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iification of Bodily appetite ; the reUsh of
Variou- uistes; the odour* of smell; the!
melodies of *ouod; and the glorious object*
of vision. Thi* life of flesh nod cultivation
ol the bodily Hffeciioos,! regard a* the low
est of all thing* to which human nature can
be addicted. It ts the animal existence.
The brutes have it in common with men,
though not in such variety. Ita tendency
is to destroy all moral and rational life, and
spiritual life cannot breathe in its polluted
sphere. Such men, of whom many are to
Be found in this age, are of the true sect of
the Epicureans, and interpret the fable of
Circe’s cop, which transformed men into
obscene bestial forms; and if any one so
given up and changed out of his manly
from, would know his degradation, or the
heights of virtue from which he has fallen,
he may ee it presented in that most classi
cal of all modern poems, the Cornua of Mil
ton, or in the Castle oflndolence of Thomp
son, which aims at the same noble end,
though with unequal steps. But if they
would be raised from the bed of such defil
ed embraces, and wild enchantments, they
must listen to the great Disenchanter, who
is the resurrection and the life ; in whom,
if a man believe, he shall never die. Oh!
it afflicts me to see thi* generation to whom
1 write, merging apace into ibis inglorious
life. It has its head quarters in yoursplen
did feasts and your fark parades, in your
VauxhaUs, your Opera* and your Theatres.
It is very hateful as it i* exhibited in cities,
where it is stewed up in hot quarters, and
revels away the hours of quiet night, and
wastes upon feverish couches the hours of
cheerful day. In the country it shows it
self under fairer forms—wandering from
stream to stream —climbing the brow of
lofty mountains—seeking love in cotta
ges, and doting over the face and charms
of transient nature. Ah ! in thi* shape it is
a dangerous enchantment, for it takes the
form of taste and poetry, and even affects
the feeling of devotion ; but, unless conjoint
with that spiritual life whereof I am to
discover the sources, it is vanity and vex
ntion of spirit, and hurries one through an
exhausting variety to the lethargy and ted
ium of overwrought excitement. This is
the form of sensual life, which is prevail
ing at this day among our lettered and read
ing people. It bath beeo promoted and
brought into maturity by the writing* of
Byron and Moore, who are high priests of
the senses, and ministers of the Cyprian
goddess whose temple they have decorated
with emblems of genius and disguised with
form* of virtue, and surrounded with scenes
of balmy freshness ; but, with all it* forms
and decorations, it i* the temple of imrnor
a! pleasure, aod the service of its imvard
shrine is disgusting immorality. It is very
pitiful to behold the hopes of a nation—the
young tneo and the young women, who are
to bear up the ancient honour* of this god
ly and virtuous i-land, hearkening to the
deceptions of such enchanters, who, being
themselves beguiled would fain bewifeb
the intellectual and moral and spiritual be*
ing of others.’ ”
Death of a Sunday Scholar on the Field of
Battle.
A boy belonging to a Sunday School in a
country village, was so refractory, so vi>
cions, and so lost to every thing that wa
decoroo* and good, that it was necessary
he should be expelled the school. A* he
grew in years, the evil propensities of his
mind manifested themselves in multiplied
acts of dissipation. At length he enlisted
Tor a soldier, and went abroad to serve in
a foreign country leaving behind him a pi
ous and affection ite mother, to mourn over
the follies and vice* of her depraved soo.
After a considerable lap.e of time, a pious
roan residing at the same place, was about
to go out as a sergeant to join the regiment
to which thi* youth belonged. He, know
ing both the mother aod the son, and sup
posing the old woman might wih to com
mnnicate through him some message to her
son, waited npon her preparatory to set
ting out on his journey. He found her th
subject of heavy affliction, and confined to
her bed He introduced to her notice the
object of his visit, and the old woman had
only one boon to bestow—had only one re
quest to make to her rebellious son. The
boon was a Bible. The request, that for
the sake of bis poor dying mother, he
would read at least one verse each day.
