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FOETE3T. h FROM THE BOSTOjI STATESMAN. LIFE’S PLEASURES. Life hath its hourof joy—there Calls* ' No gloom on childhood’s auniiy brow, No care that bows—no bonrilhat thralls ■- The heart, can liters gay nrarning know. But oh! for childhood’s sunny hours. In vain die heart in aftci years' Shall seek—when withered by the blight Of disappointment—when the cares Of life are crowding on the mind, When by fate’s Taintless phantom led In search of joy, it mourns to find The promis’d bliss for ever fled. Life hath its hours of Hope—its dreams Of confidence and vows of truth— When fancy, with his brightest beams Has lighted up the path of youth; But soon or late a time must come, When dreams of youth must pass away, And sorrow cast its veil of gloom, Before its bright and cheering ray; The noblest feelings of the heart, Of pure and deep affection born, From the chilled bosom shall depart, Withered by cold neglect and scorn. Life hath its hour of Love—it brings A strange compound of hopes and fears:— \brightest of life’s imaginings , In Love in youth’s unclouded years; 2ut oh; how oft its charm hath past Like visions of the night away ! Swtpt o’er by disappointment’s blast, Living the heart in dread decay. Tilt fondest and the loveliest form T>at e’er hath known love’s rapturous spell Hasfcunk beneath the wasting storm Teat on its true affections fell. Life hath its bliss—the Miss that flows Frbra consciousness of having deno '. Our da* - , at life’s weary’ close, \Vhen slowly sinks existence’ sun; When W3 can look around and see No Ml i. accusing spirit near, When Torn the bond of earth set free The weary soul hath joy to hear Its summons to a brighter clime, Wheii earthly woes no entrance find, And wlym the dreary hours of time Are left, with all their cares, behind. otho of Germany, and the pirate of 1JHE MEDITERRANEAN. A heavy\ rain ushered in a bleak autum nal night which ploscd over the field of Bu- sentelle ; aopte$hng t in almost impenetra ble darkcKtw^il&Wiilit ofy the fugitive, and “ its gloomy influence, j . ^jaApursner. AMo rDttM^, t , of thedayhad ?f onset, the neigh- thetrura- given place ip>ihe-. ! S^2* 1 * vo ' < t£ No sound met Of the wind rushing through the half Jq»J'' 8S forest, as two knights, armed can^a- forced their way through the t^pglel mazes of a thick wood, bordering on the ill ores of the Mediterranean. ^ ‘The game is up !’ exclaimed!the fore most rider, suddenly springing 4 frpm his steed, as the heavily caparisoned war-char ger sank under him ; ‘ and my lifp and dia dem are not worth an hours purchased’,’ ‘ Courage, Royal Otho i’ said his com- . panion, likewise dismounting ; and speak ing in a hollow and suppressed voice, as though the action gave him great pain; ‘ the hope that has carried you thus far from the hot pursuit of your enemies must yet bear you on.* ‘ Notv by saint Peter, noble count! Tour advice is physic to a dying man. My good steed has hreathed his last, and these weary limbs will poorly aid me in eluding the scent of the bloodhounds who track my steps*’ * Danger besets you on every side, * re turned the wounded knight, impatiently ; but delay is certain death. Mount my horse, and speed for life through the forest.’ * I value existence too little to of feature. on. the past. . Where ingg lor the night ? To e \yoyld be to risk discovery qnhditating on the course to be pursued, sound of revelry met his ear—the laugh, the song, the wild huzza, rose on the wind and niingled with the hollow wailing of the bil lows, which rolled in living brightness at Ids feet. Otho looked Cautiously round, as a boisterous peal of merriment awoke the lonely echo of the place’; but though the sound seemed near, no object met his eye, but the broad expanse of moving water, and the deep shadow of the bold craggy rock beneath which lie stood.- He began to think something of magical delusion prevailed.