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poetry. From Blackwood’s Magazine, for April. THE INDIAN WITH HIS DEAD CHILD.* BV MUS. HEMAN8. Then the hunter turned away from that Where the home of his fathers once had been, And burning tlioutrh's (lash’d o’er his mind, ©f the white man’s faith and love unkind. Bryant. In the silence of the midnight, I journey with the dea 1; In the darkness of the forest boughs, A lonely path I tread. Sat me hea-t is high and fearless, . As by in glitv wings upborne; Tim mountain Eagle hath not plutnes So strong as love and scorn. 1 have raised thee from the grave sod, By th° white man’s path defiled; Oil to th’ ancestral wilderness I bear thy dust, my child! 1 have ask’d the ancient deserts To give my dead a place, Where the stately footsteps of the free Alone should leave a trace; And the rocking pines make answer— Go, bring us back th’ne own! And the streams from all the hunter’s hills, Rush’d with an echoing tone. • Thou shalt re«t by sounding waters, That yet untamed may roll; The. voices of those chainless ones With joy shall till thy soul. In the silence of the midnight, I journey with the dead; When 1 he arrows of my father’s bow Their falcon-flight have sped. I have left the spoilers’ dwellings For evermore behind; Unmingled with their household sounds, For me shall sweep the wind. Alone, amidst their hearth fires, I watchM my child’s decay; Uncheer’ I I saw the spirit light From his young eyes fade away. When his head sank on my bosom, When the death sleep o’er him fell, Was there one to say—“A friend is near!” There was none!—Pale race, farewell! To the forest, to the cedars, To the vvarriomand his how, Back, back! I bore thee laughing thentfe, —I bear thee slumbering now! I bear him unto burial, Where the mighty hunter’s gone; I shall bear thee in the forest breeze,— Thou wilt speak of joy, my son! Tn the silence of the midnight, I journey with the dead; But my heart is strong, my step is fleet, My father’s path I tread. * “A striking display of Indian character occurred some years ago, in a town in Maine. An Indian of the Kennebeck tribe, remarkable for his good conduct, received a grant of land from the state, and fixed him self in a new township, where a number of families were, settled. Though not ill treat ed, yet the common prejudice against In dians prevented any sympathy with him. This was shown on the death of his only child, when none of the people came near him. Shortly after he gave up his farm, dug up the body of his child, anil carried it with him two hundred miles through ihe forest, to join the Canadian Ind : ans.”— Tu dor’s Letters on the Eastern Stales of A- merica. a handsome person, depict too well the stains with which sin sullies the pure mind. Towards the afternoon of an ap pointed day, a numerous assemblage of persons being collected, the cere mony of separating this unfortunate young man from his kindred and front the people was performed. The leper, clad in a shroud, a- waited at the bottom of the stair.—— The clergy of his parish had come in in procession, and had conducted him to the church. An illuminated bier was prepared, in which the young man was placed, in a manner similar to that which dead bodies usually lie in state. Then masses for the de parted were sung, and the wonted be- sprinklings and incense offerings were made. lie was then led by the bridge of St. Ladle, without the totvii, to the small house which he was 10 occupy. On arriving at the door, over which was placed a little clock, surmounted by a cross, the leper before casting off his garment, threw himself on his knees. The curate who attended him then made an affecting discourse, exhorting him to patience, reminding him of the tribulation of Jesus Christ, pointing out to him, above his head, that heaven which was ready to re ceive bint, the abode, of the afflicted here, where there will be neither sickness nor leprosy, where all will be eternally pure and happy. After this address w r as concluded, fortunate young man threw off his dress, put on the habiliment of a lep er, and took his rattle (a toy similar to that which children use) to warn every one to fly at his approach.— Then the curate, with a loud voice, pronounced in these terms the prohi bit ions^ordered by the ritual. k l forbid thee to lake ofT this thy dress of a leper. l I forbid thee to walk bare-footed. ‘1 forbid thee to pass through by lanes or narrow' streets. I forbid thee to speak to any one wdio faces thee to the windward. 1 forbid thee to enter into any church, monastery, fair, market; or into any place where men shall be assembled. I forbid thee to drink, or to wash hands, either in a fountain, or in a riv er. I forbid thee to handle any article of merchandise, before thou hast pur chased it. I forbid thee to touch, or to give any thing to children. ‘1 forbid thee to live with any wo man except thy w ife. Then the priest gave him his hand to kiss, threw a shovel of earth upon his head, and closing the door, recom mended him to the prayers ol the as sisting clergy. All the bystanders then retired.’ MISCELLANEOUS, EXCOMMUNICATION OF A LEP ER. From Montcil’s History of the French. ‘Notwithstanding the inequality of their condition, the youthful daughter of a graduate of our university con sented to marry a son of a rich mer chant, and although the world cried shame, the marriage was completed; and proving at first happy, all objec tions were silenced. After some time had elapsed, the bloom of health which had once enlivened the countenance of the young man began, however, to fade. II,tit, irritation, and excoria tions proclaimed at length the ravages of that frightful disease which was brought from the country where our Saviour perished. ‘For a long time the relations of the poor youth endeavoured to blind themselves to his situation: but at last the symptoms of lepTosy became flo evident, that medical assistance was indispensable. The doctors de dared that the interference of the church could not be avoided. As the graduate holds the office of ad vocate to the convent, I could not for bear proffering up assistance to his family on this occasion. How over whelmed with compassion was I, beholding the condition of the young husband! His blooming cheeks and fair eye-brows were defaced by the scabia, tno ravages of which, upon BORROWING. Mr. Editor—The piece which re cently appeared in yuur paper signed A Lender,’ has done some good.— Several neighbors have since found things which thej( supposed lost, but which it now appears, were lent only a long time since. When I first read the article “A Lender,” I thought it was personal, and starting suddenly from my chair, Scoundrel!’ said 1, ‘who has been writing about me? I’ll go to the prin ter, and find out the author, and give him a severe castigation. I ll—I’ll Russell Jarvis him.” I caught my hat, and started to the printing office. My good woman ‘wondered what made the man act so’—it being one of her peculiar expressions on such occasions. On reaching the outer door I met one of neighbor Slack’s ruddy-faced ur chins. ‘M ster,’ said he, ‘here is your breaking-up hoe and hand-saw that fa ther borrowed of you last fall. Fa ther says you have been wiling at him in the newspapers about it.’ Benton my purpose of revenge, I hastened a- long, struck half dumb at what the boy said. I had not gone far before I saw Squire Stingy pass along with a wheelbarrow’.—My eye followed him. He ran it close up to a house and then cried out, ‘Here old Testy is your wheelbarrow. Take it and keep it to yourself and be-hanged to you; hut be careful you never get the printer to abuse me again.’—‘Thinks I to myself,’ it would perhaps be as well for me to haul in my jib and tack about and see how matters stood with me at home. I did so. Search was made. Manv things were found on my premises that did not belong to me. I scut Tabitha home with the borrowed books! Luna was off with Mr. Purblanc’s speca- cles that I borrowed four weeks ago at church to find the hymn. Rosa hastened away with madam Goodlive s sausage machine. John shouldered Mr. Farmwell s plough which had laid out all the winter. I carried back Parson Iloldforth’s Bible concordance, and neighbour Stonecutter’s crowbar and drills. As I was going on sweep ing my premises of these borrowed articles, the words ‘Alas, it was bor rowed!’ more than once rose to ray lips;' and conscience now for the first time awakened to the subject, urged me on so rapidly that 1 did not again think of tweaking the printer’s nose, or of flogging a Lender.’ I determin ed never to borrow but when it was absolutely necessary, and return the article when I have done using it.— Such, sir, is the succinct history, and the firm resolution, of one who has heretofore been negligent in duty. Jl Reformed Borrower. PETER SINGLE’S ESCAPE FROM MAT RIMONY. We are all subject to disappoint ments, says my aunt with a sigh.— True, we are, I answered; but surely you don't pretend to call mine a dis appointment?—What else, you block head? Why an escape, aunt, a won derful, a miraculous and delightful escape. Why these are strange words, Peter. No more strange than true, my good aunt; and every day’s the un->|, observation makes it more so. Ilovv so? Merely peeping, aunt. Peeping? Aye, peeping aunt—looking into the secrets of their hearts—the secrets and houses of those who are married, and I arn taught then the true bless ings of liberty. ’Tis a gift of heaven bestowed on man by bis divine Crea tor, and all animated beings, free from the thraldom of slavery, sing together for joy—for why—because they are free. Why Peter, you seem inspir ed. I am aunt, when speaking of lib erty. Then you don’t regard the loss of Dolly. Not a fig. Did you evei hear the reason of our .separation, aunt? No. Well, I will tell it to you; ’tis an excellent joke, 1 assure you. We were on our way to church for the awful crime of matrimony, trudging along the path leading to the Holy Pile, quite loving and affection ate; when all of a sudden Dolly looks up in my face and cries, Peter. Pe ter. What, Dolly? says I—Peter who is to make the fire after we are married?