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POETUTT the two homes. BY MRS.. HBMANS. 0',i! ifth’ son! immortal l)**, Is no! its love immortal too? Sr*est i'iou inv horn* - ? ’Tis where yon woo Is are waving t In their dark richness to the ®unny air, Where von hhie stream a thousand tlower- han'es laving, . Leads down the hilts a vein of light—’tis there! Mi l th-so g-ecn haunts, how many aspring lies gleam-ng, Fringed wlh the violet, colored with the skie«, My boyhood’ haunt, ‘hrough days or sum mer dreaming. XJnJcr voung leases that shook with melo- dies, My horn !—the spirit of its love is breath ing , In every wind that plays across my track, From its white halls the very tendril- wreath'ng Seem with soft links to draw the wanderer tak; There am I loved—there prayed for—there mv mother Sits by the hearth with meekly thoughtful pyc, There my young sisters watch to greet their brother; Soon their glad footsteps down the path will fly! There, in sweet strains of kindred music • blending, , , All the home voices meet at day’s decline; One are those tones, as fiom one heart as cending— There laughs my home: Sad strangerJ. where is thine ? Ask thou of mine?—In solemn peace ’tis lying, Far o’er the deserts and the tombs awar; ’Tis where 1 too am loved, with love undy ing, , , And fond hearts wait my step—but where are they ? Ask where the earth’s departed have their dwellings, Ask of the cloud the stars, the trackless I know it not—yet trust the whisper telling My lonely heart, that love unchanged is there. And what is home, and where, but with the loving? Happy thou art, that so can’st gaze on thine l My spirit feels, but in its weary roving, That with the dead, where’er they be, is mine. Go to thy home, rejoicing son and brother! Bear in fresh gladness to the household scene! For me, too, watch the sister and the moth er, 1 will believe—but dark seas roll between. IHTBMPERANCE. From the National Intelligencer. TO TIIE EDITORS. A Few Facts.—When a man takes a glass of anlwnt spirits anil puts it to liis lips, or invites his friends so to do, that they may drink mutual health, let him think of his reputation, his family, his business—Let him think of his debts, of a jail, a poor house.— Let him even think of the penitentia ry. One of these last mentioned places I recently visited—the poor house in Washington. After making some inquires, which were very kind ly answ’ored by the worthy Intendant, 1 came to the conclusion that drink ing and poverty are pretty nearly allied; that the poor house was indebt ed in its existence and continuance, mainly to the unchecked and licensed Bale of ardent spirits; and that, un less some energetic measures are a- dooted to arrest the evil, it will not ouly continue, but wax worse and worse. It will triumph over the peace, order, and prosperity of the community. It will open many an early grave, leave many a bereft wid ow with her hungry children to he c 'st on the uncertain mercy of a cold and unfeeling world. There is a double taxation in the case to sup- 't intemperance. 1. Thousands of lars are paid by those who drink.— j. Other thousands are paid fur the • ipport of the drunkards, after they iave drank themselves into beggary anil disease. Then there is a vast a- mount of time, (“Time is money,” saLl Franklin,) which is lost. The time of tip; lers at taverns and other places to which drinking naturally leads them—the- time spent at the poor house or elsewhere, after the body is disabled by disease—the time of at tending physicians, who get nothing from those who drank themselves out of money into disease—the time of those valuable citizens who are of ficially charged with kind sorvices to them—thn time spent in rectifying mistakes committed by di inking men, in settling criminal cases at law, and in jails Sic. and Various other losses of time, consequent on drinking, would in ten yon is amount to an euoi mens sum • Thirty men, taken into the poor house as the victims of intemperance, have been lately discharged, before they left, the number of those shelter ed there, A'ho were addicted to drun kenness constituted about threefourths of the whole! The number now at this refuge is about fifty. Of these, twenty two are decided cases of hab itual drunkenness. The first case which occurreJ to my observation : s a man fifty years of age, w hose limbs are in a shockingly diseased state, the result ofdrhiking. The Second is that of a man seven ty years old, with infinmatory sore eyes, one of these horrid signals which abused nature holds out in a- nolhcr form. The Third is a young man of thirty- two, with an ulcerated leg, and im paired constitution. The very biooin of his life seems to be blasted. Fourth case. A man of seventy— ruined—his thirst for liquor inordin ate. Fifth cast. Fifty years old; a crip ple. Ills constitution, originally strong, shattered by ardent spirits. Sixth case. Forty years old. in flammation of the lungs, &c. Seventh. Age thirty seven. This pian w>as an excellent carpenter. He is partially cured from insanity in duced by drinking distilled spirits. Eighth. Sixty years eld. Swol len limbs. A cripple. Ninth. Seventy three. Lame, from diseased leg. Has an inflamma tory cough. Tenth. Forty. Mentally derang ed. Very nervous. Eleventh. Forty five. Ulcerated limbs. This man is pronounced in curable. Naturally strong constitutions, and the exercise of labor, have kept some of these men along to a considerable age, but they form exceptions.