— At length the following ditty was chanted in full chorus, by manly voices ; in his na tive tongue : Where the sun warms, or the tempest low’rs, i The t reasures ofocean and earth are ours ; Freedom and conquest attend our sail, And the prize shall be ours e’er the moon turn pale. The wind that ruffles the breast of the deep, And howls round our cavern, shall lull us to sleep; We sail by the glory of moonbeam and star, And shout to the billow that bears us afar. Rear a hand ! hear a hand ! unmoor the boat Y\ ith the wind and the tide to our vessel float: When the black flag is hoisted, rude warfare is,nigh, Where its dark shadow quivers the boldest will fly. Then, courage, my mates, the wind sings loud, The moon has burst from her swarthy cloud, Again must we dash through the angry roar, Of the foaming surge ere the night is o’er ! This wild burst freed the Emperor from doubt as to the profession of the revellers ; and he rightly concluded that he was near the rendezvous of one of the notorious hordes of pirates which, in that dark age, infested every island and shore of the Mediterranean. Finding he was likely to escape from ScylJa only to fall into Charybdis, he was about to bend his course differently, when his horse, with the natural sagacity of the species, find ing himself near the haunts of men, neighed long and loudly. The sound had scarcely gone forth', before all was silent in the ca vern ; and Otho had time only to disengage his plumed helm, and commit it to the deep, ere a huge stone was rolled from the mouth of a cave artfully, concealed by a projecting angle of the rock. A flood of light instanta neously burst forth, revealing a group of men, variously attired, feasting round a table hewn from the solid rock, which blazed with goblets of precious metal, filled with the sparkling juice of the grape.—In another moment the Emperor was surrounded by armed men, whose fierce and menacing ges tures indicated that little mercy or forbear ance was to be expected at their bands. The Prince, accustomed to command a turbulent and warlike people, bent not from his native dignity in addressing the lawless band before him. Courage could not res cue him from his perilous situation ; but a int of in the seek- chattels of a rich uncle recently defunct at New Amsterdam. The ship in which Derrick had taken passage, driven to the eastward of her proper track, and becalmed, lay. so near the land, that he was fain to go on shore in the yawl, and be held for the first time a sample of the new world. lie had scarcely disembarked, when twenty or thirty young and half-tamed Indians, lying concoaled from his view on the sunny declivity of a sandy knoll,/hap pened to let forth a broad horse-laugh (at some of their own jokes doubtless, after the manner of more civilized beings,) which so startled his less adventurous comrades, who had not yet landed,, that ^hey pushed off- leaving poor Derick, utterly astounded, up to his knees in sea weed and conch shells. Recovering from his amazement, Derick perceived himself deserted, and instinctive ly delivered a most piercing yell of suppli cation towards the treacherous boat’s crew, now rowing furiously for the heavy bark which rolled lazily upon 1 the drowsy deep like a drowned fly in a bowl of porridge. At the sound of th\s strange outcry, the savages involuntarily sprang up, and beheld a round squat figure waddling violently along the beach, clad in a short blue coat half covered with monstrous pearl buttons, long scarlet vest parted at the nether extremity, small clothes of brown velvet, and boots of uni form circumference, similar to the leathern buckets used by modern firemen. Both arms were swinging 1 with prodigious gyra tion, and at the end Of one appeared a hol low hemisphere of drab-coloured felt, the broad rim of which was made to vibrate to and fro in desperate signification of terror and despondency. From the rear of his bare bead, protuberated a cylindrical mass of hair resembling a huge carrot swathed in a cake of rope-yarns—and amidst the con- tortioit^.'Of the body to which it was attach ed, this silicious appendage played up and down like the pump-brake of a" foundering West Indiamen. Moved tit this grotesque spectacle, the overjoyed barbarians cracked the air with unruly disruptions of merriment, and abso lutely whooped Avith ecstacy. They had previously seen/ and been familiar with some individuals qf the paler species of our race; but the figure before them was a no velty altogether uninaagined—an absurdity which their constitutional gravity could not possibly withstand. They looked again and again at the rotund lump of humanity floun dering amid the oozy recrement of a fast re- eeding tide—and ns thev contrasted his awkward struggles with their own agility, his shapeless obesity of frame with their own the un bold and resolute carriag^^xnMPlikelv 1 to succeedfashion of his garments, the? k lv ciirt«^'* c ^" Uu SUC1 men, than ;coward- ed and roared with renewed exertion., S jwt*> ^plications or mean submission. Turn- prolong mine on such dishonourable terms, brave Hcrmon. Never shall my enemies say, that Otho of Germany fled like a coward, leaving his friend to the mercy of the treach erous foes who have brought his life and honour into such fearful jeopardy.’ ‘ My liege this is not a time to indulge in chivalric sentiments. The fate of an em pire depends upon your life. Mine is al ready sped. Number me with the brave men you have left to the crow and the vulture on yonder ill-starred field, Hark !» he con tinued, sinking from the tree which had hitherto supported him, to earth, ‘ the foe is on us ! 1 hear the trampling of steeds, and the deep baying of the dogs, which rises on the blast like the knell of death.’ The Emperor started, and listened, while the sutviving steed snorted, pricked up his rein. * You are right; they are near—rise, and fly! Darkness will no longer conceal us.— See—the moon bursts forth.* He paused in breathless suspense, but re ceived no answer. ’ He touched the hand of the knight, which lay extended on the ground—the icy coldness chilled him! He loosened the clasp 6f his visor, and lifted the heavy steel casque from his head, a misty atmosphere, the moon sh< light \>n the pale brow and blood of the knight. Otho gazed for on the lifeless his steed, aiA a moment )f his friend, sprang to 3 U gh thq forest with i night was far advan- iksh had been rising for ILJ4U. A fF' l - r , 1 ing therefore, to'the foremost in foe group, 'whom, bv his preiid bearing and ‘fierce de meanor, he concluded to be their leader, he said—* Chance and my evil destiny have thrown me into your power Crny rank- is no ble ; aid me in rny present need, an'd I will soamply-reward your services, thatTience- forth you may abandon the lawless life .you pursue.* • The Pirate tauntingly an 3 weredZ-^j^jf- thinks the fortune of an unhebrJ&fl knight us poorly for exercisirig*the rites wo of hospitality ! What sum could you offer of sufficient magnitude to tempi the rover to forsake his traffic on the deep. The wealth of nations is ours—we have bought, our free dom on the waves with our blood, and derive our treasures front the most remote regions of the earths \ 4 Pence, Theodoric !* exclaimed a. voice from behind, which made Qlho start as a tall martial figure emerged from tbe^avern, ‘ Is it thus,’ he continued, addressing his comrade, * that you prove your boasted free dom by playing the tyrant to a stranger, whose misfortune it is to have fallen into our hands ? Now, by St. Nicholas ! the patron of the mariner, I find man is the same arbi trary being on the throne, in the camp, or on thp deep. Give him power- and he abu ses the pterogative with which he is inves ted.* During this speech Otho examined, with an air of troubled interest, the dark and intelligent countenance of foe outlaw. Dis figure was lofty, well and strongly formed. Though plainly attired in the coarse garb df the seaman, he possessed a firmness of step, a grandeur of deportment, indicating high lineage, and early acquaintance with arms. His complexion had suffered from the scorching influence of the hotter climate and constant exposure to weather ; but the fire of genius pervaded his features, arid flashed through the dark and piercingeye, winch ... ~ *. r*7"^ «j» ms • /. V , r* v *—‘b ears, and shook impatiently his slackened Spoke,of deeds, boldly resolved, and fear- rein. lessly executed. His brow was marked with an expression of deep and settled me lancholy, whose gloomy pojver had stolen the glow of health from his cheek, and shed its blight on the rich masses of raven hair, which in foe tneredian of manhood, were al ready niingled with silver. His counten ance, once seen, could mT.; easily he forgotr ten; and foe remembrance of its lineaments recurred to the mind of the Emperor like a troubled dream, recalling the calm sports of boyhood, the rash and iruetuous carried of youth, the fierce tyranny tbst had , marked his entrance on manhood.