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i—m —mn—iiwi ■ n i niM ■■■4i
POETRY.
SONG.
BY MRS. HEMANS.
If thou hast crusher! a flower,
The root may not he blighted,
If thou hast quenched a lamp,
Once more it may be lighted;
But on thv harp or orvthy lute,
The string which thou hast broken,
Shall never in sweet sound again
Give to thy touch a token!
If thou hast loosed a bird,
- Whose voice of song could cheer thee,
Still, still he may be won
From the skies to warble near thee;
Bu t if upon the t rcubled sea
Thou hast thrown a gem unheeded,
Hope not that wind or wave shall bring
The treasure back when needed.
If thou hast bruised a vine,
The summer’s breath is healing,
And its clusters yet may grow',
Through the leaves their bloom reveal*
mg;
But if thou hast a cup o’erthrown
With a bright draught tilled—oh! ne
ver
Shall earth give back that lavished wealth
To cool thy parch’d lip’s fever!
The heart is like that cup,
If thou waste the love it bore thee,
And like that jewel gone,
Which the deep will not restore thee;
And like that string of harp or lute
Whence the sweet sound is scattered;
Gently, oh! gently touch the chords
So soon forever shattered!
THE MOURNING WIDOW.
From Pollok’s Course of Time.
Look back, and one
Behold, who would not give her tear for all
The smiles that dance about the cheek of
Mirth.
Among the tombs she walks at noon of
night,
In miserable garb of widowhood.
Observe her yonder, sickly, pale and sad,
Bending her wasted body o’er the grave
Of him who was the husband of her youth.
The inoon-beams trembling thro’ these an
cient yews,
That stand like ranks of mourners round
the bed
Of death, fall dismally upon her face;
Her little, hollow, withered lace, almost
Invisible—so worn away with wo:
The tread of hasty loot, passing so late.
Disturbs her not; nor yet the roar of mirth,
From neighboring revelry ascending loud.
She hears, sees nought; fears nought; one
thought alone
Fills all her heart and soul; half hoping,
half
Remembering, sad, unutterable thought!
Uttered by silence, and by tears alone.
Sweet tears! the awful language eloquent
Of infinite affection; far too big-
For words. She sheds not many now: that
grass,
Which springs so rankly o’er the dead, has
drunk
Already many showers of grief: a drop
Or two" are all that now remain behind,
And from her eye, that darts strange fiery
beams,
At drearv intervals, drip down her cheek,
Falling most mournfully from bone to bone.
But yet sh'e wants not tears: that babe, that
hangs
Upon her breast, that babe that never saw
Its father—he was dead before its birth—
Helps her to weep, weeping before its time,
Taught sorrow by the mother’s melting
Voice,
Repeating oft the father’s sacred name.
Be not surprised at this expense of wo!
The man she mourns was all she called her
own:
The music of her ear, light of her oye;
Desire of all her heart; her hope, her tear:
The element in which her passions lived—
Dead now, or dying all. Nor long shall
sire
Visit that place of skulls: night after night,
She wears herself away: the moon-beam
now,
That falls upon her unsubstantial frame,
Scarce finds obstruction; and upon her
bones,
Barren as leafless bows in winter time,
Her infant fastens his little hands, as oft,
Forgetful, she leave him a while unheld.
But look,-she passes not away in gloom:
A light from far illumes her face; a light
That comes beyond the moon, beyond the
sun—
The light of truth divine; the glorious hope
Of resurrect'on at the promised morn,
And meetings then which ne’er shall part
again.
MATTHEW, CHAP. X.
■rs, Dc&A-aT X.
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Gooy (PT.O-OJI .?>P4<xa ipsjbrjrs.
THE TRUE HISTORY OF ROB
INSON CRUSO.
