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ir D'&'TJ&'jC* mmi la the summer of IKOO, Mr. John Quincy Adams, then Minister at Ber lin, made an excursion through Silesia .tn-1 visited the Giant Mountain, the highest land in Germany. It was the custom for travellers, alter they had visited it, to wiite their names, and some sentiment, in a hook kept at a cottage on the, side of the mountain, and he thus describes his sensations: “ Sentiments of devotion l have al - ways found the first to take possession of the mind, on ascending lofty moun tains. At the summit of the Giant s head, my first thought was turned to the Supreme Creator, who gave exis tence to all that immensity of objects that expanded before iny view. Ihe transition from this idea, to that of my own relation, as an immortal soul, with the Author of Nature, was Natu ral and immediate: from this to Ihe recollection of my native country, iny parents and friends, there was but a single and a sudden step. On return ing to the hut, where we had lodged, I wrote the following lines in the book.” From Imitls, beyond (lie vast Atlantic ti<lc, Celestial freedom's most belov il abode,. Panting, 1 climb'd the mountain's craggy side, And viewed (lie wondrous works of Na ture's Cod. Where yonder summit, peering to the skies, Beholds the earth beneath it w ith disdain, O’er all the regions round 1 cast my exes, And anxious sought iny nat/vt Iwme—hi vain. Vs to that native home, which till infolds Those youthful friendships, to ray soul so dear, you, ray parents, in its bosom hold ; My fancy'flew, l felt the start ing tear. Then, in the rustling of the morning wind, M< thought I heard a spirit whisper fair; Pilgrim forbear, still upward raise thy mind, “ Look to the skies, thy native home is there.” —uOro— COLUMBI \. Hi/ the late Eduard Chapman, Esq. Columbia’s shores arc wild and wide, Columbia's hills are high, And rudelj planted side by side, Her fore: Is meet the eye; But narrow mot those snores be made, And low Columbia's hill*, And lo'v Imt ancient forests laid. E’er freedom leaves her fields: For, tis (lie land where, rude and wild, She play’d her gambols when a child. And deep nd wide our streams that flow Impetuous to the tide, And thick and green the laurels grow On cv’ry river’s side ; But, should a transatlantic host Pollute our waters fair, We’ll meet them on the rocky coast, And gather laurels there : Foi O! Columbia’s sons are brave, Andfreeas ocean’s wildest wave. ‘I he gales that wave otir mountain pines, Are fragrant ami serene, And never clearer sun did shine Than lights ourvallies green ; But fetid must those breezes blow, That sun must set in gore, E’er footstep of a foreign foe Imprint Columbia’s shore For 0! her sons arc brave and tree, Their breasts beat high w till liberty. For arming boldest Cuiratsieur We’ve mines of sterling worth, For sword andbucklcr, spur and spear, F.inbowel’d in the earth ; But e’er Columbia’s sons resign The boon their lathers won, The polish'd ore from ev'ry mine isliall glitter in the sun: For bright the blade mid sharp the spear That freedom’s sons to battle bear. Let Britain boast the deeds siie’s done, Display her trophies bright, And count her laurel? bravely won In well-contested light.— Colombia can array a band \\ ill wrest that laurel wrv • \A ith truer ex e and steadu I ~:d Will strike thr blow of death : For, w hetlier on the land or sea, Columbia's fight is victory. Let France in blood through Europe wade, And in her frantic mood In civil discord draw the Hade, And ‘-pill her children's blood.— Too dear that skill in tirin’ is bon lit M here kindred l’te-blood flows; Columbia s sons are only tangbt To triumph o'er their foes ; And then to comfort, soothe, and save The feelings of the conquer'd brave. ‘t hen let Columbia's Cagle soar And bear in r banner high, The thunder from In r dexter pour And lightning from her eye ; And w hen she sees, from realms above, The storm of war i- s|>ent, Descending, like the welcome dove, ’the Olive branch present: And then shall liemity’s hand divine ‘I lie never fading wreath entwine. < .1 ...ssccHivnav. essaa on walking. V> alking may be defined, a con test ior precedence between two feet, while, as is usual in most con tests, a third party reaps die ad vantage. Now ]. propose not to consider the gait of any other an imal but man. The rest of the creation may walk, crawl, fly, hop swim, and jump, according to then different fancies, but let the biped take care how he walks, lest he come under my critical obser vation. Neither shall I pretend to enumerate the good effects oi walking on the health of the body, but merely describe the appearance of mankind while exercising their ambulatory faculties ; as for those who lose the use of their legs, for the sake lolling in their carriages, or like sonic of the eastern nations, find sufficient delight in a squatting posture, I leave them entirely out of the question. The pedestrian of whatever rank or description is the object of my present atten tion. It is well knowm that the physi ognomists derive much assistance in developing a man’s character from observing his gestures and attitudes, but as I can boast no great proficiency in that art, 1 must j consider myself in the light of an humble observer, collecting mat ter for the benefit of my