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It oni the American fatal Oilman.
TO HIE SAILOR.
Far, far oVr t. mpost driven waves,
i l.c Sailor nobly, t horny braves.
No cloud of sioi ms, thal darkly flies,
Inn dii .;h n mage in his eyes —
‘ l-’iMir V; . ofdatiger’ and the storm,
AMiv hate ye tlms your manly form,
And tempt inclement ski.-s?
Why now aloft on treacherous shroud,
Sing ye so merrily and loud?
That echo —fairy of the air,
Wakes enchantment rich and rare,
A nl bears it on the cloud.
Is danger thus fainili;.: grown?
Herd, need, ve not t! . cloudy frown,
That spreads its gloomy influence
round,
And gives to light a dai ker bound,
Than desolations own?
Wild, w ild o’er ocean rules the wind,
Like the maniac terrors o’er the mind,
Thy ships careering to the gale,
Now dips in ocean Hag anil sail,
Now lulls with dooming dread, the
mast,
And death shrieks mingle with the
blast,
(> who can tell the talc !
Now, now, () Heaven ! the dreary light
That chills the heart, that blasts the
sight,
Cast from the rocky skirted shore,
Where angry w aves grow bright before
The bark, at mercy of the blast,
Without the helm, or sailor mast
Or help of anchor more.
Sailor, there is a Light for thee
Vet kindly lingers on the sea *,
Tho’ rude the storm or rough the wave
And shipwreck terrors round thee lave
Till/ (Lnl is still with Hire.
THE SERPENT—From Dr. Cross.
The serpent alone is an anomaly
in the midst of animals, and forms
an interruption in the gradation—a
break in the continuousness of their
system. That an animal of such
passions and powers should be
necessitated to trail its length in
close prostration over the earth’s
roughness, is quite unaccountable
upon natural principles, but tallies
well with the doom recorded in
sacred writ: “Thou art cursed
above all cattle, and above every
beast of the field ; upon thy belly
shah thou go.” The sentence pro
nounced seems to imply that the
animal had originally possessed
feet, which either were, as a penal
forfeiture, stricken off', or allowed
to decay through disuse, conse
quent on the assumption of the
i\ ing posture. W hethef this animal
w as chosen, on account of its cru
elty, as the most suitable instrument
for effecting the diabolical purpose
against mankind, or whether the
cold cruelty of that animal, now
become proverbial, mav have partly 7
resulted from the Divine curse;
certainly the arch-fiend could not
possibly have received a truer rep
resentative in the shape of flesh
and blood. The lachrymal gland
for supplying tears is altogether
wanting ; and generally the salivary
glands, instead of saliva, furnish
venom, of which the fangs are the
conduits and innoculators. Os be
nignity there is none—of sympathy
there is none—of remorse there is
none. Well was that glistening
and variegated surface calculated
to delude artless, credulous woman,
from suspecting those eyes without
a tear —and those ears deaf to the
shriek > of fear, and to the groans
of agon\ —and that heart, through
which live blood that circulates is
told—and that mouth, whose sole
du‘\ is to grasp, and w bile grasping
to poison—and that throat which
opens wide for devouring—and
ihat maw, so insatiable as to glut
itself, at every meal, into a long
continued lethargy.
INTERESTING A C COUNT
Os the
Religious Ceremony of taking the Veil.
From a volume of Travels m Spain,
by an Englishman, just published, a
London paper selects the following
i own ful description of the glowing
i assiors, tal! human, l.r.ifdivine widen
are eye* ted in the bosom of a youthful
female destined to monastic seclusion,
j,i;(| of tin solemn ceremonies that ac
lompany lo r final renunciation of the
“Wot id.— .A n t . Egis.
There is an extreme eagerness in
the Catholic professors of celibacy,
both male and female, to decoy
voting persons into the toils Irotn
which they themselves cannot es
cape. —W ith this view they have
disguised the awful ceremony,
which cuts off an innocent gii 1 from
the sweetest hopes of nature, with,
the pr.mp and gaycty which man
kind have unanimously bestowed
on tlie triumph of legitimate love.
