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ir'ouu iRsr.
THE CHILD’S DREAM.
(From “The New Year’s Gift.”)
“0 mother! mother! such a dream as I
have had to-night,
Such fields, such flowers, such bright array,
and $uch a heavenly light;
Methought, as slumbering on my bed, a
mi<rhtv angel came,
His oy 09- w 'rc star?, Ins vest was gold, nis
wings were tipped with flame.
H' hung above me, mothov—yes, as erst
my father did,
B lore they bore him far away, beneath the
coffin lid;— ,
An 1 tender were the words he spoke, and
beauteous every flower
He bound around my burning brow, in
that enraptured hour.
0 mother! once methought his face look’d
like father dear,—
But then th" tears crept to my eyes that
were before so clear,—
*U;>, Lilias! up,’ he softly said; and far
away we flew,
By clouds, an 1 stars, and rosy bowers, all
silvered o’er with dew.
And up,and up, we went: and still the
Stars were every where
And mild and murmuring music roll’d a-
l.ong the balmv air:
And 01 I wist not of the change, so sudden
and so bright; i .
But moth 'r dear, I stood before a throne ol
burning light!
And angel forms, in thousands, stood in
robes of brilliant sheen,—
Sweet hvmns and songs ofioy they sung,
and struck their harps between:
And then me thought, that angel bright
lid beckon me away
To where there sat a little child, as lovely
as the day!
And moth»r—’! was our little one, for whom
you wept so murh!
1 ran to clasp him in my
not feel his touch:
H s cheeks were like the blooming rose,
his hair was silver bright;
His lips were rubies set in pearl, magni
ficently white!
H" said, ‘Why does my mother stay so long
away from m"?—
Here is my sire, and thou art here, but
where, oh 1 where is she?’
I turn’d to see my .father’s face: but he
had soar’d awa/:
My brother, too, was gone, and I—upon
my pillow lav.
Now, moth<»r, ponder well my dream—the
meaning tell to me;
And I will be a loving child, and tender
unto thee.”
*‘Alas,” the weeping mother said, “thy
dream I w-11 may know,—
All, all are gone, save thee alone; and now
thou too must go!”
And so it was! That gentle_ child pined,
sicken’d, droop’d, and died.
They laid her in her brother’s grave, her
lonely mother’s pride;
And oft the matron’s waking hours renew
that solemn theme, 1
And prayers are sigh’d, and tears are shea,
upon her infant’s dream,
arms, but could
WHO IS MY NEIGHBOR!
Thv neighbor? It is he whom thou
Hast power to aid and bless;
Wiiosc aching heart or burning brow,
Thy soothing hand may press.
Thv neighbor? ’tisthe fainting poor '
Whose eve with want is dim,
Whom hunger sends from door to door,—
Go thou, and succor him.
it is commonly thought: it is a duty
iVd o.ve to oiueis us well as to our*
selves; for bow unjust is it to distress
a person who merits no punish
ment!
vVithout good-breeding a court
would be the seat of violence and
desolation, i'here all Hie passions
are in fermentation, because all pur
sue wlial oat tew can obtain: there,
if enemies did not embrace, they
would stab; there smiles are often
pul on to conceal tears; there, mu
tual services are professed while mu
tual injuries are intended: and there,
the guile of the serpent simulates
the geulleuess of the dove. To what a
degree must good-breeding adorn the
beauty of truth, when it can thus sof*
teu the deformity of falsehood?
There are three stages of life; the
present, the past, and the future.
The present is momentary, the fu
ture dubious, the past certain. It
is lost to the busy, who have no time
to look back; and to the wicked, who
have no inclination. That man must
keep a strict watch over his actions
who proposes pleasure in reflection.
He who indulges the thrist of am
bition, the stubbornness of pride, the
savageness of conquest, the shame of
deceit, the misery of avari. e, and the
bitterness of prodigality; must forever
be an enemy to memory. The past,
no longer in the power of fortune, is,
to the virtuous only, a constant source
or enjoyment. What satisfaction in
looking back with approbation! what
uneasiness,in looking back with shame
and remorse! This, above every con
sideration, establishes tfye preference
of virtue, and sets it at an infinite dis
tance from vice. Let us consider
every good action as adding to a
stock that will support us for a life
time, in cheerfulness and good humor;
a stock that may be liberally used,
without diminution. Let us consider
every vicious action, as contracting a
debt beyond our power of paying, and
which, therefore, will distress us for
ever.
To place religion entirely on the
observance of rites and ceremonies,
is the very essence of superstition.
A wicked man cannot have any
true love or esteem for himself. The
sense of his depravity must disgust
him.
Light is not less favorable to merit,
than unfavorable to imposture.
None but the virtuous dare hope in
bad circumstances.
