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The admirers of the productions of
Sellcck Osborn, Esq. will be pleased
with lle following elegant little illu
sion, which was occasioned by his see
ing two young ladies frolicking in a
garden, and was found next day de
posited in a bed of flowers : it par
takes highly of that tenderness and
sentiment so conspicuous in his lyric
writings. Host on Statesman .
Sweet playful sisters —tw ins of joy •
Pure hearts with guileless pleasure
beating;
May fate withhold unhlcst alloy,
Nor cloud the morn of youth so fleet
ing :
While pleased T see those cherub forms
Thus gambol innocently sportive,
I breathe a prayer that no rude storms
May make their budding hopes ab
ortive.
Happy the favour’d youths for whom,
Alone those lips shall smile so
sprightly !
For them life’s gayest flowers shall
bloom,
I For them will gladness beam most
brightly.
Life's a dull dance ! but stepp’d with
vou,
’Twould move to notes of livelier
measure;
And heavy care would alter too,
Or take the silken wings of pleasure!
Who that enjoy’d your cherub smiles,
W ould care a figtor fortune’s frown
ing?
W ho would not covet cares and toils,
Which you with such rewards were
crowning ?
grief's hard frost descends on
man,
The genial stream of life congealing,
You smiling charmers, only can
Restore the frozen heart to feeling.
The Fjirest Rose is Far Air a'.
BY J. G. TEIICIVAL.
The morn is blinking o’er the hills
With soften’d light and colours gay;
Through grove and valley sweetly trills
The mciotiy of early day ;
The dewy roses blooming fair
Glitter aiound her father's ha’,
Rut still my Alary is not there—
The fairest rose is far awa\
The cooling zephyrs gently blow
Along the dew-bespangled mead —
In every field the oxen low r
The careless shepherd tunes his reed —
And while the roses blossom lair,
My lute with softly dying fa’
Laments that Mary is not there —
The fairest rose is far awa’.
The thrush is singing on the hills
And charms the groves that wave
around,
And thro’ the vale the winding rills
Awake a softly murmuring sound ;
The robin tunes his mellow throat
W here glittering roses sweetly blow,
But grieves that Mary hears him not —
The fairest rose is far awa’.
“Why breathe thy melody in vain
Thou lovely songster of the morn—
Why pour thy ever-varying strain
Amid the sprays of yonder thorn r
Do not the roses blooming fair,
At morning’s dawn or evening's fa',
Tell thee of one that is not there—
The fairest rose that’s far awa’ ?
ms
FROM HUNTER'S NARRATIVE.
INDIAN ELOQUENCE.
The Speech of Tecumseh among
the Usages, to induce them to unite
and take up the tomahawk against
the settlers, is a striking specimen
of Indian Eloquence. It is thus
mentioned by Mr. Hunter:-
“ When the Ossages and distin
guished strangers had assembled,
Te-cum-seh arose, and after a pause
of some minutes, in which he sur
veyed his audience in a very dig
nified, though respectfully complai
sant and sympathizing manner, he
commenced as follows:
Brothers —We all belong to one
family ; we arc all children of the
Great Spirit; we walk in the same
path ; slake our thirst at the same
spring; and now, affairs of the
greatest concern, lead us to smoke
the pipe aiound the same council
hie!
Brothers —We are friends ; we
must assist each other to bear cur
burdens. The blood of many of
our fathers and brothers has run
like w ater on the ground, to satisfy
the avarice ot the white men. We
ourselves are threatened with a
great evil; nothing will pacify them
hut the destruction of ail the red
men.
Brothers —When the white men
first set foot on our grounds, they
were hungry; they had no place on
which to spread their blankets, or
kindle their fires. They were fee
ble ; they could do nothing lor
themselves. Our fathers commis
erated their distress, and shared
I freely with them whatever the
Great Spirit had given his red chil
dren. They gave them food when
hungry’, medicine when sick, spread
1 skins for them to sleep on, and gave
them grounds that they’ might hunt
and raise corn. Brothers, the white
people are like poisonous serpents ;
when chilled, they are feeble and
harmless ; but invigorate them with
warmth, and they sting their bene
factors to death.