i !ie whole process which condemns
a female “ to wither on the virgin
•thorn, ,r and “ live a barren sister
all her life,” is studiously made to
represent a wedding. The unc< ™“
scious victim, generally m her fif
teenth year, finds herself, lor some
time previous to her taking the veil,
the queen—nay, the idol of the
whole community which has ob
tained her preference. She is con
stantly addressed by the name of
bride,’ and sees nothing but gay pre
parations for the expected day of
her spiritual nuptials. Attired in
a splendid dress, and decked with •
all the jewels of her lumily and I
friends, she takes public leave of
all her acquaintances, visits, on her
wav to the convent, several othei
nunneries to be seen and admiied
by the recluse inhabitants, and even]
the crowd which collects in her
progress follows her with tears and
with blessings. As she approach
es the church of her monastery, the
dignified ecclesiastick who is to
perform the ceremony, moots the
intended novice at the door, and
leads her to the altar anv.d the
sounds of bells and musical instru
ments. The monastic weeds are
blessed by 7 the priest to her pres
ence ; and having embraced her
parents and nearest relations, she
is led by the lady who acts as
bride’s maid to the small door next
to the double grating, which sepa
rates the nuns’ choir from the body 7
of the church. A curtain is drawn
while the abbess cuts ofl the hair of
the novice, and strips her of her
worldly ornaments. On the re
moval of the curtain she appears in
the monastic garb, surrounded by
the nuns bearing lighted tapers,
her face covered with the white
veil of probationship, fixed on the
head by a wreath of flowers. After
the tr deuin, or some other hymn of
thanksgiving, the friends of the fa
mily adjourn to the locator if, or vis
iting-room, where a collation of
ices and sweet meats is served in
the presence of this mock bride,
who, with tiie principal nuns, at
tends behind the grating, which se
parates the visitors from the in
mates of the convent, in the more
austere convents, the parting visit is
omitted, and the sight of the novice
in the white veil, immediately after
having her hair cut off, is the last
which, for a whole year, is granted
to the parents. They again see her
on the day when she binds herself,
with the irrevocable vows, never to
behold her more, unless they should
live to see her again crowned with
flowers, when she is laid in the
grave.
Instances of novices quitting the
convent during the year of proba
tion are extremely rare. Ibe cere
mony of taking the veil is too sol
emn, and bears too much the char
acter of a public engagement, to al
low full liberty of choice during
the subsequent noviciate. The ti
mid mind of a girl shrinks lrom the
idea of appearing again in the
world, under the tacit reproach of
fickleness and relaxed devotion. —
The nuns, besides, do not forget
their arts during the nominal trial
of the victim, and she lives a whole
year the object of their caresses.—
Nuns, in fact, who after profession,
would ha\e given their lives for a
day of free breathing out of their
prison, it has been my misfortune
to know; but 1 cannot recbllect
more than one instance of a novice
quitting a convent; and that was a
woman cf obscure birth, on whom
public opinion had no influence.
That many nuns, especially in the
more liberal convents, live happy, I
have every reason to believe ; but
on the other hand, I possess indu
bitable evidence of the exquisite
misery which is the lot of some un
fortunate females under similar cir
cumstances. 1 shall mention only
one case in actual existence, with
which I am circumstantially ac
quainted.
A lively and interesting girl of
fifteen, poor, though connected with
some of the first gentry in this town,
having received her education un
der an aunt who was at the head of
a wealthy, and not austere, Fran
ciscan convent, came out, as the
phrase is, ’to see the world,’ pre
vious to her taking the veil, i often
met the intended novice at the
house of one of her relations, which
1 visited daily. She had scarcely
been a fortnight out of the cloister,
when that world she had learned to
abhor in description, was so Visi
bly and rapjrlly winning her affec
tions, that at the end of three months
she could hardly disguise her av vi
sion to the veil. Ihe day,howey er
was now fast approaching which
had been fixed for the ceremony,
without her feeling sufficient reso
lution to decline it. Her lather, a
good hut weak man, she knew too
well could not protect her from the
ill treatment of an unfeeling moth
er, whose vanity was concerned in
thus disposing of a daughter for
whom she had no hopes of finding
a suitable match. The kindness of
her aunt, to whom the distressed
girl was indebted for the happiness
of her childhood, formed besides,
too strong a contrast with the un
kindness of the unnatural mother,
not to give her wavering mind a
strong, though painful bias towards
the cloister. To this were added
all the arts of pious seduction so
common among the religious of
both sexes. The preparations for
the approaching solemnity were, in
the same time, industriously got
forward with the greatest publicity.
Verses were circulated, in which
her confessor sang the triumph of
Divine Love over the wily sugges
tions of the impious. The wedding
dress was shown to every acquaint
ance, and due notice of the appoin
ted day was given to friends and
relatives. But the fears and aver
sion of the devoted victim grew in j
proportion as she saw hersell more I
and more involved in the toils she
had wauled courage to burst when
site first felt them.
ft was iti company with my friend
Leandro, with whose private history
you are well acquainted, that 1 often ;
met the unfortunate .Maria Francisco, j
His efforts to dissuade her from the j
rash step she was going to t ike, and ;
the warm language ii which he spoke j
to her father on that subject, had made j
her look, upon him as a warm and sin- j
cere friend. The unhappy gill, on the !
