Newspaper Page Text
poetry.
From Blackwood’s Magazine, for April.
THE INDIAN WITH HIS DEAD
CHILD.*
BV MUS. HEMAN8.
Then the hunter turned away from that
Where the home of his fathers once had
been,
And burning tlioutrh's (lash’d o’er his mind,
©f the white man’s faith and love unkind.
Bryant.
In the silence of the midnight,
I journey with the dea 1;
In the darkness of the forest boughs,
A lonely path I tread.
Sat me hea-t is high and fearless,
. As by in glitv wings upborne;
Tim mountain Eagle hath not plutnes
So strong as love and scorn.
1 have raised thee from the grave sod,
By th° white man’s path defiled;
Oil to th’ ancestral wilderness
I bear thy dust, my child!
1 have ask’d the ancient deserts
To give my dead a place,
Where the stately footsteps of the free
Alone should leave a trace;
And the rocking pines make answer—
Go, bring us back th’ne own!
And the streams from all the hunter’s hills,
Rush’d with an echoing tone.
•
Thou shalt re«t by sounding waters,
That yet untamed may roll;
The. voices of those chainless ones
With joy shall till thy soul.
In the silence of the midnight,
I journey with the dead;
When 1 he arrows of my father’s bow
Their falcon-flight have sped.
I have left the spoilers’ dwellings
For evermore behind;
Unmingled with their household sounds,
For me shall sweep the wind.
Alone, amidst their hearth fires,
I watchM my child’s decay;
Uncheer’ I I saw the spirit light
From his young eyes fade away.
When his head sank on my bosom,
When the death sleep o’er him fell,
Was there one to say—“A friend is near!”
There was none!—Pale race, farewell!
To the forest, to the cedars,
To the vvarriomand his how,
Back, back! I bore thee laughing thentfe,
—I bear thee slumbering now!
I bear him unto burial,
Where the mighty hunter’s gone;
I shall bear thee in the forest breeze,—
Thou wilt speak of joy, my son!
Tn the silence of the midnight,
I journey with the dead;
But my heart is strong, my step is fleet,
My father’s path I tread.
* “A striking display of Indian character
occurred some years ago, in a town in
Maine. An Indian of the Kennebeck tribe,
remarkable for his good conduct, received a
grant of land from the state, and fixed him
self in a new township, where a number of
families were, settled. Though not ill treat
ed, yet the common prejudice against In
dians prevented any sympathy with him.
This was shown on the death of his only
child, when none of the people came near
him. Shortly after he gave up his farm,
dug up the body of his child, anil carried it
with him two hundred miles through ihe
forest, to join the Canadian Ind : ans.”— Tu
dor’s Letters on the Eastern Stales of A-
merica.
a handsome person, depict too well
the stains with which sin sullies the
pure mind.
Towards the afternoon of an ap
pointed day, a numerous assemblage
of persons being collected, the cere
mony of separating this unfortunate
young man from his kindred and front
the people was performed.
The leper, clad in a shroud, a-
waited at the bottom of the stair.——
The clergy of his parish had come in
in procession, and had conducted him
to the church. An illuminated bier
was prepared, in which the young
man was placed, in a manner similar
to that which dead bodies usually lie
in state. Then masses for the de
parted were sung, and the wonted be-
sprinklings and incense offerings were
made. lie was then led by the
bridge of St. Ladle, without the
totvii, to the small house which he
was 10 occupy.
On arriving at the door, over which
was placed a little clock, surmounted
by a cross, the leper before casting
off his garment, threw himself on his
knees. The curate who attended
him then made an affecting discourse,
exhorting him to patience, reminding
him of the tribulation of Jesus Christ,
pointing out to him, above his head,
that heaven which was ready to re
ceive bint, the abode, of the afflicted
here, where there will be neither
sickness nor leprosy, where all will
be eternally pure and happy. After
this address w r as concluded,
fortunate young man threw off his
dress, put on the habiliment of a lep
er, and took his rattle (a toy similar
to that which children use) to warn
every one to fly at his approach.—
Then the curate, with a loud voice,
pronounced in these terms the prohi
bit ions^ordered by the ritual.
k l forbid thee to lake ofT this thy
dress of a leper.
l I forbid thee to walk bare-footed.
