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•POETKX. From the Bellows Falls Intelligencer. BE ITIFUL EXTRACT. Mv mother’s voice! how often creep Its cadence on mv lonelv hour*l Like healing scent on w<ngs of sleep, Or dew to th^ unconscious flowers. I miglu forget her melting praver, VVhile pleasrir’s pulses madly fly; But in the still, unbroken air, Her gentle tones come stea’mg hv, And years of sin and manhood flee, And leave me at my mother’s knee. The book of nature and the print Of beautv on th# whisering sea, Give still to me some lineament Of what I have been taught to be. Mv heart is harder and perhaps Mv manliness has drunk up tears, And Ih^re’s mildew in the lapse Of a few miserable years— But nature’s book is even vet, With all my mother’s lessons writ. 1 have been out at eventide, Beneath a moonlight sky of spring. When earth was garnished like a bride, And night had on her silver wing; When bur ding buds anl diamond grass *■ And waters leaping to the light, And all that ma^e the pulses pass, Wdh wd 1 r fleet ness, thronged the night; When all was beautv, then have I, W ih frign is on whom my love is flung, L'k 3 myrrh, on winds ofArahv, Gaz’d uy where evening lamp is hung. And When the beauteous spirit there Flung over me its golden chain, My mother’s voice came on the air Like the light dropping ufthe rain; An l resting >n some silver star. The spirit of a bended knee, I,ve pour’d her deep and fervent prayer, That our eternity might be To rise in Heaven like stars at night; And tread a living path of light. The following is probably the most per fect pecimen of alliteration extent. Whoe ver has at any time attempted to in dite an acrostic merely, is aware of the era- basrassment of being contined to particular intinal letters. Here the whole alphabet is fathomed, and each word, in each line, 'cla ms its own proper initial. It is worthy the indefatigable perseverance of another Dean S.vi t, [Boston Cent An Austr'an army, awfully arrayed, B.ddlv, bv battery, besieged Belgrade; Ossae f commanders cannonading, come D ai-ng des truction’s devastating doom; Ei'-ow endeavour engineers essav, Gen -rals ’against generals grapple—gra cious God! How honors heaven, heroic hardihood! Infuriate, indiscriminate in ill, Kinsmen kill kinsmen—kinsmen kindred' kill! Labor low levels l^tiest, longest lines— Men inarch ’mid mound, ’mid moles, ’mid murderous mines; Now noisy noxious numbers notice nought Of outward obstacles opposing ought: Poor patriot’s, partly purchased, partly press’d, Quite quaking, quickly quarter ’quest: Reason returns, religious right redounds, Sutvarrow stops such sanguinary sounds, Truce to thee, Turkey—triumph to thy tram! Unjust, unwise, unmerciful Ukraine! Vah-sh vain victory, vanish victory vain! Why wish we warfare? Wherefore wel- com - were Xerxes, Ximener.s, Xanthus, Xaviere! Tie; ! v ’ youth ! ye yeomen, yield your V p.;» Zeno’s, Zarsater’s, Zoroaster’s zeal, And au aclmg—arms against appeal. teal > wws r v ill I — im M JL Vim .A £*$ wV . AMEOUS. SEDUCTION. Tt is this species of seduction of the purity of female love, as I have said, to which the name is usually at tached.—But there are vieions sedtc tious, of as many ki .ds, as there are viciou’ objects to be obtained, by vicious means. He who knowingly and wilful ly iessens a single virtue in the he,:rt of another, or introduces into it a sin gle vice, or increases the power of any guilty passion, is a seducer,— guilty himself, to the extent at least, or more than the extent, of the guilt winch he occasions. The flatterer is i seducer—and, in thinking of flat tery, i\e are not to think only of the courts of kings. There is a scale, which comprehends in it all mankind, —a scale of tike great who are great to those beneath them, as they are lit tie to those above them; and, every where, there are flatterers, because, at every point of the scale, there is some little power or patronage, which can gratify some little desire, that corresponds with the gifts which the flatterers of flatterers can offer to those who pay to them a similar hom age. As it would be difficult, to find any one too great to be the subject of adulation, it would be difficult also, to find one too little to be the subject of it, if only we could find one, still meaner, who might look to him with hope. Of the various corruptions therefore, with which virtue may be assailed, flattery is not merely one of th* most powerful, 4 but the most gen- mi of all; because it is at once the mosi easy to be offered, and the sur est to be received. “We believe that we hate flattery,” says La Ri>- chefouoault, “when all which we hate is the awkwardness of the flatterer.’ It is the very nature of this species ol blintlishment, as has been truly re marked, to please, even when reject ed; and however frequently refused admission, to be admitted at last. “Habenl hoc in se naturale blanditiae, etiam cum rejiciuntur placent: soepe exclusie, novissime recipiuntur.” Flattery, then, the fosterer of van ity, and often of affections more de grading, implies, in whatever station the flatterer and the flattered may be, a disregard of the virtue of others, which in itself is no slight vice. But the sly bribery of praise, is not the on ly bribery, with which human selfish ness would strive to seduce human selfishness. There are grosser bribes, which those who count themselves honourable men, and are aspiring to stations of still higher honour, have ao hesitation in employing, for the fur therance of useful vice. A little per jury, real or implied, is all which they require; and they are content, to pay for it its fair market price, or even to raise a little the market price, if per jury should have grown more reluct ant than before, or more skilful in the calculations of its own exact val- It is painful to think, that an of fence against public morals, of such serious import, should be so lightly estimated by those, who strive to for get their own delinquency, in the e- qual and familiar delinquency of others? as if the very wideness of guilt were not an additional reason, for ceasing to contribute to that which has been already so extensively bane ful;' and that the first step to the leg islation of the freest and most virtu ous nation on the earth, to the noblest of all the trusts which a nation can be stow,—that of enacting the means by which its own tendencies to guilt may be lessened,—should, in so many instances, he the purchase of a crime, or many crimes. If, however, the purchase even of a few crimes, be an offence so worthy of reprehension, not merely for the encouragement which it gives to the enal bauierers of their conscience, but still more, for the corruption oi moral principle, which it tends to dif fuse through the whole community, what deeper reprobation belongs to those, to whom this general debase ment of a people, is itselt an object o[desire,—who can see millions sunk in ignorance, and in all the vices of ignorance, and know the means which might have accelerated their moral progress, and rejoice with a secret triumph, that they have been instru mental in withholding them. IIow many nations are there on the earth, in which nothing is so much feared by those who have the miserable charge of the general servitude, as that man should become a little nobler, than it is possible for him to be, when he has to bow his head at the feet of the oppressor;—and in which the diffu sion of knowledge is dreaded, the dil- fusion of that which the slave cannot feel long, and continue to be a slave. To withhold, for purposes of selfish gain, the means by which the moral condition of a state might be amelior ated, is to be guilty of an injury to vir tue, compared with the atrocity of which, the guilt of seducing to vice a single individual, is as insignificant as would be the crime of a single assas sination, compared with the butchery of millions in the massecre of a whole nation,— of which none were to sur vive but the murderers themselves, and those by whom the murder was sanctioned and applauded. The various species of seduction which we have been considering, have had some object of direct personal gain in view. The betrayer of fe male innocence, has prevsously yield ed himself to the control of appitites and passions, that are to him what reason and morality are to the good; and that must be gratified, though he seek the gratification of them in mis ery itself. The flatterer seeks the favour of him whom he flatters, and seeks it usually for interests, without which, the mere favour would be of little value to him. The briberies of money, or place, or pension, present or future, near or remote,—or what ever else can be offered to the rapaci ty of avarice or ambition, or of all the passions which avarice and ambition can gratify,—are not gifts or promises that are gratuious, but expect a re- tnjn of profit of some sort, to the pas sions of the briber. Even those who delight in keeping nations in ignorance aid servility, and who care not how many vices may accompany or flow iroiii these, still see the connection of servility as an effect, with ignorance as a cause; and perhaps, would have no great objection to allow a litle more wisdom to a people, if they were to become obsequious by their wisdom, or to remain even as truly slaves in heart as before. There is one spe cies of corruption, however, which is exercised from a love of the corrup tion itself, or, at least, from tlie mere pleasure of companion-ship in guilt, —a spirit of malicious proselytism, which forms the last dreadful stage of vice; when the grey-headed veteran of debaucheries, that began in youth, and have been matural by a long life of unceasing excess in all that is gross and depraved, till he have acquired a sort oi' ordcular gravity of profligacy, among gayer profligates,—-collects a- round him his band of youthful disci ples, whom he has gathered wherever his watchful eye could mark out an other victim;—relates to them the tales of merriment of other .years, as an excitement to present passions.— observes in each the few virtues which will need, even yet, to be repressed,the irresolute vices that will require to he strengthened, and if, in some ingenu ous cheek, a blush should still arise, marks it with a.sort of joy, that almost calculates the moment of triumph, when that blush have been washed away, to appear again no more. If there be a being on this earth whom il is permitted to us to bate, with fjill and absolute detestation, it is sure ty a human demon like this; and. if we could trace through all its haunts, the licentiousness of a single great city,—from the splendid gaming-house of the rich, to the obscure chamber of vulgar riot, in which the dissolute of another order, assemble to plan the frauds or robberies of the night, or to turn to the only uses, to which they knowhow to turn them, ihe frauds or robberies of the preceding day,—of how many demons of this elrss should ive trace the horrible power, in the lessons which they are giving, and the •esnlts of lessons which have been given!