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’•I* F03TEY. ‘ FROM THE BRITISH MINSTRELSY. Oli * there is a dream of early youth, And it never comes a train ; ’Tis a vision of light, of life and truth, That flits across the brain : And love is the theme of that early dream, So wild, so warm, so "new, That in all our after years I deem That early dream we rue. Oh! there is a dream of maturer years, More turbulent by far; ’T is a vision of blood, and of woman’s tears, For the theme of that dream is war: And we toil in the field of danger and death, And shout in the battle array, Till we find tint fame is a bodyless breath, That var’-'hetb away. Oh! t!j.:re is a dream of hoary age, ’T‘ iJfc‘'ion of gold in store— d down on the figured page, i d o’er and o’er; trust in our glittering dust, r 'in ttrief and pain, e laid on that last dark bed, •ilth of the world is vain. to his grave— e treading ? . career to save i upbraiding? 0 i-iiin so pure, so bright, g to whom it is given, Ha n a sea of living light, A acme of that dream is Heaven. THE FLOATING BF.ACON. Wr., :i~t thou thus, thou lonely bark, 'll r last on the darkling sen ? W hrt thy sails to the night wind spread, - J why shines that light on thee ? Why'a-thou here, thou lonely bark, YVheitoe other ships are gone? I tkegicd|hce away with those to-day; But stiXthou art sailing alone. There car«- a voice from the lonely bark, <Ar mini-own thoughts answered to me : ‘ Spread l,'mv sail to the midnight gale, And ir light shines lone on the sea; ‘ For myXatch is by the shoal and the sand, And th’rock that is hidden by night, And man*a mariner keels a’ And bless? the beacon Ijgi/,. 1 Is not my 1 ht like that holier light, That heavi sh ’ds over life’s path, Thought not !>•>. ■ 2 ed not, in stillness and shine, Bui welco:f| in darkness and wrath P FROM We request with those c the femali poetry “ ‘’TT* TE. following <plirnents to that so much A t .:>> .-*li^ r;i- T UienJntke JUbnm ^ ^ Unknown tady Lady, although we have not met, - • * ' *A«u maynot meet,'beneath the-sky; ~ A&f whether thine eyes are 'eyes of jet*.. Grey, or dark blue, or violet, Or hazel—heaven knows, not I; Whether around thy cheek of rose A maiden’s glowing locks arc curled, And to Some thousand lulling bonny, Tliv frown is cold as winter’s snows, Thy smile is worth a world ; Or whether, past youth’s joyous strife, The calm of thought is on thy brow, And thou art in thy noon oflife, Loving, and loved, a happy wife, And happier mother now, I know*r.ot—but, whate’er thou art,— Whoe’er thou art, were mine the spell To tall Fate’s joys, or blunt his dart, There should not be one hand or heart B^t seived or wish’d thee well. For thou art Woman—with that word Life’s dearest hopes and memories come, Truth, beauty, love—in her adored, And earth’s Io6t Varadise restored In the green bower of home. What is man’s love ? His vows arc broke Even while his parting kiss is warm.— But woman’s love all change wilj mock And, like the ivy round tnc oak, Cling closer in the storm. THOUGHTS ON DOMESTIC EDUCATION; The Result of Experience. By a Mother; Author of a Always Happy,” “ Hints op the Sources of Happiness.” This pleasing and able writer, whose in variable object it appears to be to render her talents and knowledge serviceable to the community, and whose works we have from time to time noticed with the approbation which they have richly deserved,*” has here produced a volume replete with excellent hints to mothers whose opportunities enable them to save their daughters from the evils to which they are too often exposed in schools, and to bring them up under that superintendance which, generally speaking, is the best calculated to render them useful and amiable members of society. What renders the suggestions which the work contains the more valuable, is that they are the result of long experience. “ The au thor,” says the preface, 44 once asked the father of a numerous family, if he had read the admirable publications of Miss Hamilton and Miss Edgeworth on Education? He dryly answered, * I would read them, were they the compositions of a Mrs. Hamilton and a Mrs. Edgeworth.’ As he was a man of sound judgment' and considerable ex perience, his remark made a deep impres sion and first elicited the idea of a maternal work on the subject. The author immedi ately commenced her memoranda of all she tried and all she effected. The following pages are the v result of twenty years’ ex perience in a family of six children, three sons and three daughters.” T' 'The mere enumeration of the sectioifeihto which the volume is divided will show how important are the subjects considered. They are :preliminary Remarks; Reading; Writing; Arithmetic; Dancing; Music ; Drawing and Painting; Grammar; Geo graphy; Languages—Latin, French, Ita lian ; Housewifery; Coyrse of Education- Books; Plan for Juvenile Diary; Scheme for.the Distribution of Time; French Books for children; Italian Books for Youth; English Books for Youth; Self-Tuition; Arrangement of Time; Apparent Inaction ; Mental Recreation ; Virtue, the only Means of Happiness ; on Arguing ; on Silence ; on Associates and Friends; on Study; on Benevolence; on “Virtue its own Reward on Ignorance; on Positiveness; on Female Inaccuracy; on the Value of Money; on the Value of Time; on Modes of Concilia tion ; on Patience in Sickness; on Charity; on Truth. We will extract passages from two or three of these sections. The origi nality of the manner in ivhich the different topics are treated is as striking as its bene ficial tendency. Dancin''.— 44 It is difficult for rational observers to consider dancing in any other light than as an amusement; yet great pains seems to be taken to render it a study de manding much close and serious attention. Healthy children, accustomed to enjoy the free use of their limbs in the open air, will want little tuition to become good dancers— will not need collars, stocks, remonstrances, and reproofs, to teach them to hold up their heads and turn out their toss. By running, jumping, skipping in gardens and fields, moving their feet and their hands without restraint, and looking freely about them up to trees and stars, and around to flowers and play-fellows, they will too often stretch the sinews of their legs, and bend the joints of their ancles, and draw up their necks and heads, to run the risk of moving heavily or clumsily, and of carrying themselves un gracefully. As, however, in civilized coun tries, certain movements constitute the grace and C^egance of dancing, children had bet ter lx cKtrly taught the most common steps in vogue. A twelvemonth of tuition, say from seven to eight, will suffice to give the prompt little pupils a good notion of time and regulated motion. After that they may so on dancing to their mother’s piano-forte, whenever she pleases to indulge them with a country dance or Scotch reel, and be as merry apd as graceful as they please. At twelve or fourteen years of age, another year or two of tuition may fit them to join in the dances then in vogue. As the fashion is continually changing, this instruction to the girl just budding into the young woman may be usefnl and agreeable. But if dancing has one pre-eminent charm, it is the charm of artlessness. Can this charm exist if the dancer’s thoughts are absorbed in the desire of self-exhibition? No ; then let not self-exhibition for one instant creep into the mind of the young dancer. By conversation, by example, by every possible medium, inculcate that we dance to amuse ourselves, not to exhibit ourselves. Do not even let us praise a child, without re membering this aim. Let us not say, ‘ You dance prettily:’ let us say,‘‘You dance very merrily.’ Let not the fond mother ex claim, ‘ Come, let me see you dance but, 4 Come, will you hare a dance?’ ” Apparent Inaction.—“That idleness is an enemy to virtue and happiness, we can all feelingly allow; but it is not therefore certain that all occupations are friendly to virtue and happiness. Without, of course, alluding to any form of vicious occupation, there are many frivolous ones that are more pernicious than a state of perfect inaction. We should not, therefore, be too earnest to fill up every moment of the busy day; let a certain portion be steadily devoted to im provement and usefulness, but let interven ing half hours of repose, and moments of reflection, pass as periods also favourable to mental expansion. If, when engages# ib reading or needle-work, or any other em ployment, the young pupil pauses, and seems absorbed in contemplation’, let not the in tellectual abstraction be disturbed; perhaps some Ingenious inquiry is engaging the ex panding thoughts* Tho questions which often follow such a pause prove that the mind has not been idle, that it has on the contrary, been eliciting truth, or pursuing inquiry. How much better that such intel lectual labour should finish its wholesome course, and that the mind should not be pre maturely called away from its healthy work ings. No forced exertion can bhar any com parison with such free thinkings. It is not difficult to discover, by the glance of the eye and the play of the features, when the pause proceeds from mental reflection: a countenance thus impressed bears a very different expression from one marked by vacuity of thought or the lnnguour of indo lence. More than moments may be allowed to be thus spent. A little girl of eight years old has been discovered alone, stretched before an open window, apparently in a. state of utter listlessness ; yet, when asked why she remained there so long inactive—‘I have been watching,’ she replied, * the sun setting behind those beautiful gold and pur ple clouds. On Associates and Friends.