‘1 forbid thee to pass through by
lanes or narrow' streets.
I forbid thee to speak to any one
wdio faces thee to the windward.
1 forbid thee to enter into any
church, monastery, fair, market; or
into any place where men shall be
assembled.
I forbid thee to drink, or to wash
hands, either in a fountain, or in a riv
er.
I forbid thee to handle any article
of merchandise, before thou hast pur
chased it.
I forbid thee to touch, or to give
any thing to children.
‘1 forbid thee to live with any wo
man except thy w ife.
Then the priest gave him his hand
to kiss, threw a shovel of earth upon
his head, and closing the door, recom
mended him to the prayers ol the as
sisting clergy. All the bystanders
then retired.’
MISCELLANEOUS,
EXCOMMUNICATION OF A LEP
ER.
From Montcil’s History of the French.
‘Notwithstanding the inequality of
their condition, the youthful daughter
of a graduate of our university con
sented to marry a son of a rich mer
chant, and although the world cried
shame, the marriage was completed;
and proving at first happy, all objec
tions were silenced. After some time
had elapsed, the bloom of health which
had once enlivened the countenance
of the young man began, however, to
fade. II,tit, irritation, and excoria
tions proclaimed at length the ravages
of that frightful disease which was
brought from the country where our
Saviour perished.
‘For a long time the relations of
the poor youth endeavoured to blind
themselves to his situation: but at
last the symptoms of lepTosy became
flo evident, that medical assistance
was indispensable. The doctors de
dared that the interference of the
church could not be avoided. As
the graduate holds the office of ad
vocate to the convent, I could not for
bear proffering up assistance to his
family on this occasion. How over
whelmed with compassion was I,
beholding the condition of the young
husband! His blooming cheeks and
fair eye-brows were defaced by the
scabia, tno ravages of which, upon
BORROWING.
Mr. Editor—The piece which re
cently appeared in yuur paper signed
A Lender,’ has done some good.—
Several neighbors have since found
things which thej( supposed lost, but
which it now appears, were lent only
a long time since.
When I first read the article “A
Lender,” I thought it was personal,
and starting suddenly from my chair,
Scoundrel!’ said 1, ‘who has been
writing about me? I’ll go to the prin
ter, and find out the author, and give
him a severe castigation. I ll—I’ll
Russell Jarvis him.” I caught my
hat, and started to the printing office.
My good woman ‘wondered what made
the man act so’—it being one of her
peculiar expressions on such occasions.
On reaching the outer door I met one
of neighbor Slack’s ruddy-faced ur
chins. ‘M ster,’ said he, ‘here is your
breaking-up hoe and hand-saw that fa
ther borrowed of you last fall. Fa
ther says you have been wiling at him
in the newspapers about it.’ Benton
my purpose of revenge, I hastened a-
long, struck half dumb at what the
boy said. I had not gone far before I
saw Squire Stingy pass along with a
wheelbarrow’.—My eye followed him.
He ran it close up to a house and then
cried out, ‘Here old Testy is your
wheelbarrow. Take it and keep it
to yourself and be-hanged to you; hut
be careful you never get the printer
to abuse me again.’—‘Thinks I to
myself,’ it would perhaps be as well
for me to haul in my jib and tack about
and see how matters stood with me at
home. I did so.
Search was made. Manv things
were found on my premises that did
not belong to me. I scut Tabitha
home with the borrowed books! Luna
was off with Mr. Purblanc’s speca-
cles that I borrowed four weeks ago
at church to find the hymn. Rosa
hastened away with madam Goodlive s
sausage machine. John shouldered
Mr. Farmwell s plough which had laid
out all the winter. I carried back
Parson Iloldforth’s Bible concordance,
and neighbour Stonecutter’s crowbar
and drills. As I was going on sweep
ing my premises of these borrowed
articles, the words ‘Alas, it was bor
rowed!’ more than once rose to ray
lips;' and conscience now for the first
time awakened to the subject, urged
me on so rapidly that 1 did not again
think of tweaking the printer’s nose,
or of flogging a Lender.’ I determin
ed never to borrow but when it was
absolutely necessary, and return the
article when I have done using it.—
Such, sir, is the succinct history, and
the firm resolution, of one who has
heretofore been negligent in duty.