— Drunkards generally die prematurely. The habitual use of ardent spirits weakens tbe powers of animal life— draws deeply on the native strength of the h uman constitution—creates a predisposition to disease: it violently concentrates into a few hours that ex citement which kind Nature intend ed should be nearly equally diffused through the whole existence. The happiness of these men is de stroyed, as well as their health.— Their minds are embittered by the paisop, their tempers soured. They all drank temperately once, and this is what they are brought to. If others would avoid the same end, let them en tirely abstain from, ardent spirits. GIVIS REIPUBL1C7E. XftXSOE&LANBQUS. CHINESE CHRONOLOGY. The Rev. W. II. Medhurst, a missionary of the London Socicly, who has paid much attention to the Chinese hieroglyphics, gives the following ac count of a work which lie has atcly prepared:— “The w'ork is a comparison be tween the Chinese syst em & our own, from the earliest period till the pre sent time. The page is divided into two parts, the top of which is occupied by a sketch of Chinese chronology, and the bottom by one of ours. The two systems or made exactly to cor respond together, year for year; and the similarity between them, particu larly in the earlier periods, is remark able. According to both systems, the first man had three sow or suc cessors. Notices of intercourse be tween celestial and terrestrial beings, or good and bad persons, occur at the same time; the accounts of the flood agree nearly to a year; ten fenerations of men seein to have passed away-be- tween the creation and the flood; and wine was discovered nearly at the same period. The. seves years of famine in Egypt have seven years of famine in China exactly corresponding; and Sampson’s strength has its coun terpart in China, where a strong man flourished nearly at the 6ame time, who was likewise deceived anil ruin ed by a w oman. If we add to these, the well-known tradition among the Chinese, of a sago who was to arise out of the west, and the Emperor Ming-te’s actually sending ambassa dors to search for him, about the pe riod of the Christian era, we shall find that all these circumstances exhibit a striking coincidence between their chronology and scripture facts, which seems to indicate that the former is boi rowed from the latter. In this work, I have not asserted that the events spoken of by eastern and west ern chronologisis, are the same; but 1 have placed them in connexion with each other in the same page, and at the same period, leaving the readers to form their own conclusions. I have been led to draw up Ibis work from the consideration of the practice of the Chinese, in boasting, so often as they do, of their high antiquity, look ing with contempt upon the appar ently modern dates of Europeans, and throwing out the hint that we have no records older than the Christian era. I have, therefore, endeavoured, by a regular exhibition of dates, and by the production of incidents connected with every remarkable period, to show them that we have a system of chrno- logy that can bt deponed on, more authentic and ancient than their own; that the world has stood so long as the period assigned to it by that chronolo gy; 'that Moses, by divine inspiration, gave an accurate account of the cre ation and of subsequent events, long before the Chinese had any writers of note and eminence; that those works which they had, wpre nearly all de stroyed about tlie time that tbe Pen- ta.teuch was translated into Greek; and that thus, while the authenticity of the one was more than doubled, tbe genuineness and very existence of the other was brought into the greatest doubt and uncertainty.” SENSATIONS BEFORE AND DU RING A BATTLE From Shipp’s Memoirs. I have heard some men say, that they would as soon fight as eat their breakfasts, and others, that they “dearly loved fighting.” If this were true, what blood-thirsty dogs must they he! But I should be almost il liberal enough to suspect these boast ers of not possessing ordinary courage. 1 will not, however, go so far as pos itively to assert this, but will content myself by asking these terrific soldiers to account why, s< ino hours previous ly to.storming a fort, or fighting a bat tle,' are men pensive, thoughtful, heavy, restless, weighed down with apparent solicitude and care? Why do men on these occasions more fer vently beseech the Divine protection and guidance to save them in the ap proaching conflict? Are not all these feelings the result of reflection, and of man’s regard for Ins dearest care— his life, which no moitnl will part with if he can avoid? There are pe riods in war which put man's courage to severe tests; if, for instance, ns was my case, I knew I was to lead a for lorn hope on the follow ing evening, in numerable ideas will rush in quick succession on the mind; such as “for aught my poor and narrow comprehen sion can tell, I may to-morrow he summoned before my Maker.”