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.