—You, of course, Dolly, I re plied—that you must be aware is female’s place—her duty. Mr. Sin gle, I tell you it is unmannerly, ungoti- tlemanlike, and it is unhusbandlike, too, to say I must make the fire; and do you think I will get up on a cold frosty monyng, while you arc sleep ing in bed. and make your fire, sir! Why, Dolly, my dear, this is strange conduct, and I went on to tell her that I would prepare the wood over night, and have every thing ready for her; and Dolly you know my business will call me out early. I don’t know, nor I don’t care, Mr. Single; make the fire I will not. You won’t make the fire, madam? No sir! Then Del ly hang me if I have you. Then, Mr. Single, hang me if I care. And so we parted. Yes on the spot—and I have ejoiced at the event ever since. I sign myself with great pleasure, PETER SINGLE. ridiculed. Me was! p06r, and no man lpved hun; he was scouted as unwor thy of notice. In his oetter days, the society of his family was courted; his childi’eti were pronounced the most in'- telligent and promising of the town, and all were proud ot their society, and considered themselves honored if they were noticed by the offspring of so intelligent and wealthy a merchant. But tlie moment this lather became a bankrupt, that moment were Ins children neglected; and those \vb° had partaken of their hospitality and enjoyed their favor, soon became their secret and inveterate foes. Lit. Cadet. Mr. Canning.—The most extraor dinary peculiarity of liis mind was that which enabled him to insult others, not only with safety, but without being suspected of incivility. Here lay bis management; here the address I spoke of. 1 have heard him say, in language that every body was delighted with, what, if it had been fairly translated into the English of our fathers in the days of Elizabeth, would have amount ed to nothing more nor less than a charge pf inconceivable stupidity amf presumption, against a member of Parliament who was bowing to him and to whom he was bowing at the time. The plain English of the whole was exactly this: My dear sir, you have been made a fool of; you have put a question which you had no busi ness to put, as you, if you had a thim ble full of brains, ought to know, and which it would have been highly im proper for any minister to answer; far be it from me, however, to suppose that the honorable gentleman knew W'hat he was saying, or the motive which actuated the party who have made a cat’s paw of him. Such was the true substance of what Mr. Can ning said to a member of the Opposi tion, who had troubled him with re peated inquiries about something he he had no business with. Yet such was the manner of saying all this, that the party, instead of jumping at the speak er’s throat, made a low bow across the table, looked up with a smile of triumph playing about his mouth, and rubbed bis bands together for a minute or more, as if a fragrant oil had been poured out over them.—Neal. pox, and the advancement of medic al science. It is also asceitaimd that the life of women is longer than that of men. The latter fact is ac counted for by the circumstance that women do not eat and drink to ex cess, as men do; and they are not compelled to encounter such hard ships, nor are they so much exposed to accidents. The shortening of' life on the aggregate, in Great Britain, is accounted for by the fact,- “that in' high life people are mofc luxurious find idle, and death carries Ihem off’ faster than formerly; arid in low life people .have lift so much to eat and drink, nor are they as well clothed, or warmed by fire and bed clothing at night.” t Tl.f> Freri'tivc Committee of the Ameri- Society, deeming it mi* can TcmperanC portant that a ^ Society, menced under tne pati, n „ a .K . . , n«.i I. nartieu.ar ol.i- FORTUNE. There is a family in this town, [a- ny town] with the members of which, however, we have riot the pleasure of an acquaintance, but whose history and fate we have carefully observed. The father, from small beginnings, by the exercise of unusual and perse vering industry, in early life, gained a fortune, and was ranked among flic most opulent and influential merchants of the tow n. At the Insurance Of fice, that noble seat of intellectual worth & “human greatness,” he stood in high estimation, and his opinions were received as law, and his max inis were gospel. No man in the community stood higher in the scale of est imation than he did, and on all occasions he was consulted with as much confidence as was the oracle^ of Delphi. But misfortunes came; his ships were destroyed on Ihe high seas; his warehouses were levelled by the flames, and, ere he was aware of it, he ivas a bankrupt. He had no sooner failed than he was looked upon in a widely different light, h was (hen discovered that he was not a man ol talents; his opinions were laughed at, and his maxims were Humble Scholar.—Very lately died, at Spalding, Lincolnshire, England, John Wilcox, shoemaker, aged G5, a man of strong niitid, vivid imagination, original ideas and eccentric habits.— He was a perlect Ilelluo Librortim, devoting nearly half his lime and much of his earnings to books, .although he depended entirely on bis bands for support. lie lived alone, and his house was filled with lumber, lasts, and literature, in mingled heaps. He read, studied, and digested the metaphysics of Locke, S.eward,. Read, Oswald, &c.; knew well the principles of nat ural and experimental philosophy, as tronomy, geography, general science, and music—was well read in ancient and modern history—a great admirer of all our best essayists, moralists and poets; and, as regards English litera ture, might be considered a living cat alogue of authors, editions, and prices. Adulation and flattery lie detested.