Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

po^rxur. * AN INDIAN AT THE CUEVING PLACE OF HIS FATHERS. It is the snot I came to seek, M fathers’ ancient burial place, Ere from these vales, ashamed anil weak, Withdrew our wasted race. It is the spot,—I know it well— Of which our old traditions tell. For h n ro the upland hank sends out A ridge towards the river side; I know the shaggy lvlls about, The meadow smooth and wide; The plain 5 , that, toward the southern sky, Fenced east and west by mountains lie. A wh’te man, gazing on the scene, Would sav a lovely spot was here, And praise the lawns so fresh and green Between th“ hills so sheer. I like it not—1 would the plain Lay in its tall old groves again. The sheep are on the slopps around, The cattle in the meadows feed, And laborers tarn the crumbling ground Or drop the yellow seed, And prancing steeds, in trappings gay, Whirl the bright chariot o’er the way. Methinks it were a nobler sight To see these vales in woods arrayed, Their summits in the golden light, Their trunks in grateful sha le, And herds of deer, that hounding go O’er rids and prostrate trees below. And then to mark the lord of all, The forest hero, trained to wars, Quivered and plumed, and lithe and tall, And seamed with glorious scars, Walk fort!) amid his reign to dare The wolf, and grapple with the hear. Thi-bank, in which the dead were laid, Was sacred when its soil was ours: Hither the artless Indian maid Brought wreathes of heads and flowers, An I the grey chief and gifted seer Worshipped the God of thunders here. But now the wheat is green and high On clods that hide the warrior’s breast, And scattered in the furrows lie The weapons of his rest, And th -re, in the loose sand, is thrown Of his large arm the mouldering bone. Ah little thought the strong and brave Who bore their lifeless chieftain forth, Or the young wile, that weeping gave Her»nrst-horn to the earth, That the pale faced, who waste us now, Among th°ir hones should guide the plough. They waste us—aye—like April snow In the warm noon, we shrink away; An 1 fast they follow, as we go Towards the setting day, T : 'l they shall fi'l the land, and we Are driven in the Western sea. But T h' hold a fearful sign, To which the white man’s eyes are blind; Their race may vanish hence, like mine, And leave no trace behind, Save min* o’er the region spread, And the white stones above the head. Before these fields were shorn anil tilled, Full to the brim unr rivers flowed; Th 5 melody of waters tilled The fresh and boundless wood; And torrents (lashed, and rivulets played, And fountains spouted in the shade. Those graceful sounds a re heard no more, The springs are silent in the sun, Th n -ivers, bv the blackening shore, With lessening cm rent run. The realm our tribes are crushed to get Mav be a barren desert yet. [Bryant. MI3C 3LLANEOTJS, MEMOIRS OF WASHINGTON. The following extract from the pri vate Memoirs of Washington, (now in progress of publication,) comprises the letter written by the venerated father of his country to Mrs. Wash ington, on the occasion of his accept ing the command of the American ar mies: Puildelphia, June, 18, 1775. My Dearest—I am now set down to write to you on a subject which fills me with inexpressible concern, and this concern is greatly aggravat ed and increased, when I reflect on the uneasiness I know it will give you. ft has been determined in Con gress. that the whole army raised for the defence of the American cause shall be put under mv care. Y ou may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I as sure you, in the most solemn manner, that so far from seeking this appoint ment, I have used every endeavor in my power to avoid it, not only from my unwillingness to part from you and the family, hut from consciousness of its being a trust too great for my ca pacity and that I should enjoy more real happiness in one month with you at home, than I have the most dis tant prospect of finding abroad, if my stay was seventy times seven years. But as it has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this service, I shall hope that my Undertaking of it is designed to answer some good pur pose. You might, and I suppose did perceive, from the tenor of my letters, that I was apprehensive I could not avoid this appointment, as I did not pretend to intimate when I should re turn. That was tho case. It was utterly out of my power to refuse this appointment, without exposing my character to such censures as would have reflected dishonour upon myself, and given pain to my friends. This I am sure, could not, and ought not, to he pleasing to you, and must have lessened me considerably in my own esteem. I shall rely, therefore, con fidently, in that Providence which has hitherto preserved and been bountiful unto me, not doubting hut that I shall return safe to you in the fall. I feel no pain from the toil or the dan ger of the campaign; my unhappiness will flow freta the uneasiness I knew you will feel from being left alone.