The messenger. (Fort Hawkins, Ga.) 1823-1823, March 21, 1823, Image 4

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*■•**•.- *> r >'*, r v- > %VVt i !/ ...J Vi -Uv. V •’ ■* I row tlif .V. I. • S, J ; ("'ti'li'V. Tin: PILOT'S SONG. O'er (lit* ocean silently I cfcrruL tl*** gentle sVm*f nfoven; The no>m has ri‘>( ,, i from 1 *• -■’a > ii:(• i tin* brut t! and deep Llnc heaven ; Ami from her airy wandering, ] • kr* n failin': flaked snow, The sea hint tests her weary wing Oil the Inllov. “s quiet How. Vet ere the da v-beam left the shies, Aml twilight veil'd the ocean o'yr, AN e saw from yon him* bnlow lire, Far, far and faint, our native shore ; How throhb'd earli bosom nt the sound, Tlie exulting sea bov *> shout above, As far, upon the wide waves bound, Burst into sight the land we love ! Athwart (he wave, the beacon light, Shoots brightly forth its twinkling ray, And sweetly onward thro’ the night, Its star-like” lustre lights our way : The heavens are light, the wave is low. And mild winds gently bear uso or The azure waste, with morning's glow, AYe tread again our native shore ! From c London Vnpcv. TIIM M AIUXKK'S SONG. A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows last, And fills the .white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boy “While like the eagle free, Away the good ship Hies, und leaves Old England on the lee. 0 for a soft and gentle wind I I heard a fair one cry ; Hut give tome the snoring’ breeze, And white waves heaving high ! And white wave hcavinghigh, tnyboys The good ship tight and tree, The world ol watcis i.- our home, And merry men are we. Tl lore's tempest in yon horned moon, And lightning in yon cloud; And hark the music, mariners, The wind is piping loud ; The wind is j iping loud, my boys, The lightning Hashes free, While the hollow oak our palace is, Our heritage the sea. FROM THE LONDON LIIF.HARY GAZETTE THE TREAD MILL. Reflections Metaphysical, Rliysiologi cal, ami Moral, excited during a pro tracted commitment to the labour ,)’ the Tread Mill. In order to introduce myself with due formality to the humane reader, I have to observe that 1 was found guil ty of the crime for v huh I was at - laigued—in the emphatic language of the Recorder, “ after a patient and im partial trial, by the testimony (and re - spectable ami unvarying witnesses, by a mild and intelligent Judge, and by a merciful arid considerate Jury; anil nns sentenced to six months hard la bour in the Tread Mill. My first ap penrance on those boards was in Mjivli last. On the evening previously to inv dehut, the keepoi came to me and said that on the fob >\viug morning, at l,a!f-| ast seven, ir.y attendance would be required in company with toner performers. There is a!way s consid erable interrst produced by new situ ations and modes <d employment; anil on that occasion the interest partook more of alarm than ol cutiositv. M\ inquiries were directed to asc rtain it there required any particular talent to! < ompi elicnd, or dexterity o! iunn to i .ecute the task that had been assign ed. The keeper iis-iwvd me that the r h formance was i.daptjM to the mean est capacities: “Sir, it only consists in putting the best foot lorcniAs* : you have onlv to consider vourselt n a inarching regiment it nquiics no previous study ; adding, that in one particular it might be compared to f witmniiigi which is liev ei Jot goth u : .Mild that the latter result was the ob ject of the contriver. At the appoint- Vd hour in the morning 1 aseftuled a few steps which conducted me to my appointed station on the Mill. Dor society was select, and tlad in the same uniform ; and it gave me sincere pleasure to find that neither competi tion nor jealousy existed, although we all wore the yellow stocking. A pro found silencewas maintained for the first three hours, when the person who v.-orhed < n inv right band said, they in tend to convert this into a con.-mui. ‘t he person on ivy left, ove beating him, replied, it is a cursed contri vance tor coins, my feet are blisteitd vlri'adv. ‘1 lirouglmut the toilsome tra nd of the day, 1 observed, with saiis bu tion, that no man made a false step. At half past tour m the after noon the day’s performance concluded. }l\ degrees l became better acquain ted with n.v associates, the majority ot whom concurred in reprobating the invention ; they considered it impossi ble to t fleet a moral reformation by teaching a man to be a foot pad. hut theic were some so physically callous /e.” I “orally :!'iivl''"t(ing l < ia‘ the dis ( i’,li;.i si vino:! to make not. t iO -light* cst impression on {iieirhndie.