— 4 It is only fancy, or, he,too,would recognize nee,’ he exclaim ed, to himself, ah the pirate, turning to him said in a courteous tone-—‘ Sir you are wel come to our rnspad cheer follow me.’ d next iveek.) "if ^ VX*." Jl|| TROT THE NANTUCKET INQUIRER. THE DUTCH EMIGRANT. One hundred and eighty-seven years liar since Derrick Von, Hqogen- w . t . , v &ome screamed in prolonged and hideous cachin- nations; others cut uncouth so mersets upon the turf,,or bounded hither and yon with most antic and gymnastic extrava gance ; in short, such a tribe of tom-atid- jerry savages never, til^ now, figured in the annals of comic barbarity. At length, wearied wUh these roystering diversions, in a more orderly temperament thqy/Jpprq^g^tjie object of their mirth, Aowabjost sulfocafed^with mire and trepi- fdnti|m. Deeming their outrageous caper- ings.the mere signals for his sacrifice, he bewailed the luscious and tempting condi tion of his carcass, fancied fire and faggots, and'apprehended instant martyrdom. His first act, as they drew nigh, was to dis charge from his right hand the round-topped hat aforesaid, which went scaling across the smooth wave like a scared goslin in a fish pond. He then planted his Doric legs bolt upright in a ma£s of soft mud—above whose surface poughf of .his person remained, but visage, arms, arid abdomen. His visiters halted upon the more solid strand : they could have riddled his hide with seores of javelins, or pommelled his pericranium to a pumice with >aving stones ; but his belli gerent atiitii le excited more of curiosity than indignr ion. Tjjey wished him no evil—and osr to eating suchan anitnal, they would sooue by fardine upon lobsters and pumpkins. But Derrick wa^ed resolute, and began, in bis despair, to spatter sundry handfuls of filth upon and riround the copper-faced spcc- tators—whereby they were not a little scan dalized. Presently a sturdy youngster threatened to advance; when Derrick, losing all manner of philosophy, uttered a tremendous High Dutch oatb, distorted hjs countenance into its ugliest corrugatioris, protruded the fronts of his jaws so as to re semble the anterior edge of a hard-shelled clam, and howled for. help in a tone of agony rendered doubly dismal by its chromatic va riations. Still, his principal assailant con tinued to approximate, knd, coming, within arm’s length, grappled] foe fat Hollander’s queue that dangled so formidably over his expanded shoulders. Immediately the rest of the tribe rang?d themselves in single file behind their leader, by dint of whose hold upon Derrick’s cabbage-stalk,foey dragged his unwieldiy corporation fairly above.higb- water mark—Here foe exhausted victim sunk intp a stale of torpor; and, while in this condition, his uncivif conquerors, with a sharp stone instrument, rudely sawed off foe appurtenance hy\vhifeh they had extri cated him, and bore away foe trophy in tri- plexities, as the sequel may mani Seeing them depart, his fel r to , His red ch like at 'esignate the " ; ■-t; 1 iT« fl- ’ ■ . ■■ Pi '■ .v"**'**' and expeditiously they conveyed the body- a upon four oars to the boat, and thence to the ship. But Derick awoke not, until the vessel, blessed with propitious gales, reach ed the little settlement of New Amsterdam, now the overgrown city of New York wherein it hath become an object for Doc tors and Colonels and Majors daily to put forth large printed sheets ycleped news papers. However, Myheer \ on Hoogensperg' in due‘course of time came to himself and to his uncle’s cxecutorss. The iatter, on com paring his appearance with the description contained in the old gentleman’s bequest, positively refused to admit bis claims. One prominent accoutrement was missing! In vain did the unfortunate Dutchman appeal to his accompanying countrymen, for evi dence that the identical club of hair, onw abduced, actually belonged to his occiput’at their departure from Rotterdam ; in vain did they relate the story of its cruel excision, for he could remember nothing thereof: in vain did he pack off messengers, with bribes and presents, to treat with the island sava ges for the recovery of that instrument upon which his fortunes depended: in vain he swore, he sued in vain. The matter got into law, and there it hung, as it were, by a hair, term after term, until nature supplied him with a new crop ; when he was enabled to snap his fingers at the lawyers, take pos session of an immense estate, establish a distillery as the surest means of revenge upon his tawny tormentors, marry, live forty years, die without progeny, and lie down among his ancestors in the granite sepul chre of the Hpogenspergs. It may be ne cessary to add, that the original brush in question, was carefully preserved as an in valuable relic by the Indians and their de scendants through four entire generations— when it was inhumed, together with numer ous other treasures, by the side of the last of the Mattekutts. death ; find before he contd a- her servants, all was over l”I con jecture nothing ; I only relate the incident as unequivocally waiter of fact; Lord Ross- more was absolutely dying at the moment l heard fos name pronounced. Let sceptics draw their own conclusions ; perhaps natu ral causes may be assigned ; but I am total ly unequal to the task.