— I therefore beg that you will summon your whole fortitude, and pass your time as agreeably as possible. Noth ing will give me so much sincere sat isfaction as to hear this, and to hear it from youf own pen. My earnest and ardent desire is, that you would pursue any plan that is most likely to produce content, and a tolerable de gree of tranquility; as it must add greatly to my uneasy feelings, to hear that you are dissatisfied, or complain ing at what 1 really could not avoid. As life is always uncertain, and common prudence dictates to every man the necessity of settling his tern- oral concerns while it is in his power, and while mind is calm and undisturb ed, I have, since I came to this place, tfor 1 had no time to do it before I left home.) got Col. Pendleton to draft a will for me, by the directions I gave him; which will I now' en close. The provisions made for you, in case of my death, will, I hope, he agreeable. I shall add nothing more, as I have a number of ietters to write, but to desire that you will remem ber me to your friends, and assure you that I am, with the most unfeign ed regard, my dear Patsy, Your affectionate GEORGE WASHINGTON. CURIOUS ROCK IN CEYLON. May 19, 1829.— Went this morn ing before sunrise to the top of the fa mous rock. It is said to he 500 feet in height, and it commands a view’ not only of the fort or walled town in which it is, but of the country around to a great extent. On the north and west the blue Ghauts rise in the dis tant prospect a continued chain of mountains, extending from southwest to northeast. Nearer is the Cavary, divided into two branches, forming the rich island on which is the Sering- ham pagoda. Here and there is a sugar-loaf rock rising abruptly from the plain, on one of which, called the golden rock, is a Mohatnedan tomb, occasionally lighted up. The rock affording this view is itself the great est wonder. It is an immense pile, rising out of the north side almost perpendicularly, and on the west and south in irregular cliffs, affording on the west, about half way up, a found ation for a large heathen temple, and on the south a place for a pathway of granite steps, about 350 in number, some cut in the rock, but most of them laid in a substantial manner, en closed by massy walls, covered with an arched way, and defended by strong gates. The east side is left naked.— It is smooth inclined rock, in some places not steep, but in others too abrupt to admit of an ascent. The rock is formed into an arsenal, & al most impregnable fortress. It has the advantage of a natural cistern formed by a vast chasm in a rock; hut it would probably fail in a dry season. Miss. Jour. A GREAT CURIOSITY. About 98 or 100 years ago, the wife of Lord Kilsyth and her infant child were smothered in Holland, or in some other part of the Netherlands. There they were embowelled, em balmed, and placed in the same coffin; and a short time afterwards brought to this country, and laid in the sepul chral vault of the family, below the floor of Kilsyth church. In this sub terranean chamber, they lay undis turbed, till about two months ago, when some persons, prompted by a forward curiosity, tore open the ;hest, and to their surprise and as tonishment, saw the lady and her child as fresh as when newly confined. The skin aud flesh were firm and hard; the face while, and the features dis tinct; the fine muslin with which they were dressed was fresh ar.d fair; yellow or orange ribbons, with which they were adorned, were stiff and good. At the same time, the cell in which they were lying was filled with an agreeable odour, arising from some sw'eet-snielling drugs which had been put in the coflin. But the vault and the coflin being open, the admission of external air, and the breath of hun dreds of visitants, soon produced a great alteration* When the vault was shut up, the clothes were dark and wettish; the complexion of the la dy, especially, was much embrown ed; and a mouldiness was collecting on the face, and the aromatic per fumes were nearly gone. Had these venerable remains had not been ex posed, they might have lain undecay ed for several ages more. The lady whose body lies in this state, was formerly the wife of Viscount Dun dee, who commanded the troop#of James II. at the battle of Killicran- kie, 1G89, and who fell there; and was afterwards married to Lord Kilsyth. She appears to have been a stately-looking woman, red-haired, full-faced, and of agreeable features; and at the time of her death, seems to have been thirty-six years of age. 1 here is something very engaging in the child, who is lying at the foot of the coflin, and leaning on his mother’s legs. The babe ab 'ut six months old, looked well, plump, and full, and seemed as if lie were smiling. English Paper. PROTECTION AGAINST LIGHT NING. In case a thunder storm were to happen while a person is in the house, not furnished with a proper conduct or, it is advisable not to stand near places where there is any metal, as chitnnies, gilt frames, iron casements or the like; but to go into the middle of a room, and endeavor to stand or sit upon the best non-conductor that can he found at hand, as an old chair, stool, &c. It is still safer to bring two or three matrasses or beds into the middle of the room, and, folding them up double, put the chair upon them; for they not being such good conductors as the walls, the lightning will not choose an interrupted