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WATCH
BT THE LATE JoH-N M*SOH GOOD,
M. D. F. R. S.
Life is a sea,—how fair its lace,
How smooth its -li,ipHng wateis pace,
Its canopy how pure!
B it rocks hoi nv ami tempests sleep,
Insi'lious, o’er the glassy deep,
Nor leave an hour secure.
Life is a wilderness,—beset
W.th tangl'n^ thorns, an 1 treach’rous, et
And prow” ! bv blasts of prey,
One path alone con lucts aright,
On** na row path w ; th little lightj
A thousand lea l astray.
Life is a warfare,—and alike
Prepared to parlev, or to strike,
Practised fo'-s draw nigh,
Oil hold no tvuc r ! los* :!angerous far
To stand and all his phalanx dare,
Than trust his specious lie.
What^r its forms, what' ’or its flow,
Wliat life is lent toman b low,
One fluty stands confest,—
To watch incessant, firm of mind,
An 1 watch what e’er the post ass.gu’d,
And leave to God the rest,
’Twas while they watch’d the shepherd
swarns
K 'ard ang“lsstrike to ang n l strains
• The song of heavenly love;
B *st harmonv! that far eve els
A’’ music else on 'arth that dwells,
O" e’er was tun’d above.
’Twas whde they watch’d the sages trac’d
Th-' „tar, that ever • star pflac’d
W‘th new an 1 noh!°r shine;
They followed and it led the way
To where th° n :ant Saviour lay,
And gave them light divine.
‘Twas while they watched, with lamp in
hand,
And oil well stor’d, th° virgin hand
The bridal poirm descried;
Th°v join’! it,—and th-' heavenly gate,
That op’d to them its glorious state,
Was clos’d on all beside.
Watch! watch! and pray! in suffering
hour,
Thus he exclaim’!, who felt its power,
And triumphed in the strife.
V’c.tor of death! thv voice I hear
Fa ; i would I watch with holy fear,
Wool 1 watch and pray though life’s
career,
And only cease with life.
Frornth" New York Courier..
HEBREW.—Isaiah lxiv.,—11.
HOW proudly burst the golden light of
day
lJoonthe teinola where Jehovah stood;
H >w softlv twilight flung its parting ray
Upon his altar’s holy solitude!
For there, commingling, bright, the sun
beam met
Its essence in the day-spring of the sky,
His flat warm j its goi Ipd glory yet.
But thme; my land, was quench’d in
agony.
Yet when from yonder broad blue arch of
Heaven
I see the storm-cloud roll its gloom away,
Sha!' I not dr*am of thee, as free, forgiven,
Th in’t start to more than glory’s primal
day,
Ob n^ver does the br°eze of oepan h»ar
Th’ fragrance of thy desolated shore,
Bat with its sigh, my country, thine is
th^re,
And thy sal murmur sweeps the waters
o’er.
f cannot mingle with th° breath of flowers
One thought of loveliness not born of
thee,
l cannot tread the sweet and laughing
bowers.
And e’er forget thee, in their revelry;
Oh no! thv broken shrines, thy blacken’d
towers,
That rose s0 proudly by fair Galilee,
Coino coldly on the brightness of those
hours
And from them all 1 turn to sigh for thee.
NORNA.
Lines addressed by Lord Byron to his
wife, on the 15th Feb. 1826, being the sixth
anniversary of their wedding day—Ad
dressed, hut not in fact sent to her.
This flay, of all, hath surely done
Its worst to me and you;
’Tis now six years since we were one,
And live since we were two.
A SCHOOLMASTER, “BOARD
ING ROUND.”
Extract from the Journal of a Vermont
schoolmaster, published in a Vermont
paper.
Monday.—Went to board at Mr.
B ’s had a baked goose for dinner;
supposed from its size, tbe thickness
of its skin, and other venerable ap
pearances, to have been one of the first
settlors of Vermont—made a slight im
pression on tbe patriarch’s breast.—
Supner—cold goose and potatoes'
family consisting, of the man, good
wife, daughter Peggy, four boys.
