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©arietp.
From gay to grave, from Uvely to tevere....ton.
The following beautiful song, is from the no
vel entitled “Felix Alvarez .” Its beautiful sim
plicity and touching pathos ought to excuse the
trifling improprieties which appear in its com
position.
Toll not the bell of death for me,
When I am dead;
Strew not the flow’ry wreath o’er me,
On my cold bed:
Let friendship’s sacred tear
On my fresh grave appear,
Gemming with pearls my bier—
When I am dead:
No dazzling, proud array
Os pageantry display,
My fate to spread.
Let not the busy crowd be near
When I am dead.
Fanning, with unfelt sighs, my bier—
Sighs quickly sped.
Deep let the impression rest,
On some fond female breast;
Then were my memory blest—
When I am dead.
Let not the day be writ;
Love will remember it,
Untold—unsaid.
“LET ME”
BX THOMAS KOOBE.
I ne’er on that lip for a moment have gazed.
But a thousand temptations beset me ;
And I’ve thought as the dear little rubies you
raised,
How delightful ’twould be—if you’d let me.
Then be not so angry for what I have done,
Nor say that you’ve sworn to forget me;
They were buds of temptation too pouting to
shun,
And I thought that you could not but— let me.
When your lip with a whisper came close to
my cheek,
Oh! think how bewitching it met me;
And plain as an eye of a Venus could speak,
Your eje seem’d to say—you would let me.
Then forgive the transgression, and bid me re
main,
For, in truth, if I go, you’ll regret me;
Then, oh! let me try the transgression again,
And I’ll do all you wish—if you’ll let me.
From the Winchester Constellation.
I’LL LET YOU.
Ts a kiss be delightful; so tempting my lip 9,
That a thousand soft wishes beset you,
I vow by the nectar that Jupiter sips.
On certain conditions— I'll let you.
If you’ll swear by my charms that you’ll ever be
true,
And that no other damsel shall pet you,
By the stars that new roll round yon summit of
blue,
Ferhaps, sir— perhaps , air —Vll let you.
If not urg’d by a passion as fleeting as wild,-
That makes all the virtues forget you,
But affection unsullied, soft, fervent and mild,
You ask for the kiss—why— l’ll let you.
And Oh ! should you seek it, a seal for the vows
You intended when first, sir, I met you,
To pledge me your faith, and to make me your
spouse,
Whtr then—then, indeed, love—/’// let you.
LOUISA
THE HONEST POOR,
Who labor for daily support of themselves and
families, most certainly possess the greatest
happiness, pleasure and content. Soon as the
business and fatigues of the day are over, the
countryman throws his utensils aside, and with
pleasure repairs towards his hut; there the
partner of his lift, who is a dearer self, with joy
receives him, and his little offspring prattle
round the fire with ail the marks of sincere wel
come. j
What is the world to their,
Its pomp, its pleasures, and its nonsense all ?
Who in each other clasp whatever fair
High fancy forms, or lavish heart cou'd wish,
Truth, goodness, honor, harmony and love,
The richest bounty of indulgent heaven.
What tho* he knows not those fantastic joys
That sfiil amuse the wanton, still deceive,
A face of pleasure, but a heart of pain.
Sure peace is his, a solid life estranged
To disappointment and fallacious hope.
Rich in content, in nature’s bounty rich,
In herbs and fruits.
The poor man enjoys many of those comforts
-of life in the highest degree, which the opulent
are deprived of; he is engaged in laborious
work through the day, by which he estblishes
his health, (without which life must be a bur
then ;) he relishes the plainest food without sa
tiety, and his undisturbed repose exhilirates his
spirits, and enables him to go forth to the busi
ness of the ensuing day with cheerfulness and
vigor.
How happy he whose toil
Has o'er his languid, powerless limbs diffus’d
A pleasing lassitude! He not in ain
Invokes the gentle deity of dreams,
His powers the most voluptuously dissolve
In safe repose; on him the balmy dews
Os sleep with double nutriment descend.
Who never fasts, no banquet e’er enjoys;
Who never toils or watches never sleeps.
To talk much and well, is the character of a
wit; to talk Kttie and well, is of a wise man;
to talk much and without sense, is of a fool.