When Capt. W. Rogers with the
Duke and Duchess privateers of Bris
tol, went, in 1702, to cruise against
the Spaniards, in the South Seas, he
,found in the Island of Juan Fernandez
a man clothed in goat skins, who look
ed wilder than the original owners of
them. He had been left on the Island
four years and four months before, by
Capt. Strodling, of the ship called the
Cinque Ports, on account of a quarrel
between them. His name was Alex
ander Selkirk, and by the report of
Capt. Dampicr, then on board with
Rogers, ho was the best man in that
ship. During his abode on the island,
he saw several ships pass by, hut two
only came to On anchor, these were
Spaniards, some of whom landed, and
shot at him before he was aware of
them, so that he had much ado to es
cape—Had they been French, he
would have submitted to them; but
he rather chose to risk the chance of
dying in that desolate place, than trust
to those who he apprehended would
either murder, or send into the mines,
an)* stranger who had a knowledge of
the South Seas.
When he was put on shore,' he had
with him his clothes and bedding, a
firelock, a pound of powder, some
bullets, tobacco, a hatchet, a knife, a
kettle, a bible and some other books,
and mathematical instruments. He
diverted and provided for himself
as well as he could; but the first eight
months could scarcely support his spi
rits in a situation so forlorn, and so far
remote from all human beings. He
built himself two huts, with pimento
trees, covered them with long grass,
and lined them with the skins of goats
which he had killfcd with his gun, so
long as his powder lasted. When this
was exhausted, he procured fire by
rubbing two stick? of pomento wood
upon his knees. In his lesser hut,
which was at some distance from the
other, he dressed his provisions; in the
larger hut he slept, and employed
himself in reading, singing psalms, and
praying. At first he never ate any
thing, till hunger constrained him;
partly for want of bread and salt, and
partly for grief; nor did he go to bed
until be could watch no longer. The
pimento wood, which burnt very clear,
served him both for fire and candle,
and refreshed him by the fragrance of
its smell. He might have fish enough,
but could not eat it for want of salt,
cray fish excepted, which he found to
be agreeable, and as large as lobsters;
those he boiled or broiled as he did
his goat’s flesh; from the latter he
made excellent broth, as the goats
there are not so rank as those in Eu
rope. He kept an account of five
hundred that he killed while he was
there, and of as many more that he
caught, and turned loose -again, after
marking them on the ear.
His way of life, and his continual
exercise, improved his speed so much,
that, when his powder failed, he fair
ly ran the goats down. Capt. Rogers
sent several of his swiftest men, with
a bull-dog they had on hoard, to assist
Selkirk in goat-catching; but he tired
and distanced both the men and the
dog, and brought back the goat on his
back. He related that his agility in
pursuing a goat had once nearly proved
his destruction; for he pursued it with
so much eagerness, that he caught hold
of it at the brink of a precipice that
was hid from him by the bushes. He
fell down a great height; was stunned
by the fall; lay therb about twenty
four hours; and when he came to his
senses found the goat lying dead under
him; he w r as scarcely able to crawl to
his hut at about a mile distance, or to
stir abroad for ten days afterwards.—
At length he came to relish his meat
well enough without salt or bread; and
in the season found plenty of good tur
nips, which having been sown by Capt.
Dampier’s men, had overspread sev
eral acres of ground. He had enough
of good cabbage from the cabbage-
trees, and seasoned his meat with the
fruit of the pimento, which is the Ja
maica pepper. He soon ivore out
all his clothes and shoes by running in
the woods; so being forced at last to
shift without them, his feet became
so hard, that it was with difficulty he
could reconcile himself again to shoes,
which made his feet swell when he
first put them on.
He was at first much pestered with
cats and rats, that had got on shore
from the ships that wooded and wa
tered there; but by cherishing the cats,
many of which became so tame that
they would lie about him in hundreds,
he was quickly delivered from the
rats.
He also tamed some kids for his a-
musement, so that he began to con
quer the inconveniences of solitude,
and grew very easy in his circumstan
ces.