Pompey, the dog, and a brace of cals
—fire built in the square room about
9 ’clock, and a pile of wood lay by tbe
fire place, saw Peggy scratch her fill
ers, and could’nt take the hint—felt
squeamish about the stomach, and
alked about goidgto b ed; Peggy look* -
. *d sullen, and put out tho fire in the
square room; went to bed and drem-
tfd of having emeu a quantity ol sUue
wall.
Tuesday.—Cold gander for break-
last, swamp Lea and some nut cahjes;
the latter some consolation. Diijner
—the log, Oto. cold; went to bej as
Peggy was carrying tire to the square
room—dreamed t was a mud turtle,
and got on my back and could not get
over again.
Wednesday.—Cold gander for break
fast; complained of sickness, and could
eat notion:;
Dinner—wings, of
the gander warmed up; did my best to
destroy them for fear they should be
left for supper; did not succeed;
dreaded supper all the afternoon.
Supper—hot Jonny cakes, and no
goose; felt greatly relieved, thought 1
had got clear of the gander, and went
to bed ior a good night s rest; disap
pointed; very cold night, and could’nt
keep warm; got up and stopped the
broken windows with my coat and
vest; no use, froze the tip of my nose
before morning.
Thursday.—Breakfast—cold gan
der again; felt very much discouraged
to see the gander not half gone; went
a visiting for dinner and supper; slept
abroad, and bad pleasant dream.
Friday. — Breakfast abroad. Din
ner al M . B 1 s; cold gander and
hot potatoes; last very good; eat three,
and went to school quite contented.—
Supper—cold gander and no potatoes;
bread heavy and dry; had the head
ache and couid lit eat; Peggy inlcli
concerned; had a'lire built in ill e
square room, and thought she aid 1
had better si; there out of the nose;
went to lied early; Peggy thoughUoo
much sleep bad for the headache.
Saturday—Breakfast—cold gaijler
and hot Indian Jonny; did very nidi;
glad to come off so—dinner—cold fan
cier ag^in; did nt keep school tliij af
ternoon; weighed, and found I liai^losl
six pounds the past week: grevi a-
larmed; had a talk with Mr. B, and
concluded I bad boarded out bis
share.
from Vermonf, which interested me f
so uiucli, tual 1 have thought it would
be acceptable to your readers, and
miglil muuce some persons, when un
der strong temtations to steal, to in
quire tonal wui it costl
A w ell dressed man called at the
tavern of Mr. B. oi YV. hi New-
Hauipshire, and asked the landlord
whether he kept that house a year be
fore. ivir. If. toid him lie did. Then
sir, said be, 1 want to speak with you
asiue. The tavern keeper followed
the man into the further part of his
btin, when, with shame depicted in
lul lace, and embarnssuient in bis man
tlet, the silanger took from his pock
ety silver spoon, and told him that a-
bolt a year before he breakfasted at
his muse, and stole the spoon he then
hel iu Ins hand. That he, soon alter
i oi milling the theft, mounted his
hoi e and rode ofi; but had not gone
tar before he was strongly inclined Jo
l et i n and replace the spoon on the ta
ble that fe„r of being seen prevented
his oing it. He rode on, continually
looi ng over his shoulder, to see if an*
oHi ir were not in pursuit of him. At
leni li he alighted and buried the
spoil under a bridge, thinking he
slio Id, by so doing, escape detection,
iiudthe landlord would uol bt' muck in-
jurjd ky so small a theft. The man
welt home to Connecticut; but peace
of wind be had lokt, and could not
linfl it again at home. After enduring
mental torment for a whole year, lie
came to himself,” and resolved to
return to New-Hnmpshire, and con
fess his fault, and make restitution.
The landlord asked the penitent stran
ger if he was poor. He said lie was
not—that he possessed a large estate,
and needed nothing this world afforded
—that now the spoon was restored,
he could breath freely again, if the
landlord would forgive him. The inn
keeper gave him his hand, and com
pelled him to come in, and tarry at
liis house a night without expense.
New-Ewrland Palladium.
THE STRENGTH OF THE DRUNK
ARD’S AP PETlTE.