The white people came among us
feeble ; and now we have made them
strong, they wish to kill us, or drive
us back as they would wolves and
panthers.
I; Brothers —The white men arc not
friends to the Indians : at first they
only asked for land sufficient for a
wigwam , now, nothing will satisfy
them but the whole of our hunting
grounds from the rising to the set
ting sun.
Brothers —The white men want
more than our hunting grounds—
they wish to kill our warriors ; they
would even kill our old men, women,
and little ones.
Brothers —Many winters ago,
there was no land—the sun did not
vise and set: 5U w3 darkness.—
The Great Spiridmade all things.— j
He gave the white people a home
beyond the great waters. He sup
plied these grounds with game, and
gave them to his red children, and
he gave them strength and courage
to defend them.
Brothers —My people wish for
peace ; the red men all wish for
peace, but where the white people
are, there is no rest for them, ex
cept it be on the bosom of our mo
ther.
Brothers —The white men despise
and cheat the Indians; they abuse
and insult them ; they do not think
the led men sufficiently good to live,
The red men have borne many
and great injuries; they ought to
suffer them no longer. They will
not; they are determined on ven
geance ; they have taken up the to
mahawk , they will make it fat with
blood—they will drink the blood ot
the white people.
Brothers —My people are brave
and numerous, but the white people
are too strong for them alone. I
wish you to take up the tomahawk
with them. If we all unite, we
will cause the rivers to stain the
great waters with their blood.
Brothers —ls you do not unite
with us, they will first destroy us,
and then you will fail an easy prey
to them. They have destroyed ma
ny nations of red men, because they
were not united, because they were
not friends to each other.
Brothers —The white people send
runners amongst us; they wish to
make us enemies that they may
sweep over, and desolate our hunt
ing grounds, like devastating winds,
or rushing uatei s.
Brothers —Our Great Father, over j
the great waters, is angry with the!
white people, our enemies. He will i
stud his brave warriors against
them ; he will send us rifles, and
whatever else wc want —he is our
friend, and we are his children.
Brothers —Who are the white
men that we should fear them ?
They cannot run fast and are good
marks to shoot at: they are only
men ; our fathers have killed many
of them : we are not squaws, anti
we will stain the earth red with their
blood.
Brothers —The Great Spirit is
augry with our enemies—he speaks
in thunder, and the earth swallows
up villages, and drinks up the Mis
sissippi. The great waters will co
ver their low lands ; their corn can
not grow, and the Great Spirit will
sweep those who escape to the hills,
from the earth, with his terrible
breath.
Brothers —We must be united;
we must smoke the same pipe ; we
must fight each other’s battles ; and
more than all, we must love the
Great Spirit; he is for us, he will
destroy our enemies, and make all
his red children happy.”
GINEVRA, AND ANTONIO UON
\ DIN EL LI.
Constant Imports, strengthened by a
long lapse ojejune, have put ail end to
the doubts that been enter
tained of me truth of the foliating do
ry. Antonio Rondinelli became ena
moured of Ginevra Regil.Amiori,ami
persevered in his courtship lor four
years, notwithstanding great opposi
tion from her father, who, on no condi
tion would agree to give her to him in
marriage, ller father was pleased to
choose a youth of the family of Ago
lonti, named Francesco, as being, per
haps, some richer than the other, al
though the inclination ol the girl lit
tle concurred in it. W hen the father
of Ginevra hud concluded this alliance
with Francisco Agolanti, who gave her
the ring, the passion ot love increased
in Rondiiiel'i, then, a young man in
the flower of youth, in proportion as
the hope of possessing her failed him,
anl not having been . ble to obtain his
beloved he swore never to marry any
other; and never lost sight ot her at
festivals, churches, and in assemblies.
