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DARIEN GAZETTE.
Vol. VI.
From the National Gazette.
Not long since, two of the most dis
tinguished of the French literati, Mes
srs, Jouy and Jay, were sent to the pri-
I son of St. Pelagie, for an obnoxious al-
I lusion to certain proceedings in one of
I the French criminal courts. While in
I confinement they wrote essays, which
i they have since published. One of these
I relates the visits of the female friends
1 and relatives of ffeeir fellow prisoners.
| The following extract from it furnishes
I some attractive pictures'*
’ *‘The saloon of St Pelagie presents
I on the Thursdays and Sundays of every
| week a spectable well the obsei; T
H vafion of every friend of the sex. These
f two days are the only ones on which per-
I sons who are confined for crimes pro-
I perly deserving correction are permit
ted to receive the visits of their friends
or relations.
‘The first remark which one is com
pelled to make, and to which, indeed,
the whole of tfiis chapter may serve as
a commentary, is, that at these meet
ings women are found to be much more
[ numerous than men. I have often pro
longed my stay in this assembly, more
i noisy than brilliant, for the purpose of
contemplating its general appearance,,
and the particulars which compose it.
‘Education and the various ranks in
society establish certain distinctions a
mong men, which are less strong
ly marked among women, and which
are often entirely effaced by two senti
ments, which seem to be part ofjhem
selves—pity and love. Among the un
happy persons whom they arqj|mgagec!
in succouring they are by
their dress alone: they all seem lo*os
sess in the same degree the-charming
faculty of anticipating the tastes, of sup
porting the courage, of managing the
selflove of those to whom their affec
tions link them; in a word, of pouring
ovey the wounds erf (hyp hd&rt that balm
which their ingenious tenderness cart
alone prepare. These moi al cares are
far superior to the physical care and
material attentions which they
with no less profuse generosity *
‘Among the women with whom I
have occasionally passed some hours on
the visiting day, a young girl was poin
ted out to me, who, for the last three
years, had come from Nanterre twice
every wee\ on loot, and in all weathers,
to bring her lover some small cakes
made in that part of the country, and of
which he was exti*emejy fond. To-day*
he was scolding her for coming in such
bad weather; and I listened with some
emotion to all the little .falsehoods
which her heart prompted her to invent
for the purpose of diminishing the mer
it of her devotedness. It did not rain
when she sate off; when the rain did be
gin, she had the good fortune to meet
with Dame Francoise, and that good
old milk-woman had carried her in her
little covered cart to the Boulevard de
la Madeleine; “and as she spoke she
wiped her drenched clothes, and made
a sign to an old man who accompanied
her, not to contradict her story.
‘On another bench I saw a woman,
still possessing* some pretentions to
beauty, although in the decline of life
who pressed her son to her bosom with
on expression ofgriefand tenderness to
which no description can do justice;
her husband turned away his face, filled
with contempt and anger, front a son
for whom he was compelled to blush
and the mother took advantage of this
opportunity to slip into the young
man’s hand a little purse, which she
dretv from her bosom.
‘I know not by what indication I re
cognised the delicate and different
shades of the same sentiment by which
the countenances of ail these women
were animated: mothei, daughter, wife,
.ov misttess, I distovei ed them, however
all at the fiist glance. 1 should not, in
deed, had to boast much ot my
perspicacity if it had been exercised up
on4wbjects so obviously intelligible as
a very pretty young woman, who had
taken possession, with the man whom
she had come to visit, of the darkest
corner dfthe I only observed that
it would have ® n impossible to ocr
cupy less space than was taken up by
this sentimental couple.
“Maternal tenderness,filial piety,lo v e,
benevolence, Sc friendship,were the vir
tues of which, the woman here present
offered me innumerable examples; hut
there are othersofa kind which isiiiore
foreign from the sex—such as patrio
tism, courage, and honor (in the chiva
lioiis sense which belongs to the word,)
in which the souls oi some women have
DARIEN, (geokgia,) THURSDAY, APRIL 1, 1824.
been exalted to the very height of hp
• roishn. I Will mention ohe only, which
■ my residence at St. Pelagie hasr made
• me Acquainted with: Madame ’s
• letter, which I copy here, will ren
der any further explanation unnecessa
i ry.
“You know how much I love you,
: my cares have secured your life, but
you are now accused of having acted as
an agent in exciting the affair which is
at this moment a subject of inquiry in
the Chamber of peers; return, then, anc
give yourself up as a prisoner, since
there are no other means of removing
the imputation of having committed a
base action—•■your judges are men,and
although I am convinced of your inno
cence as far as regards the conspiracy,
I am far from being satisfied of the re
sult of your trial. You may loose
your life, but I know your heart; and I
know that you will not for a moment ba
lance such a sacrifice with the loss of
your honor, of mine, and of that of our
children.”
‘The wish of this noble and courage
ous woman was accomplished; her hus
band returned; he was tried; the odious
suspicion which had rested upon lug
name was.removed for ever,%nd the
sentence which deprived him of his li
berty for a time, lefi him, in the tender
affection of his wife, an ample recom
lence for all that he had lost besides.’
