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i 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*.