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CHEROKEE PHOENIX AND INDIANS’ADVOCATE.
POETRY.
From
So-ietv
THE MISER.
Mr Sprague’s Poom, before tbe
of the
agu f < s i op in i oeioic me
• Pbi Beta Kappa, at Cani-
The churl, who bolds it heresy to
think, *
Who loves no music but the dollar
clink,'
Who laughs to scorn the wisdom of the
schools,
And deems the first poets first of fools,
Who never found what good from science
grew,
Save the grand truth, that one and one
are two,
And marvels Bowditch o’er a hook should
pore,
Unless to make these two turn into four;
Who, placed where Catskill’o forehead
greets the sky,
Grieves that such quarries all unhewn
should He;
Or, gazing where Niagara’s torrents
thrill,
Exclaims, 'A monstrous stream, to turn a
mil);’
Who loves to fool the blessed winds of
Heaven,
But as his freighted barks arc portward
driven:
Even he, across whose brain scarce dares
' to creep
Aught hut thrift’j parent pair—to get, to
keep,
Who never learned life’s real bliss to
know—
audiences. But while these discours
es arc primarily designed lor young
men, care has not been taken (hat this
class of hearers should be provided
lor in the occupancy of the church.
It is believed that last Sabbath
evening, one third, if not one lalf, of
the young men who came theye, did
not
that
cure
advanced age in 1760, and he died in
1768. The only account we have of
his early life is a letter which is to
he found prefixed to a French trans
lation, of one of his works, from his
contemporary, the Chevalier Ramsay,
who knew him. IIis father, Ramsay
j tells us. was a gardener to the Duke
walking one day in
a Latin copy of
lying on the
i6 young men who conic therft, dm , iciis us. was a garueut
at gain' admission at all; and of those | ®f Argylc, who, walk
lat did eutcr, few were able to sc- j his Garden, observed :
ure and retain seats. For, although Newton’s ‘Principia’ _ _
many obtained thorn at first, they ! grass*, and thinking it had been brought
were soon obliged' to leave them and from his own library, called some one
Go, seek him out on yon dear Gotham’s
walk,
Where tratlic’s venturers meet to trade
ami talk,
Where Mammon’s votaries bend, of each
degree.
The hard-eyed lender, and the pale len-
dee,
Where rogues insolvent strut in white?'
„ washed pride.
And shove the dupes who trusted them a
side.
How thro’ the buzzing crowd he threads
his way,
To catch the living rumors of the day;
To learn of changing stocks, of bargains
cross’d,
Of breaking merchants, and of cargoes
1°H;
The thousand ills that traffic’s walks in
vade,
And give the heart-ache to the sons of
t;ale.
How cold he hearkens to some bankrupt’s
wo,
Nods his wise head, and cries, “I told you
so;
r The thriftless fellow lived- beyond h:s
means,
“He must buy brants—1 make my fc*ks
eat beam.-;”
What cares he f >r the knave, the knave’s
sad wife,
The blighted prospects of an anxious fife?
The kindly throbs that other men con
trol,
Ne’er melt the iron of a miser’s soul;
Thro’ life’s dark road his sordid way he
wends,
An incarnation of fat dividends; ^
But when to death h' s nks, ungrievhi,
unsung,
Buoyd by the blessing of no mortal
tongue;
No worth rewarded and no want redress
ed,
To scatter fragrance round his place of
rest,
What shall the hallowed epitaph sup
ply—
The universal wo when good men dm!
Cold curiosity shah linger there,
To guess the wealth he leaves his tearless
heir
give place to ladies, who, together
with persons of middle, and even old
age, ultimately composed a large por
tion of the congregation, and thus the
young men were left to retire from
the church, or stand in the aisles.—
I would by no means, however, ap
probate impoliteness, either in feel
ing oy action; but, if the discourses
are chiefly intended for persons of a
particular class, that class should
have a preference of accommodation,
or the object is unattained. In this
view, would it not be advisable to
reserve the square of the church for
young men exclusively, and tlint oth
ers should he permitted to occupy
the \V a 11 pews only, and the gallery 5
I earnestly recommend the subject
to the consideration of those who
have the regulation of it, and hope
they will not diminish, by any over
sight in arrangement, the great good
which these lectures are calculated
to produce. A Father.
Messrs. Editors:—I was not a
little surprised this morning, on taking
up your paper, to find that the regu
lations of tin South Dutch Church
during the evenings it is ap;»opiiated
for the purpose of delivering ‘ Uis-
courses to the Young,/ should be
treated as it has been by “A Father.'’
to carry it back to its place. ‘Upon
Ibis’ the narrative proceeds, Stone,
who was then in his 18th year, claim
ed the book as bis own. “Yours?”
replied the Duke?’ ‘do you understand
Geometry, Latin, and Newton?’ ‘I
know a little of them,’ replied the
young man. The Duke was much
surprised, and having a taste for sci
ences, ho entered into conversation
with the young mathematician. lie
asked him several questions, and he
was astonished at the force, the accu
racy, and the candour of his answers.