- or minds. \ follow, v!to was a bimp-lighter, iautlied at 11 it* labor; lie said it was iviic!i easier than bis own trade, non no should consider the period of his commitment os an Holliday. A short t'.mk sit lad, who was a pot-bov, de clared that drawing bver all day and fho part of the right was much mure fatiguing. A chimney sweeper said, it was a clean and genteel profes sion ; and a Radical alluded to admire the invention, because it proceeded on revolutionary principles. A humor ous chap, who was clasically educa ted, and had a poetical turn, called the nil! the gracilis ud Fuvnassnw, and die labor, scanning. Suffice it to say, lll,it the same unvarying and monoto nous rotation continued during the pe riod of my commitment. It now remains to communicate the reflections Unit occurred while I was a working bee in this hive ot lelorm. For the first week the treading v as distressing, and accompanied, with considerable pain and stillness in the calves of the legs and muscles of the thighs ; this, however, gradually dimin ished, and in the course of a month, 1 performed the labor with alacrity, and imly view ed if as a species of training. The appetite was much increased : but for this salutary symptom there was no extra provision, the means <i satis fving the increase being denied. As the toil proceeded, the thread <>i ule, vvr.9 spun from a staple progressively, finer-; and when the six months had expired, a very delicate filament ap peared to connect together the body ami the soul. I liis labor, w ith restrii - ted diet, w ould be a certain remedy in cases of obesity ; and the millwright be safely recommended to the Court | of Aldermen aid their deputies, mas- 1 ti is and wardens, overseers and sides- j men, butchers’ wi'is, and landladies in the districts of W sprung. That the Tread Mill, under proper regulations, may become a valuable agent in the cute ol chronic disorders, there is every reason to expect; and it is tube hoped that valetudinarians may lie accommodated with some es tablishments ior this purpose. In wet weather, under proper shelter, sufii eieiit exercise might be taken in the open air without the chance ot catch ing cold ; and as the circular wheel re sembles the cylinder of a hand organ, a trilling expense would tarnish a set of delightful tunes, commencing with solemn adagios and progressively ad vancing to the gayer movements of ;; v.alt/.. Time, and the rapid match ot j intellect, will at some future period dev elope the improvements ol win h this salutary engine is susceptible.— The effects produced on the mind by tln’ operation ot the 1 read Mill are highly interesting, and deserve to be accurately communicated. Although it may be described as the dull unva ried toil that excruti. es the spirit and lenders the passing moments tiresome and disgusting, yet. it has very peculi ar effects on the intellectual powenk As perceptions in a great degree qui escent, there are abundant opportuni ties for reflection. The eye dwells only in the boards that form a paling to intercept the v iew ; conversation is prohibited, so (hat the. ear is unoccupi ed except bv exclamations, shoit sen tences or curses. Independently of the strict injunc tion to preserve silence, there is a phy siological lcason for the stillness that prevails. In all states ot exertion, where the labour exhausts the strength, ait; hi is the order ot the day —the res piration is too actively employed to permit a sufficient supply ol breath lor continued articulation. That faculty of the mind which is termed attention becomes wonderfully improved, and in consequence the memory is enabled to revert to the former i.n dents of life with the greatest accuracy, and I eep the immediate subject of thought steadily in contemplation. One ot my comrades, who was a strolling player, rehearsed maiiv parts while in the act of treading, and, by his own account, with greater facility than he had ever done before ; and this he explained, by ascribing it to the relict he experienc ed while “ plodding” round about “ his weary way,”*in fixing his atten tion on those dramatic scenes with which he had heretofore his memory. He pleasantly called it learning by rote. JAterc.ru Rhysicians.— it is remarkable that of ail men of letters who pursue anv profession, none so willingly quit their avocations, to write on other matters as Physicians. Ficinnius has given a latin version of Plato, and ex plained his system. Julius bcaliger, who was a doctor in physic, has writ ten much criticism. Renault, the an tagonist of Koihau, translated A itru \ins, and gave public lectures on geometry and architecture. Akensidc and Armstrong are celebrated lor their poetrv; and Doctor Smollett had more frequently his pen, than the pulse of a patient iu his hand. The 7’. cl u fMv'jr l r.lh of J-*Yi •••.’ ./ca in IJohtiuiit’- Ihe village of Adersbach, in Bohemia, is situatv and io a valley, at (lie foot ol the Giant Mountains, at the extraordinary groups ol rocks which rise in its environs, and extend, though with frequent interruptions, as fir as Heuschener. The village hor des on a most beautiful mead, water ed bv a small rivulet, which has its source in the midst ol lids rocky laby rinth. It is bounded on the south by large masses ol rock, which stand up right, contiguous to each other, ami separated only by crevices ol different widths. A great number of them are one hundred feet or upwards, and {'re sent forms which are singularly diver sified. dome of them resemble works of irf, as columns, walls, towers ; some are bounded nt the top by irregular move lines, though their sides are as perpendicular as if they had been cut by a lev l l. Others are bent in all di rections, and their craggy summits, which hang in the air, threaten to <!c frei and every moment lroiu their peril ous abode. Some of them stand upon an inn icnse base, and diminish as they rise, while others retain the same uni forni dimensions from their bases to their s. 1 mmits. The bases of many ol them r e rounded by the action oi the waters. Tie most remarkable of these rocks is ‘that commonly called “ The inverted Sngarloaf,” an appellation which sufficiently designates itssingu lar form; arid many Notated pillars which, though, only a few feet in dia meter at the base, elevate themselves amid their compeers, like a range of cliint.v s. ‘1 he moment we enter this labyrinth, wc pcoeived on all sides groups of rocks which surprise us the more be cause we are not in a situation to exa mine their height am! extent. They encircle a beautiful mead, which muv be* considered the vestibule of the labyrinth. An old honest forester generally serves as guide to those whose curiosi ty leads them to explore this romantic labyrinth. Thrv follow a path which is covered in many places, with sand and rubbish from fragments of the lock. This path, which is sometimes twenty feet wide, and sometimes not more than two, continues its course through innumerable windings be tween me perpendicular groups and those masses which,like walls, enclose them on the right and left. A person is frequently oldiged to crawl across the intervals, above which the rocks lean one avainst the oilier. The ima gination of the old conductor has dis r jvert > in :he most irregular masses resemblances to a palace, a church, a t: nasti rv, a pulp.it, and uu infinity of other objectn. By this happy disco very he hopes to render them more worthy the observation of the carious. In this labyrinth,;! pers.m is obliged to go continually’ zigzag ; one time lie walks on the naked sand, a! another on the moss and flowery turf; at one time he passes under low saplings, at another lie pursues the course of little rivulets, whose smooth and limpid wa ters follow the multiplied sinuosities of their course. These little streams are, i:i many places, provided with lil tle h idges or crossed bv planks, for the convenience of those who explore this little mysterious world. After j jouiiieviug about a league and a half, | the travel;cram*es ataplace extreme-1 t v cool and agreeable, ornamented’ with sapplingy, hung with all sorts of mosses and plants, and closed up on all sides by tremendous rocks. The loud murmuring of a rivulet, which precipitates from a sort of basin, adds an inexpressible charm to the delights of solitude, l.'uderneath two lofty saplings, near a fountain as cool and transparent as imagination can con ceive, stands a table, a bench, and some seats formed out of the rock.— This place is frequently rendered the scene of fie tive happiness, and is fre quently greeted by morning visitants, who come to breakfast there. The re past is rendered delicious by the a grceable coolness of the place, which invigorates the animal faculties in a surprising manner. From tins resting place there is an ascent bv a narrow opening. The wav is difficult, as it leads over heaps of sand produced by the w recks con tinually falling from the rocks, and which are as friable as the ashes near the crater of a volcano, tor at every step the tr.ivelfcr loses his feet, and sinks in the uncertain sand ; but when be arrives at the top he is more than re compensed by tiie sight of a cascade which precipitates from till* summit of the rocks. The water falls, in its first descent, from a height of £0 feet, on a rock which impedes its perpendicular course,, glides afterwards down a gen tle descent, and completes its course bv flinging itself into the lower basin. Near this stream the rocks have form ed a dirk, and lofty vault, which pre sents a most majestic and terrible aspect. It is a work of many days to tra verse all the different paths which cress this labyrinth; but next to the natural beauties which wc natC a* t *-a* dv described, is an ancient castle it’ ruins, situated