readers, who are at liberty to consider themselves as very acute physiog nomists. The first mode of walking which shall merit our attention, is the 1 Swagger. The swaggerer may be j known by the reeling motion of his j body, like an inverted pendulum,! and the large extent of ground he measures at each step : his pro gress is accelerated by the swing of his arms, which lie employs like a pair of oars. If accustomed to carv a stick, he becomes a dan gerous animal by frequently an noying his neighbours shins, and then knocking a child on the head. N. 15. This is an excellent walk to conceal the effects of the bottle. The reverse of this is the Cat- Step , for an exemplification of which, let any one look at a French fuseur, on his visits to his custom ers, or dancing master pacing it along ; or a juggler walking on eggs, or one of those beings who are always very busy about noth ing, and troubled with the fidgets. The Strut or Spanish walk, l'o perform this, the body must be kept erect, while the foot is brought forward with a majestic air. Peo ple suddenly made rich, and new made Aldermen, take a great deal of pains in learning to “Walk Spanish.” This mode of walking is much practised by some gradu ates in our village. It is not cal culated for men of business, so I may as well budge onto meet the Wadler . His exertions to car ry the enormous paunch before him, gives him that motion which entitles him to the class : but as his chief happiness appears the in creasing this load, we shall leave him at a turtle feast. Ihe Graceful Step. Conforma ble to nature and without affection. This would be the largest class if every person had his choice on which to be arranged. Politeness will not suffer us to place the fe male sex in any but this, for “ Grace was in all her steps,” as Milton says, and he must not be contra dicted by ORSON. From the Edinburgh Review. Literature formerly was a sweet Hermitress, w ho fed on the pure breath of fame, in silence ami in solitude ; far from the madding strife, in sylvan shade or cloistered hall, she trimmed her lamp, or turned her hour-glass, pale with studious care, and (liming only to ‘ make the age to come her own !’ She gave her life to the per fecting some darling work and bequea thed it, dying,to posterity ! Vain hope, perhaps; but the hope itself was frui tion—calm, serene, blissful, unearthly’! Modern literature, on the contrary is a gay Coquette, fluttering, fickle, vain ; foil owed by a train offlutterers ; besie ged by a crowd of pretenders ; court ed, she courts again ; receives, deli cious praise, and dispenses it; is impa tient for applause ; pants for the breath ot popularity ; renounces eternal fame for a newspaper puff; trifles with all sorts of arts and sciences ; coquettes with fifty accomplishments—mille,ur rrntus habet, viille decenter ; is the sub ject of polite conversation ; the darling of private parties ; the go-between in in politics; the directress of fashion ; the polisher of manners; and, like her winged prototype in Spenser, “ YW’ this, now that, she tasteth tenderly glitters, flutters, buzzes, spawns, dies —and is forgotten ! But this very va riety and superficial polish shew the extent ami height to which knowledge has been accumulated, and the general interest taken in letters. To dig to (lie bottom of a subject, through so many, generations of au ihors, is now impossible : the concrete mass is too voluminous and vast to be contained in any single head ; and therefore we must have esseac eg and • imples as substitutes ior it. NV c have collected a superabundance ol raw materials : the grand desideratum now is to fashion, and render tlieirij portable. Knowledge is no longer j confined to the few : the object, there-1 fore is, to make it accessible and at.-; tractive to the many. The Jtloua- j chism of literature i.-> at an end ; (he cells of learning a-e thrown open, and let in the light of universal dav. e must yield to tiiespirit of cliaugc (whe ther for the better or worse ;) and “ to beguile the time, look like the time.” A modern author may (without mucli imputation of his wisdom) declare tor a short life, ami a merrv one. Me may be a little gay, thoughtless, and dissi pated. Literary immortality is now let on short leases, and he must be con tented to succeed by rotation. A scho lar of the olden time had resources, had consolations to support him under many privations and disadvantages. — A light (that light which penetrates the most clouded skies) cheered him in his lonely cell, in the most obscure retirement: and, with the eye of laith, he should sec the meanness of his garb exchanged for the wings ol the Shining | |lines, and the wedding-garment of the ! Spouse. Again, he lived only in the contemplation of old books and old I events; and the remote and future be came habitually present tohis imagina tion, like the past. He was removed from low, petty vanity, by the nature of his studies, and could wait patient ly for his reward till after death. NV e exist in the bustle of the world, and cannot escape from the notice of our contemporaries. We must please to live, and therefore should live to please. We must look to the publick for support. Instead of solemn testi monies from the learned, we require the smiles of the fail and the polite.