'But how’ said the Duke, ‘came you
by the knowledge of all these things?”
Stone replied, ‘A servant taught me
ten years since to read. Does one
need to know any thing more than the
24 letters, in order to learn every
thing else that one wishes?’ The
Duke's curiosity redoubled, he sat
down on the hank, and requested a
detail of the whole process by which
he had become so learned. ‘I first
learned to read,’ said Stone; ‘the ma
sons were then at work upon your
house. I approached them one day,
and observed that (he architect used
a rule and compasses, and that lie
1 made calculations. I inquired what
■ might be the meaning and use of these
i things, and I was informed that there
! was a si ience called arithmetic.. I
Look now at the condition of a man
who has become the slave of strong
drink; mark his downward course,
from one degradation to another; see
him consumed by slow fires; stand by
him in a fit oidtlirium tremens; vis
it him at the almshouse; come to his
dying bed, as his soul shrieks away to
stand before God, the soul of a drunk
ard! What hazards are these! Does
it not require some nerve for a man to
drink?
2. Again, it is plain that every so
ber drinker lends the countenance of
his example to all drinking; and that
his practices may reasonably be ex
pected to have an influence upon his
friends, his associates, liis children.
Instances are frequently brought
forward, of sons carried to a prema-
religion are more zealous in the cause
of righteousness* than members of tbe
church.
Sometimes 1 get sore ruls in your
paper, and feel almost determined to
throw it up, and free myself from a
tormentor; but then conscience tells'
me, if the use of ardent spirits ir
wrong, 1 ought to know it; if 1 shut
my eyes against the light, and indulge
myself without restraint, I would not
free myself from the guilt of sinful
indulgence. And 1 am afraid too,
that some of my neighbors, whor
know 1 take a little, w .11 suspect that?
I quit the paper, because I had to
read pieces that gave me trouble,
and 1 will be considered a man who'
deprived my family of a religious pa
pers and of usejvl instruction, that I
ture grave, by drunkenness, which ■ might gratify my appetite by taking a
they first learned at the table of a so- Jittle.
her father; so that it lias become a
matter of established conviction to the
minds of those who have turned their
attention to the subject, that every
sober drinker, who is a father, may
safely calculate upon ruining some
son or grandson by his example.
Let any father look at the son, who
is the pride of his strength, and the
joy of his heart; and then in imagina
tion, follow' that son through all the
successive scenes, until in his grey
hairs he lays him in the drunkard’s
grave. And then let him say, if the ! himself.’
Whenever I hear the subject of
Temperance touched upon, either in-
the pulpit, or in private conversa
tion, I feel a kind of instinctive oppesi-
tion within me, which it requires an
effort to suppress. But there is an
other thing, 1 will mention. Though
I’ am convinced that the practice of
treating with spirits is producing a
habit, which eternally destroys the im
mortal s"ul, yet, iF 1 refuse to treat
my jriends or my laborers, they wilt
say, ‘He wants all his liquor to drink
When it was announced from the desk,, , ,
a week or two previous to the first ! P'‘‘’ ch «f«l " 1,ook of ar,thmct,c ’ and
lecture, at what time they were to
common e, it was also slated, that
although they were intended especial
ly for the yonng, jet the old and the.
middle aged were by no means to be
excluded; but on the contrary were
earnestly solicited to attend,
why? “Because,” said the
and respected Pastor of the Church, j
the aged and the middle ant'd, the j
father and tho mother, should no less
be acquainted with the nit of goie-n-
ing. than the young should know how
to he governed.' 1 ' 1
This is the reason, I presume,
arned it. I was told there was nn-
ot;cr science called geometry; I
bought the necessary books, and I
learned geometry. Bv reading, I
found that there were good hooks in
these two s ienc.es in Latin; 1 bought
j a dictionary and learned Latin. I un-
j> v i derstood, also, list there were good
hooks of the same kind in French; I
bought a dictionary, and I learned
French. And this, rny lord, is what I
have done; it seems to me that we
may learn every thing, when we know
the twenty-four letters of the alpha
bet.’”