eve of the day when she was to take j
the veil, repaired u> the church, and j
sent him a message, without, mention
ing fier name, that a female pendent
requested his attendance at the con
fessional. YYitu painful surprise he
found the future novice at his feet, in
u .-hue bordering on distraction.—
When a flood oi tears allowed her ut
terance, she told him that for want of
another friend in the whole world to
whom she could disclose her feelings,
she came to him, not, however, for the
purpose of confession, but because site
trusted he would listen with pity to
her sorrows. YY ith a warmth and elo
quence, above her y .ars, she proto ted
that the distant tenors of eternal pun
ishment, which she feared might be
the consequence of her determination,
could not. deter her from the step by
which she was going to escape the in
cessant persecution of her mother.—
in vain did my friend volunteer his
assistance to extricate her from the
appalling difficulties which surround
eel her j m vain did he offer to wait
upon the archbishop, and implore his
interference ; no offers, no persuasions
could move her. She parted as it
ready to take the scaffold, and the next
day she took the veil.
The real kindness of her aunt, and
the treacherous smiles of the other
nuns, supported the pining novice
through the year of probation. The
scene I beheld when she was bound
with the perpetual vows of monastick
life, is one which 1 cannot recollect
w ithout an actual sense of suffocation.
A solemn mass, performed with all the
splendour, winch that ceremony ad
mits, preceded the awful oaths of the
novice. At the conclusion of the ser
vice, she approached the Superior of
the order. A pen, gaily ornamented
with artificial flowers, was put into her
trembling hand, to sign the engage
ment for life, on which she was about
to enter. Then standing Before the
iron grate of the choir, she began to
chant, in a weak and tainting voice,
the act of consecrating of herself to
God ; but having uttered a few words,
she fainted in the arms of the surroun
ding nuns. This was attributed to
mere fatigue and emotion. No soon
er had the means employed, restored
to the victim the power ol speech, than
with a vehemence which those who
knew not her circumstances attributed
to a fresh impulse of holy z.eal, and in
which the lew that were in the painful
secret saw nothing but the madnessNof
despair, she hurried over the remain
ing sentences, and sealed her doom for
ever.
The real fceliNgs of the new vota
ress were, however, too much suspect
ed by her more bigoted or more re
signed fellow-prisoners; and time and
despair making her less cautious, she
was soon looked upon as one likely to
bring disgrace on the whole order, bv
divulging the secret that it is possible
for a nun to feel impatient under her
vow s. The storm ot conventional per
secution (the fiercest and most pitiless
„1 alt that breed in the human heart,
had been lowering over the umnpp;
young woman dor.ng the snort tun
which her aunt, the Prioress, survived.
Hut when death had left her friend
less, and exposed to the tormenting
ingenuity of a crowd ol female zealots,
whom she could not escape for an in
stant ; unable to endure her misery,
she resolutely attempted to drown
herself. The attempt, however, was
ineffectual. And now the merciless
character of Catholic superstition ap
peared in its full glare. The mother,
without impeaching whose character,
no judicial step could be taken to
prove the invalidity of the profession,
was dead; and some relations and
friends of the poor prisoner were mo
ved by her sufferings to apply to the
church for relief. A suit was institu
ted for this purpose before an ecclesi
astical court, and the clearest evi
dence adduced ot the indirect com
pulsion which had been used in the
case, but the whole order of St. Fran
cis considering their honor at stake,
rose against their rebellious subject,
and the Judges sanctioned their vowN
as voluntary and valid.—She lies still
in a state approaching to madness, and
death alone can break her cliaius.
Providential Deli verance — Amon g
the scenes of terror of which
Smyrna has been at different times
the theatre since the commence
ment of the Greek insurrection, the
following effecting circumstance
occurred: —While the murderers
were forcing in the doors ol hou
ses with their carbines, a poor
Catholic family, in the neighbor
hood of these massacres, was in a
desperate situation. False security
had hitherto made them neglect the
necessary precautions. Ihe un
happy father did not perceive his
error till his door was pierced
through and through by a shower
of musket balls. - The only means
that remained to save his wife and
numerous family from inevitable
destruction, was to escape over the
roofs of ihe houses. The moments
were precious; the door was al
ready giving way to the efforts of
the assailants. Taking his young
est son in his arms, he climbed from
his own to the next roof, followed
by his trembling wife with an irufant
at her breast; and after her bis four
daughters. But this flight was
: soon interrupted by a cross street.