—-“By kind ness,'frankness, and forbearance, a mother can obtain the confidence of her children, and gradually and impercetibly become the trusted friend. Had girls no other, from fourteen to twenty, the fate of many of them would wear a more smiling aspect than it too often does, when youthful confidantes share the heart and fancy. Intimates and social companions may be selected for them, in as great a number as the mother can judiciously v encourage. Perhaps, by having numerous associates, the risk of forming a sickly sentimental friendship is avoided Mystery and secrecy cannot subsist among numbers, and mystery and secrecy are the corner stones of sentimental cAiqnexions. By enlarged communion, more iLveoflf feel ings am induced, an^ the glow ojf affection, so natural and so delightful in youth, runs no hazard of being chilled by being diffused. Surely the more we mingle with our fellow- Creatures, the more warm and kindly are our feelings. The “system of confidential letter-writing is* perhaps, the most perni cious low '' *• a young lady can al- nd of her own age. The length and frequency of these epistles form their principal charm and chief. They are not written because there is something to be said, hut something must be said be cause they are to be written. In youth the imagination is the most busy of our facul- prudent for him t<v leave the parts, and the Penns providedsfor his safety by giving him a tract of land near Frenchtown, in New Jersey, whither he removed ; and there the earthly career of Taltamy Tandy was clo sed.—Penn. Ar<*us. From Memoirs of the late R. L. Edge- ties, and furnishes the principal supply for ieorth Esq.—Sir Francis Blake Delaval had these missives. Girls of ordinary character fill the page with idle gossipings; and, as life seldom yields sufficient variety of anec dote and character for these indiscrimi- nating observers, fancy is called in aid, and facts are mingled with fictions, 4 after what flourish their nature will.’ Hence the mis chiefs of false representation and petty scandal are propagated and prolonged ; and the mind, tainted in its prinie, loses its deli cate distinction of truth and falsehood. With girls of superior talent, the imagina tion is equally hurtfil, though in a different way ; for these, soaring above the incidents and personages of leal life, indulge them selves in all the hyperbole of romance, the refinements, and the wild and deluding vi sions of irrational hope. With such as these every tiling is exquisite or detestable, loved or hated, lauded to the skies'or tram pled to the earth, a medium is unknown, for the very word moderation is expunged from their vocabulary. The mischiefs arising from such mental dereliction can be easily imagined, though not easily calculated; rather than risk so fearful a hazard, a young lady had better never write a letter during her minority. To think a little wildly and fantastically is natural to youth ; but as thoughts perish, the evil is as a summer cloud, slight and fugitive. But when these idle fancies are committed to paper, a sort of permanency is given to them, and a feel- of pride is generated on re-perusing the high-sounding period; added to which, thoughts are brief and changeable ; a vision of fancy may be succeeded by a reflection of good sense : but in writing, the fugitive fancies are fixed and dilated, and pursued, so that, out of one passing folly, many branch forth ; truth and common sense are put aside; and the taste for romance is cherished, and the distaste for reason is aug mented.” - Reminiscence.—The Time is not far dis tant, when every trace to the history of the tribes that inhabited the forks of the Maker- ist Keskon,* will be obliterated. The rem- brance of those days will be entombed with the few hoary-headed chroniclers who are yet permitted to sojourn here.