The sergeant departed. He arrived in the
foreign land to which he was destined, and
there he found the former Sooday school
scholar as wicked a man, a* he had been a
boy. He lost no time in making known to
him hi* mother’s request. The sergeant
said to him. “ I ana the hearer of the last
gift, and the last wish of your poor moth-’
er.” “ What!” said he, “is she dead
thens” “ She was not,” replied the ser
geant, “ when I left Eogland, but I think
there cannot be any doubt that she is dead
before this. Here,"” said he “is a Bible
(giving it him) which your mother has seol
you, and she has only one request to make
of you, and that is, that for her sake yon
will read one verse a day at least.”-—“ O,”
said he, “if it i* only one verse, here
goes.” He opened the Bible—be looked
—he paused ; —“ Well,” said be, “this is
strange, that the first verge that caught
my eye should be the only one I ever learot
to read in the Sunday School. ‘Come un
to me all ye that labour and are heavy la
den, and I will give your rest.’ ” He began
to inquire who “me” wa; and the pious
sergeant, like Philip of old, spoke to him of
,Je*u*. From this period, a manifest change
was observable in hi* conduct. It was not
a very long time after this cirooonstance,
tharrhe regiment to which he belonged
was engaged-in battle. When the conflict
was over, the sergeant before mentioned
walked over the field of blood, and discov
ered hi* late pupil lying under a tree a
corpse? The Bible was opened at the
parage before quoted, on which he had
r<'pojsd his dying head, and its sacred pa-
Iges were soaked through with blood. Its
■ cheering invitation bad doobtlesa been the
exercise of his dying faith, aod tße media
tion of Mot divine record had consoled and
sanctified him, beiog te bim “ a rod and a
staff,” through the valley of the shadow of
death; and in this manner it may have
pleased God to counsel him by his wisdom,
and after that receive him into glory.
terminated the life of one Sunday
scholar, over whom, perhaps, a teacher
bad many times sighed— 1 Ah! 1 have la
boured in vain, 1 have spent my strength
for naught.’ But cease these hasty and
discouraging conclusions. If the vision
tarry, let us wait for it, and above all, let
us learn from this circumstance, the im
parlance of endeavouring to teach the
children the import of what they read.
Let us be concerned to render if not need
ful for nur youths to ask in future years
who that ‘.we’ is, that is graciously reveal
ed in the Scriptures; but embracing all the
opportunities we possess of introducing
his character and offices to their notice,
may we avail ourselves of them, in the
hope that the divine blessing may be pour
ed out upon our labours; and that the
children, captivated by his excellencies,
far from turning aside to crooked paths,
may be led to exclaim, ‘ Lord, to whom
shall we go but unto Me*, fur thou hast the
words of ETERNAL LIFE.’ ”
From the New York Observer.
SUPERSTITION OF THE IRISH.
There are several places in Ireland cal
led Patterns , where, at certain seasons of the |
year the most absurd ceremonies are per
formed under the name of Religion and of
Christian rites. Many thousands of people
are usually assembled on these occasions,
and, after a number of ridiculous and shock
ing performances, the night is devoted to
lewdness, drunkenness, and quarrelling, as
a relaxation from the cruel penances and
painful labours of the day. The following
account of one of these meetings, held at
Balia, in tbe county of Mayo, on the eighth
of September last, is from the letter of a
pious gentleman in Ireland, to Joseph But
terwortb, Esq. of London. We know of
nothing in Hindoo superstition which surpas
ses this.— Fnm. Visiter.