! The> already heard, on the neigh
i boring terraces, the furious cries
of their pursuers ; it was necessary
jto venture the dangerous passage
’ over the street. The father, inspi
; red with new strength, pulled a
; plank from the adjoining house,
and laid it across the street; so
that it rested on the two opposite
roofs, and oifered a narrow, inse-
I cure bridge to this unfortunate fam
! ily. But the imminent danger of
falling was not the onlv one that
threatened them; the street thev
had to cross was that in which the
shot, the cause of the tumult, had
been fired. I< was full of furious
lurks, whose continual firing
alarmed them. But they had not
time to consider. At last one of
the daughters ventured on the nar
row board ; but at her first step an
hundred muskets were discharged
at her. However, she reached the
opposite roofs without injury; and
hei sister who followed was equally
fortunate Meanwhile the rest of
the family were discovered by the
furious Turks on the neighboring
roofs, and a shower of balls from
that side also assailed the unhappy
fugitives. Urged by alarms from
all quarters, they all crowded at
once on the frail bridge, which at
first they hardly thought would
support one person. All the shots
were now directed to the same
point, and pierced in many places
the board which bent under their
weight; but it seemed as if Provi.
dence covered with his tegis this
unhappy family; not one was
wounded : all reached the opposite
roofs, and thence the residence of
an European family; where the
father, exhausted by exertion and
mental agitation, as soon as he
found himself in safety, fainted
away.
From the N. Y. Daily Advertiser.
Canal of Darien —lt is well known
that many have imagined that it is
practicable to cut a canal across
the Isthmus of Darien, the dividing
line of North and South America,
i’he Isthmus is only about sixt\
miles wide from the Atlantic on
one side to the Pacific on the other.
il_this scheme could be effected,
the benefits which the North Ame
rican States, anti many parts ol
Atlantic South America would de
rive from it, would be ol immense
advantage to the trade with the
Pacific regions, and the commerce
with China and the East Indies.
Strong objections to the feasibility
of this plan have been urged, re
sulting lrom the supposed nature
of the soil, which is by some as
serted to be extremely rocky, and
difficult of excavation for the pur
poses of constructing a canal.
Whether these objections are or
are not true to the alledged extent,
is not perfectly ascertained. But
even admitting them to be true,
they do not demonstrate the im
practTcability of a canal in that quar
ter, provided certain accounts of
that section of country (which have
at least the appearance of authenti
city) are correct. From thence it
would seem that nature has by
means of rivers and bays, nearly
completed a canal of her ow-n con
struction. The following are some
of the accounts to which references
can be made by those who leel in
terested on the subject:
Extracts translated from volume third
of the “ Geographical and Historical
Dictionary of the Western Indies
of America namely, Peru, New
Spain, Terra Finna, Chili, and New
Grenada —by Colonel Don Antonio
de Alcado, captain of Spanish
Guards, and member of the Royal
Historical Academy, printed at
Madrid 1788, by license of gov
ernment.
“ Mandinga —a small town or set
tlement, of the province and govern
ment of Panama, and kingdom of
Terra Finna. It is situated on the
bank of the river Mandinga, near its
entrance into the sea, and is placed on
j the top of a mountain, where there is
j established a look out or watch
itower, from which they inform the
I governor of Panama what vessels they
see approaching. The river Mandinga
; rises in the mountains of Chepo and
runs east until it discharges itseif into
j the bay to which it gives its name.
The course of the river is only four
leagues, and the navigation of it is
prohibited under penalty of death, on
account of the facility that it affords
; to a passage to the South Sea, which
was effected through its means by the
1 pirates or buccatners, John Guarlem,
: Edward Blomen, and JJarliiolemew
Sharp, in the year 1679.
The Hay of Mandinga, on the coast
of the province and government of
Darien and tlie South Sea, in the same
l kingdom is large handsome and well
.sheltered —it has many little islands,
j both in middle of the bay and on its
j shores.
Santa Maria —a town in the Pro
vince and Kingdom of Terra Finna,
; established there in the proximity of
j the rich gold mines discovered in that
j district, it abounds in herds of swine
; and different kinds of vegetables. It
j lies in the most interior part of the
j gulf of St. Michael, near the coast of
! the South Sea and at the entrance of
j the river Tuira. In the year 1680 this
■ town was sacked by the pirates, who
. destroyed the fort built to defend the
I mines and town. This place is in
! seven degrees and fifty minutes of
| latitude, in two hundred and ninety
nine decrees ot longitude.
NOTICE.
nn HE Subscriber informs the Citi
-1 zens of 8188 COUNTY that his
books being now open, he is ready to
receive their returns of taxable prop
erty. He will be found at the store
of Capt. A. Meriwether when not ab
sent on his official duty.
Jonathan Jl. Hudson, H T. /?.
March 31 2—ts
The Subscriber begs \ea\e
to inform the citizens of Clinton and
New l'ovvn, and their vicinities, that
he carries on the Baking business, and
will supply both places with
AND
at such stated periods os may suit
their convenience. He hopes by as
siduity and a competent knowledge of
the business, to obtain the greater part
of public patronage.
ROBERT AD JIMS.
N. B. Orders will be furnished at
short notice and on liberal terms.
March 21st 1 3t
Writs, Sheriffs Deeds,
common do.
Sheriffs WvV.s of Sa\e v
Juror’s Summons,
Justice’s do.
do. Executions,
Subpoenas, Gamuts, &lc.*
for side - v \t tins office,