—Brown’« Philosophy and will ultimately receive the fe lt aids of well doing. Proclaim a war of extermination against ignor ance and vice: and withered be that arni which is raised for their de fence.—President Wood's Inaugural address. RELIGION THE. SAFEGUARD OF FREEDOM. If the noble and dearbought herit age of our freedom is to descend an undiminished patrimony to our cbil dren’s children, it must be by the a- gency of principles which bang the re tributions of a future work to bear up on the destinies of the present. For my self, I took to religion as the ark in which our liberties are to'be preserved not by an unholy alliance of Church & State, but by the bland and reform ing influence of this religion on the manners and morals of the community on the hearts & lives of our citizens This religion which we regard as the palladium of our freedom, is in its genius republican. It teaches the doc trine of equal rights & pi ivileges. Ill's not limited like the ancient pagan re- igions, to a few of the noble ami lear ned who may be initiated into its mys teries. It addresses its mandates a- like to rulers and to people, to mas ters and to servants; and carries its consolations and hopes alike to the cottage and the palace. It commands its teachers to announce its glad tid ings in the hearing of every rational creature. It acknowledges no privi leged aristocracy. The philosopher ami the peasant, the man of letters and the man of business, are equally called to bow to the supremacy of its authority. Let this religion, which is thus fit ted to our republican institutions,%end its healing influences through all the ramifications of society, and we will never despair of the republic. There will ever be found among us a re deeming spirit, which will save us from the misrue of tyranny, and the pitfalls of anarchy. Let public opinion be enlightened, and public morals be un tainted, and we may bid defiance to the underminings of internal corrup tion, and io the incursions of the prou dest foreign foe. Let me then adjure you, who love your country, to see that there be no ignorance, to mis guide public opinion, which you can instruct; and no vice to pollute the fountains of morality, which you can reform. Put forth your utmost ener gies to render the irradiations of knowledge and the renovating power of religion universal: and, whatever may become of our beloved couptry you will merit a triumph at her hands, PRUSSIC ACID. Were we to consider the constitu ent. parts arid properties of the most common things v\e are in the habit of daily using, and their poisonous and destructive natures, we should recoil at the deadly potion, and shrink from the loathsome draught we are about to take. That which we consider the most delicious and exhilirating portion of our common beverage, porter, con tains carbonic acid gas, commonly known by the ‘‘spirit,” and which the poor miners dread with the utmost horror, like the Arabian does the des tructive blast of the simoon. Oxalic acid, so much the fear of those accus tomed to the medicine—Ej som salts is made from that useful article, sugar, by u»itin£with it a smaller por tion, more than it has naturally of oxy gen gas. The air we breathe contains a most deadly poison, called by the chemists azotic gas, which, by its be ing mixed with what is called vital air, (oxygen gas,) becomes necessary to our existence, as much as the one (vital air or oxygen gasl would be prejudicial without the other; and Prussic acid, the most violent of all poisons, is contained in the common bitter almond. But these most des tructive substances are always found combined with others, which render them often perfectly harmless, and can be separated only by the skill of the chemist. The Prussic acid (by some called hydrocyanic acid; is a liquid, extract ed from vegetables, and contains one part of cyanogen and one part of hy drogen. It is extracted from the bit ter almond, (as has been stated,) beach-blossom, and the leaves of the laurocerasus. It may also be obtain ed from animal substances, although a vegetable acid, if lime lie added to water distilled from these substances, a Prus8iate o! lime is formed; when, if an acid solution of iron be added to this mixture, common Prussian blue, (or Prussiate oi'iron; is precipitated The acid may be obtained from Prus siate of potash, by making a strong so lution of this salt, and then adding as much tartaric as will precipitate the potash, when the acid will be left in solution, which must be decanted and distilled. Its properties are a pungent odor very much resembling that of bitter almonds, with a hot but sweetish taste and extremely volatile. it contains azote, with which no other vegetable acid is combined; it is largely used in manufacture of Prussian blue. It the most violent of all poisons, and de stroys animals by being applied to the skin only. It is stated by an able chemist, that a single drop applied to the tongue of a mastiff dog caused death so instantaneously that it ap pearetl to have been destroyed by htning. One drop on the human frame destroys life in two minutes But when chemically combined with other substances its power is in a great measure neutralized, and it becomes a valuable article, both to the chemist as a test, and to the phy sician as medicine. The Pfussiate of potash and iron will enable the chem ist to discover nearly the whole of the stals when in solution^ by the color its combination produces. Dr. Zol lekoffer says, that in intermitent fe vers, the Prussiate of iron is in its ef fects superior to Cinchona bark, and says it-never disagrees with the storn ach, or creates nausea even in -the most irritable state while bark is not unfrequently rejected; a patient will recover from the influence of intermit ting and remitting fevers, in the gen erality of cases in much less time than is usual in those eases in which bark is employed.