On the breaking out of the great
mortality in the year 1400, which was
in many cities in Italy, and principal
ly in Florence, Ginevra also tell sick,
and whether it was the plague or some
other disease, hysterical affections as
sailed her to such a degree, that medi
cines having no effect, and the good
care of the physicians, and the assidu
ities employed by her husband and
mother-in-law, being of no avail, she
became entirely devoid of pulse, and
senseless, so $s to be believed by all
the bystanders absolutely dead ; the
disease of hysterics being unknown,
which, in succeeding times occasioned
great mistakes, and among them, oth
er living women to be buried as dead,
who afterwards have been forced by
necessity ?.y dic-fin their graves.
The tears of her husband were great
as well as the sorrow ot those who
knew her, on account of the excellent
disposition she possessed, among her
other endowments. The funeral was
settled for the same day, the law per
haps not there existing, but since es
tablished, that (he dead should he kept
as at present, twenty-four hours above
ground. Antonio Rondinelli heard the
event and grew ill through grief, it not
appearing to him possible that envi
ous deatn should so soon have snatch
ed her from life. At the twenty-se
cond hour she was taken to be buried,
in the tomb of her family, accompa
nied by the priests of the cathedral,
to the church-yard of the same, and it
is certain that this sepulchre is point
ed out even in our day.
“There was great talk through Flor
ence of the death of this young wo
man in the flower of youth, and not
many months married. ‘Alien some
hours of the nigjit had passed, which
was at the time df full moon, Ginevra
revived, or was somewhat relieved
from the trance or lethargy, and hav
ing opened her eyes as awaking from
a deep sleep, and recovering her
strength, came to herself, although
much weakened by the disease and by
hunger. The moon being up, she
knew bv r a fissure near her in the stone
of the sepulchre, that she was in a
burying place, anil bound and shackled
like a corpse, so that with that little
strength which had returned to her,she
tore part of the white vestment she
had on, and taking courage, and re-;
commending herself to God, she raised 1
herself first a little so as to sit, then
crawling and supporting herself, she
ascended from the tomb by the steps
which led to the little stone, and by
trying and trying again, she succeed
ed in overturning part of that from
above which was not built, and then
bv creeping got ouf. The fear of dy
ing in earnest, and her great terror,
joined with a coldness produced by
S the season, and badly clothed, furnish
|rd no better expedient than to take
| that way, which now, from this event,
;is called the way of death ; and she
went in a very languid state, to the
house of her husband, Angolanti,
which stood in the line of the Adimar
ni, now the way of the Cabzajob, but
she went by the back way, and by the
lane which still exists. When she
rapped at the door, her husband, who
stood melancholy at the fire, looked
out and seeing that figure so unex
pected, and hearing her hoarse and
languishing voice, he trembled with
fear, and terrified, made the sign of
the cross, believing it was her spirit,
he drove her away, promising that the
following morning he would have her
assisted with masses and prayers.
Ginevra wept, and lamenting and
sobbing, she eudeavored before she
fainted in the street, to betake herself
to the house of her father, Bernardo
Amieri, who was not at home. Her
mother answered from the window,and
lo the sounds of lamentation, interrup
ted too by reason of the cold, which
seized on her trembling limbs, being
frightened, said nothing else than goia
peace blessed spirit; with the intention
of laying her, Ginevra, still more lan
guid, her voice almost extinguished
and quite weary, not knowing what
else to do, took the road, resting her
self by the way, towards the house ofi
an uncle of her’s near bv ; and this too
was in vain, for she had no other re
ception than a go in peace, and the
Joel shut hastily m ncr la”' 1 -
obliged to stop and lie down upon the
ground, under tbe little terrace oi St.
Bartholomew, thinking that she should
there have to die.
