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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.