—London Mirror. clusters of grapes if era reprci enteg in so natural a manner, that the bird 8 of the air camC flocking to par take ol them. Parrhasius on his phrt b ro’t a tablet, on which he had painted nc 'th ing but a curtain: but so like reali. ty, that Zeuxis, in exultation,, that tl birds had given such proof of his pet i- cil, exclaimad, -‘come, sir, awair with your curtain, that we may se« what goodly affair you have got be-* neath it.” On being shown his er- or, he felt much abashed, and yield ing the victory, said, “Zeuxis bc- guilded poor birds, but Parrhafiiui* hath deceived Zeuxis.” INGENUITY OF ARTIST8 Cicero ' records that the whole of' the Iliad of Homer was written on a piece of parchment, in so small a character, that it might be enclosed in the compass of a nut-shell-—se* Pliny, lib. 7: but he does not say what nut-shell: porhaps that of a co coa-nut!——There was also one, in Queen Elizabeth,s time who wrote the Ten Commandments, the Creed, the Pater-Noster, the Queen’s name, and the year of our Lord, within the compass of a penny; and gave her ma jesty a pair of spctacles, of such an i artificial make, that, by their help, she plainly discerned every letter,— (Hcylin's Life of Charles /.) An other penman, in the miniature style, one Francis Almonus, wrote the Creed and the first fourteen verses of St. John’s Gospel, in the compass of a penny. In the library of St. John’s College, Oxford, is a picture of Charles I., done with a pen, the lines of which Contain all the psalms, in a legible hand. Bonaparte said at St. Helena of the Emperor Alexander. “All his tlio ts are directed to the conquest of Tur key. At first, I was-pleased with his proposals, because l thought it would enlighten the world to drive ,those brutes, the Turks, out of Europe.— But, when I reflected upon the conse quences; When I saw what a tremen dous weight of power it would give to Russia, in consequence, of the number of Greeks in the Turkish dominions, who would naturally join the Russians, I refused to consent to it, especially as Alexander wanted to get Constanti nople, which would have destroyed the equilibrium of power in Europe.” ‘ Should there arise,” said he, oh a-- notlier occasion, “an Emperor of Rus sia, valiant, impetuous and intelligent, in a word, a Czar with a beard on hie chin, Europe is his own.” From “the arts and artists.” ZEUXIS AND PARRHASIUS. Apollodorus, one of the earlist of Athenian painters, said of Zeuxis “that he had stolen the cunning from all the rest,” Zeuxis himself made no difficulty of boasting of his pic eminence. He painted a Wrestler or Champion so much to his own mind that he wrote below it: <,i Invisurus ali- quis facilnisquam imitatarus.” “Soon er envied than equalled.” Parrhasius, of Ephesus had the boldness to chal lenge Zeuxis to a trial of skill. Zeu xis brought forth a picture, «a which A queer Mistake.—When the late Admiral Crosby was dining with Col. Fitzgerald, at Merrian-squaro, Lon don, he happened to lay his huge brown fist upon the table; at that moment Dr. Jenkins, who was very short sight ed, casting his eyes around the table in search of a loaf of bread: happened to rest’them on the Admiral’s fist: and mistaking it for a loaf, thrust his fork plump into it. The Admiral smarting with the wound, said in a race, “don’t trouble yourself to reach—I’ll help you,” and raised the same fist to de molish the doctor. The doctor per ceiving his mistake, cried out, “only a slice, sir, it won’t go round.” This disarmed the Admit al of his wrath, and so convulsed the company with laughter, that, all the dyspeptic case® at table were discontinued. * A Bull.—A gentleman from the neighborhood of Falkirk, travelling lately m Ireland, stopped at an Inn i* Belfast. Being anxious to rise early next morning, he requested the cham bermaid, whose name ivas Jean, te rouse him at half past six, which the girl promised to do. Jean, however did not appear in the morning, and th* gentleman,when he awoke found it waft eight o’clock. Having dressed, -h* was proceeding down stairs, when he met Jean and challenged her for not performing her promise. “Why” re plied Jean, “Sure Sir you might hare rung the bell, and I would have come up and awoke you.” $<20 REWARD. T AKEN out of mv lot, without myleave,, on Ccctar Creek, Chattoogy District, Cherokee Nation, pn the twenty eighth oi' October last,* one cbesnut sorrel inare, a bout twelve years old, ant! about fourteen hands anil a half high, blaze face, and has been cut on the weathers for the pistillo, and has a large wart under her left ear. I will give the above reward in good propeiy* t.y to any person who will bring said inar^ to me at my residence, above named. JOEL KEKBT. 8th Duo, 1828; 48. Iff