A few years ago, a tippler was put
into almshouse in a populous town in
Massachusetts. Within a few days,
he had devised various expedients to
procure rum, but failed. At length,
however, lie hit upon one which prov
ed successful. He went into tbe
wood-vard of the establishment,
placed his hand on a block, and with
an axe in the other, struck it off at a
single blow. With the stump raised
and streaming, he ran into the house,
crying, “get me some rum, get some
rum, my hand is off.” in tile confu
sion and bustle of the occasion, a bowl
of rum was brought, into which he
plunged the bleeding member of his
body, then raising the bowl to his
mouth, drank freely, and exulting ex
claimed, “now I am satisfied.”
In another populous town in the
same Slate there lived an habitual
drinker, who in an interval ol' reflec
tion, made a vow that he would drink
no more spirits for forty years, not
doubting at the time, that forty years
would place him in his grave. He
faithfully kept his vow, and at the ex
piration of the stipulated period, ven
tured ro take a little liquor, as it
seemed no more than a salutation giv
en to an old acquaintance, ami in no
very long time died a sot.
I once knew a man, who had been
for some times, in a habit of intemper
ate drinking, and who had, at times,
strong remonstrances of conscience.
These admonitions, together with the
motives and encouragement held up to
him by his kind and good wife, induc
ed him to make a solemn vow, “that
by the help of God, he would never
drink any thing stronger than beer, un
less prescribed lor him as a medicine
by a physician.” He regarded the
vow, became sober and apparently
religious; for several years sustained
the character of a devout man. At
lentrtli lie lost by degrees, his reli
gious sensibility, grew dull and stupid,
heedless alike of religious duty and of
the daily attentions to business neces
sary for the support of his family, and
eventually died besotted with rum.—
When warned of his danger, soon af
ter it was known that he had return
ed to his cups, he assigned as a reason,
the prescription of a physician, which
was made on his application for re
lief from mild dyspepsia.
JWusseifs Address.
POWER OF CONSCIENCE.
Mr. Editor—-The following story
was told me, yesterday, hy a friend
EXAMINATION OF A MUMMY.
From a Pari-, Paper.
A few days ago one of the Mummies
iu the Museum of the Louvre was o-
peued. It was one of the finest oi tlie
valuable collection made by Itie Chev
alier Drovetti. According to the hi
eroglyphic inscriptions, this mummy,
ivtiicfi was lhe embalmed body ol
Noute Mai (tbe beloved of the Goes,)
had been during a few years, one of'
the priests ol Ammon. it was en
closed m a kind oi pasteboard, richly
ornamented on the outside with figures
of gods and symbolical animals. The
preservation of this funerai covering
vva# perfect, it having been originally
proieeled by two vvooden coffins, m
which the mummy was conveyed to
Paris. The paste, hoard was untouch
ed by decay, and in the same condi
tion as when it first came from the
hands of the embalmers. As soon as
it wits opened, the minute pains which
the Egyptians bestowed upon the ar
rangement of their mummies was ob
servable. The successive enrollment
of the cloth and ligatures which
hound the body, manifested the vari
ous operations which were gone
through by the embalmers, and of
which the following is the description:
1st. After the process of desiccation
by the natron had been finished, the
dead hotly, enveloped in a sheet, had
been plunged into a vessel of bitumen
which penetrated every part in such a
mainer as to form, in crystallizing, a
bed of solid bitumen surrounding both
the body and the sheets in which it
was wrapped. The back of the head
had alone been exempt from immer
sion in this penetrating liquid. 2d.
After the immersion, each member
had keen enveloped in bandages—the
lingers first, then the arms and the
legs,separately, and lastly, the entire
body, which, by means of different
pieces of linen placed upon the front
of tlie neck, the breast, the loins, the
abdemen, and upon the outside of the
arml and the thighs, &e. and kept firm
in their places by innumerable turns
of tie bandages, preserved the just
proportions of the living body. This
dressing concealed the excessive nica-
greness of the corpse, which was, in
reality, reduced to skin and bone by
the natron.