You have obliged a man: very
well! what would you have more!
Is not the consciousness of doing good
a sufficient reward?
Pleasures, unless wholly innocent,
never continue so long as the sting
they leave behind them
In a just account of profit and loss
an unlawful gain is a greater misfor-
tune than a real loss. This is but
once felt; that scarce evor wears out,
but is the source of continual afflic
tion.
Usurpers and tyrants generally do
justice upon themselves for the inju
ries they do others
ity in children. To whip at one min
ute, and caress, or let the culprit go
unpunished for the same crime at a-
nother, cannot fail to injure the force
of parental authority. Consider be
fore you threaten; and then be as good
as your word. “I will whip you, if
you don't mind me,” says the parent
m a passion. ’*1 am not afraid of it,”
says the child. The'parent flies to
wards it in a paroxism ol rage: the
child prefers flight to bioken bones.
’You may go now, but you shall have
your punishment with interest, next
time you do so.” “I don’t believe
that,” thinks the child. It is experi
ence that gives the parent the lie.
But,” says y^nR “whips and' rods
were the scourges *f the dark ages;
the present age is more enlighened: I dismissed, and the captain is about to
MILITIA SYSTEM*
From the Salem Courier.
Right about face! Cau this be the
way to mane soldiers? Right back
ward wneel! Where are the sol
diers (?) going? O, there they are.
What do do you call their position?—
In line. What? do you call that in
line? It wants untwisting. Shut
pan! What is that fellow about? he
has not any |)an to his gun. lie is go
ing through the motions: just as well
fire by company! (Pop! Phcuse!
Bang! Psuseece!) What a noise!
why! do you call that a good tire?
Very good—four guns went oiF—more
than has gone off at once for thiee
years. What is that officer looking so
grave for! the company is about to be
in it law is reason and authority is
mildness.”—Beware of that reason
which makes your child dogmatical,
and that mildness which makes him
obstinate.
There is such a thing as the rod of
reproof, and it is certain, that, in
numberless cases, arguments produce
a better effect than coporeal punish
ment. Let those be properly admon
ished, in case of disobedience: if in
effectual, try the harsher method.
Never begimto correct til! your anger
has subsided. Cease not till you have
subdued the will of the offender: if
ymi do, your authority is at an end.
Let your commands be reasonable.
Never deliver them in a passion, as if
they were already disobeyed; nor
with a timid distrustful one, as if you
suspected your own authority. Re
member that scolding is directly the
reverse of weighty reasoning. It is
the dying groans of good government.
Neither let it be heard under your
roof, unless you intend your house
shnuld be a nursery of faction, which
may at some future time, rear its hy
dra head, not only against you, but in
opposition to the parents and guardians
of our country. Patriotism as well
as charity, begings at home. Let the
voice ol concord be heard in your
family: it will charm your domestic
to love of order—British Mag.
GRUMBLING.
We are strongly tempted to begin
now, and read our subscribers a homi
ly once a month regularly, on the na
ture, cause, and effect of grumbling;
and continue our discourse until we
fairly choke them off—until we per
suade them to stop grumbling, or the
paper. What with our otvn exper
ience and that of numbers on the na
ture—we should perhaps be compell
ed to delve a little in philosophy to
search out the cause—the effect, if edi
tors possessed feelings in common with
the rest of the species, would be a
total banishment of all composure,
contentment, and complacency.
The truth is, an editor cannot step
without treading on somebody’s toes.
If he expresses his opinions fearlessly
and frankly, he is arrogant and pre-
If he states facts without
which before Rad continued bald, not*
withstanding the solution, became f
covered in common with the other part
of the head. This growth had a in n-h
more natural appearance then the for
mer one.”
CHINESE GASTRONOMY.
The French are far outdone by the
Chinese in the science of good eating.
With nothing more than a few beans,
the meal of rice and corn, and some
spices and herbs, the latter prepare a
variety of savoury dishes. Horse
flesh, rats and mice, are standard ar
ticles of food, and sold publicly at the
butchers’, a fact which reflects credit
on the taste and good sense of the
Chinese; for there are not more clean
ly animals than thftse existing. The
love of hog’s flesh, which they share
in common with the refined inhabitants
of Europe, we h^ve less to say for;
neither do we altogether approve of
dog eating, at least affor the animal*
has arrived at the age of foraging for
himself. Birds, nests are another nr--
tit le of food, hut neither mud sticks
enter into their composition. The
nests are found in'the rocks along the
coast of Tonquin, &c. and are built
by birds resembling the swallow.