—In after ages, little will those who stroll along the Banks of the Lehigh, think of the light ca noe of the Indian warrior, that once glided on its placid bosom ; of the terrific war- whoop that resounded along its shores ; or when viewing from our hills the magnifi cent prospects they afford, their thoughts will* .scarcely racar to too tiyie, when all be* low was one forest, above which the smoke of the council fires curled, and stained the evening sky. Yet a century has scarcely elapsed, since this was the domain of a peo ple now extinct— 44 all gone to the land where their fathers have gone.” The Mohicans were so enamoured of this tract of country, that the most liberal of fers could not prevail on them to dispose of it. When the whites found they could not succeed by fair means, they resorted to foul and eventually dispossessed them of it, in a manner that reflects no little discredit on all who had any participation in the transaction. From the five nations, who had not the re motest shadow of right to any lands along the Delaware, a conveyance was obtained for a tract of country embracing this within its boundaries. All attempts to settle it, however, were promptly resisted by the rightful owners. Treaties were then held, at which every art was essayed to entice them to confirm this conveyance, but all was of no avail. At length the* famous walking purchase was concluded on, and the persons selected for this purpose were the most no ted pedestrians in the country. Instead of following the sinuosities of the Delaware, according to the intention of the Indians, the walkers were instructed to take \ a direct course across the country, by which means, one of them succeeded in reaching‘a place called Still Watfer, about 30 miles beyond the Blue Ridge. The Indians, finding they had been de ceived, were highly dissatisfied, and resol ved to maintain their possession by force of arms ; but being threatened by the whites on the one side, and the powerful and war like tribes that composed the Five Nations on the other, they were compelled to relin quish the Land of Blue Hills, and turn their hacks to the graves of their ancestors. When they set off on their pilgrimage towards the setting of the sun, one of their warriors was observed to linger behind. His affections clung so firmly to the land of his nativity, that he found it impossible to follow. The proprietaries, operated upon, in all proba bility, by a sense of the wrongs they had done his tribe, gave him a tract of land, which included within its limits the farm on which George Steelier now resides, and there he erected his wigwarm. Many summers passed away, and he might be seen stealing along the banks of the Lehicton, or seated at the door of his wigwam, humming the wild war-songs of his ancestors. He ma : n- tained scarcely any intercourse with the' whites, 1 and devoted his time , principally to hunting and to fishing. The idea, that when the Great Spirit took him from hence, his bones would rest where his infancy was reared, afforded him much pleasure; but even this consolation was denied him. Hostilities soon began between the hostile Indians and the whites, when it was deemed contrived to represent the borough of An dover in several Parliaments, by practising a series of tricks on his constituents ; but at length he sustained a reverse of fortune, and his electioneering success terminated. His attorney’s bill was yet to be dischar ged. It had been running on for many years, and though large sums had been paid on account, a prodigious balance still re mained to be adjusted. The affair came before the king’s bench. Among a variety of exorbitant and monstrous charges, there ap peared the following article : To being thrown out of the window at the George Inn, Andover—to my leg being thereby broken—to surgeon’s bill, and loss of time and business—all in the serviceof Sir F. B. Delaval—500/.” When - this curious item came to be ex plained, it appeared that the attorney had, by way of promoting Sir Francis’ interest in the borough, sent cards of invitation to the officers of a regiment in the town, in the name of the mayor and corporation, inviting them todine & drink his Majesty’s health on his birth-day. He, at the same time, wrote a similar invitation to the mayor and corpor ation, in the name of the officers of the re giment. The two parties met, complimen ted each other, eat a good dinner, drank a hearty bottle of wine to his majesty’s health, and prepared to break up. The comman ding officer of the regiment, being the po litest man in company, made a handsome speech to Mr. Mayor, thanking him for his hospitable invitation and entertainment : 44 No, colonel,” replied the mayor, 44 it is to you that thanks are due by me and my bro ther alderman for your genejrous treat to us.” The colonel replied with as much warmth as good breeding would allow : the mayor re torted with downright anger, swearing that he would not be choused by the bravest colo nel in his majesty’s service. “ Mr. Mayor,” said«the colonel, “ there is no necessity for displaying any vulgar passion on this occa sion. Permit me to shew you, that I have here your obliging card of invitation.”