He supplied his worn out clothes
by a cap and a coat Qf goat-skin.
stitched together with thongs of the
same. He had no other needle hut a
nail; and when his knife was worn to
the back, he made ofhers as well as
he could out of some iron hoops left
on shore, which he beat thin and
ground upon stones. Having some
linen cloth by him, he sewed him some
shirts with a nail, stitching them with
the worsted of his old stockings, which
he pulled out on purpose. He had
his last shirt on when he came first on
board, had so much forgot his language
by disuse, that he uttered his words
by halves, and could scarcely*be un
derstood. —
GENERAL SPECTACLE OF THE U-
N1VERSE.
“There is a God. The grass of
the valley and the cedars of the moun
tain bless him. The insect hums his
praises. The elephant salutes him at
the dawn of day. The bird sings for
him under the foliage. Thunder dis
plays his power, and the ocean de
clares his immensity. It is man a-
lone, who hath said there is no God!”.
It may be said, that man is the man
ifest thought of God, and that the uni
verse is his imagination rendered sen
sible. Those who have admitted the
beauty of nature as a proof of a supe
rior intelligence, should have remark
ed a circumstance, which prodigious
ly aggrandizes the sphere of miracle?.
It is, that movement and repose, dark
ness and light, the seasons, the march
of the stars, with diverse decorations
of the world, are successive only in
appearance, in reality are permanent.
The scene, which is effaced for us, is
re-painted for another people. It is
not the spectacle, but only the spec
tator, who hath changed. God hath
known a way, in which to unite,.abso-
lute and progressive duration in his
work. The first is placed in time;
the. second in space. By the former,
the beauties of the universe are one,
infinite, always the same. By the oth
er, they are multiplied, finished and
renewed. Without the one, there
would have been no grandeur in the
creation. Without the other, it
would have been all monotony. In
this way, time appears to us in a new
relation. The least of its fractions
becomes a complete whole, which
comprehends every thing, and in
which all things are modified, from
the death of an insect to the birth of
the world. Every minute is in itself
a little eternity. Bring together then,
in thought the most beautiful accidents
of nature. Suppose you see at the
same time the hours of day and all the
seasons; a morning of spring and a
morning of autumn; a night bespangled
with stars, and a night covered with
clouds; meadows enamelled with flow
ers, and forests robbed of their foliage
by storms; plains covered with spring
ing corn, and gilded with harvest.—
You will then have a just idea of the
universe.
Is it not astonishing, that while you
admire the sun, sinking under the ar
ches of the west, another beholder
observes him springing from the re
gions of the morning? By what in
conceivable magic is it, that this an
cient luminary that reposes, burning
and fatigued in the dust of the evening,
is the same youthful planet, that a-
vvakens, humid with dew under the
whitening curtains of the dawn? At
every moment in the day the sun is
rising, in the zenith, or setting in
some portion of the world; or rather,
our senses mock us; and there is nei
ther east, nor meridian, nor west.
Can we conceive, what would be
the spectacle of nature, if it were a-
bandoned to simple movements oi‘mat
ter? The clouds, obeying the law's of
gravity, would fall perpendicularly on
the earth; or w r ould mount in pyramids
into the upper regions of the air.—
The rpoment after, the air would be
come too gross, or too much rarified
for the organs of respiration. The
moon, too near, or distant from us,
would be at one time invisible, and at
another would show herself all bloody,
covered with enormous spots, or fil
ling with her extended orb all the ce
lestial dome. As if possessed with
some wild vagary, she w r ould either
move upon the line of the ecliptic, or,,
changing her side, would at length
discover to* us her face,- which the
earth has not yet seen. The stars
would show themselves stricken with
the same vertigo, and would hencefor
ward become a collection of terrific
conjunctions. On a sodden, the con
stellation of summer w r ould be de
stroyed by that of winter. Bootes
W’ould lead the Pleiades; and the Li
on Tvould roar in Aquarius. There,
the stars would fleet away w r ith the
rapidity of lightening. Here theA
would hang motionless. SometimA
crowding into groups, they would for A
a new milky way. v Again disappear®;
ing altogether, and rending asundA
the curtains of worlds, they would 0 A
pen to the view the abysses of etemA
ty. But such spectacles will neveA
terrify men, before that day, whA
God, quitting the reins, will need A
other means of destroying the system®
than abandon it to itself.—ChateaubrA
and. <
Tht Printer's Devil.—The name oA
this mysterious personage has ion®
been much handled about by printers'®
greatly to their own amusement, but®
frequently to the wonder of sundA
unitiated readers. At the request o®
a correspondent who has desired a A
explanation of the term, we havel
looked into the fact with some careA
and the folloiving is the result of oujfj
research. H
“In the tenth year of his reign®
f!74QU the first book printed i®
France was executed at Paris by®
Uberic Gering. The art of printing, jj
which has had so powerful an influ.