They are constructed, as is supposed^
of a small species of sea fiisli, cement-\
ed by a glutinous matter exuding from
the bird itself, and when fully formed
resemble the rind of a large candied
citron. Bear’s paws form another
favorite dish. They are rolled in pep
per and nutmeg, and dried in the
FEMALE EDUCATION. 8,,n - When about to be dressed, thejr
Vocal music should never be neg- ar J; soaked in rice-water to make them
lected in the education of a young lady. and then boded | n tbe . ^ovyof a
Besides preparing her to join in that k,d > and seasoned wit^various spices,
part of public worship which consists
ii^ psalmody, it will enable her to
soothe the cares of domestic life: and
even the sorrows that will sometimes
intrude into her own bosom may all
be relieved by a song, where sound
and sentiment unite to act upon the
mind. 1 here introduce a fact which
has been suggested to me by my pro
fession, and that is, that the exercise
of the organs of the breast by .‘inging
contributes very much to defend them
from those diseases to which the
climate and other causes expose them.
The Germans are seldom afflicted
with consumptions, nor have I ever
known but one instance of spitting
blood among them. This, I believe,
is in part occasioned by the strength
which their lungs acquire by exerci
sing them frequently in vocal music,
for this constitutes an essential branch
of fheir education. The music mas
ter of our Academy has furnished me
with an observation still more in favor
of this opinion. He informed me
that he had known several instances
of persons who were strongly disposed
to the consumption, who were re
stored to health by the exercise of
their lungs in singing.—Dr. Rush.
address the soldiers. Ah/ “Fellow
soldiers! Accept my thanks for the
discipline you have evinced, the sub
ordination you have exhibited, and for
the zeal you have shown. I have no
doubt but when your country calls for
your services, that you will acquit
yourselves as well on the field of bat
tle as you have on this beautiful parade
ground. You are dismissed!” What
a running! Pop! Pheuse! Bang! and
Psuseece again. Here is training!
How much more military the soldiers
walk. Yes! they have been training.
Such-are the effects of our Militia
System. It is as easy to distil water
from Areas to make the militia, under
the present regulations, good, well
disciplined, and effective soldiers
GROWTH OF HAIR.
The following important physilo-
Thv neighbor? *tis that weary man
Whose years are at their brim,
ID,it low with sickness, cares and pain,—
Go thou, and comfort him.
Thv neighbor? ’tisthe heart bereft.
Of every earthly gem;
W*. tow and orphan, helpless left,—
Go thou ana shelter them.
Thv neighbor?.yonder toiling slave,
Fettered in thought and limb,
Whose hopes are all beyond the grave,—
Go thou and ransom him;
Whene’er thou meet’st a human form
Less favored than thine own,
Remember *ti* thy neighbor worm,
Thy brother, or thy son.
Oh, pass not, pass not heedless by;
Perhaps thou canst redeem
Th" breaking heart from misery,—
Go, share tnv lot with him.
MISCELLANEOUS.
From K&im’s Art of Thinking.
EXHORTATIONS TO VIRTUE AND
DISSUASIVES FROM VICE.
The pleasure of parental fondness
make large amends for its anxie
ties.
A good-natured man lias the whole
world to be happy in. Whatever good
befalls his species, a worthy man ad
vanced, a modest man encouraged, the
indigent relieved, all those he looks
upon as remoter blessings to himself.
Providence makes him amends for
the narrowness of his fortune, by do
ing for him what he himself would do
in power and riches.
Civility is' not so slight a matter as
, sumptuous _____ „
Conscience per- comments, he dares not avow his sen- gical fact is furnished in the last vol-
he executioner timents. If he conscientiously refu- ume of the Medical Journal. “A man
nunishing their public crimes by pri-1 8 ® 8 1° advocate the.claims of an indi* | between twenty and thirty years of
vate*remorse, and by-tormenting them vidual to office, he is accused of per-
tvith never-ceasing fears and jealous- s°nal hostility. A jackanapes, who
measures off, words into verse as a
clerk does tape—by the yard—hand*
him a parcel of stuff that jingles like
The ungreateful rejoice but once
in the favors they receive; the grate
ful always. Compare their lives: the
one is tadi as a deceiver, and break
er of faith; the other cheerful and
open, pleased with the favor, more
pleased when he makes the return.
Though ingratitude may escape
courts of law, don’t think it escapes
punishment. What punishment cap
be more severe than public hatred,
and private? Stung with the consci
ousness of the sneaking vice, he dares
accept a benefit from none, dares be
stow it upon none, is pointed at by all,
or believes himself to be.