On the Slh inst. we were at Balia, once
tbe high place of Baal, now of the misnam
ed Qoeen of Heaven. About 50.000 peo
pie were collected there to gain her favour,
and to abuse Ibe patience of the Supreme
Gon. Men and women on their bare knees,
were continually performing penance, re
pealing as many Paters , Jives and Creeds , as
they were able to gabble over with incred
ible volubility, while they went round a
stone altar and au old round tower, which
are distant from each other about forty
yards, and situated in an old bniying ground,
which is completely covered with flat tomb
stones, resting directly on the ground, but
at different elevations and angles. This
irregularity of surface renders tbe difficulty
of perambulating the required ellipse upon
the knees infinitely more laborious. Tbe
votaries now dragging on their knees and
legs to reach the opposing height, and now
cautiously endeavouring to break too sud
den a shock in the descent to a lower stone,
are often, the women, especially, so ex
hausted as to faint. The seven appointed
circuits completed in the burying ground,
they pause at what is called the Blessed
Spot, repeat seven Paters, seven Aves, and
a Creed, and approaching the stone altar,
recapitulate the same lip service, pay a
half penny for kiscing an ivory crucifix, and
proceed from thence down a newly gravel
led declivity towards the well; the Priest
having caused it the day before to be made
as rough as possible, to render the mortifi
cation the greater. Torn and bleeding
they next halt at a stone, anciently set up
by the superstitious in honour of the cruci
fixion ; on the centre of which, being taught
by an attending hierophant, they make the
sign of a cross with fragments of stone ready
for the purpose, and kies it when made, re
peating a Pater, an Ave, and a Creed; then
(bey cootinue their painful progress to a
large tree and a well, which they encom
pass seven times, saying seven Paters, sev
en Aves, and a creed. They next pass
through a small bouse, wherein there is a
well; and for permission to take a bottle of
the water they pay another halfpenny to a
priest. One man having ventured to pass
without paying the toll waa driven out
while I was present, and violently assaulted
by tbe door-keeper: nor was this the only
act of violence that occurred. Two of the
devotees rose at one lime from their knees,
and began to beat each other, proving the
inefficiency of such ceremonies to tame or
subdue the passions of corrupt man. Each
person takes a piece of a tree, mentioned
above, thinking it will preserve them from
fire. The entire proceeding I have just
described is called “the great station;”
the smaller -resembles it in every particu
lar except this, Ibai it is performed on the
bare feet instead of the knees. The whole
scene was revolting in the extreme; being
distressingly indecent from the exposure of
the female performances, and frightful from ,
the many bleeding objects around. A poor
young man, unable to move after tbe com
pletion of this degrading will worship, rest
ed his wearied limbs on a Scotch dray,
holding bis leg* in his hands, his knees torn
to tbe bone, and streaming with blood.
MARRIAGE INTRODUCED INTO THE
SANDWICH ISLANDS.
Among the consequences resulting from
the death of Keopuolani, the missionaries j
mention the introduction of Christian mar
riage among the islanders. “It had been ■
the universal practice,” they say, “ among I
the chiefs, as well as common people, not
only to take and put away their wives when ,
they pleased, but also to do it without any
form, or ceremony. Whenever the wife of
a chief died, as soon as her remains were J
out of sight,'he mme no delay in takiog an- i
other. It was not* week after the funer
al of Keopoolani, jefore there was a very ,>
general agitation espectiog a second wife ,
for Koaptni. These were no less than five j
candidates, all of vhotn were constantly
watching around hm. Bdt he soon
known bis determingion to wait for a time,
and then to select ofe for himself; and in
quired if it wduld no be proper for him to
be married like Iht people in America.
We told him it wouH. Accordingly, in lit
tle more than a month, he selected Kalikua,
a widow of the late Taroahamaah. How
ever short the time |nay appear to Ameri
cans, it was, nevertheless, a longer time,
than it is probable wy other chief ever
waited. The partied made a joint request,
that, on the ensuing Sabbath, they might go
to the house of praybr, and, like the peo
ple of Jesus Christ, be joined together as
mao and wife.”
Accordingly on the Sabbath morning, af
ter conducting the publick worship in the
customary form, Mr. Richards performed
the marriage ceremony in the presence of
a large number of natives and foreigners
assembled on the occasion. “ Thus” say
the missionaries, -.“on the 19lh ol October
1823, was the marriage covenant, in a
Christian form, introduced among the chiefs
of the Sandwich Islands, and the first knot
tied, by which the institution will be likely
to be acknowledged by the chiefs of all in
feriour ranks through the nation. This we
consider as another era in the history ol opr
mission. The couple that have led the
way, are among the highest chiefs of the
islands. There at* none more stable, none i
, whom we should more expect to regard
the marriage vows.— A*. Y. Observer.
LATEST FROM BURMAH.
By the arrival of the brig Bramin, at
New-York, from Calcutta, intelligence has
been received from India, as late a9 tbe
20th of November. Mr. Warren Gould,
supercargo of tbe Bramin, reports, that, off
the Sand Heads, the Bramin passed the
Company’s squadron, under Commodore
Hayes, bound to Rangoon, to co operate
with the land forces that left Calcutta some
time previous.