— “ Nay, Mr. Colonel, here is no opportunity for bantering—there is your card.” Upon examining the cards, it was obser ved, that notwithstanding an attempt to dis guise it, both cards were written in the sapne hand by some person, who had designed lo make fools of them all. Every eye of the corporation turned spontaneously upon the attorney, who, of course, attended all public meetings. His impudence suddenly gave way, he faltered and betrayed himself so ful ly by his confusion, that the colonel, in a fit of summary justice, threw him'out of the window. For this Sir Francis Delaval was charged five hundred pounds. Whether-he paid the money orgnpi, I forget. ♦The Indian narog of the Delaware, . Anecdote of a Monkey.—Jackoo was par ticularly dexterous, and though somewhat tricky, was prized for his power pf amusing the sailors when trade winds bore them stea dily along, or when fear of squajls made their thoughts a little troublesome to them. Well, some time in the year 1818,* the ves sel embarked on her homeward voyage, and among other passengers, carried a?lady who had a child at the breast, that was only a few' weeks old. When the weather per mitted, the lady took exercise on the^deck ; sometimes with her infant charge in her arms, but often »at a moment when if, had been hushed to slumber by the motion of the ship, the rushing of the waters, and the whispering of the breeze—opiates custom soon renders powerful, and which, in the present instance, were allowed to supercede both the necessity of a cradle and the lulla by of a nurse. In August the weather be came remarkably fine ; and one afternoon, when the vessel was ploughing the watery waste, with clusters of sea fowl disporting in their wake, the sun looked forth in all his majesty, and next to himself, illuminating the two sublimest objects in nature—a num ber of large whiles, sporting under the ex panded sky—a sight that is'always welcome at sea, and which, amidst the vast solitudes of the Atlantic, may be compared to the meeting of pilgrims in the desert. This discovery attracted the attention of all aboard ; and after the captain had gratified his curiosity, ho politely offered his glass to the lady, that she might obtain a clear view of an object which the naked eye was unable to distinguish from the fleecy clouds that every where tinged the horizon’s verge. At this time Mrs. had the baby in her arms, but being aware that it could not harm it self by rolling, she wrapped her shawl about the little innocent, and placed it on a sofa on which she had been sitting., Captain C. assisted her to steady the glass; but scarce ly had she applied her eye to the instrument, when the helmsman exclaimed in atone that indicated the deepest emotion, 44 Good God! seewhatthe mischievous monkey has done!” A mother’s fears are easily excited ; and the reader may judge of the lady’s feelings when, on turning round, she beheld the monkey in the act of transporting her belov ed child to the very top of the mast. And here it may be necessary to explain that the monkey was nearly four feet high, and so strong and active, that while it grasped the infant firmly with one aim, it climbed the shrouds by the aid of the other with as tonishing ease, and seemingly unembarras sed by the weight of his burden. One look was sufficient for the mother, and that look had well nigh been her last, Though she attempted to speak,'the ^ords either died away on her lips or were rendered inarticu late by her sobs and groans ; and had it not been ft* the prompt humanity of those a- roiind her, she would have fallen prostrate on the deck, where she afterwards stretch ed to all appearance & lifeless corpse. Situ ated as he was, the captain knew not what to do ; when he looked at his passenger, speechless, motionless and deadly pale, he almost fancied that life had fled ; and when he thought ot her child that was swinging aloft under the care of so strange a nurse, he expected every minute that the capricious monkey would become tired of his toy and drop it in the ocean or dash it on ihe deck. Often as he had crossed the wide Atlantic, and braved the perils of th« winter’s storm— often as he had been placed in circumstances in which he would have given the wealth of nations,had the wealth of nations been his lo- cive, for the privilege of treacling the earth in safety; never, amid all the changes and chances of seaman’s life, had his feelings