Philip, kipg of Macedonia, having defeated
- the lAcedomanian troops, wrote to Archimedes
their king, in a fierce and threatening manner,
to which lie only received this laconic answer:
• Look at your shade in the sun, and see if it is
bigger than it was before the battle.*
I *
18031 THE rOBTfiMOTTTH OlftctS
TWENTY SIX OPINIONS,
Respecting the mode of supporting Gospel Minister*.
A, thinks that preachers of the Gospel
should be qaalifieq, inducted and support
ed in a node to be prescribed by the Statute
Laws.
B, is of opinion that a preacher, is not
entitled to any compensation for his servi
ces, unless he is poor and shiftless, and
cannot live without the alms of the people.
C, Says it takes him as long to go to
meeting and hear the preacher, as it does
for the preacher to go and preach, and
their obligations are therefore reciprocal.
D, believes that a rich preacher is as
much entitled to a reward for his labour,
as if be were poor.
E, believes a preacher should give the
whole of his time to reading, me&tating,
preaching, praying and visiting, and there
fore he ought to be liberally supported, not
in the light of alms, but in that of a gospel
debt.
F, joins with E, with this proviso that
the liberal support be averaged on all the
members of the Church, according to prop
erty and privilege.
G, also agrees with E. provided the lib
eral support be raised by a free, public con
tribution, without any knowledge or exam
ination of what each individual does.
H, chooses to tax himself, and constable
his own money to his preacher without con
sulting any other.
I, loves the preachers and pays them in
blessings ; but the sound of money drives
all good feelings from his heart.
J, when he hears a man preach, that he
does not believe is sent of God, feels un
der no obligation to give him any thing;
and when he hears a preacher that gives
him evidence that he is in the service of
the Lord and devoted to his work, he forms
the conclusion that the Lord pays the
preacher well for his work, as he goes
along.
K, likes preachers very well, but preach
ing rather better. He feels therefore best
pleased when the preacher fails coming;
and a gap opens for himself, for he had
rather work his passage and take his turn
at the helm than pay a pilot.
L, argues like a man, that the preacher
ought to receive something handsome for
his services, and laments that himself is in
debt, and cannot cootribute any thing
without defrauding bis creditors; *£ the
same time he takes special care to keep
always in debt far cheap farms, wild, tana,
or some other article of an increasing na
ture.
M, is a man of a thousand; he argues
that the mode of supporting ministers is
left blank io the New-Testament; because
no one would be economical in all places,
but the deed is enjoined on all who are
taught by an ordinance of heaves. If
therefore a contribution is recommended,
M will be foremost to the bos, when a sub
scription is judged most advisable his name
will be first on the list If averaging is
considered most equitable, he will add a
little to his bill, lest others should fail; and
if no mode at alt is agreed upon, still M,
as an individual, Will contribute by him
self ; for the reasons if others are remiss,
it is neither precedent nor excuse for him.
He does not give to be seen of men ; but
because his heart is in it, and these Gos
pel debts as he calls them, he pays pith as
much devotion as he spreads his hands in a
prayer to God. The creed of his faith,
which seems to be written on his heart, is,
that although all the money in the world
cannot purchase pardon of sin or the smiles
of a reconciled God ; yet religion always
has cost money, or worth, from Abel's
Lamb to the present day, and the man
who will not part with a little money for
the sake of him who parted with his blood
for sinners is a wicked disciple.
N, approves of the faith and profession
of M, but reduces nothing to practice.
O, believes nothing, does nothing, and
is near nothing as any thing can he.
P, said he thought it to be a matter of
mere charity, and as charity begins at home
he was bound to provide for his ourn; at
any rate, he thought the minister as well
on as himself, and many of his brethren,
and therefore considered himself under no
obligation.
Q, replied that it could not be a matter
of charity at all, since the laws of nature,
and of God enjoined it, and their owb call
of the brother made it a matter of moral
obligation.
R, alledged that he had subscribed lib
erally to an useful'institution and must be
excused in that case.
S, said he had assisted freely io build
ing the meeting-house and must have time
to recover it.
TANARUS, enjoined he had been building hous
es and mills, andhad no money left for any
purpose.
U, said he had a son lately parried, and
it had called for all he could raise.
V, stated that he had made several con
tracts and feared he should net be able to
meet them.
W, rose and said, lie was very much as
tonished at the pleas urged, a* if liberals
ties to other institutions, aiding to build
meeting-houses, erectfng costly houses,
makiog sumptuous marriages or contracts
to amass wealth could exonerate from a
positive doty.