At which time, she bethought herself
of her first lover, to whom she should
have been married, contrasted v ith the
present repulses and abhorrence winch
she so keenly felt; and although itap-
Dcarcd <o her a long w ay to the habita
tion of Rondinelli, yet crawling along
site got to the end of it, and rapped at
thehoujfe of Antonio. Certainly Ron
dinclli was tin* most courageous and
intrepid, at sight of h tho?e whom
slio hid gone to; for, t-kidg her woo
she was that was covered in that v 0 1
he was not terrified in beholding her, j
though breathless, and with a weak,;
low voice; but having recognized her!
by degrees, had her carried quickly in - ;
to the house, and wrapped in warm!
clothes and laid in a bed temperately!
warm. He did not flatter himself, j
however, that she would live, but used;
every means to put off that crisis which)
he saw impending. In this state of,
things, it cannot be known which was |
greater, his joy after having wept her;
as dead, or'his grief to see her expi
ring.—Me sat motionless beside her,
keeping the people ol the house occu
pied in attending her : the warm but,
penetrating temperature of the bed, by
degrees, brought her to herself, so that,
timid and bashful, she was able to re
commend her honor and her future
fame to her former lover, if, indeed,
there was any hope of her surviving.—
She related t3 him, in the best way she
could, and mostly by what had
happened. Meantime, tiie best cor
dials were not wanting, so that she
had to protest, weeping that in the
person of Antonia, were combined
the love, the compassion, the courage,
which on that night, had forsaken her
mother, her husband and her uncle.
As the conversation, hitherto diffi
cult, and in an under voice, became by
degrees somewhat more easy to her,
she begged Antonio, that for every rea
son, he would go and close the tomb:
—and principally, that it might not be
the me ms of making others, less fortu
nate than herself, fall or stumble. Al
ready eggs, drink and nourishing broth,
were prepared for her, and when he
went to the church-yard, he provided
other, though Somewhat late restora
tives. lie made his mother lie down
beside her for that night, and kept a
maid servant to watch and attend
her.
Four days had not passed when she
announced that she was cured. And
as it Oulioved her seriously to think of
tier future state, she at length resolved,
and resolving, determined never to re
turn to her husband ; and if the worst
should happen to become a nun, rather
than cohabit with him, it being of no
use to him to appeal to the tribunals,
for this reason, that it appeared that
death dissolves the band oi matrimony:
and, in fact, who would have ever put
it out of the head of her relations, who
all rejected her, that she had really
died ? And it appeared to herself a
miraculous thing, that she again lived,
in this state of things, her former hus
-1 band Agolanti sold her clothes and or
i naments as no longer useful, all which
Rondinelli bought to reclotlie her with.
M eanwhile having entered into anew
marriage with him, under the hand of
a notary, and her nearest relations,
who were engaged in obtaining masses
to be said for her soul, as it appeared
to them she required, not knowing or
not guessing the least of it, she went
out on Sunday morning together with
her new mother-in-law and a maid ser
vant. Antonio following a distance
behind them and all going to mass, she
was recollected by some persons.—
Siie was also met by her mother,and all
making a circle around her and inter
rogating her, her final answer was, that
she being by the physicians, the eccle
siastics, and by all the bystanders jud
ged dead, and as such placed in the
tomb ; that she had after several hours,
found herself alive, although treated
and abhorred as dead: and that, having
wonderfully made her way to the hou
ses of her husband, her father, her un
cle, she was received by none except
by Antonio, from whom the power of
love took away all fear, and by receiv
ing her, and succouring her with res
toratives, had a great hand in her pres
ent resurrection. And certainly if it
had not been for Antonio, that which
had not really happened on the morn
ing before, must have succeeded in that
woful night, when there was no less
cause of dying than on the former.—
Finally, when she had returned from
church and had dined, she was cited
by the Vicar, by a messenger from the
Bishop’s palace. Francesco was there
present, who could say nothing in con
tradiction of her recital; wherefore in
the presence of her, of Francesco, and
of Rondinelli, the sentence w as not on
ly, that she should remain the wife of
Rondinelli, but that Angolanti should
i also restore to her her portion, which
was done—for so it was that through
the ignorance of hysterical affections,
then existing in the faculties, Ginevra
was beiicVtil real!) dead, and a,
culouslv resuscitated. Emporium.