The Calcutta papers contain official ac
counts of the subjection to the British arms
of the sea port towns ofTavoy and Mergui,
and that the Maywoons, (Governours) and
a few of the head men were prisoners ot
war. The Maywoon of Tavoy was taken
in consequence of the treachery ol the offi
cer who commanded immediately under
him- Mergui was afterwards. taken by
storm, in which thg natives lost about 500
men. The Rajah remaioed till tbe British
troops were actually in the town, and then
withdrew with about 300 of his followers.
It was reported that a revolution had oc
curred at Ava, headed hy the King’s broth
er io law aod the Queen, who caused the
King’9 head to be cut off in the palace—
that on the same day, the young prince,
heir of the empire, stormed the palace with
his adherents, and put to death the broth
er in law aod the Queen.
No letters, we believe, have been receiv
from our brethren in Burmab. The un
settled state of the Country, may render it
impossible, for some time, for our Mission
aries at Ava to forward letters to Rangoon;
and it is not probable that information can
be derived from them through any other
channel.
The success which has hitherto attend
ed the British arms against the Burman for
ces, and especially the revolution at Ava,
if the reports respecting them be correct,
render it probable, that the country will
be subjugated. In this event, a most ex
tensive field for the free circulation of the
Gospel among a sagacious and inquisitive
people, will be provideotially prepared.
Mr. Judson, our indefatigable missionary,
has already completed the translation of
the New Testament into the Burman lan
guage. Meaus should he provided, in this
country, and forwarded to Bormah as early
as practicable, for defraying tbe expense of
printing several thousand copies of this
translation. All tbe circumstances con
nected with this very interesting mission
coaspire to render it a peculiar object of
solicitude to Christians, and especially to
American Baptists.
*
CHICKASAW MISSION.
Copy of a letter from Monroe, Chickasaw
Nation, to the Corresponding Secretary
of tbe Synodical Missionary Society,
dated,
Monroe , Feb. Id, 1825.
Rev. and Dear Sir , —We received, by
last mail, letters from brother Stuart, which
informed us of the prospect of Sister Stuart’s
speedy recovery. He has no doubt writ
ten to you; w will not, therefore, give
you a minute account of tbe character and
progress of tbe different scholars named ,
but must postpone it, we trost, not long.
At present we will give something of a
general kind.
T. C. Henry has just recovered his wont
ed cheerfulness and pleasantry. He is
i learning faster than ever before ; begins
to be fond of speaking English.
fV. H. Barr is doing well; is a large
man; he reads, writes and cyphers, but
speaks very little English.
John Bryan is by no means so far advan
ced as bis kind patroness seems to expect;
but he is learning well, and growing very
-fast. He is pleasant in appearance and
| disposition ; reads in tbe Testament; speaks
a little English.
j Loammi Floyd and A. C. Ball are io the
same class with BrJan, and learning equal
; ly well.
| Samvel Calhoun is with T. C. Henry;—
their present progress is almost unparal
‘ leled. (
Christopher Cotes, Artemas Boies, Josiah
1 Smith, David Ramsay , and James Hillhouse ,
f are all reading io the Testament and learn- j
deserves notice. mnre than
three months he haWnvJffced from two ,
letters to his present slant!. He reads ve- j
ry well, though he speak very little j, (
English.
Robt. Raikes , James Nephew, John H.
Rice. Archibald Alexander, Elipha White
an >\ Joseph Tyler, are progressing ; some
of them very well; others moderately.
Martha L Ramsay is uncommonly studi-f
ous and industrious at work. She reads
in tbe New Testartient ; is much be
loved.
A M. Henry is doing iodifferently at this
time. She will,however, in all probability
be ultimately one of our mo9t accomplished ,
scholars.
J, W. Stephenson, Horace Pratt and Hugh
Andrews* are absent, and probably will
not return. Robt. Simonton is at Brother
Wilson’s school.
In haste we conclude. Yonr brothers
in Christian love. WILLIAM C. BLAIR.
JAMES HOLMES.
* In cases in which any of the scholars leave
the school others are selected in their places.