been exposed,to so severe a trial. The sailors could climb as well as the * monkey; but the latter watched their, mo tions narrowly; and as it ascended higher up the mast, the moment one of them put his foot upon the shrouds, the captain be came afrai : that it would drop the child, and endeavour to escape by leaping from one mast to another. In the mean time the lit- « tie innocent was heard to cry ; and though many thought it was suffering pain, their fears on this point w*ere soon dissipated, when they observed the animpl imitating exactly the motions of a nurse, by handling, soothing, and carressing its charge, and even endeavouring to hush it to sleep. From the deck the lady was conveyed to the cabin, and gradually., restored to the use of her senses ; but then her cries were most dis tressing, and though she was kindly assured it would soon be well, it required the utmost exertions of two men to prevent her from rushing on deck with the view of ascending herself. In the mean time, many plans were tried to lure the culprit from.his birth above ; but finding all fail, the captain, as a dernier resort, ordered every man to conceal himself below'. This order was promptly obeyed, and Mr. C. himself quietly took his station in the cabin stair, where he could see all that passed without being seen. Thei plan fcappily succeeded : for the monkey onf perceiving that the coast was clear, cau-* tiously descended from his lofiy perch, a ad A replaced the infant on the sofa ; cold, fret ful, and frightened indeed,'but in every oth er respect as when he took it up. The htr- mane seaman had flow a most grateful task*, to perform : the babe was restored to its mothers’ arms, amidst tears, and thanks, and blessings—thanks to the man for his sympathy and aid, and deeper gratitude to the Divine Beirig,?Ivhose arm, though un seen, had sh‘elqp4ithe innocent amidst pains and perils, sudp-is-perhaps never before im pended over the head of« preature so young. ! J A Bookseller's Judgment.—Dr. Prideaux used to relate that when he brought the copy of his “ connection of the old and new testament” to the bookseller, he told him it was a dry subject, and the printing could not be safely ventured upon unless he could enl'wen the work with a little humour. A shrewd madman.—When the Farl of Bradford was brought before Lord Chan cellor Loughborough, to be examined upon application for a statute of lunacy against Jiim, the chancellor asked him “ How ij-iany legs has a sheep?” “ Does your Loroihip mean,” answered Lord Bradford, “ a live or a dead sheep ?” “ Is it not the sarnie thing?” said the Chancellor. “ No my Lord,” said Lord Bradford, “ there is much difference : a living sheep may have four legs, a dead sheep ha3 only two. There are but two legs of mutton—the two fore legs are shoul ders.” > Not long since, as a couple were going to he married, and proceeded as far as the churqh-yard gate, the gentleman stopped/* his fair comrade with the following unex pected address :—“ Mary, during our cour- ship, I have told you most of my mind, but not all my\mm<t—when wo are married I shall insist\ipon three things.”—“ What are they ?” asked the astonished lady. “ In the first place,” says he, “ I shall lie alone ; secondly, I shall eat alone ; and* lastly, I shall find fault vftien there is no occasion; can you submit to these conditions ? “ O yes, Sir, very easily, “ she replied,” “ for if you, lie alone, J shall not : if you eat alone, I shall eat first; and as to finding fault with out occasion, that, I think, may be preven* ted, for I will take care that you shall never want occasion f A Dangerous Adven ture.—Not long since a reverend clergyman in Vermont, being ap prehensive that the accumulated weight of snow upon the roof of his barn might do some damage to his real estate,—to the treasures which he had laid upon earth, and being tenacious of his earthly inheritance, was resolved to prevent it by seasonably shovelling it off. He therefore ascended it, having first, for fear the snow might all slide off at once and himself with it, fastened to his waist one end of a rope, and given the other to his wife. He went to work, but fearing still for his safety, “ my dear,” says he, “ tie the rope around your waist,”—no sooner had she done this than off went the snow, poor minister and all, and up went his wife. Thus on one side of the bam the as- tonded and confounded clergyman hung, bqt, on the other side hung his wife, high, and dry, in majesty sublime dinglmg and dangling at the end of the rope. A gentle man, however, luckily, passing by, delivered ♦ViAiri ftnm fhrir riprilAUs .■aitnntioVi.