to her to the last; but the feeling of the age was too strong to be fought against. She was taken away, and given to the reduced widow of an officer in the army, who undertook her edu

"And you are sure that he will bring a cation at five shillings a quarter less. Thus good harpist with him?" said the lady.

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"You may rely upon his being punctual," said the music-seller. He politely held the door open, and the lady tripped out, apparent ly satisfied with her bargain.

In the attic of a lodging-house, situated in a narrow turning leading from Drury Lane, was seated, that evening, an elderly man, by the side of an almost expiring fire. A small lamp glimmered on the table, casting sufficient light over the apartment to illumine the pallid face of a young girl, who was reclining on a mattress near the fire, supported by pillows. Every thing in the room betokened abject poverty. The countenance of the man was ruled with lines which misery, and

her only hope was gone; and she was about to seek a situation as governess, when her health failed her, and she was thrown on a bed of sickness. Want of air, exercise, and society, are bad aids to the recovery of an invalid; and the seeds of consumption having been too surely sown, doctors could afford her but temporary relief.

The small clock on the mantel-shelf struck seven, and the man arose, placed his violin in the case, took his hat from a peg, and approached the side of the patient. He feared to awaken her, lest the sudden shock should prove too much. He had that morning received a summons from the music-seller, to whom the reader has been already introduced, and as it was the first engagement he had been enabled to procure for the last month, he had accepted it joyfully, although, in his heart, he scarcely dared to leave his invalid daughter even for an hour.

Putting out the lamp, and stealing with noiseless steps from the apartment, he tapped at his landlady's door, and urgently requested that she would go and sit with the patient during the time he was compelled to be ab

sent.

This she immediately consented to; and our poor musician, with a heavy heart, left the house, and proceeded towards that of his patroness for the evening.

The windows were one blaze of light-carriages were drawing up to the door-and the street was in a continued state of excitement-when the quadrille player, with his violin-case in his hand, knocked modestly at the door, and passed almost unnoticed into the drawing-room, where he was met by the harpist, who had arrived about three minutes before him. Many of the guests were already assembled; and the pretty daughter of the hostess, tripping up to the "musicians," by the desire of her mother, requested that they would instantly begin. The quadrille was arranged, and, the signal being given, the poor violinist mechanically drew his bow across the strings, and, with a heavy heart, commenced the "Danois" set.

Happiness beamed on every countenance near him. The little coquette who had been the first to speak a kind word to him, was the observed of all observers, and in a few minutes was entangled in a labyrinth of engagements. Almost unconsciously, the eye of the violinist followed her steps throughout the evening. He fancied that in her he could recognize the features of his daughter; and he felt that she might also have been thus surrounded by friends and admirers, had she not been compelled to earn her subsistence by her individual exertions. Whilst our talents are cultivated as mere accomplishments, the most lavish praise is bestowed on. them once rely upon them as a means of living, and every effort is made to depreciate them.

Never had our violinist felt so completely alone as on this occasion. In his own room, miserable as it was, he could at least enjoy a sense of independence. Here, surrounded by pleasure, yet debarred from the slightest participation in it, his misery was increased by the contrast. He felt that it would have been a relief to him could he even have spoken to some one; but not one of the

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bright-eyed beauties who stood near him even deigned him a look. He was in the party, but not of it-solitary in the midst of society. He was to play until he was told to stop; and then to stop until he was told to play again. He was let out for a guinea. Slowly did the hours pass away. Two three o'clock in the morning came; but still had our violinist the instrument in his hand, and still did he continue to play inspiring dance-tunes. The thought of his poor invalid daughter became now almost insupportable; and when, at four o'clock, the last waltz was called, a feeling of joy took possession of him which it is impossible to describe.

At length all was over, and he was allowed to depart. Having received his fee, he placed his violin in the case, and threading his way through the throng of departing guests, walked anxiously towards his lodging. Arrived there, a tremor seized him which he knew not how to account for; and when he had ascended the staircase, and stood before the door of the room, he could scarcely summon sufficient courage to enter.

At length he recovered himself, and slowly lifting the latch, cautiously stole into the room. A candle, placed upon a small table near the bed-side, was flickering in the socket; and on a chair near the empty fire-place sat his landlady with her face buried in her hands. The noise occasioned by his entrance caused her to rise, and advancing to him, she motioned towards the bed. Mechanically he followed the direction of her hands, and walked gently to the side of the patient. Her countenance was placid, and a smile almost played upon her features. Not a trace of suffering was discernible, even to his anxious gaze-but she was dead. She had expired whilst the merry party was at the height of enjoyment; quietly, very quietly, said the good-hearted landlady, as if, indeed, she were merely falling asleep.

The guinea earned by the father for eight hours' performance of lively music, might, with strict economy, pay for his daughter's funeral.

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