When the body was completely un
robed, the bend was discovered to
have been shaved, a custom which lit
erary antiquities, as well as ancient
monuments, prove to have been adop
ted by the Egyptian priests. The
teeth remained in their place, and an
attentive examination showed that the
individual had been e.bout 40 years of
age when he died. A leaf of gold cav*
tied the mouth; a plate ol silver lay
upon the breast, anti scraps of color
ed leather hung from ihe shoulders.
The cavities of the eyes were filled
with plugs of linen, which, like the
bandages, had been soaked in oil of
cedar, a celebrated preservative a-
agaiust corruption. The interior of
the head was empty, but the envelope
ol the brain was preserved. Drops
ol pure bitumen, of extreme brill
iancy, and some thickness, were found
upon the breast, between the thighs,
and upon other parte of the body.
DR. BRUNO.
We are indebted to a iriend for the follow
ing Interesting Extract from a Lettci
dateu Liverpool, May 10, 1828.—Pan
dect.
His (lord Byron’s) constant com
panion In Greece was Dr. Bruno, a
Physician who entered fully into the
Deislical and Atheistical notions oi
lord Byron: he was skilled in ever)
branch of science and learning, and ac
quainted with almost ail languages,
and with the best authors in each lan
guage. He had been educated iu ai.
mummeries of Italian popery, and in
it saw an absurdity %t which his whole
soul revolted: he therefore looked up
on religion as an artifice to keep in
awe the vulgar: but the death of Ins be
loved Lionel was a stroke to him which
lie could not bear: on surveying his
corpse, he saw that all that scintilla
tion of wit, all that strength of intel
lect, all that halo oi glory which his
admirer threw arounu lnm, was whol
ly extinguished, and that for ever, as
regards this world. In a paroxysm oi'
grief Dr. Bruno tore himselt away
iroin Greece and retired to Geneva,
there to endeavor to soothe his deep
ly wounded spirit; providentially he
fell into company of an English Mis
sionary, who urged him to read the
Scriptures (the book of all others he
had most neglected) that 1 e might
learn from it resignation to the divine
will in all its allotments. Thus lead
ing and intercourse with the pious
teacher, at length brought Dr. Bruno
lo lay all his learning and attainments
at the foot of the cross, and to deter
mine himself to become a preacher of
tlie Gospel ne had once despised.—
Witn tins view he retired from the
busy world, to hold converse with the
Father oi spirits, and to receive in
struction in the momentous truths of
Christianity, lie is now actually set
out on his return to Greece, there to
unfurl the banners of Ihe cross, and
preach Christ crucified under the
humble guise of a missionary to his
benighted countrymen. Weil may we
say, -What hath God wrought! 1
EXCAVATIONS OF POMPEII.
In prosecuting tlie excavations of
Pompeii, a late traveller, Mr. W ili-
iams, informs us that the streets oi the
city are getting daily disencumbered.
He entered by the Appiau way,
through a narrow street of small
tombs beautifully executed, with the
names of the deceased plain and legi
ble. At the gate was a sentry box, in
which tlie skeleton of a soldier was
found, with a lamp in his hand; aflei
passing into several streets, lie enter
ed, a coffee-house, marks of the cups
being visible on the stone. Tlie
streets are lined with public buildings
anil private houses, most of which have
their original painted decorations
fresh and entire. The pavement of
the streets is much worn by carriage
wheels. A surgeon’s house, with his
proper instruments; an ironmonger’s
shop, where was an anvil and hammer;
a sculptor's and a baker’s shop; an oil
man’s; a w ine shop, with money in the
till; a school-house, with a pulpit,
with steps up to it, in the middle of
the apartment; a great theatre, a
temple of justice; an amphitheatre,
220 feet long; various temples; a bar
rack for soldiers, the columns of which
are scribbled with their names and
jests; wells, cisterns, seats, triclin-
iutns, beautiful mo&aic’altars, inscrip
tion, and fragments of statues; pipes
of terra cotta, to convey the water
to the different streets; and stocks’for
criminals, in one of tivhicli a skeleton
was found—are among the many
striking vestiges of the arts of ancient
Italy. The houses in general are low,
not more than ten fedt high. The
principal streets are about sixteen
feet in width, with side pavements ol
about three feet; some of the subordi
nate streets are from six to ten feel
wide, with side pavements in propor-
j lion; these are occasionally high, and
reached by steps.