— “How have I spent the life he has been pleased to preserve to this peii- od? Can I meet that just tribunal?” A man, situated as 1 have supposed, who did not, even among the cannon’s roar and the din of war, experience anxieties approaching to what I have described, may, by possibility, have the courage of a lion, but he cannot possess the feelings of a man. In ac tion, man is quite another being, the softer feelings of the reused heart are absorbed in the vortex of danger, and the necessity for self-preservation give place to others more adapted to the occasion. In these moments, there is an in describable elation of spirits; the soul rises above its wonted serenity into a kind of phrenzied apathy to the scene before you, a heroism bordering on fe rocity; the nerves become tight and contracted; the eyes full and open, moving quickly in the sockets, with almost maniac wildness; the head is in constant motion; the nostrils extend ed wide, and the mouth apparently gasping. If an artist could truly de lineate the features of a soldier in a battle’s heat, and coinpare them with the lineaments of the same man in the peaceful calm of domestic life, they would be found to be two different portraits; but a sketch of this kind is not within the power of art: for, in action, the countenance varies with the battle; as the battle brightens, so does the countenance, as it. lowers, so the countenance becomes gloomy. I have known some men drink enor mous quantities of spirituous liquors when going into action to drive away little intruding thoughts, and to ere- I ate false spirits; but they are short- I lived, as the ephemera struggles but Ion a moment oil the chrystal stream, then dies. If a man has not natural courage, he may rest assured that li quor will deaden and destroy the lit tle he may possess. From the Providence evening Gazette. ECONOMY IN A FAMILY. There is nothing which goes so far towards placing young people beyond the reach of poverty, a« economy in the management of their domestic af fairs. It is as much impossible to get a ship across the Atlantic with half a dozen butts started, or as many bolt holes in her bottom. It matters not whether a man furnish little or much for his family, if there is a continual leakage in the kitchen, or in the par lour, it runs away, he knows not how, and that demoif, waste, cries more like horse leech’s daughter, untii he that provides has no more to give. It is the husband’s duty to bring into Hie house, and it is the duty of the wife to see that nothing goes wrongfully out of it, not the least article, however unimportant in itself, for it establishes a precedent; nor under any pretence, for it opens the door for ruin to stalk in, and he seldom leaves an opportuni ty unimproved. A man gets a wife to look after his affairs; to assist him in Ins journey through life; to educate and prepare his children foi\a proper station in life, and not to dissipate his property. The husband's interest should be the wife’s care, and her togreatest ambition should carry her no further than his welfare & happiness, gether with that of her children. This should be her sole aim; and the theatre of her exploits is in the bo som of her family, where she may do as much towards making a fortune as possibly can in the counting room or the workshop. It is not the money earn’d that makes a man wealthy; it is what is saved from his earnings. A good and prudent husband makes a deposit of the fruits of his labour with this friend; and if that friend he not true to him, what has he to hope; if he dare not place confidence in the companion of his bosom, where is he to place it. A wife acts not for her self only, but she is the agent of ma ny she loves, and she is hound to act for their good, and not for her own gratification. Her husband's good is the end at which she should aim, his approbation is her reward. Self-grat ification in dress, or indulgence in ap petite, or more company than his purse can well entertain, are equal ly pernicious. The first adds vanity to extravagance, the second fastens a doctor’s bill to a large butcher's ac count, and the latter brings intemper- ence, the worst of all evils in iU train. Ecauly.