Messrs'. Editors, why we find so ma- pYrpp —
ny of the aged and the middle aged J 1
attending these lectures; and so far Show me a man who is most care
ts I can see, it is not only consistent folly doing all the duties which the
for them to attend as parents, but a Bible requires of him, and with the
duly which they owe to their children spirit it requites, and 1 wish not to in-
and to society. As it respects the In- quire what he believes. I want no
dies, whom it appears “A Father” other evidence of his genuine faith,
has particularly alluded to, I really than his benevolent and devoted heart;
know not in what manner to speak.— bis consistent and active life. For
Indeed, gentlemen, 1 cannot think only genuine faith could thus purify
that a Father ever committed such his affections, end enable him to over
all opinion to a paper. What! have | come the world,—aud exercise so
the square of the church filled w ith transforming an influence upon his
young men, and the ladies c rammed ! " hole character. On the other hand
Perchance’to wonder what must be his j away in the gallery or in the side : shew me a man w ho lives tor the
doom ... ... ! pews and corners of the church! No,: world supremely; who regards the,
no. Civilized society has ever dis-1 tlnr.gs which arc his own, exclusive- j
countenanced such a course; and I
hope for the honor of our nature, ever
", If the young are to he particu
larly favoured with these lectures,
let the ladies, the middle aged and
the aged, be excluded altogether.—
For what do you suppose would be
the feelings, {without asking where |
his gallantry would be,)ofa young man
after attending a mother, a sister, or
man who can brave this cannot brave
anjr thing.
3. Since this subject has been so
set before the community, that it has
begun to he understood, there is pro
duced among the 6trictly temperate,
a general horror of strong drink.
No reflecting person can drink in
the presence of another, without feel
ing that he is observed; and observed
too, with strong feelings of mingled
commiseration and disgust. And
these feelings are excited too, not
merely in the minds of a few bigots,hut
among a vast many of the most judi
cious and considerate portions of the
community: persons who, after they
have once imbibed such a course of
feelings, will not easily forget then!.
When a man makes up his mind to
outrage all these feelings, and to
stand forth in the character of a drink
er, he must feel that he makes no
small sacrifice, and that he gives up
the respect of a portion of his fellow
men, whose respect, if it could be
fairly preserved, would be of value.
And does'it not require a strong reso
lution, for a man to breast this current
of public opinion, and drink away, right
or irroncr?
Thus sir, you sec 1 am surrounded
with the most painful difficulties. and
if you, or your cuiiespondents, will
assist me in extricating myself, you
will be entitled to the thanks of
Simon Take-a-Little.
To the Learned.—Conversing lately
with a distiller of whiskey, he argued
in favour of his business, that the grain
from which the spirit is extracted
will afford as much nourishment to
swine, as if given to them in its natural
state; so that the spirit must be con
sidered as a clear gam to the world.
The question naturally arose, if this
spirit, before it was extracted, could
not nourish swine, how can it give
nourishment to men, in its separate
stale, or as taken from the bottle?
The whiskey-maker said be did not
know, neither did 1 know. 1 therefore
propose the query to those, who have
leisure and skill to investigate such
matters.
If it should be thought that the
spirit, in its separate state, possesses
nourishing qualities, which it has not
while in the grain or meal, it may be
worth while for distillers to try the
experiment of pouring it lack into
For my part/he ease appears to their s\till, ior the hogs. Perhaps one
bushel of grain, which has been thus
medicated in one of “the devil’s tea
(Vi
the fair land that fi"9 beyond the j
, tomb. _ _ I
Alas! for him, if, in its aivful plan,
Heaven deal with bun as be Hath dealt
with man.
ROOM FOR THE PROUD.
Room for the prond! ye sons of clay;
From far his sweeping pomp survey,
Nor rashly curious, clog the way,
flig chariot wheels bcfoie!
J,o! with what scorn liis lofty eve
Glances o’er age and poverty,
And bids intruding conscience fly
Far from his palace door!
Room for the Proud! But slow the feet
That bear his coffin down the street,
And dismal seems his winding sheet
Who purple lately wore.
Ah! where shall now his spirit fly,
In na’ced, trembling agony?
Or how shall he for mercy cry,
Whoshow’d it not before? Herer.
MISCELLANEOUS.
From the New York Journal of Com
merer.
DISCOURSES TO THE YOUNG
Messrs. Editors:—! trust you
will have no objection, through the
medium of your paper, to diffuse more
extensively the information that
number of the clergy of the city have
associated to deliver a series of dis
courses to the young; and that one
given every Sabbath evening, m the
South Dutch Church, .Exchange
r ilace. Two have already been de-
ivered, and have been heard with
great satisfaction by very numerous
which arc
ly.; who is selfish and worldly in all
his conversation and deportment,
manifesting no concern for his own
immortal interests, nor for those of
Ins fellow men, and I have evidence
j enouah of liis unbelief,—of liis i?n
i tire destitution of that faith which is
1 essential to salvation. Whatever lie
professes to believe, whatever creeds
lie may bring forward and advocate as
I will go farther and say, the object j l'| 8 own, and as what he views as in-
of all his earthly hopes and wishes,' dispensable lo his eternal well being:
to the church door, lo he compelled ! {'•>* ciuhiet is demonstration that he
to consign her or them to the gallery,
a wall pew, or a stand in one of the
aisles! I would request “A Father”
to reflect on this subject—to call to
mind the days of youth, nndr.sk him-
s^lf what his opinion would have been
when ho was— A YOUNG MAN.