X, remarked he, had a short crop, was
poor, and though willing was unable to
do any thing.
Y, stated that short crops and poverty
might excuse from doing much, yet could
be no just plea for doing nothing, since it
was required according to what Ire hath
and net according tc what he hath not.
Z, said he never subscribed to any pa
pers, and observed, I am for none of this
obligation, if I get any thing to spare 1
will give it and be done with it. Moreover
he thought it rather dangerous to give lib
erally lest they should make their minis
ter proud, and so binder his usefulnesr.
s*, rising soberly, said he had attended
to what had been said oo the subject, and
was grieved in spirit to hear so many ob
jections to the discharge of a reasonable
and just duty; he feared that a spirit of
pride and covetousness had disposed them
to serve themselves of the good tilings of
God without returning to him one thankful
offering; he wondered how Christians could
expect the continuance of the blessings of
life who were more abusive ofand unthank
ful for them thaa the very IleatheDS,
who never use any of anew crop, till they
have offered the first fruits to the great giv
er of all good. To the brethren who are so
afraid of spoiling the minister by liberali
ties he said, are your sons and daughters
as lovely and their souls as ptecious in
your sight as your minister, if so, why do
you not govern them by the same rule, and
when the sons request superfines to wear,
high priced gay horses, and 50 or 60 dollar
saddles to ride, and the daughters, dresses,
with a trail from 3to 4 feet in length, fine
bonnets and feathers and othercostly equip
age of dress, why do you not say, no my
lovely children, these will make you proud
and ruin you. No, yonr ‘Amities can be
and appear in all the tashiuuablc elegance
of dress, and your boards loaded with the
luxuries of life, without adverting to the
evil consequence of such conduct. I would,
•aid he, brethren were consistent.
Our preachers are like the camels of
Arabia, while they are loaded with jewels
and spices, feed on throb and bushes ; or
rather, like the colt that was tied where
two ways met; surety the ministers of the
Gospel ought to live somewhere between
the palace and almshouse ; and may God
in his mercy save, us from all extremes, for
Christ’s sake— -Amen.
MOM TUB PHILADELPHIA DEMOCRATIC PEEKS.
A PROUD MJIN,
Is a fool in fermentation, that swells and
boils over like a porridge-pot. He sets out
his feathers like an owls, to swell am) seem
bigger than he is. He is troubled with a
tumour and inflamation of self-conceit, that
renders every part of him stiff’ and uneasy.
He has given himself sympathetic love
powder, that works upon him to dotage,
and has transformed him into his own mis
tress. He is his own gallant, and makes
passionate addresses to his own dear per
fections. He commits idolatry to himself,
and worships his own immage; though
there is op soul living ofhiscburch but him
self, yet he believes, and maintains his faith
with the obstinacy of a fanatic. He is his
own favorite, and advances himself not
only above his merit, but all mankind ; is
both Damon and Pythias to his own dear
self, and values his crony above his soul.—
He gives place to no mau but himself, and
that with very great distance to all others,
whom he esteems not worthy to approach
him. He believes whatsoever he has, re
ceives a value in being his; as a horse in a
nobleman’s stable will bear a greater price
than in a common market. He is 60 proud
that he is as hard to be acquainted with
himself as .with ethers; for he is very apt
to forget who he is, and knows bimse’f on
ly superficially; therefore he treats him
self as a stranger with ceremony and com
pliment, but admits of no privacy. He
strives to look bigger than himself, as well
as others, and is no better than his own par
asite and flatterer. A little flood will make
a shallow torrent swell above its banks,
and rage and foam, and yield a roaring
noise, while the deep silent stream glides
quietly on. So a vain glorious, insolent,
proud man, swells with a little frail pros
perity, grows big and loud, and overflows
his bounds, and when he sinks leaves mud
and dirt behind him. His carriage is as
glorious and haughty, as if he were advanc
ed on men’s shoulders or tumbled over
their heads like Knipperdolling. He fan
cies himself a Colossus, and so he is, for
his head holds no proportion to his body, and
his foundation is lesser than his upper sto
ries. We can naturally take no view of
ourselves, unless we look downwards, to
teach us bow humble admirers we ought to
be bf cur i.wa values. The slighter and
le?s solid hi3 materials are, the more room
they fske up, and make him swell the big
ger'; as feathers and coi ten will stuff cush
ions better than things of more close and
solid pai tsi ’
Os the Virtue of Moderation.