Jl Reformed Borrower.
PETER SINGLE’S ESCAPE FROM MAT
RIMONY.
We are all subject to disappoint
ments, says my aunt with a sigh.—
True, we are, I answered; but surely
you don't pretend to call mine a dis
appointment?—What else, you block
head? Why an escape, aunt, a won
derful, a miraculous and delightful
escape. Why these are strange
words, Peter. No more strange than
true, my good aunt; and every day’s
the un->|, observation makes it more so. Ilovv
so? Merely peeping, aunt. Peeping?
Aye, peeping aunt—looking into the
secrets of their hearts—the secrets
and houses of those who are married,
and I arn taught then the true bless
ings of liberty. ’Tis a gift of heaven
bestowed on man by bis divine Crea
tor, and all animated beings, free from
the thraldom of slavery, sing together
for joy—for why—because they are
free. Why Peter, you seem inspir
ed. I am aunt, when speaking of lib
erty. Then you don’t regard the loss
of Dolly. Not a fig. Did you evei
hear the reason of our .separation,
aunt? No. Well, I will tell it to
you; ’tis an excellent joke, 1 assure
you. We were on our way to church
for the awful crime of matrimony,
trudging along the path leading to the
Holy Pile, quite loving and affection
ate; when all of a sudden Dolly looks
up in my face and cries, Peter. Pe
ter. What, Dolly? says I—Peter
who is to make the fire after we are
married?—You, of course, Dolly, I re
plied—that you must be aware is
female’s place—her duty. Mr. Sin
gle, I tell you it is unmannerly, ungoti-
tlemanlike, and it is unhusbandlike,
too, to say I must make the fire; and
do you think I will get up on a cold
frosty monyng, while you arc sleep
ing in bed. and make your fire, sir!
Why, Dolly, my dear, this is strange
conduct, and I went on to tell her
that I would prepare the wood over
night, and have every thing ready for
her; and Dolly you know my business
will call me out early. I don’t know,
nor I don’t care, Mr. Single; make
the fire I will not. You won’t make
the fire, madam? No sir! Then Del
ly hang me if I have you. Then, Mr.
Single, hang me if I care. And so we
parted. Yes on the spot—and I have
ejoiced at the event ever since. I
sign myself with great pleasure,
PETER SINGLE.
ridiculed. Me was! p06r, and no man
lpved hun; he was scouted as unwor
thy of notice. In his oetter days, the
society of his family was courted; his
childi’eti were pronounced the most in'-
telligent and promising of the town,
and all were proud ot their society,
and considered themselves honored if
they were noticed by the offspring of
so intelligent and wealthy a merchant.
But tlie moment this lather became
a bankrupt, that moment were Ins
children neglected; and those \vb°
had partaken of their hospitality and
enjoyed their favor, soon became
their secret and inveterate foes.
Lit. Cadet.
Mr. Canning.—The most extraor
dinary peculiarity of liis mind was that
which enabled him to insult others,
not only with safety, but without being
suspected of incivility. Here lay bis
management; here the address I spoke
of. 1 have heard him say, in language
that every body was delighted with,
what, if it had been fairly translated
into the English of our fathers in the
days of Elizabeth, would have amount
ed to nothing more nor less than a
charge pf inconceivable stupidity amf
presumption, against a member of
Parliament who was bowing to him
and to whom he was bowing at the
time. The plain English of the whole
was exactly this: My dear sir, you
have been made a fool of; you have
put a question which you had no busi
ness to put, as you, if you had a thim
ble full of brains, ought to know, and
which it would have been highly im
proper for any minister to answer; far
be it from me, however, to suppose
that the honorable gentleman knew
W'hat he was saying, or the motive
which actuated the party who have
made a cat’s paw of him. Such was
the true substance of what Mr. Can
ning said to a member of the Opposi
tion, who had troubled him with re
peated inquiries about something he
he had no business with. Yet such was
the manner of saying all this, that the
party, instead of jumping at the speak
er’s throat, made a low bow across
the table, looked up with a smile of
triumph playing about his mouth, and
rubbed bis bands together for a minute
or more, as if a fragrant oil had been
poured out over them.—Neal.