INDIAN ANTQU1TIES.
New Bedford, (Mass.) Dec. 5.
In the prosecution of the labor pup,
sued on tbe lairn ot Air. Rodn.au, i,
the construction oi a mill daui au<
race, the workmen have exhum^
many skeletons ol the aboriginal i*.
habitants oi our land. They arefout^
in little groups, over a wide extent, a(
consideiable- distances fiom each oth
er, ana diflercnt positions. 1| 1#
ground is near the shore, anti from
immense quantities ol shells that cov
er it, must have been, al a ioimer pe
riod, a favorite resort for the wander
ing children of the lorest, to collect
the food which at their seasons fuia-
ed their principal support.
During these visitations, the lot of
humanity has overtaken many, and
their relics of mortality have been de
posited on the spot widt h witnessed
their separation iroui their tribes.—
If there ever were any external evid
ences of this place ot sepulture, they
nave long since been levelled with
the adjacent surface; for the spot be
ing on high, gravelly land, agreeably
to the custom of our ancestors, was
the first in the neighborhood to claim
ihe honors of the plough and the sick
le: and has been gleaned until exhaust
ed nature refused her wonted prod
ucts. That there was a difference is
the rank which these silent memorials
ot ages gone by held among the co-
tetaporaries, is indicated by the care
which they seem to have excited in
the last offices pcrioruied ior them.
Some were found in a sitting posture;
others lying horizontally; with their
heads towards the setting sun; seme
without any accompanying tokens of
respect, while others setm lo have
claimed uncommon honor. I have be
fore me a skull and jaw bone, with
several of the verlcbraes, which ap
pear to have belonged to a herculean
frame, in a state of comparative pits-
ervation. The less durable relics
crumbled to dust on being exposed to
the air. By their side vvfere fouud a
pipe well filled with decayed tobacco,
several spoons, ear rings, and chains of
minute size, of copper,carefully wrap
ped in the skin of some beast, no
doubt originally forming the pouch of
the owner,* together with cloth, the
threads of which are manifest. And
with the same care, the bones of a
small animal, some of which resemble
the head of a tortoise, are preserved.
From the appearance of the tcelh,
their possessor must have lived to old
age; and perhaps was of the race
whom “Uncas’ describes when he
says, “onceWe slept where we could
hear the salt lake speck in iis anger;
then were we ruleis and Sagamores im
the land.”—Am. Daily Adv.
Frctn the Greenfield Gazette.
“WELL EDUCATED” FEMALES.*
I am candid in the belief when I
say that the present inode of educat
ing females deters many men from
entering into matrimonial engage
ments. Who can behold many of our
modern well educated belles without
feelings ol disgust and pity. I am no
advocate for female ignorance—I am
not one who would believe females
incompetent to retain much knowl
edge. No, I know they have superior
minds in general—and with proper
management may become bright or
naments to society. But how many
are there who having “finished their
education” return home and are fit for
—nothing. They have perhaps learn
ed to finger the piano or draw uncouth
figuers on velvet, but their minds are
not stored with any thing useful—they
consider it beneath their dignity to
stoop to “household drudgery’—thfy
consider themselves elevated above
those around them who have not had
the same advantages as themselves,
and thus their education has ruined
them.
Now I Would have females well
educated—I would have their minds
stored with all that is useful and val
uable. When at home I would have
1hem learn to finger the grid-iron o*
the icash board, I would have them a-
mong other qualifications know the use
of the dish-kettle and the oven, and
learn to make use of them—I \j(ould
also have them, learn that they are
neither Goddesses nor Angels.—that
they do not require or deserve homage
or reverence from man—hut simply
love and respect which all will receive
who are worthy. A female ignoram
us is of all animals the most discus! ing,
hut it is a fact generally that these of
out females who are “ietf educated;} 7
are most ignorant.