*#** * * *
‘My observations at St. have
only furnßhed some additional proofs
to support this consolatory truth; the
Arbiter of human destiny has! placed in
the heart of woman—in her. generous
care, in her tender solicitude—a com
pensation for all the griefs, all the dan
gers, and all the evils oflife.”
HINTS FOR A MORAL CATECHIS^.
Q. What are friends made of? A.
Persons who can please or serve each
other.
Where can I get them? Every
jvhere, ifyou have rank, influence, or
Will they brenin V/mvaa xix KSJ Tim -4-
tual’y bend, they must break very soon.
What are enemies made of? The
most bitter of friends.
What are they good for? To,weary
us,of earth and make us endeavor to
fit ourselves for heaven.
What does‘enough* mean? A little
more than we have. i
Where can I get it? I never knew
any body who had it.
What is experience made of? Ob
servation on other people’s mistakes,
and theyremembrance of suffering from i
our own.
What is it good for? Tomakl*dis
appointment bearable.
What is lovc ? An illusion; a dream
from which we awake dissatisfied.—
Important, only when it concerns our
selves, ridiculous when we observe it
in others.
Can it be bought? No; but though
extremely precious, it is generally;
thrown away. When it is offered, if is I
genuine; when asked, the commodity j
rendered will generally be found to be i
gratitude.
Where does it come from ? Heaven; j
if pure, it mounts thither again. It is i
too exquisite for earth, and seldom \
rests on it long. j
What is courage made of? The i
feai of contempt.
What is it good for? Self preser- !
vation and the protection ofothers.
What is justice? The principle
and cause of all virtue, as light is the
principle and cause of all color.
Can it be sold? Yes, but is very
dear:
What is politeness? The art of a
voiding unnecessary pain.
What is flattery? The art of dJP)
ceiving others in order to ingratiate
ourselves in their opinion.
What is hope made of? Our wish
es—it dances before our path, but flies
when we attempt to grasp it; like the
rainbow, which seems to rest on earth, j
but is only the creation of our vision.
What is disappointment made of?
Hope.
Where can I get it? Every where,
if you take imagination and passion as
your guides.
What is pity? The uneasy sen
sation we feel when we look at suf-.
feting.
W hat is it good for? Nothing, un
less accompanied by active benevo- j
lence.
What is mischief? The wit of lools,
What is punning? The folly of wit. |
Prom the Portland Advertiser.
Useful Rules for a certain kind of
Ifouse-wives.
1. When you rise in the morning,
never be p articular about pinning on
your clothes so very nicely; you can
do that at any time. >
2. Never comb your hair, or take
off your night cap till alter breakfast.
>lt is your business to take time by the
foretop, and not let him take you so:
therefore keep all tight in that quarter
till 10 o’clock at least.
3. When you begin the business of
your toilet you may do it before the
window or in the front entry; but the
most proper place is in the kitchen.
4. Never have any particular place
for any thin# in vour house; and sftui
you may rest assured, that nothing wih
ever be out of place: and that is a great
comfort in a family.
5. Never sweep your flflkr, until
you know some person is coming in:
he will then see how neat you are: and
besides, in such cas. s, even your ene
mies cannot shake off the dust of their
feet, against you; though they may the
dust of their clothes with which you
have cohered them by your sweeping.
6. When you have done sweeping,
leave your broom on the floor: it will
then be handy; and, being always in
sight and in the way, it will be con
stantly reminding your husband, when
he is in the house, what a smart , nice ,
pains-taking wife he has.
7. Never tollow the barbarous prac
tice of brushing down cobwebs.— A
man's house is his castle: and so is a
spider’t: —lt is a viola'ion ot right:
and a shameiessvsdisiespect to the fine
arts. ‘
* 8 * Keep your parlour and bed room
windows shut as close as possible in
dog days; this will keep Urn hot air out,
and you will have excellent fixed air
inside. < >
9. Keep your summer cheeses inyour
bed effembers: they enrich the quali
ties of the atmosphere; and if a stran
ger should lodge in one of your
if Ire shftuld not sleepy he couur cru, ‘*
his ,^fpe BhTtittach 8 hTtitt a ch y OUt , [laughters tq
make 5r mend any of their own clothes;
it is “taking the bread from the mouth
of labor:” besides, it will make them
crooked and give them sore fingers.
11. But if they should insist on mend
ing own garments, they should
do it while they are on: this will make
them fit better, & the girls can’t leave
their work; if they should attempt it
their work would follow them.
A2. If your husband’s coat is out at
one of the elbows, don’t mend it until
it is out at the other; then the patches
will make it appear uniform , and shew
that you are impartial.
13. “Never spoil a joke for a rela
tion’s sake;” nor surpress the truth for
any body's sake. Therefore, if you
don’t like your husband as well as you
ought, out with it, and convince him
you areno respecter of persons.
14. endeavor not to keep j
your temper—let it of’ as soon and as
fast as you can, and you will then be
as calm and quiet as a Lottie of&klrt
after the cork has been drawn naif a
day.