The Treasurer of the Missionary Society
of the Synod of South Carolina and Geor
gia, acknowledges the receipt of the fol
lowing sums, for the month ending 3!sl
March, 1825, viz:
Collection in Second Presbyterian
Church, Monthly Concert of Pray
er. $35 00
Auxiliary Society Gilder’s Creek,
Newberry District, per Rev. John
! R. Kennedy. 17 00
Duncan’s Creek Congregation, Lau
rens District, per Rev. John B.
Kennedy. 16 75
Donor’s name not mentioned,per do. 200
Rev. John B. Kenedy, subscription 6 00
Mr. Jas. Aiken, Treasurer of Sab
bath School Association Second
Presbyterian Church, for educa
ting Indian youths, Robert Raikes
and Artemas Boies. GO 00
Chickasaw Juvenile Society, for two
quarterly payments for educating
Indian youths, Christopher Coles,
Josiah Smith, aod Joseph Alonzo
Tyler, due Ist Feb. per Master
Donald J. Auld, Treasurer. 45 00
Two collections Third Presbyterian
Church, Monthly Concert of Pray
er, per Thos. Flemming, Esq. 27 37
CHARLES O’NEALE, Treasurer.
A PREMIUM OFFERED!
We have been authorized by a gentle
man of this city, to offer a premium of fifty
dollars for the best Esay on “ The impor
txnce of the Sabbath, considered merely as a
civil Institution .” The communications
post paid, must be seut to the editors of this
paper on or before the Ist of September
next.
Each writer is requested to mark his
communication, and place a corresponding
mark on the sealed paper containing hi*
name; no paper containing the name will
be opened but that of the writer of the suc
cessful Essay. The other communications
will be disposed of agreeably to the request
of the writers.
The gentlemen appointed to decide on
tbe merits of the Essays, and to award the
premium, are, the Hon. James Kent, the
Rev. Dr. Mathews, and W. W. Woolsev,
Esq. of this city.— JVew York Observer.
Worthy of imitation. —A merchant of this
city, on learning, by tbe late arrivals, of
the advanced price of cotton in England, in
addition to the purchases made on bis own
account, purchased a quantity, the profits
of which be devoted to the funds of tbe Do
mestick Missionary Society: aod on the
day following presented tbe Treasurer of
that Society with the sum of One Hundred
aod Ninety Seven Dollars Fifty-Five Cents,
being the net profits of the sale. lb.
The African Colony. —A gentleman, late
from Africa, writes thus to a clergyman in
Philadelphia;—“The intelligence is most
encouraging which bn3 arrived from Africa.
Unexampled prosperity now exists in the
Colony, and God has blest it, with an ear
nest attention to the things of religion.
About 30 have made a profession of faith in
Christ since 1 left the Colony.”
We have the pleasure to announce Ita
publication of the first number of the “Af
ritan Repository and Colonial Journal
This periodical work will be published
monthly, under the direction of the Board
of the American Colonization Society. It
is intended as a record of the proceedings
of the Society, and of whatever relates to
tbe progress and condition of the colony at
Monrovia. It will also contain what infor
mation may be collected, from time to time,
of the history, customs, and character of
the nations of Africa. This first number
does great credit to tbe tßste and industry
of Mr. Gurley, tbe Society’s Agent at this
place, and it is hoped that the succeeding
numbers will be equally interesting, which
will insore a large subscription to the work,
the profits of which are to be applied to tbe
objects of the Society.— Nat. Journal.
The Rev. Dr. Griffin, in his eloquent
speech before tbe American Eduction So
ciety, at its late meeting io New York,
appealed to “the sex, who, like minister
ing angels, love to hover about the cham
bers of sickness”—who owe so much to
Christianity ; and introduced tbe following
beautiful quotation—
Not she with trait'rous kiss her Saviour stung,
Not she denied him with unholy tongue;
She, when apostles shrunk,could dangers brave,
Last at the cross, and earliest at the grave.
George Canning, Prime Minister, of England—
iHe has stricken off the trammels of trade, recog
, nixed the honest efforts of liberty in both hemis
, pheres, and stands pledged to redress the wrongs
j of injured Ireland.
pip* w
Gentlemen —I send you the following obser
vations for insertion in your paper, whenever you
have nothing better with which to enrich your
columns. If they induce some old bachelor to
Ukc to his side a rib. I r.ro compensated.