From a valuable volume of Sermons, by Ed.
kusd Dutches.
All our vices are viitues abased. This
sole consideration will furnish arguments
in lavor of this valuable temper, which nei
ther sophistry can undermine, nor experi
ence contradict. Look at the miser I whose
parsimony will scarcely allow him bread ;
within proper limits, his conduct had been
laudable ceconomy. Mark the contrary
character! A generous spirit lies at the
foundation of ruinous extravagance. Un
checked by prudence, unrestrained by mo
deration, liberality degenerates into tho’t
less profusion, feee an unhappy wretch,
whose bone in rankles with envy, and who
to injure a rival, can stoop to the basest
measures ! A thirst for honorable praise,
carried beyond the control of reason, is re
ally the origin of that humiliating spectacle;
Behold a form arrayed in the garb of reli
gion ! A cross is potutrayed on his breast,
a bible is hung at his gii die; he calls him
self a disciple of the Pi ince of Peace: But
the fury of daemon burns in his eye, the im
pious anathema vibrates on his tongue; the
dagger of death arms his frantic hand. A
zeal for God, but tempered with no human
ity. and guided by no information, has con
verted the ardor of piety into the ferocity
of the principled bigot.
Once more, mark yonder lovely form 1
her arms folded on hwr bosom % her wan
countenance furrowed with grief; her
streaming eye fixed on the earth; she sees
not the sun; she hears not the music of the
groves; she heeds not the accents of friend
ship and affection; she shuns every human
abode; she steals into the gloomy cavern,,
and draws with the pencil of despair the
picture of the God of Heaven. Gentle suf
ferer I what a Moloch thou hast delineated!
How piteous thy delusion! What a happy
creature hadst thou been, if the deep vene
ration which saddens thy bosom had been
relieved by juster notions. As it is, piety
itself is the foundation of wretchedness.
With regard to political disputes, which
so often destroy the peace of families, and
make the supporters of the different parties
in the eyes of their opponent?., enemies of
their country, the following observations
deserve in these times to be particularly
recommended.
In society, political interests and opin
ions will often occupy our minds, and not
unfrequently become the theme of conver
sation. On such .occasions let us be par
ticularly careful to manifest moderation,
both of temper and language—on scarcely
any one subject are we less entitled to
bepositive than on the embarrassing and
complex one of politics. No human
work is perfect, and considering the multi
farious nature of its objects, it is, perhaps,
matter of little surprise that the science of
human government is in general so defect
ive. None but those who are actually en
gaged in conducting its higher operations,
can be aware of the difficulties with which
it is attended; and considering how many
turbulent passions are be regulated, anil
how many jarring interests are to be recon
ciled in the vast system of national con
cerns, a good mind will be disposed to pity,
rather than to envy or condemnthe greater
part of the rulers of mankind. Let u?, my
bffilhren, frequently turn our eyes from
feeble, short-sighted men, to that Almigh
ty Ruler who sits at the helm ct the uni
verse, and who, from what seems to us a!-
most a chaos, is constantly educing order,
virtue and happiness. This will elevate
and fortify our minds; render us easy as
to the final issue of things; and dispose ns,
upon all occasions, to think and speak ci
our fellow-mortals with candor, impartiali
ty, and moderation.
The following beautiful extract is from the ‘Fair,
ily Lectures, by Mrs. N. Stroat, {.f Tr-ntou
N. J.’
A great portion of the wrefehrdnes
which has so often embittered married life,
I am persuaded, has originated in the neg
ligence o (trifles. Connubial happiness?}
a thing of too fine a texture to be handled
roughly, it is a sensitive plant, Which will
not*bear even (he touch of unkindness—
a delicate flower, which indifference will
chill and suspicion blast. It must be wa
tered with the showers of tender affection ,
expanded with the glow of attention, aud
guarded by by the impregnable barrier of
unshaken confidence. Thus matured, it
will bloom with fragrance in every season
of life, and sr- eten even the loneliness of
declining years.
Man possesses but three things, his soul, his
body and his estates, which are always exp* sed
to three kinds of ambuscades; his soul totijeo-
Sogists, his body to doctors,- and hit es‘atf t
lawyers.