pox, and the advancement of medic
al science. It is also asceitaimd
that the life of women is longer than
that of men. The latter fact is ac
counted for by the circumstance that
women do not eat and drink to ex
cess, as men do; and they are not
compelled to encounter such hard
ships, nor are they so much exposed
to accidents. The shortening of' life
on the aggregate, in Great Britain, is
accounted for by the fact,- “that in'
high life people are mofc luxurious
find idle, and death carries Ihem off’
faster than formerly; arid in low life
people .have lift so much to eat and
drink, nor are they as well clothed,
or warmed by fire and bed clothing at
night.” t
Tl.f> Freri'tivc Committee of the Ameri-
Society, deeming it mi*
can TcmperanC
portant that a ^ Society,
menced under tne pati, n „ a .K . . ,
n«.i I. nartieu.ar ol.i-
FORTUNE.
There is a family in this town, [a-
ny town] with the members of which,
however, we have riot the pleasure of
an acquaintance, but whose history
and fate we have carefully observed.
The father, from small beginnings, by
the exercise of unusual and perse
vering industry, in early life, gained a
fortune, and was ranked among flic
most opulent and influential merchants
of the tow n. At the Insurance Of
fice, that noble seat of intellectual
worth & “human greatness,” he stood
in high estimation, and his opinions
were received as law, and his max
inis were gospel. No man in the
community stood higher in the scale
of est imation than he did, and on all
occasions he was consulted with as
much confidence as was the oracle^ of
Delphi.
But misfortunes came; his ships
were destroyed on Ihe high seas; his
warehouses were levelled by the
flames, and, ere he was aware of it,
he ivas a bankrupt.
He had no sooner failed than he
was looked upon in a widely different
light, h was (hen discovered that he
was not a man ol talents; his opinions
were laughed at, and his maxims were
Humble Scholar.—Very lately died,
at Spalding, Lincolnshire, England,
John Wilcox, shoemaker, aged G5, a
man of strong niitid, vivid imagination,
original ideas and eccentric habits.—
He was a perlect Ilelluo Librortim,
devoting nearly half his lime and much
of his earnings to books, .although he
depended entirely on bis bands for
support. lie lived alone, and his
house was filled with lumber, lasts, and
literature, in mingled heaps. He read,
studied, and digested the metaphysics
of Locke, S.eward,. Read, Oswald,
&c.; knew well the principles of nat
ural and experimental philosophy, as
tronomy, geography, general science,
and music—was well read in ancient
and modern history—a great admirer
of all our best essayists, moralists and
poets; and, as regards English litera
ture, might be considered a living cat
alogue of authors, editions, and prices.
Adulation and flattery lie detested.—
Of manners he knew nothing; was un
couth in dress; and so remarkable shy,
that he was never known to approach
even an intimate acquaintance, unless
in a circuitous, sidelong manner, and
very rarely looked any one in the face,
except obliquely.
The Criminal Law of England is so
severe, that court and jury arc very
often glad tq let the prisoner escape
upon technicalities, niceties, or quib
bles. An instance of this is given in a
London paper now before us, where
it is stated that Henry llepburne was
indicted for stealing a penknife. The
article, when produced, appeared to
be an instrument containing a pair of
nail-scissors and a knife blade. Mr.
Sergeant Arabin left it to the jury to
say if this was a knife or not. The
Jury said they did not know which to
call it, a knife or a pair of scissors;
and, therefore, giving the prisoner the
benefit of the doubt, returned a ver
dict of Not Guilty.