— Of manners he knew nothing; was un couth in dress; and so remarkable shy, that he was never known to approach even an intimate acquaintance, unless in a circuitous, sidelong manner, and very rarely looked any one in the face, except obliquely. The Criminal Law of England is so severe, that court and jury arc very often glad tq let the prisoner escape upon technicalities, niceties, or quib bles. An instance of this is given in a London paper now before us, where it is stated that Henry llepburne was indicted for stealing a penknife. The article, when produced, appeared to be an instrument containing a pair of nail-scissors and a knife blade. Mr. Sergeant Arabin left it to the jury to say if this was a knife or not. The Jury said they did not know which to call it, a knife or a pair of scissors; and, therefore, giving the prisoner the benefit of the doubt, returned a ver dict of Not Guilty. Shtrtening of life, in England.—A report of considerable interest has been recently made to Parliament re specting the “Amt> of Mortality of the Government Life Annuitants,” from which it appears that the duration of human life is shorter than it was fifty or one hundred years since, notwith standing the introduction of the kine and for the promotion oi l t^ P ai jects, issue the following l>*pectub ot ar weekly Paper, entitled, THE JOURNAL OF HUMANITY, and Herald of ihe Amer. Temperance Soc. The Journal of Humanity is intended to be a vehicle ol intelligence respecting; all the Temperance Societies in our country. It will lay before the public the plans, and methods of operation, adopted by the Pa rent Society, and by others. It will con tain communications adapted to general u* tility, on the subject ol temperance, and Reviews ol well written books and pamph lets relative to the same subject. it will also | ay particular attention to ihe subject ofpauperism and oi prison discipline. In shut i, tins Journal will make the | nolle ac quainted w ith al. facts suitable fur publica tion, and adapted to promote the success of the cause of humanity. r l his Paper will not only oppose intem perance in the use ol' spirituous liquors, and in all its other lorms, I ut will aim to su|>- pressall kindred vices. As its title im ports, its object will be to advance the cause ol humanity, in the largest sense; to alleviate the sultmngs and woes ol man, and to promote his domestic, social, and civil welfare. It is proper to say explicitly, that neith er religious nor political controversy is any j art oi the object of this Paper. What ever religious principles are introduced, will he such as are diiectly adapted to pro mote Christian Morals, and such as will nieet the approbation ol all who tear God, and reverence the sacred Scriptures. '1 his Journal will coiitain sumn ary ac counts ol n .ere. ung events in the moral, religious, am. political world; and will notice whatever relates to improvements in useiui arts, especially in the education of children and jouth. Finally, it is the intention of the execu tive committee that Ihe Journal ofHuman- ity shall be enriched by the most mipoit- ant information which can be derived from foreign Journals ol various kinds, and in the different languages of Europe,—that in formation especially which relates to the cause of benevolence, humanity, letters, and civil society. Ami vvilfi special re ference to this department, it is the inten tion oi the Committee to add another Edi tor, as soon as the prospects of the Journal will justify the measurr.—It is hoped that, in this way, the Journal will ultimately secure a patronage widely extended, and extended among the reading and intelli gent classes of the community. The publication is not in any degree a matter ol personal interest or gain. The avails of it will be applied faithfully and exclusively to promote die benevolent ob ject of the Am. Temperance Society, as set forth in ;ts constitution. it would be a subject of sincere regret with those who are concerned in this pub lication, if it should interfere with the cir culation of any of the useful and excellent papers, already devoted to the cause of-- temperance and humanity. But a regard to the judgment and wishes ol wise and good men in different portions of our country, and to the paramount importance of ihe object of the Society, lias prevailed over all personal considerations. The Committee indulge the hope that the designs and arrangements mentioned above, will meet the approbation of the. community, and will be carried into epee , dy execution. If this country is to be saved from ruin, it is high time for thom who love its precious interests, to awake to vigorous, united, and persevering . ex ertion. A more particular dcvelopement of the plan and principles of the Journal will be given in the first Number. In behalf of the Executive Committee of the American Temperance Society, and, with their concurrence. EDW’D W. HOOKER, Editor, fy Associate Gen. Ag’*tt Andovf.r, March, 10, 1829. Conditions.—The Journal will he pub lished on Wednesday of eaoh week, at Andover, Mass., from the office of Flagg &. Gould, and in a style such as shall com mend itself to good taste; price $£2,00 year, in advance, i. e. if paid within two months; $3,00 if not paid till after the close of the year. IttlttSHAL’S SALE. W ILL be gold to the highest bidder, on the 17th July next, at New Echota, one negro man, named PETER, levied on as the property of Edward Hicks, to satisfy a bond given by said E. Hick* to the National Treasurer. JOSEPH LYNCH, Marshak June 24th, 1829, ^ frf$