*? MUSICAL GHOST. Sir Jonah Barrington, in his Memoirs, vouches, in his own person, for the follow ing remarkable story:—Lord Rossmore was advanced in years, but I never heard of his having had a single day’s indisposition. He bore, in his green old age,the appearance o robust health. During the viceroyalty of Earl Hardwick, Lady Barrington, at a drawing-room at Dublin Castle, met Lord Rossmore. He had been making up one of his weekly parties for Mount Kennedy, to commence the next day, and had sent down orders for every preparation to he made. The Lord Lieutenant was to be of the company. “ My little farmer,” said he to Lady Barrington, addressing her by a pet namq, “ when you go home, tell Sir Jonah the un- that n^-fcaisirissg is to prevent him from j bringing you dowfftO”di?ie wftVlne ‘to-’ra&ft- row. I will have no ifs in the matter—so tell him that come he must /” She promis ed positively, and on her return informed me of her engagement, to which I at once agreed. We retired to our chamber about twelve; and towards two in the morning I was awakened by a sound of a very extra- ordiriary nature. I listened : it occurred first at foort intervals ; it resembled neither a voice nor an instrument/; it was softer than any voice, and wilder than any music, and seemed to float in the air. ^ r I don’t know wherefore, but my heart beat forcibly. The sound became still more plaintive, till it al most died away in the air ; when a sudden change, as if excited by a pang, changed its ione ; it seemed descending. I felt every rierve tremble ; it was not a natural sound nor cauld I make out the point from whence it came. At length I awakened Lady Bar rington, who heard as well as myself. She suggestet|that. i/ inight be an iEolian harp; but to that instrument it bore no similitude : it was altogether a different character of sound. *5Iy, wife at first appeared less af fected thari I ; but subsequently she was more so. We now went to a large window in our bedroom, which looked directly upon a small garden underneath ; the sound then seemed obviously to ascend from a grass- plot immediately belo.w our window. It con tinued ; Lady Barrington requested that I wouid call up her maid, which I did, and she was evidently more affected than either of us. The sounds tasted for more than half an hour. At last, a deep, heavy, throbbing sigh seemed to issue from the spot, and was shortly succeeded by a sharp but low cry, and by the distinct exclamation, thrice re peated, of “ Rossmore—Rossmore—^Ross- more!” 1 will not attempt to describe my own feelings; indeed I cannot. The maid fled in terror from the window, and it was with difficulty I prevailed on lady Barring ton to return to bed : in about a minute af- teri the sound died gradually away, until all Was silent. Lady Barrington who is not so superstitious as I, attributed this circum stance to a hundred different causes, > and made ine promise that I would not mention in a’ should be thereby rendered laughing stocks. At length, wearied with speculates, we fell into a sound slumber. About seven on the ensuing morning, a strong rap at ray cham ber door awakened me. The recollection- that said that, gi of the past night’s adventure hished ' 1 ly upon my mind, and rendered me very un fit to be'taken suddenly on aily subject. > It was light; I went to foe door, when- frithful servant, Lawler, exclaimfoe other side, “ O Lord, Sir!” “ ( Wh umph—© deed fraught with karro^jpg per- [matter r* |>wd I, hurriedly. “6, air !** eja culated h«,* “ Lord Rosstnore’s footman was oyagers frofofoe „ ^ oat to ing from tlg| running nest tlm dper, in great -ffifofej^and told me in pasdin^msft ,jny lord, after cofo- ad gone to bed in per fect health^about half-after two -this raormng^riVA man hearing a noise in hiy master’s Vc^^be slept in foe same ranflMftjwnt and found him in the Translated from the French. The Ladieb.