course through the air of the room and the bedding, when it can go through a continued and better conductor—the wall. The place of most absolute safety is the cellar, and particularly the middle of it; for when a person is Iow r er than the surface of the earth, the lightning must strike the surface of*the earth before it can possibly reach him. But when it can be had, a hammock, or Swinging bed, suspend ed by silk cords equally distant from the walls on every side and from the ceiling above and below, affords the safest situation a person can have in any room whatever, and what, indeed, may he considered quite free from danger of any stroke of lightning. If a storm happens whilst a person is in the open fields far from any building, the best thing he can do is to retire within a small distance of the highest tree or trees he can get; he must by no means get quite near them, but should stop at about fifteen or twenty feet from their outward branches; for if the lightning should fall thereabout, it will probably strike the trees, and should a tree he split, he is safe e- nough at that distance frerm it; be sides from repeated observations, it has been ascertained, that the light ning by no means descends in one un divided track, but bodies of various kinds conduct their share of it at the same time, in proportion to their quantity of conducting power. Over-trading.—There is, be yond doubt, too great a disposition to over-trade among tlie people—a habit of swelling expenses so as to pledge the income of a season in advance, rather than a determination to curtail them within the amount of earnings already made. A friend of ours has made an estimate, founded upon con siderable inquiry, of the amount pro bably due at this moment to the mer chants of our village. He assured himself, that it did not fall much short of one hundred thousand dollars; and it is probably safe to say, that from 30 to 40,000 dollars of this sum is due by citizens of Middlcbury alone.— Now we wish to inquire of our friends, —and an inquiry of the sort may be appropriately made in almost any town,—how this heavy debt is to be paid off? What rau6t be the inevita ble result, if Merchants in Boston and New-York, who aie already much pressed, should demand of country dealers a prompt payment? These w ill not consent to stop business un til they have pursued their customers through the courts ol law; and where in Middlebury can 30,000 or even $10,000 be raised to pay the shop keepers without great perplexity and sacrifice? It is unquestionably true, and it is a fact upon which wc wish the people to think, that the proper ty of many of our best citizens is in directly at the mercy of the merchants in large towns; and that commercial revulsions, which are sudden and not unfrequent, may compel them to dis charge their debts by the sacrifice of entire estates. It is the object of our present brief remarks to call the at tention of the farmer ant) mechanic to a subject at all times interesting, and one which may be of disastrous impor tance to them in times of commercial and manufacturing difficulty—such as we apprehend will in some degree soon he felt.—We cannot too often repeat that the system of over-trad ing—of living upon the liberal calcu lations of profits yet to he made—has kept and still keeps a largfe portion of our fellow'-citizens in entire depen dence upon the merchant and specula tor.— Vl. Jlmer. Value of the Soil of Great Britain.— The landed property of Great* Britain was calculated by Mr. Pitt, in 1797, at 1,600 millions sterling. The popu lation of her empire has been calcula-' ted at ninety-five millions of souls, of which seventy millions are in India. The Roman Empire, in the zenith of its glory, contained hut but one hundred and twenty millions of whom one half were slaves. On the British domin ions the sun never sets, since before his evening rays withdraw from the steeples of Quebec, his morning rays have enlightened the banks of the Gau ges. Origin of the terms Whig and Tory. —Tho names Whig and Tory were first employed in the reign of Charles II. The long Parliament was then about closing its session of seventeen years. The Whigs were so denomi nated from a cant name given to the Scotch Conventiclers: Whig being milk turned sour. The Tories were denominated from the Irish Banditti, so called, whose usual manner of bid ding people deliver, washy the Irish word toree, that is “give me!” It is said that in some part6 of New Hampshire, it is so reeky the owners of sheep are obliged to grind the nos es of these interesting animals to en able them to get at the straggling spears of grass which now and then peep up between the crevices! A gentleman of our acquaintance, stop ping at a tavern in that hard-hearted State, inquired of the landlord how he contrived to sow his grain on such a ten'a firma ns that with which he was surrounded? The man cooly answered, “Sir, we find no difficulty on that score; wc go round among the everlasting rocks, and when we see an aperture present, we shoot in the seed with our muskets; a good marks man, Sir, will in this way frequently sow half a bushel of grain before breakfast!” ANECDOTE OF NELSON. “I was with Lord Nelson at Co penhagen,” says General Stewart, “when 1 he wrote the note to the Crown Prince of Denmark, proposing terms of arrangement. A eannor. hall struck off the head of the boy who was cross ing tho cabin with a light to seal it— ‘Bring another candle,’ said his Lord ship. I observed that I thought it might be very well to send it as it was, for it would not be expected that the usual forms could he observ-. ed at such a moment.