DISCOVERIES IN AFRICA.
We understand that re<ercflr ;
in Africa, of a very, interesting
nature, are about to be published
by Mr. Waklcch, a German w!
has recently arrived in England
from India having previously tra
velled through Ainca, from Lgy; t
to the Cape of Good Hope. It ap
pears that at the foot of the Moun
•tains of the Moon, he found an i.
scribed pillar, erected by Komar
j consul, about the period of the
reign of Vespasian. He found v.
! level on the top of these mountain
-1 nearly 400 miles broad, on which he
: discovered a temple of the highest
I antiquity and in fine preservation’
i and still used for religious purpo
* ses by the inhabitants. South of the
| level, he passed a decent of 25 day’s
I journey, and, when advanced about
! nine days, he found a skeleton of a
; man with a telescope slung on his
i shoulder, marked with name or.
• Harris: and also a chronometer
made by Marchant. .1 here were
also two other skeletons ; and itwa?
supposed the owners perished fov
want of water. —Out of four Eu
ropean companions who accompa
nied Mr. Waldech, only one of
them survived the hardships of the
journey* Lend. Invest.
“ I can quit u>hen I choose .”
These few words have perhaps
done more mischief in the world
than can be conceived. Youths,
just entering the threshold of life
with the bright anticipations of
their friends, allured by the syren
Pleasure , with the sparkling cup in
her hand, although sensible of the
dark abyss yawning at their feet,
too often stifle the disagreeable
monitions of conscience and friendc,
with this sophistical and false con
solation, u I can quit when I
choose.” Alaa ! link by link, is the
chain forging, which soon is to bind
such unfortunate youths, and bid
defiance to their noblest resolu
tions. Too true was the assertion
of Lord Bacon, that u all the crimes
on the earth do not destroy so
many of the human race, nor alien
ate so much property, as drunk
enness.” It expels reason—drowns
the memory—is the beggar’s com
panion—and the true and only
cause of the vast increase of crime
in the world. There is certainly
no character which appears so des
picable and distrusting as that of a
drunkard ; he displays every little
spot in his soul in its utmost defor
mity. When once the youth be
comes a devotee at the shrine of’
Bacchus, and fond of his libations,
it is time for him to think. Let
him not lull his consience with the
delusive idea of “ quiting when lie
chooses,” but take a noble and firm
stand, from that moment to cease
indulging in his cup, and shun those
cemeteries of morals and reputation
with which our city unhappily
abounds. Drunkenness, that fell,
destroyer of mind and morals, has
elided the exhortation of the preach
er—the pen of the moralist—the
warn of the physician—the plead
ings of wife and children with tears
in their eyes—the rernonstration of
of the parent —and the yawning of
the grave —but all will not do. It
has reached an awful, and alarming
height—it daily increases. It is
known to require an extraordinary
and noble firmness of heart to resist
its blandishment and allurements.
Is it then the temptation you are
so easily to withstand, and the habit
you are to “quit when you choose:’”
Ah ! no—my dear young friends
hearken to mv advice; when the
seductive goblet is offered to your
lips, think not you will once more
sip the liquid cup, because you “ can
quit it when you choose,” but con
sider that that cup may probably
be the one that will establish that
habit with you, which you will
never be able thereafter, to conquer,
and dash the proffered cup with in
dignation to die ground.
During the recent electioneering
contest m Massachusetts, Dr. Eustia
was represented to be a moderate Cal
vinist, which probably had the effect
of securing him some votes among
persons of that religious persuasion.
Mi. Otis, (his opponent,) meeting him
one morning on the Mall, after th
usual friendly salutation inquired —
“ Pray Doctor, how long have you
bet*!) a moderate calvinist The Go
vernor elect replied—“ I cannot say
that I am yet entirely satisfied upon
all tho Jive points, but on the important
subject of election, l have r:o long*',
any doubts.’’