Augusta herald. (Augusta [Ga.]) 1799-1822, September 25, 1799, Image 4

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MUSES RETREAT. THE BLUSH OF ~ SIMPLICITY. While Charlotte, confcioui that (he loves, Would hide the crimlun’s tnnfient hue, She veils the biufh, wh.ch only prove* A he»rt to iove ani Coria true. In errjng maid* that fondly stray, A tinge as bright a* thine we lee; Y*t clouded lo ks i's f urte betny, Unknown to innocence and thee. No cloud thine eyes of Candor know, To lh*.de th-ir sweet expreflion o’er j Tut to the foft luffuftng g;«w, They kindle quick, and sparkle more, Ah ! may such glances ever speak The Ample b’.ufli on Chariot e’s cheek ! THE FOLLOWING LINES fVere written on feeing a Bird reftlejs in a cage which, had been newly caught AH! thou poor little flutt’ring thing, DragM from thy freedom dear ; In iron ptifon doom’d to sing, To charm th’ oppreflur’s ear. Alas! dear bird, thy fate is mine, A pris’ner’s woes I (hare, My captive heart doth pant like thine, 1 listen to difpair. THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. On the fort refs of St. John at Marseilles, which was demoliflied during the revolu tion, human nature had been for almost a century insulted, by a Latin inscription, “ Tnis tower vva9 credted bv Louis XIV. left his faithful people of Marseilles flnuld become infatuated with the love of lib erty.” THE JACOBIN’S EVASION. WHEN Tom had lcditioully dat ’d to (Xtlaim, That in England w t wanted no king, And was brought toihejuftice toanfwer the fame, Thus contriv’d he his accufcrs to fling - " Pleafc your worfliip, (fay* Tom) that I said so, I grant, “ And in what I’ve affirmed I’ll be Heady, “ l'or Englishmen finely no monarch can want, “They have such a good one AL READY.” * | ~ I PULPIT METAPHORS. TIIE late Mr. John Wesley, when , preaching once at Cheller, soon after the death of the pious lady Huntington, said , that “he was sure her ladyfliip was a look- | ing-glifs in heaven, for departed brothers , and filters to fee their f ices in ” A fanatical preacher, near Stockport, , tHely called upon the Lord, “to wipe his , lips with the towel of love— and to lend him , a pair of gospel fnuffers that lie might fnujf j the caudle ol grace." \ At Liverpool a certain reverend Pastor, (of well-known eccentricity) once told his | flock, that when he mounted the pulpit, | he sometimes fancied he was firting down | to plav a rubber at all fours with Belxebub ! “My text I confnler, (laid he) as turning i tip a trump card; and this night 1 have high, law, fact, and in my own hand.”- ANECDOTES. A CERTAIN woman gave her husband a dole of poison in order to get rid of him, but finding it did dot operate so soon as file expedted, (or rather wiflied) added a quan titv of quicksilver to hasten the business; but that nimble and weighty fubtlance 1 soon made its way through his. body, and carried the poison with it, before it could frize on the vital parts, and so freed him from danger; on which an epigram was wrote, which ends thus: The goi* fern health by a molt wretched wife, F.>r, when utc will, two yoifon* save * life. A WOMAN in the village of Piotou was ill, and fell into so deep a tleep, that all about her thought her dead. She was wrapped in linen only (as is the ettftom of the poor people in France! and was then carried to be buried. As they were going to the church yard, the bearers went so close to a bulh, that one of the thorns pricked her and roused her from her leth argy. Fourteen vear* alter, flie was again thought to be dead: as now they were car ring her to the grave, coining near the old place, the husband cried out fcveral times Pray keep further off tkt bujh. \ SCOTCH bag piper travelling to Ireland, opened his wallet by a wood fide, and fat down to dinner: no sooner had he said grace, but three wolves came about him. To one he threw bread, to another meat, tiii his provender was ail gone. At * length he took up his pipes, and began to play, ;.t which the wolves runaway. “ The clcel saw me, (faidSawney,)and had I ken’d you loo'd music so wed, you tliould have lueu \t betore dinner l” , - jiTVi ... 