—‘That is the very thing I would wish to avoid, Colonel,’ replied he, ‘for if the least appearance of precipitation were perceptablc in the manner of sending this note, it might spoil all.’ Anoth er candle being now brought, his Lo?dship sealed the letter, carefully enclosed in an envelope, with a seal hearing his coat of arms, coro.iet, &c, , and delivered it to the officer in wait ing to receive it.” The moment is reported to have been a critical one, and this note is stated to have deter mined the event. To make Yeast that will keep six month.—BoiJ a quarter of a pound of hops in two gallons of salt water; when boiled half an hour add one table spoon ful of salt, half a pint of molasses, two quarts of rye meal, half a pint ofcorn- mon yeast; let it stand till it ferments, then stir in Indian meal till it is hard as it can be made, then roll it to about the thickness of half an inch, and cut it in pieces of two or three inches diameter; lay it on a board and dry it in the sun or in a warm room. Wheli it is wanted for use, soak it in warm water, or pound it fine. I have used yeast made as above for five years, and prefer it to any other kind. New England Farmer. Cheese. Rennet.—The rennet is prepared by taking some whey and salting till it will bear an egg; it is then suffered to stand over night, and in the morn ing it is skimmed and racked off clear; to this is added hn equal quantity of water brine, strong as the whey, and into this mixture, some sweet briar, thyme, or some other sweet herbs, also a little black pepper and salt petre; the herbs arc kept in the brine three or four days, after which it is decanted clear from them. Into six quarts of this liquor, four calves'' hags, or more properly called calves’ stomachs, are put. No part of the preparation is heated, and frequently the calves’ hags are only steeped in cold salt and water. Scalding.—It is an almost invaria ble practice to scald, the curd. The mass is first broken very fine, and then the scalding whey is added to it and stirred a few minutes; some make use of hot water in preference to whey, and it is in both cases heated accord ing to the nature of the curd; if it is soft, the whey or curd is used nearly boiling; hut if hard, it is used only a little hotter than the hand. After the curd is thoroughly mixed with the hot stuff, it is suffered to stand a few minutes to settle, and is then separat ed as at the first operation. Cleaning the Cheese.—The cheeses having remained about ten days after leaving the press, are to be washed and scraped in the following manner; a large fub of cold sweet whey is placed on the floor, the cheeses are immersed in, where they continue one hour, or longer if necessary, t<J soften the rind. They are then taken out and scraped with a common case knife, with great care, so as not to injure the tender rind, till every part of the cheese is smooth; they are, af ter the last operation, rinsed in the whey & wiped clean with a eoiii’Se cloth, and placed in an airy situation to dry, after which they are placed in the cheese room. The floor of the cheese room is generally prepared by rubbing it with bean or potato tops, or any succulent herb, till it appears of a black wet color; on this floor the cheeses are placed, and turned twice a week, their edges are wiped hard with a cloth once a week, and the floor is cleansed and rubbed with fresh herbs once a fortnight. They must not lie too long, or they will stick to the floor.-—This preparation of the floor gives the cheese a blue coat, which is considered of great conso qucncc. Stilton Cheese.—Take the night’s cream and put it into the morning’s new milk with the rennet; when the curd is separated let it not be broken as is done with other cheese, but fake it out, disturbing it as little as possi ble, and suffer it to dry gradually in a sieve; and as the whey separates, compress it gradually till it has ac quired a firm consistence, then place it in a wooden hoop and suffer it to dry" very gradually on a board, taking care at the same time to turn it daily, with close binders round, and which must be tightened as the cheese acquires more solidity. To Prevent Cheese having a Rancid Nauseous Flavor.—Put about one ta ble spoonful of sali to each gallon of milk when taken from the cows in the evening, for the cheese to be made the next day; put the salt at the hrotv tom of the vessel that is to receive the milk; it will increase the curd and prevent the milk from growing sour or putrid the hottest nights in the summer.—N E. Farmer. ‘NOTICE. A N examination of the school at Mount Wesley, Oougilloga, will be held on Tuesday the If5th of next August. The attendance of all who feel interested in the institution, is hereby re8|>e(tfully so* licited. ^ D. C. M’LEOD. July 11th, 1824P 15 •• 8 L.