in the midst ol those masses of rock, and which, in ail prob ability, served as an asylum for rob bers. The guide, before he takes leave of his company, generally lu es a pistol near the nanow opening by which it is entered. Ihe sound which is rever berated and increased by the oistatii echoes, resembles the rumbling sound o r thunder. The learned are generally agreed as to the origin of the singular forms of these rocks. They imagine that the whole space which they cover was formerly a mountain of .sand, and that a violent irruption of water, forcing a passage through the parts which were less compact, carried them aw'ay, and left, consequently deep spaces be tween the solid masses. Such is the general opinion,but it is still doubtful whether the effect has proceeded from a sudden irruption, arid whether it may not more naturally he traced to that slow but unremitting action of i .Bure, which metamorphoses every thing after a certain lapse of time, though its immediate agency excites no attention. ‘Phe mountain known by the name of Meuscheur, or Heuschaar, forming the southern extremity of this chain, is in Silesia, in the county ol'Giatz., about two mdes and a halt north east of the little town of Reinet/.. In ap proaching the mountain in this direc tion, a most delightful meadow opens at his feet. It is difficult to reach if on this side, though considerable efforts were made in 176a to facilitate the access. The traveller passes con stantly over ledges ot rocks, which are detached mid laid one over another in all directions. Some of them are as large as houses ; others equal churches in magnitude; nor can imagination give its creations a greater diversity of form than these rocks present. The grea er p u t of the rocks are naked, bin at a considerable height we meet a space which has been called “ The Garden,” and which contains trees anil plants of various kinds, flic locks lift, themselves all around, piled one over another. Un the summit of ‘i afelstein, which is one of the most elevated, there is a most interesting and romantic prospect. The rock on which it is fixed is cut perpendicular, like a wal. at a depth of many bundled feet, and extends Through various windings along the frontiers of Bohemia. A balustrade has been erected there, in consequence of its being honored with a visit by the Prince of i'russia. T!a.-t ualosuade leads to the veiy extremity, of the rack, where the spectator may con template with security the de ightful prospect which opens before him in all directions. Under his feet he beholds the lofty mountains extending south and west, and presenting summits which are sometimes rounded, and sometimes terminated in a point.— The extensive prospect carries the eye of the spectator over the distant Brau nau, Nuchod, and a great r.umber of other places in Bohemia, immortalized by the annals of die thirty, arid of the seven years’ war. The traveller has some difficulty, however, in believing that lie lias Bohemia actually before him, for at this immense height the mountains which separate the towns, castles, villages and convents, disap pear from the sight, so that he imagines he perceives nothing but a level and extensive plain. E.vtract from Jlajor Long's Expe dition to the Rocky .Mountains. —Mr. Munroe.a resident of Franklin, related to us that being on a hunting excursion in the year 1810, he remained some time on a branch of the Le Moine river where he found the relics of the en campments of a large party of men, but whether of white troops or Indian warriors he could not determine. Not far from this encampment, he observed a recent mound ol earth, about eight feet in height, which he was induced to believe must be a cache, or place of de posit for the spoils, which the party, occupying the encampment, had taken from an enemy, and which they could not remove with them on their depar ture. lie accordingly opened the mound, and was surprised to find in it the body of a white officer, apparently a man of rank, which had been interred with extraordinary care. The body was placed in a sitting posture upon an Indian rush mat, with its bat k resting against some logs, pla ced around it in the manner of a log house, enclosing a space of about three by five feet, and about four feet high, covered at top with a mat similar to that beneath. ’I he clothing was still in sufficient preservation to enable him to distinguish a red coat trimmed with gold lace, golden epauletts, a spotted buff waist-coat, finished also with gold lace, and pantaloons of white nankeen. On the head was a round beaver hat, and a bamboo walking stick, with the initials J. M. C. engraved upon a gol den head, reclined against the arm, but was somewhat decayed where it came in contact with the nuis-u’tf part of the leg. On