— If P rinces scowl upon us, the broad 1 shining face of the people may turn to us with a favorable aspect. Is not this life (too) sweet r Would we change it for the former, if we could r Isut the great point is, that we. cannot J Therefore, let Reviews flourish—let : Magazines increase and multiply—let the Daily and Weekly Newspapers live for ever. We are optimists in lit erature, and hold, with certain limita j tions, that, in this respect w hatever i, is light! From (iriscom's “ Year in Europe:’ .1 AMES MONTGOMI,KY. His person is rather beneath the middle size, his countenance open, and he has an elevation of forehead, and a fullness and tenderness of eye, which my imagination could not but regard as an appropriate seat of that pathos of religious feel ing, which spreads through his po etry, its most attractive and endear ing quality. His maimers are gentle and ami able, and his style of conversation is animated, seasoned with play ful wit y and a great readiness in giving his thoughts the clothing of perspicuous and appropriate lan guage. Montgomery is about for ty seven years of age. He has ne ver been married. His father was a Moravian Preacher, who, as well as his mother, died in the West- Indies, while on a missionary jour ney among the poor ignorant blacks. James was educated at a school kept under the direction of that sincere and pious sect, in Yorkshire ; where during ten years of has early life, be remained secluded from the world, and where he doubtless re ceived those convictions of the truth ofithe Christian revelation, which have diffused over his poe tic inspirations, their moral tender ness and sublimity. He is Editor of the Sheffield Itis, a paper which,though it is ranked with those in the opposition, main tains, in reality,a character quite in dependent of a settled hostility to the government, or of the control of party. Scraps from IPs ton/. —ln the for mer part of the reignof Henry VIII. there did not grow in England cab bage, carrot, turnip, or other edi ble root; and it has been noted that even Queen Catharine herself could not command a sallad for dinner until the King brought over a gardner from the Netherlands. About thesame time, the artichoke, the apricot, and the damask rose, made their first appearance in Eng land. ‘Turkeys, carps, and hops, were first known there in the year 1524. The current shrub Was brought from the Island of Zante, anno. 1553, and in the year 1540 cherry trees from Flanders were first planted in Kent. It was in the year 1563 that knives we/e first made in England. Pocket watch es were brought there from Ger many! anno. 1577. About the year IJBO coaches were introduced ; • before which time Queen Elizabeth, on public occasions, rode behind her chambermaid. A saw-mill was erected near London, anno. 1633, but afterwards, demolished, that it might not deprive the ; and st ing poor of emlpovtnent. Dow ci ude w r as the science ol politics, even in that late age ! From the Cayt-V ar Recorder. INTOLERANCE. The recent attempts to deprive the Jews of citizenship, recalls to our recollection the worst times of ancient bigotry. Among nations, indeed, where v iolence is a custom and oppression a maxim, we should not be so much surprised at any deviation from the most manifest , rules of right and justice. But in a country like ours, abounding with Institutions favorable to the indis criminate liberty of conscience, and blessed with a Constitution which, both in the letter and spirit guaran tees to every individual such liber ty, we cannot but be surprised at such consummate audacity. Ne buchadnezzar, King of Babylon, when he set up his golden image in the plain of Dura, and comman ded, among the rest of his subjects, the three children of Israel to wor ship it, committed but a trifling er ror, compared to the mad lolly of the christians of the present day.— The former was governed by an imaginary sense of right—the lat ter influenced by bigotry and hy pocrisy. This persecution is said to be in retaliation for the crucifix ion of our Saviour by the Jews : what a ridiculous pretext, what blasphemous jargon—as if God cannot be the avenger of his own cause, without the aid of half wit ted demagogues, who thus profane his name to advance their interests in a political election. Professors of Religion, before they raise the arm of persecution or revenge, should remember this expression : “vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.” They should ra ther pray that the time would spee dily come when there shall be one fold and one shepherd—and not like fiends, “ gnash on them with their teeth.” If any thing can be calculated to astonish us, it must he the persecu tion oi the Jews by the Christians, in these enlightened days. It can not be otherwise than that these pretended zealots are guilty of the worst of c rimes—that of of using the altat of their God as a steping stone to gratify their personal ambition. If they have read the Scriptures they will find that the cup of sorrow j has been filled to the Jew s, and that He who scattered them abroad will shortly restore them their inherit ance. It is remembered that they are the ancient covenant people of God, who will lie neither to Jew or Gentile ? In a political point of view such proceedings are equally absurd.