15. If on any particular occasion,
yoif are at a loss as to the couise you
ought to pursue irf*!fhe management
lof you. or your family affairs, take
down the paper which contains th*se
Rules, and lead them over and ovei
till you have satisfied your mind —and
then go on Poor Rickard.
FEMALE INFLUENCE,
fit is*well known that the Task, the
mpst classical and most admired of all
Cooper’s works, was writren at the par
ticular request of a female friend.—
i Perhaps it is not so generally known,
that to the same source we are indebt
ed for Milton’s sublime poem of Para
dise Lost. Milton, when a student at
Cambridge, was extremely handsome.
One day in the summer, overcome
j with heat, and fatigued with walking.!
he laid himself down at the foot of a!
tree and slept. During his sleep, two
ladies passed bv in a carriage. Toe
beauty of the ydiiiig student attracted
their attention; they got out of theii
cat riage, and aftsr having contemplat
ed his beauty some time, without his
waking, the youngest lady, who was
very (.andsome, took a pencil Jrom iter
pocket and wrote some lines mi a piece
jof paper, and tremblinglv t>ut them
into his hand. The ladies hen return
ed to their carriage, ant! passed on.—
j Milton’s fellow-students, who were
seeking lor him, observed (his silent
scene at a distance, without knowing
it io be him who was sleeping; on ap
proaching, and know ing the ir assoc iaie,
they waked him,and told him what had
passed. He opened the pa; e- which
was in his hand, and read, io his gre at
astonishment,these lines fromUuatina;
Occhi stelia mortaili
Ministri de inici mail,
Ic chit&i m’ucedite,
Appeiti che faiete?
Which may be thus translated—
“ Beautiful eyes! mortal stsfts! ami ois
of my misfortune! if you wound.’ I tog
closed, what would ye do if ..pen?”
Tliis stiange adventure awakened
Milton’s sen-ibiiity; and from that mo
ment, full of the desire of finding the
unknown fait, he some years after
wards travelled through Italy His
ideas of her (says our anthoi ) wotked
incessantly on his imagination, and
to this incident is England chiefly in
debted for Paradise Lost.
FBOM THE KEW-TOHK AMERICAN. t
Gentlemen— The following, from
sad experience , I know to be true;as
holy writ: if you think prcpt-i to in
sert it in your paper, you will <^ 4 ige
If you wish to be always tfiir sgg| be.a
drunkard, lor toe often? i atftnioro
you drink, th*> ofienet and non e thirs
ty you wiil be.
If you seek ;o prevent your friends
fictn raising you ir: the world, be a
drunkard, for that will detea an tl tip
efforts
If you would effectually counteract
you. own attempts to do well, bv a
drunkard, arid you will*not be disap
pointed.
If you wish to repel the endeavors
of the whole human race to raise you
to character, credit and prosperity, be
a drunkard, and you will most assured
ly triumph.
If you are determined io be poor,
fefggdtMirfraprf. and you will soon be
If you wish to starve your family,
be a drunkard, for that will consume
the means of their stippon.
If you would be imposed un by
knaves be a drunkard, for that will
make their task easy.
If you wish to be robbed, be a drunk
ard, which will enable the thief to do it
with more safety.
IJ you wish to blunt your senses, be
a drunkard# and you will soon lose your
understanding.
If you wish to unfu you? self fei ra
tional intercourse, be a drunkard , for
that wiil render you wholly unfit tor it.
If you are resolved io kill yourself
be a drunkard, that being a sure mode
of destruction.
If you w ould expose both your folly
and secres, be a s drunkard, ans .fi y
will soon run out as the liquor runs >n.
If vou think you are too &1101 R I'ta
drunkard, and you w ill soon be subdued
hr s > .wti fni an enemy.
If you would gel ‘id of your roomy
wii.ioui knowing how, be a dru kard%
and r will vanish insensible
IJ you w ould have no lesource w, en
pasi labor, be a drunkard, and you will
be unable to provide any.
If you would be apc si :r. socitiy bo
a drunkard, and you will be avoided
as infectious
It vou m ish io be wretched hete.and
most misc able hr rearer, he a drunk
ard, so you most certainly win be.
%
Anecdote.- \s fl; passti.gt sofa
Stage wet about# dine at ih, S ago
House, one of the guests look op*ii©
pepper-box from a caster, am 1 nicely
sifted it over afinepieit of roasted o es.
A French gentleman observing ii dclib
eiaitiy look his snuff box from is
pocket, and bespiinkleU is contents
likewise ovei ‘tie same pn -e of beef.
•Si ;” sai I the fi s.t pa"> “what did
you mean?” “Why, s< . i suppose sar,
I you io’ ede pope* 1 sai , love de snuff.”
; The table wer. ibrown into a roai and
| willingly consented io commute ilieir
roasted beef for ihe amusement tho
manner ol its loss occasioned.
Os all passions, jealousy is that which
exacts ‘he hardest vice, and pays the
j bitterest wages. Its service is to watch
the success of oui enemy; its w ages to
i be sure of it.
He that liveth in pleasure, is d©&4
, while he liveth; but h<- that resisted!
i pleasures, crowneth his life,
No. 11.