—It has been said by some, and if not said, it shall be said now. (hat no woman is incapable of inspir ing love, fixing affection, and making a man happy. Wc are fuither influ enced by outward loveliness than we imagine. Men speak with admiration, and write with rapture, of the beau* tv which the artest loves, which, like genius in the system of Gall, is as certained by scale and compass; but in practice, see how they despise those splendid theories, and yield to a sense of beauty and loveliness, of which the standard is in their own hearts. It is not the elegance of form, for that is often imperfect; it is not the loveliness of face, for there nature has perhaps been neglectful, nor is it in the charm of sentiment or sweet words, for even among women there is an occasional lack of that; neither is it in the depth their of feeling, nor in the sincerity of their affectioi^ that ■their whole power over man springs from. Yet every woman, beautiful or not, has that power more or less; and every man yields to its influence. r I he women of all nations are beau tiful. Female beauty, in the limited sense of the word, is that outward form and proportion which corresponds ’th the theories of poets and the ru les of artists—of which every nation •has examples, and of which every woman has a share. But beauty, by a more natural definition of the woid, is that Indiscrihahle charm, that union of many qualities of person, and mind, and heart, which insures to man the greatest portion of happiness. I have looked much on man, and more on woman. The world preseats a tistinct image of my own perception of beauty, and from the decisions of true love I could lay down the law of human affection, and the universal sense entertained respecting female loveliness. There is no need to be profound; there is no occasion for i e- search; look on wedded society, it is visible to all. There a man very plain is linked to a woman very love ly; a creature as silent as marble, to one eloquent, fluent and talkative; a very tall man to a very little woman; very portly lady to a man short, slender, and attenuated; "the brown weds black, and the white the golden; personal deformities are not in the way of effect ion, love contradicts all of our theories of loveliness, and hap piness has no more to do with beauty than a good crop of coin has with the personal looks of him who sowed the seed. EAST INDIA COMPANY. Among the papers published in England a few years ago, respecting the renewal of the East-India Compa ny’s charter, there was a concise his tory of this commercial body, from which we have taken the following sketch: “The stock is divided a'' mong about 2000 ladies and gentle men, who elect twenty-four direct ors, six of whom go out in annual ro r tation. These directors Have under- tlieir immediate employ, a body of book-keepers, clerks, and porters, so numerous that they have formed three complete regiments of volunteers.—• There arc, in the company’s service, 115 ships of different burthens, which arc navigated by about 10,000 sea men, and it is stated these vessels furnish employment to a population little short of 50,000, in London.— The amount of their commercial cap ital, is estimated at 2l,000,00(R.— Such is their home establishment.— In India, the Company have under its control, a territory of 380,000 s-juaie miles peopled by sixty millions &. yield ing an animal revenue of seventeen millions sterling, an army of one hun dred and fifty thousand men, and a numerous and splendid establishment of governors, judges, diplomatic rosi-- dents, merchants,” &c. PHRENOLOGY Mi\ Abernethy, in his late course of Lectures, made the following re marks on this science:—“With respect to the supposed possibility of ascer taining men’s dispositions and charac ters from the shape of their heads and faces, I will make one observa tion; that I have seen various skulls— here is one, for instance—in which you see several considerable elevations otj. the outside surface, without there being any corresponding depressions on the inside. I m-ed not tell you, i u", f e ^ iero * s no hollow in the , 8 * w -‘i inside, there could have been no enlargement of the brain; and this was an argument used against the phrenologists by J)r. Barlow. Now I don’t use it or any other argument a- itainst them: I don’t let my mind think of the subject at all. You may do as you like, but I don’t care about it; but as I said to Dr. Spurzhcim at the very outset, “Why Doctor,” said 1, “it may he all very true what you say; but I'll not enter into it; for I think it a very unhandsome thing, to judge a man’s motives and intentions by his outward appearance at all. Judge of a man by his actions; look to his conduct; see what that is, and you’ll not go astray in your opinions. Ah, there is a wise piece of advice, “Judge not, lest yourselves be judged;” and foy you to take it upon to infer the motives and disposition of any man, upon any less authority than the tenor of his actions, is a thing that I am sure you have no right to do.” WONDERFUL CHILDREN. The two children, Susan & DeboraU . who are now at the'Museum, are* the most wonderful beings ever seen in Albany, and exceeded by none, probably, in (he w'orld. The oldest is 5 years and 8 months old, and weighs 203 lbs. the other is 2 years and 10 months, and weighs 119 lbs.—They are active, and their gate resembles the rocking of a 14 in a storm. Their countenances indicates health, anil there is no reason to be given for their remarkable size. The sight of them strikes the spectator with the great est astonishment, for no one can pre viously conceive a proper idea of their appearance.—They were born in the town of Frcedom, Dutchess county.— daisy Adv. CHEROKEE CONS r f iTUTi0N, Printed in both lang uages in parallel columns, fur sale at tPis JficeO.