ch heightens the analogy of the case; for
how

'Sweet to be passive in His hand,
And know no will but HIS!'

* * * * *

DOES 'M.' well to be angry? We 'referred publicly' to his query touching
our choice of prose or poetry, _at his own request_, in a playful, but
certainly not in an intentionally 'offensive' manner. And now, a 'good
that was intended us' is clean gone forever! Very well--we must submit,
with what grace we may.' 'My 'spected bredren,' said a venerable colored
clergyman, on a recent occasion, 'blessed am dat man dat 'spects noth'n,
'cause he an't gwine to be disapp'inted!' We solace ourselves with this
scrap of Ethiopian philosophy. . . . The experiments alluded to below, in
the happiest vein of the amusing 'Charcoal-Sketcher' of Philadelphia, have
been frequently tried in this city, we understand, but with very
infrequent success. Pulling teeth while the patient is asleep is not
'practised to a very great extent in _this_ community;' for no sooner is
the glittering instrument of torture 'placed in communication' with the
jaw, than it is found to 'disturb the Mesmeric function' to an
extraordinary degree:

'MANY who would be valiant in battle, turn pale at sight of the
dentist's chair. To stand up to be shot at in a duel is unpleasant
to the nerves, and to storm a breach requires a considerable
modicum of determination; but to pull the dentist's bell and not
to run away; to walk boldly in and not to request a postponement,
though it gains one no laurels and probably would not help to
secure a political nomination on the score of heroism, is pure
unadulterated valor; intrinsic--deriving no aid from association
or example; nothing from the instinct of discipline or the thirst
for glory. In encountering other dangers, there is a large hope,
too, of impunity. An expectation of survival, a fond trust to be
with the unhurt, always exists. But here, in that morocco throne,
so grotesque, so mystical, so strange in all its aspects; your
mouth wide open and your head thrown back--what hope can there be?
To be hurt is an inevitable thing. We are in the clutches of a
fate, and must realize our mortal frailty. To march to this with a
whistle; neither to kick the smaller dogs on our route, nor to
thrust little children aside spitefully; to take our usual
interest in the occurrences of the stre