ence on the improvement of the hu* fa
man mind, and in the reformation of|§
government and religion, known tora
the Chinese, in a rude, though efficient®
mode, upwards ol a thousand years H
before, was re-discoyered, it is gen*B
crally agreed, by Jpurentius Koster®
a wealthy citizen* Hserlem, in Hoi-■
land, about the year 1430. Lauren* i
tius, it is stated by an early writer ont!
the discovery of printing, whe» walk* j
ing in a wood; picked up a small bough ik'
of a tree, Tvhich had been broken off |
by the wind. He then sat down and I
amused himself by cutting upon it I
some letters, and wrapped up in an
piece of paper the part which he had [I
thus engraved. He afterwards fell a-
sleep, and when he awoke, lie per
ceived that the paper, having been j
moistened from a shower of rain, had 1
received an impression from the let
ters, which induced him to pursue
the accidental discovery, he applied
it to printing. Laurentius, however, 1
proceeded no further than to the use
of xvooden blocks, in the manner of
stereotype. To this incipient mode
an improvement was made by two
brothers, named Genisfleiche, or Get-
teinburg, who had been in the em
ployment of Laurentius, and after his
death carried off his printing blocks
to Mcntz, in Germany; where they
succeeded in forming separate metal
types, with engraved faces. But the
art was yet far from being completed.
It seems to have been brought nearly
to its present state of perfection, by
Peter Schoeffer, of the latter city;
who, in the year 1456, cast a fount of
types from matrices, or moulds, pre
viously cut with the several letters.
With this invention, John Faustvs,
now his partner, but formerly his em*-
ployer, was so much pleased, that he-
gave the ingenius artist his only daugh
ter in marriage.
In the year 1460, Faustus, (or
Faust as he is sometimes called,) and
his partner Schoeffer printed an edi
tion of the Bible. This was a very
expensive work, and was five years in
the press. It was this edition, aB
some authors relate, of which Faustus
carried a number of copies to Paris;
where he sol'd them, first for six hun
dred, then for five hundred crownfc
each; which were the prices common
ly given to the scribes, for very ele
gant copies of the scriptures: he af
terwards, by degrees, reduced the
price to thirty crow'ns. It is said that
purchasers were ignorant that 4hese
copies vvere printed; and that it was
the policy of Faustus to make them
believe that they were written.-They
were an exact imitation of the best
manuscripts. As he lowered his price,
his sales increased, and people were
astonished at his producing copies as
fast as they were w r anted. When he
reduced the price to thirty crowns,
all Paris was amazed, both on ac
count of the uniformity and the quan
tity produced. It was believed that
he had made a league with the devil;
and he was accused of being a magi
cian. The Catholic clergy were a*
larmed, as they feared the Scriptures
would get into the hands of laymen.—
His lodgings were searched by the
police—several Bibles w'ere found,
and the red ink with which the illumi
nators had made the great capitals at
at the beginning of each chapter, was
pronounced to be his blood. Faustus
fled, and escaped the death which a-
waits such hapless victims of super
stition; and from this story originated
the story of “the Devil and Doctor
Faustus.”— Phil. Ariel.