— There is nothing in the religion of a Jew to prevent the discharge, ho norably and faithfully, of the du ties ot any office or station. There can be no foundation for a charge of a defective moral constitution,in them, any more titan in a Christian, inasmuch as they possess all the advantages of natural and revealed religion ; nor would any experience justify such an assertion. With us they are remarkably industrious and enterprising people, whose exer tions contribute, in no small degree to the wealth of the nation. They are swayed by the motives, and go verned by the same principles, as other men ; and are as benevolent and friendly to Christians, as Chris tians are to one another. There can be no objection, then, to their enjoving every right and privilege, and every opportunity of promotion to honor, except the appalling name of Jetv. Our faith would be in a miserable plight, if this were consi dered as an accusation of a crime ; lor our Saviour was a Jew, as well as the ancient lathers, whose names we revere, and whose writings we venerate. The authois of this re volting and disgusting system, scarcely deserve our charity—they sin against the most apparent light, and treat the most essential and sa cred privileges with scorn and con* tunicly. Now that the genius and science of our country, as one ex presses it, has a men like the sun irom the ocean and tinged the heav ens with its glory—now is r.o time for the tolerance of such dark and gloomy shades in our horizon.— One universal spirit of indignation —one universal fee.iug o [,, intent —should chive th e less beings iron; the face of ■ lar favor : and crush, forever 1 hope of future political ment. There is nothing a , such men would stop—\j lev , assume “■ The eye of saintly f|.. x “ And make lira-', not'sweet 'Ttui.li.Hi “ Y si II ol bioo.l. But we trust the patriotic , intelligence of our countrymen! prevent any effectual results the recent attempts—that press in the country will raise • voice against such monstrous ‘!” pou isy and presumption; and ft every enlightened citizen wilt his influence towards the ion of so much daring. The f stain should not be suffered t o i. main a moment on our annals t should be swept from them with the besom of indignation. |p t ’ shall the true light and spiritof our republican maxims shine more “! and our nation enjoy her glory. n. polluted. Mrs. K—— n,said to her hushar that if she died, rather than toliv single, he would marry, though ■ were to the Devil’s daughter! AT my clear,” said he, “ I should t chose to marry tw ice in the tsr family.” A dandy seeing a newly arrim Irishman passing, as he was walkinj up Main street, a few days since out, “ Arrah Pdt, what’s o'clock b? your red stockings r” “ Juststrikd one;”said paddy, at. the same the flooring the exquisite with his sliiUj, lain Literary Curiosity. —Now an<l theatrem with Ailin’ curious ietters. The followir.- i-ti, literal cojiy ol ii ratter sent to a medicil m tleman. not Car from Blackburn in Lancaosfei Englund. “ Cer,Yole oblige me us yole \m tin ce me I hevaßad cowl am Hi! in my Bowhills, and lost my Hr py Tight.” DEATH. There is at least one great casion in the life of every man. There is one decisive act that trie the spirit, and puts the cJestinieso the soul at issue. Neither th sceptic’s wavering confidence, nc the duellist’s blind temerity, be fits this dread solemnity. Th wretch that thrusts himself und ed for into his Maker's presena and the wretch who being called ii dares, without preparation, as without concern to enter it, desert alike our reprobation. The on resembles the maniack, who leap the precipice ; the other, these who staggers off it, regardless o its height, and unmindful of a shock that awaits his fall.—Fra such spectacles of self destruction the mind turns away with minglei emotions of pity and horror liow unlike the good man’s death Here there is real majesty. No thing below exceeds, nothingepali it. To see a human being crowded to the verge of life, and stands? on that line that connects and di vides eternity, and time, excites l solemn interest. But, 0! “- a ; words can express the grandtier oi the death scene, when the indivta ual about to make the dread expe riment, sensible of bis condition, and with heaven and hell, ard judgement, and eternity, fc” 11 view, is calm, collected, and relying on the merits Saviour, and the faithfulness 0 his God, is eager to depart! b haps the sainted Stephen, n™ heaven beaming from his counted ance, as shrinking underjthe En sure of his enemies; he raises * dying eyes to glory, saying,“f- 0 Jesus, receive my spirit.” ft l ” 3 '’ the Israclitish prophet, his consecrated mantle on l' lS r! pi 1, as he mounts the whirl' ,lD from the bank of the Jordant perhaps Saul ofTarshish, ing in the prospect of the T 5. martydom, “ I am ready t 0 offered up; I have fought inC £ fight; 1 have kept the there is henceforth laid up y- a crown of rigteousness, righteous Lord will and nor tome only, but to ad t-'- that love his appearing “ Mow our heurts burhwitliiii YY lienee tills brave hound oei la ll ' 1 man ! llis Lodsupports fiim in his find t |oU f‘ IDs final hour brings ;'lor> to his V* e <aze, we w f“V| mixed tears ol P 1 1” Yinfew rnent strikes; devot'oii him*’ Ulirislifuis admi;e, and iniidels bein'’ l'o imitate the best is the b imitation; and a resolution cel, is an excellent icsolutio 0.