—The critick of the fair sex tell us they are vain, frivolous, ignorant, coquetish, capricious, and what’not. Unjust that we are ! it is the fable of the Lion and the Man. But since the ladies have become authors, they can lake their revenge, were they not too gonerous for such a passion. Though they have learned to paint, their* sketches of man are gentle and kind. But it the ladies were what surly misan thropes call them, who is to blame ? Is it not we who spoil—who corrupt—who mislead. Is it surprising that a prettv woman should be vain, when wo daily praise to her face her charms, her taste, and her wit ? Gan ire blame her vanity, when we tell her that no thing can resist her attractions—that there is nothing so barbarous which she cannot soften,—nothing so elevated that she can not subdue't When we tell her, that her eyes are brighter than day,—that her form is fairer than summer,—more refreshing than spring,—that her lips are Vermillion^—that her-skin combines the whiteness of the lily with the carnation offoe rose ? Do we censfrre a fine woman as frivolous, when we unceasingly tell her, that no other study becomes her but that, of varying her pleasures ; that she requires no talent tut for the arrangement of new parties, no ideas beyond the thought of the afternoon’s amusement? Can we biame her frivolitv when we tell her that her hands were not made to touch the needle, or to soil their whiteness in domestic employments? Can we blame her frivolity, when we tell her, that the look of seriousness chases from her cheek the bloom where rest the Loves and the Graces ; that dull reflection clouds her brow with care ; and that she who thinks, sacrifices the smile that makes beauty charm, and the gaiety that renders wit attractive ? How can a pretty woman fail to be igno rant, when the first lesson she is taught is that beauty supersedes and dispenses with every other quality ; that all she needs to know, is that she is pretty ; that to be intel ligent, is to be pedantic ; and that to be more learned than one’s neighbour, is to in cur the reproach of absurdity and affectation ? Shall we blame her for being a coquette, when the indiscriminate flattery of everv naan teaches her that the homage of one is as good as that of another ? It is the same darts, the same flames, the same beaux, the same coxcombs. The man of sense, when he attempts to compliment, recommends the r beau, since he condescends to do with wardness, wlmt a monkey can do with grricei With all she is a goddess, and to her all men are equally mortals. How can she pre fer, when there is no superiority; or be con stant when there is no merit ? Is she capricious ? Can she be otherwise, when she hears that the universe must be proud to wait her commands—that the ut- most w ^ a l° ver, *t hopes is to\be the hum blest of her slaves—that to fulfil the least of her commands, is the highest ambition of her adorers. Aiyljare men so unjust as to censure the idols foade by their own hands? Let us be just; let us begin the work of reformation. When men cen.se to flatter, women will cease to deceive; ; when men are wise, wo men will be wise to please. The ladies do not force, foe taste of the men } they only adapt themselves to it. They may corrupt, and be corrupted ;—they may improve and be improved. Infidelity.—There are two kinds of infi dels, whose respective impressions arise from very different causes : one doubts ^cr disbelieves, because he deems the evidence insufficient, or at variance with enlightened reason and well ascertained cause and ef- i feet: these are honest and most generally amiable and useful members of society.^— The other doubts, or rather deprecktef the matter in question, because it is hostile fo his view's and inclinations; and a constant wish that it should be untrue, finally per suades him that it is so: these are‘com monly unjust, depraved, or dislofote per sons, frequently notorious hypocrites, and scourges and oppressors of society. Flattery. —A beggar man, on bis rounds in a popular parish in Ayrshire, took the li berty of rapping at the door of the best house in it. It so happened, that the only domes tic at home was a cook, who left her own immediate business to open the door. See- ihg that it was a beggar-man who ljad dis- turbed, her, she very angrily bid him leave it next day at Mount Kennedy, since we foe house and go and work. ** Oh,” said tho gaberfunzioj “ I suppose ift matin, I maun; but afore T gang, I oanna help saying; that I Hae na seen sa bonny a fit (foot) coif or cari ich.” v ‘‘‘Ye’re no fob first * n/* said foe molded the drippihg pqn, « mqny bao thoa* nc—come in poor bodie, an’ I will- / ;ie ye A little gi horn on the Amjn orrut.thctjme/b aslratl her fother i twins. h Good Wife,T-& sermon on a lady, a| ' qualities, adde her husband r it, wi t said that sh day, taok po a day or two the King krerp 'acker ip a f toning