Yours truly. * T
That a married life affords more pleasure
in general than single one, is a proposi
tion clearly deducible from sacred writ.—
God, in tbe creation, saw in his wisdom and
goodness that it was not meet for man to be
alone. Hence he brought upon him a pro
found slumber, extracted one of his ribs,
and made woman. Although our progeni
tor Adam possessed all things else which
the bounty of his Maker had so graciously
bestowed upon him, and was the invested
lord of this lower creation, yet the king
doms of this world, with all the treasures
thereof, together with the company of at
tendant angels, who administered to him in
paradise, could not compensate him for ti e
loss he sustained in being deprived of the
society of his lovely Eve !
“ Without the smile from partial beauty won,
0 what were man ?—a world without a sun.”
The universal usages of inankindspnght
be appealed to in confirmation of the supe
riority of the matrimonial state, either as
it regards our honour, security or felicity.
In every age the marital rights have been
partially recognized and appreciated,
wherever man has assumed his appropri
ate rank m the world. Society cannot well
exist without a doe observance of them ;
for the marriage union is the cradle of ot
sympathies, the school of our morality,
where our first ideas are received and] our
first principles implanted. It for tm the
most powerful cement of human govern
ment. It is the proper state of mankind.-!
Tbe gates of happiness are closed against
the single man—he enjoys only half exis
tence, and lives like a drone or snail, plod
ding on his weary way to a distant country,
beyond the cheerless visions of this world’s
prospects. He feels no influence beyond
his own narrow shell which covers him ; a
contracted, selfish being, he lives and dies
an entire stranger to the “ concealed com
forts locked up in woman’s, love.”
While in a state of celibacy he is also
more exposed to the destructive vices of
the world ; has not tbe same apprehensions
of character ; the same jealous regard for
reputation, knowing that he can fly from
reproach, hating no family to share in his
disgrace, or prevent his ignominious flight.
The rutty old bachelor, who has wasted
his youth and exhausted bis energies in tbe
chase of false felicities, never fails to re
pent when it is too late, of the mistaken
views of his life. Uhe rich ?He has little
enjoyment in his wealth—a small portion of
this world’s goods is all that he can really
enjoy. The residue is publick property at
(he expense of individual toil, deprivation
and wretchedness. He has no fond partner
for whom to provide, and no “ little ones
to climb his knees the envied kiss to share,”
and to inherit when thi9 struggle of life is
over, tbe rich rewards of hi* industry.
Is he in adversity ? He has no one to
comfort him ; no seraph form is seen hov
ering over his couch of affliction to pour in
to hie sick soul tbe balm of consolation !
he compelled to labour for a
and thereby discouraged from enteriogm
to the married 9tate ? When he returns to
his cottage after a toilsome day’s fatigue,
“ dreoched perhaps with rain or hung with
icicles,” he has no one to greet him at bis
coming. He may find a cheering fire to
warm bis shivering limbs ; but he has no
lovely inmate to enkindle in his heart the
pure flame of affection !
But does not the sun shine upon the sin
gle man with as much native lustre ? Do
not the birds sing as sweet, and the stores
of nature yield as bountiful supplies as for
the married man ? So far as the mere grat
ification of bis senses is concerned, it may/
be true ; but he ha 9 not those pleasing
•ociations in the enjoyment of these objects
which arise to the married man, from the
consideration of“ wife, children & friends;”
and which enhance his blessings and give a
charm to every object enjoyed by him.—
No matter how arduous the performance of
the multiplied duties which the comfort of
these fond objects of bis regard may impose
upoo him, be encounters them all with for
titude—for great is his reward—the smile
of innocence, the approbation of a good
conscience, and the sparkling eye of affec
tionate gratitude, are tbe recompense of his
labours and the solace of his weary limbs !
The cares of the married man are not
so much increased as they seem to be ; they
only assume a tangible shape and outward
form ; and spur him on to the field of useful
enterprise. They are unlike the secret,
corroding, heart-rending agonies which
prey upon tbe peace, and fiealth and hap
piness of the single man.
Even upon tbe score of interest the ad
vantage lies on the side of matrimony. It