On Family Government.—In spite
of modern whims about liberality and
equality, the government of a family
must.be absolute; mild, not tyrannic
al. The laws of nature, and the
voice of reason have declared the de
pendence of a child on the parent—
The weakness of youth must be sup
ported, and the violence of youth re
pressed, by the hand of age and ex
perience. Parental tenderness is too
apt to degenerate into the parental
weakness. “If you please, child,”
and “will you deal,” are answered,
“No; I won't.” The reins of govern
ment should always be gently drawn
and not twitched like a curb bridle al
onetime & dangled loosely at another
Uniformity in parent produces unifoim
a handful of rusty nails and a gimbler,
and if the editor is not fool enough to
print the noncense—“stop my paper
—1 won’t patronize a man tnat’s no
better judge of poeiry.”, As if it was
tatronage to buy a paper at about one
lalf more thani so much waste paper
would cost. One murmurs because
his paper is too literary—another be
cause it is not literary enough. One
grumbles because the advertisements
engross to much of the room—another
complains that the paper is too large,
he can’t find time to read it all. One
wants a type so small that micros
cope would be indispensable in every
family—and another threatens to dis
continue unless the letters are half
an inch long—one old lady actually
offered an additional price for a paper
that should be printed with such types
as are used for handbills.
Every subscriber has a plan of his
own for conducting a journal, and the
labor of Sysiphus was recreation
when compared with that of an editor
who undertakes to please all.
But we are now pretty well har
dened; and what is beter, the threats
of discontinuance generally end in
talk; and what is still better, for
every one we do lose, we gain two.
Middletown Gaz.
between twenty and
age, of strong, and healthy constitu
tion, having a short, curly and coarse
hair, of a dark brown color, found
himself becoming bald. Numerons
and large bald spots appeared on the
head, and gradually increased until it
became perfectly bare, and as the
eye-lashes fell out, the roan had quite
a singular and disagreeable appear
ance.
When the bead was closely exam
ined, a short, white, and scattered
down, very similar to a slight degree
of mouldiness, was perceptible. At
first it was hoped that the hair would
grow again, but the sequel proved the
contrary.
After two years, Dr Radimacher
advised him to pour French brandy
upon sulphate of copper, & when ithad
remained a few days, to wash the bald
part once a day with the solution
In eight days the hair had began to
grow, and in four months it equalled
the original growth in quantity but
was of a lighter color, crisp, dry and
stiff, and had not a natural appearance
A spot still remained bald on the back
of the head. The eye-bfows and lash
es grew again like the rest of the hair,
A year after this, the man shed his
hair again, but the eve-brows and
lashes remained. Dr. ft. wished him
now to wait a while, to ascertain
whether the hair would or would not
grow again spontaneously, but the
patient would not, and had recourse
to the solution, which produced anoth
er growth of light hair, and the spot
London Weekly Review.
RAPID DISORGANIZATION OF THE HV-'
MAN BODY.
From the Medical Repository.
On the night of the 16th of March,
1802, in one of the towns of the State
of Massachuse ts, the body of on el-
derly woman evaporated and disap
peared, from some internal and un-;
known cause, in the duration of about
one hour and an'half. Part of the'
family had gone to bed, and the rest
were abroad. The old woman re
mained awake to take care of the ’
house. By and by one of the grand
children came home, and discovered
the floor near the hearth to be on fire.
An alarm whs made, a light brought^
and means taken to extinguish it.
While these things were doing, some
singular appearances were observed
on the hearth and- the contiguous
floor. There was a sort of greasy
soot and ashes, with remains of a hu- •
man body, and an unusual smell in the
room. All the clothes were consum
ed; and the grandmother was missing..
It was at flrst supposed she had, in
attempting to light her pipe of tobac-i
co, fallen into the hire, and been-
burned to death. But on considering
how small the Are was, and that so
total a consumption could scarcely;
have happened if there had been ten
times as much, there is more reason
to conclude that .this is another case of y
that spontaneous decomposition of the
human body, of which there are sev->
eral ins ances on record. It is to be
regretted the particulars have not beet)
more carefully noted.
A BOLD RELIANCE.
In Mr. Fax’s frolicsome days, i
tradesman, who held his bill for two
hundred pounds, called for payment.
Charles said he could not then dis
charge it. “How can that be,” • said
the creditor; “you have just now lying
before you bank notes to a large a*
mount.” “Those,” replied Mr. FoX*
“are for paying my debts of honor.”
The tradesman immediately threw hie
bill into the fire. “Now, sir,” said
he, “mine is a debt of honor, which I
cannot now oblige you to pay.”-—
Charles, much to honor, instantly paid
him his full demand.
•*»*;'
> &
A MIRROR FOR VANITY.
Queen Elizabeth, admiring the ele
gance of the Marquis de Villa de Me
dina, a Spanish Nobleman, compli
mented him on it. begging at the same
time to know who possessed the heart
of so accomplished a cayilier? “Mad
am,” said he, “a lover risks too much
ou such an occasion, but your Majes
ty’s will is a law. Excuse me, how
ever, if I fear to name her, but re
quest your Majesty’s Acceptance of
her portrait.” Ho sent her a looking'
glass* i‘