raising the i, .Wj it was found the deceased had Hg hastily scalped. To What nation this officer belong H Mr. Munroe could not determine. |p H observed however, tiiat the button ken from the shoulder, bail the word Philadelphia moulded upon it. T h t H cane still remains in the possession ~f H the narrator, but the button was taken H by another of bis party. H In relation to this story, Gen. Smith B observed, that when he commanded B the United States’ troops in this de. B partment, lit* was informed of an action B that had taken place near the* Le Moine S in the autumn of 1815, between some B Spanish dragoons, aided by a lew K Pawnees, and a war party of Sanko B and Foxes: In the course of this action I a Spanish officer had pursued an Indian I bov, who was endeavouring to escape, I with a musket on his shoulder, but who I finding himself nearly overtaken, hail If discharged the musket behind him at I random and had killed the officer on B tlie spot. The skirmish continuing, ■ the body was captured and recaptured ■ several times, but at last remained B with the Spanish party. This mav B possibly have been the body discovered fl by Mr. Munroe, but by whom it was I buried, in a manner so singular, is I unknown. 3 In the prairies of Illinois, opposite I St. Louis are numbers of large mounds. ■ We counted seventy-five in the course 1 of a walk about live miles, which I brought us to the hill, a few years since I occupied by the monks of La Trappe. I This enormous mound lies nearly from I north to south, but it is so overgrown ! with bushes and weeds, interlaced I with briars anil vines, that vve were 1 unable to obtain an accurate account I of its dimensions. I The survey of these productions of I human industry, these monuments I without inscription, commemorating I the existence of a people once mime- I rous and powerful,but no longer known I or remembered, never fails, though I often repeated, to produce an impres sion of sadness. As we stand on these mouldering piles, many of them now nearly obliterated, we cannot but compare their aspect of decay with the freshness of the wide field of na ture, which we see reviving around us: their insignificance, with tlie ma jestic and imperishable features of tlie landscape. AVe feel the insignificance and tlie want of permanence in every tiling human, we are reminded of what has been so often said of the pyramids of Egypt, and may with equal propnV efv be applied to all tlio vuuks o.” wen; “ these monuments must perish, but the grass that grows between their dis jointed fragments, shall be renewed iYom year to year.” From the Trenton Emporium. Retrospection. —There is something inexpressibly sweet in the retrospect of days gone by. \N hen memory, ever active, carries us back to the scent s in which we passsd our boyhood, and places us once more in the midst ot the gay circle of our earliest friends, and c; Its around us a thousand circum stances, in all their minutia, which crowded on our youthful hours, we feci new born upon the lap of time, and al most fancy ourselves once more sport ing in the spring time of our being.- — Fancy, fora moment, strips us ol our grey hairs, and crow ns our brows with garlands, and invigorates our enerva ted limbs, and pours new life and elas ticity into our flagging spirits. And though this retrospect be blended with some shades of sorrow , and though re collection recalls many and still deep er shades of melancholy to tinge the skies of late summers, we gaze to that one bright spot on the area of our exis tence, with still livelier emotions—as one who on a desert coast, where all around is barren and joyless, turns liis weary eye to where, in.the far off hea vens, one little star twinkles through the gathered clouds. Have you ever met an associate of your juvenile days, after years of separation, without feel ing these sensations ? Have you ever gazed on the grass grown grave of one w hom in youth you loved, without feel ing your own kindred to the tomb, and half rejoicing that all who have gone before you to its silent mansions are not strangers —that friends whose countenance you remember and whose affections you once shared are there ? These are the sensations awakened by retrospection in minds feelingly alive loathe tenderest connexions ot life, and sensible of itsnariow and uncertain limits. •Attendance at Church. —A French constitutional priest, who had usually a very small audience, was one day preaching at the church in his \illnge, when the doors being open, a gander and several geese came stalking up the middle aisle. ’lhe preacher availing himself of the circumstance, observed, “ that he could no longer find fault w ith his district for non attendance, because though they did not conn < wmselves they sent their representatives.”