Shtrtening of life, in England.—A
report of considerable interest has
been recently made to Parliament re
specting the “Amt> of Mortality of the
Government Life Annuitants,” from
which it appears that the duration of
human life is shorter than it was fifty
or one hundred years since, notwith
standing the introduction of the kine
and for the promotion oi l t^ P ai
jects, issue the following l>*pectub ot ar
weekly Paper, entitled,
THE JOURNAL OF HUMANITY,
and Herald of ihe Amer. Temperance Soc.
The Journal of Humanity is intended
to be a vehicle ol intelligence respecting; all
the Temperance Societies in our country.
It will lay before the public the plans, and
methods of operation, adopted by the Pa
rent Society, and by others. It will con
tain communications adapted to general u*
tility, on the subject ol temperance, and
Reviews ol well written books and pamph
lets relative to the same subject. it will
also | ay particular attention to ihe subject
ofpauperism and oi prison discipline. In
shut i, tins Journal will make the | nolle ac
quainted w ith al. facts suitable fur publica
tion, and adapted to promote the success of
the cause of humanity.
r l his Paper will not only oppose intem
perance in the use ol' spirituous liquors, and
in all its other lorms, I ut will aim to su|>-
pressall kindred vices. As its title im
ports, its object will be to advance the
cause ol humanity, in the largest sense; to
alleviate the sultmngs and woes ol man,
and to promote his domestic, social, and
civil welfare.
It is proper to say explicitly, that neith
er religious nor political controversy is any
j art oi the object of this Paper. What
ever religious principles are introduced,
will he such as are diiectly adapted to pro
mote Christian Morals, and such as will
nieet the approbation ol all who tear God,
and reverence the sacred Scriptures.
'1 his Journal will coiitain sumn ary ac
counts ol n .ere. ung events in the moral,
religious, am. political world; and will
notice whatever relates to improvements in
useiui arts, especially in the education of
children and jouth.
Finally, it is the intention of the execu
tive committee that Ihe Journal ofHuman-
ity shall be enriched by the most mipoit-
ant information which can be derived from
foreign Journals ol various kinds, and in
the different languages of Europe,—that in
formation especially which relates to the
cause of benevolence, humanity, letters,
and civil society. Ami vvilfi special re
ference to this department, it is the inten
tion oi the Committee to add another Edi
tor, as soon as the prospects of the Journal
will justify the measurr.—It is hoped that,
in this way, the Journal will ultimately
secure a patronage widely extended, and
extended among the reading and intelli
gent classes of the community.
The publication is not in any degree a
matter ol personal interest or gain. The
avails of it will be applied faithfully and
exclusively to promote die benevolent ob
ject of the Am. Temperance Society, as
set forth in ;ts constitution.
it would be a subject of sincere regret
with those who are concerned in this pub
lication, if it should interfere with the cir
culation of any of the useful and excellent
papers, already devoted to the cause of--
temperance and humanity. But a regard
to the judgment and wishes ol wise and
good men in different portions of our
country, and to the paramount importance
of ihe object of the Society, lias prevailed
over all personal considerations.
The Committee indulge the hope that
the designs and arrangements mentioned
above, will meet the approbation of the.
community, and will be carried into epee ,
dy execution. If this country is to be
saved from ruin, it is high time for thom
who love its precious interests, to awake
to vigorous, united, and persevering . ex
ertion. A more particular dcvelopement
of the plan and principles of the Journal
will be given in the first Number.
In behalf of the Executive Committee
of the American Temperance Society, and,
with their concurrence.
EDW’D W. HOOKER,
Editor, fy Associate Gen. Ag’*tt
Andovf.r, March, 10, 1829.
Conditions.—The Journal will he pub
lished on Wednesday of eaoh week, at
Andover, Mass., from the office of Flagg &.
Gould, and in a style such as shall com
mend itself to good taste; price $£2,00
year, in advance, i. e. if paid within two
months; $3,00 if not paid till after the
close of the year.
IttlttSHAL’S SALE.
W ILL be gold to the highest bidder, on
the 17th July next, at New Echota,
one negro man, named
PETER,
levied on as the property of Edward Hicks,
to satisfy a bond given by said E. Hick*
to the National Treasurer.
JOSEPH LYNCH,
Marshak
June 24th, 1829, ^ frf$