11 ’' pkcebe smith. A MORAL TALE. BY Mr. C. I. PITT. SWEET as the voice of the fyren is the language of lenfibility j foft as the afpedt of nature, when the genius of storms me detares, in silence, a tumultuous defeent: but oft, like the prelufive calm it contains the feeds of mifehief; and, like the har mony of the fyren, should be heard with distrust. As the delightful beverage of the vineyard, it attunes the heart to the molt generous and falurary affections: but, with that, deals inlenfibly on the imagination; and, unless tempered by the according hand of diferetion, debates where it ftiouid refine, and ennervates where it Ihouid confirm. Sensibility, though undoubtedly propi tious to virtue, like all excellencies, has its counterfeit; and, when carried to an ex treme, degenerates into vice. The spirit of nature rejoices in equanimity ; and pre fers, for her refidencc, the bovvers of spring. Phoebe Smith was the only, and darling child of captain Smith ; a military gentle man, who having devoted the flower of his days to the honorable service of his country, retired at fifty-fix, crowned with the well-earned laurel, to a small family es tate in Fiintfllire. His avocations were such as will naturally suggest themselves to be mod eligible to a liberal and poliQud mind. An union of thirty years had im proved, rather than impaired, the afFedtion of an amiable wife; and the dutiful de meanor of his daughter, founded on prin ciple, was confirmed by parental tender - nefs. So entire a confidence, indeed, sub sisted between the members of this little fa rnilv, that they might truly be said to ex perience that summit of terrestrial joy, do mestic felicity. Unhappily, however, a chief trait in the character of Phoebe was an ingenuous benevolence of heart, which, through judging others by herfelf, induced her generally to attribute more sincerity to mankind than common experience will an tliorife She also pofllfled a delicate fenli bility; which by an immediate attachment to what is called Sentimental Literature, became so exquisitely refined, that hcraf fedfions grew too chimerical to fatisfy, and her solicitudes almost too poignant to lup port. Her father witntfled this perversion of her mind with no little anxiety ; but, in his attempts to reclaim her, averse to harfli nefs, only took the mild methods of re monstrance and reasoning. “ My dear Phoebe,” would he fay, lenfibility is the offspring of Humanity ; and, consequent ly ought to be cheriflied; but let us be careful that the method* wc take to im prove, do not corrupt it. Too much in dulgence is as detrimental as total negledt. Whenever we refine our ideas and affec tions to such a degree that the former can not be reduced to pradlice, and the latter revolts, at co-operating with the claims of focietv, there is great reason to fufpedt that we have transgressed the ordinances of Nature; for virtue disclaims useless specu lation, and focietv can only be benefited by alacrity and perseverance. lam afraid, that the world has more to dread, on the (core of degeneracy, from those who flile themselves Sentimental Writers, than we are apt to conceive. The genuine effu (ions of honest fenfibilitv, are of service to morality ; but if we allow ourselves to be affcdled by the quaint bombast of a diftem pered fancy, or the querulous detail of a diffatisfied mind ; we (hall, in all probabi lity, imbibe the enthufi.ifm of the one, and the peevifhnels of the other. When the mind poflcHes (Length to difcri.minate, anil coolness to examine, little danger need be apprehended ; but as the credulous impe tuosity of youth often produces improper confidences, and fatal decisions; and, as we are always liable to be milled, through the arts of the designing, and the specious arguments of infatuated error; it is cer tainly moftadvifable, in such cases to con sult experience for information, before we form conclusions, or meditate pursuits. “ Do not imagine that I would curtail your pleasures. I only wilh to diredt them to a proper channel; and I think it my duty to warn you against the iticonvenien cies you are likely to fuffer from an intem perate paflion for aufpicies of writing, ge nerally captivating, but rarely natural; conllquently, calculated chiefly to aflfedl our hnppinefs by vitiating our morals.” Phoebe was nineteen when ensign Med hurft, ion to an old fchoolfellow of the captain’s came down to spend a few weeks with our little family. He was a young man polfdled of many accomplishments, but destitute of Principle. He had never seen Phoebe before; and had not been long acquainted with her, before he rcfolved to repay the hofpitaiity of the father by the ruin of the daughter. Adlive observation soon informed him of her ruling palfion ; and, by flattering this, he promised him felf the attainment ot his wilh. Evcrv one much conversant with fentihnental no vels. will readily conceive the methods which he took; and, from the fame intel* ligence, will probably anticipate the ca tastrophe! Hisdefignsaccompltflied, Med hurft, on a preconcerted i’cheme, took his leave at the villa sooner Ulan was expe&ed; but succeeded in consoling the heart break ing Phoebe, by alfuring her, that the mo ment he had fettled the business