SELF EDUCATION.
Among the memoirs of self eiueat-
cd men in The Library of Entertaining
Knowledge, the notice of Thomas
Simpson, the celebrated mathemati
cian, is peculiarly striking; and ihe
following is n fitting sequel;—“We
have remarked that the book from
which Simpson acquired his first
knowledge of fluxions was a work by
Edmund Stone. Stone affords us an
other instance of a self-educated
mathmatician. Neither the place
nor time of his birth is exactly known;
hut he was probably a native of Ar-
gyleshire, and born a few years before
the close of the seventeenth century.
He is spoken of as having reached an
is an unbeliever.—He h?s ny faith,
because there is nothing wfthin that
works by love, and purifies the heart
and overcomes the world.
me so strong, that whenever I sec an
intelligent riian drinking liquor, I am
irresistibly impressed with this con
viction. I*Ie is animated, either by a
very high moral courage, or a very un
conquerable appetite for strong drink.
./V. Y. Ols.
[Fromthe Christian Herald,]
A MAN IN TROUBLE.
Mr. J , I ain an elder of the
Presbyterian Church, and may say
without the fear of the imputation of
vanity, that I atn respected in my of
fice. But some late occurrences in
this congregation have placed me in a
very unpleasant situation. A Tem-
| pernnee Society lias lately been
j formed here, and a large proportion of
(the congregation have agreed to nb-
; stain from spirituous liquors. From
| the corn' encement of the business 1
I refused to join the Society; because I
| had my doubts whether it would do
I any good. And in this place sir, I
! must confess that I am in the habit of
taking a little spirits, now and then.
Besides, it would be linrd to require a
man of my age, to deny himself such
an indulgence. I am afraid my health
would suffer, should I abandon it.
Thus sir, though nay first objection
to the Society has vanished, and I
cannot doubt that it is doing much
good, yet I cannot belong to it, and
myself placed in a most awkward
MORAL COURAGE OF DRINK
ING.
We sometimes hour (lie advocates
fer drinking profess that they are not ^ find
afraid to drink; and even boasting of'and painful predicament. I can nei-
Iheir courage in this matter. And 1
think there is at least some show of
reason in their boasting Is there not
1 tlier support the Temperance reforma
tion nor oppose it: nor even stand nm-
a good deal of moral courage in drink
ing ?
1. It lias been made abundantly
manifest that every drinker is. uncon
sciously perhaps, hut inevitably, cher
ishing an appetite for liquor, which
“grows by what it feeds on,” and that
no drinker is aware of the power al
ready gained by this appetite. Nor
can he tell how soon his insidious ene
my shall get the mastery over reason,
conscience, affection, and the seuse
of a hereafter.
tral.
If I support the reformation, its
friends will exclaim, no halving of
the matter, “let's go for the whole;”
and its enemies will say ‘Physician,
heal thyself.’
If 1 oppose reform, I am putting
myself with drunkards, and will ruin
my character.
And if 1 stand neutral, if I refuse
to lend my aid against this vice, my
conscience will trouble me; and be
sides, the remark will be in every
body’s mouth, that non-professors of
kettles,” may have as much virtue in
it, as two or three, used in the ordi
nary way. Take care, however,
that there be no steep place, over
w hich they may run down into the
sea.— Ft. Chron,
It is a remarkable fact, that let a pa
rent be ever so regardless of truth and’
justice, or ever so devoted to sensual
pleasures, still lie would not have his
children adopt his principles, or copy
his example. No; lie would dread this
as a most serious evil, and would
rejoice to be assured of the stability of
their moral principles. Is this not a
sure evidence that, however men may
seem devoted to the world, they never
theless fear it like an insincere and
treacherous friend? They know how
deceptive are its offered pleasures, &
experience has taught them tbe un
satisfying nature of its pursuits; and al
though they have not themselves the
resolution to break from them, they
cannot endure the thought, that those
whom they love should in like manner
be enslaved to vanity. We could not
have a stronger argument to prove the
temporal value of a religious education.
“I suppose, “said a quack while
feeling the pulse of his patient, “ that
you think me a fool.” “ Sir,” replied
the sick man, “ 1 perceive you can
discover a man‘s thoughts by his
pulse.”
Pride.—If a proud man makes me
keep my distance, the comfort is he
keep his at the same time.
Dr. Swift.
Drunk.—It is an honor to their (the
Spaniards) laws, that a man loses hie
testimony who can be proved once te
have been drunk.—Sir Wm. Tern le't
Works.
Drink.—Rarely drink but when thou
artjdry; the smaller the drink the clear
er the head, and the cooler the blood,
which are great benefits in temper^ and
business.— Wm. Penn's Work*.