which un expectedly called him away, he would as ftiredly return, and ask her hand rs her fa ther, being certain, as he said, of obtain ing that of his own. months, however, palled without her leeing him; it is true, that he had twice written to her, from motives of po licy, and this kept hope aiive in her bteaft; nor was it till the expiration of that period, when she heard of his being married in London, that her eyes were completely open to his villainy, and her own lhame. These circumftanccs operated so ftverely on her mind, as to throw her into a molt violent fever: out of which she arose, af ter more than two months, an emaciated objeCf of lunacy i It was now, from her emphatic incohe rences, that the doating parents firft ga thered the occasion of their daughter’s ma lady, and a knowledge of the wretch who had betrayed her. To attempt at deferib ing the father’s agonies, would be affecta tion ; for the mother’s, ft.dice it to fay, that Ihe fell an immediate victim to them ! But for the interference of an intimate friend of the Captain, he had set off imme diately to London, that he might facrifice Medhurft to the manes of hL wife, and as an expiatory offering for the indiferetion of his child. This gentleman represented, that he was altogether unworthy of death infliCted by the hand of a man of honor; recommended him, for his child’s f-ke, not to risk his own life ; and assured him, s hat he would exert himfelf to the utmofl, in bringing that vi lain to as condign a punishment as the law would allow. The wretched parent seemed fatisfied with these afTurances, and endeavored to appear composed ; but his flattering ap pearance was like that of Etna, whose sides are covered with verdure, while fires prey on its entrails. He had fully determined in his own mind, to avenge his wrongs more effectu ally than the law would admit: for this purpose, unknown to his friend, he sent a pielfing invitation to old Medhurft and his fun, which he begged they would com ply with as fcon as pofiible. Frank, who had every thing to dread, made every ex cuse hereafunably could ; but as his father was very partial to the Captain, he infilled on his compliance, and they set off to gether. On their arrival, they were (hewn into the parlor; where the Captain fat, with his /fiend, who was surprised at their unex pected appearance. Mr. Medhurft, after the salutation, which he thought rather tool,enquired for Mrs. Smith, and Phoe be, and thertafon why the family was in mourning. The Captain, with a deep sigh, r.nfwereJ, that his wife was no more; and entreated their company, with that of his friend, to visit Phoebe, whom they would find in the garden. She was now in so deplorable a state, as scarcely to remember the features of any one ; and, when they difeovered her, she was fitting in the very bower where she had firft uftened to her betrayer. Fiank trembled at the approach, and shrunk back behind his father. She did not perceive them till thev were close to the entrance. “ Huflt !” file cried, “you’ve frightened him away ; and he was faying thefweeteft thing ! he knelt there; and when he said he loved me , oh ! how the tears ran down his cheekb—and my heart fluttered—yes, he talked so charmingly—but, there I’ve a fad memory.”—Then taking up the re- I mains of a role, the leaves of which file had scattered on the ground, and looking will fully at her father—“ This was a pretty rose once!”—So striking an emblem of herfelf, heightened by the unconscious manner in which she uttered it, operated with full force on her father. He hid his face for a moment; and then, recolleCling himlelf, re-aflumed his previous sternness. At this moment, Frank, by altering his position, caught the eye of the affliCled girl ; she fnrveyed him forne time, with a lort of confufed terror; then, riling from her feat, left the bower, and walked pre cipitately to the house. Their eyes fol lowed her, till they loft fight of her, when the Captain thusaddreffed them—“ This entertainment 1 have provided for you is a melancholy one, but necessity demands it; the fate of that unhappy girl was the death of her mriher !”—Here he drew’ his hand across his eyes—“ and her misery was occasioned by a wretch who, while he eat at my table, planned the ruin of my child.” Then, turning to Frank, “do I (peak fafely ?” Hardened as he was in vice, the contemptible culprit hung his head, incapable of either denying the accufarion, or of offering the fmalltft excuse, while his father llood confounded with wonder end horror. But the silence of a few moments was interrupted by the Captain; who, drawing r case of pistols from his pocket, preiented one to young Medhurft. “ There, Sir! Would roGodyon had dealt J,,m with me.” The father and friend j,,'.*/ sered in vain : the Captain was ed, they measured paces, and t! e fell. It were needltfs to dwell (-n the filing scene. Mr. Medhurft applied to t'-j bar of criminal jorifcii&ion for rtd-e-" The Capiain religned himfelf with chear! fuinels; and, being found guilty of rnur der, heard with great fitmnefs, fentenceo f death pa fled on him. The very peculiar circumstances efi - cale, however, together with the recoiled tion of his profelfional fcrvices, procured him the Ro\al n.ercy. But, though restor ed to society, he was not so to himfelf. buried Phoebe soon after; fold his eftai» ; and, retiring to one of the most jemete parts of England, dedicated the fliort mainder of his life to brocd ; >g fditude and hopeless lorrow. [FROM a LATE LONDON PAPER.] The following dreadful tale is tcld in the French Journal, Le Clef du Cabinet: A MAN in the Department of Bar fur Onain, having been mutilated by three ruf flans, applied to the Police, who in conse quence of it apprehended a man in the Canton of Vaid, who was charged by the injured party with the crime. The wife of the accused, w ith all his family, consist ing of a daughter of sixteen years of age, and two Tons, one aged nineteen and the other seventeen years, went to visit him and returned home in a state of despair. On the following morning the children went into the field to the plow’, and about ten o’clock the mother called them home. In returning they parted by a rivulet, when the daughter said, “ Magdalen, you may throw the clothes into the water as we fliaii have nofurtheroccafion for them.” They then entered the liable and shut the door ciofe. Screams and groans were heard, and shortly afterwards the young man of nineteen opened the door, and ran into the street with his throat cut and covered with blood ; he plunged himfelf into the rivulet, came out again, and threw him (elf on the bank. The people ran to him, interogated him, but he could give no an swer, and died. They ruflied into the house, but found no one, they hastened to the liable, where they saw the young man of seventeen years of age, with his throat cut, expiring, and laying or. the breall of his lifter, who had also her throat cut, and by the fide of w hom lay a bloody hatchet. In searching the loft, they perceived a deadly and lived hand, which they found to be that of the woman, bathed in her blood. She was yet alive, and every af fifiance having been given to her, she "V brought to herfelf, and her wounds found not to be mortal. The unhappy woman declared, that having been to fee her hus band, she could not bear the idea of the dilhonor which would attach to herfelf and her family from his execution: Ihe had therefore determined to die, and prevailed upon her children to die with her. They knelt down before her to receive their death wound, which Die gave them with a hatchet j that Ihe immediately afterwards attempted to stab herfelf, but the knife not having reached her heart, Ihe had twice stabbed herfelf in the body; that having perceived that her eldelt son, in struggling with death, had opened the door, and fear ing to be difeovered, Ihe had fufficient strength to afeend into the loft, with an intent to throw herfelf out of the window, but her strength failed her. She was ar rested and carried to commercy. In go ing out of her house, Ihe saw the bodies of her three children, without betraying any emotion, and declared, that if Ihe had had thirty, {lie should have put them all to death, to avoid the lhame of having their father gullotined. moralist. THOUGHTS ON VIRTUE. VIRTUE is the highelt exercise and improvement of reason, the connexion, harmony, and just balance of affections and palftons; the health strength and beau ty of the mind. The fatisfacliou of vir tue may be purchased without a bribe, and poflefted by the humblest, as well as the most triumphat fortune; they can bear the ftrifteft review, do not change with circumstances, not grow old with time, force cannot rob, nor fraud cheat us of them ; and, to crown all, inltead of abating they enhance every other pleasure. Virtue is the greatest ornament; it is to the young neceflarv, to the aged comfor table, to the poor serviceable, to the rich an ornament, to the fortunate an honor, to the unfortunate a support. She enobles the Have, and exalts nobility itfelf. In Ihort, let it be remembered that none can be disciples of the graces but in the Ichool of virtue, and that those who wish to be lovely, but learn to be good. “ To suppliant virtue nothing is deny’d.'* “ For beili-gs ever wait on virtuous deeds, “ Aad tho' a late a lure reward lucceeds.”