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|Xh following cit'usiun 01 our native |>oet,
Pim rival, ha* received tli<- approbation <>|
both American and Forcii'ii Critics. —'Ae
trust il will, without our nicoinium, recom
mend itself to every one who may give it a
perusal. 1
CONSUMPTION.
There is a sw'eetness in woman decay,
When the light of beauty is fading away,
IV lien the bright enchantment of youth is gone,
And the tint that glow ‘d, and the eye that
And Hal ted around its glance of power, [shone
And the lip that vied with (lie sweetest flower,
That ever in I’m turn's garden blew,
Or ever was steep’d in lmgrant dew,
When all, that was bright and fair, is fled.
But the loveliness lingering round the dead.
0! t here is a sweetness in beauty's close,
Like tlie perfume scenting the withered rose ;
Fora nameless charm around her plays,
And her eyes are kindled with hallow’d rays,
Ami a veil of spotless purity
II is mantled her cheek with its heavenly dye,
Like n cloud v hereon the queen of night
11 as pour'd her softest tint of light ;
And there is a blending of white and blue,
W here the purple blood is melting through
The snow of her pale and tender cheek ;
And there are tones, that sweetly speak
Os a spirit, who longs for a purer day,
And is ready to wing her flight away.
In the flush of youth and the spring of feeling,
When life, like a sunny stream, is stealing
ll silent steps through a flowery path,
Arid nil the endearments, that pleasure hath,
Are poured from her full, o erflow ing horn,
When the rose of enjoyment conceals no thorn,
In her lightness of heart, to the cheery song
The maiden may trip in tin* dance along,
And think of the passing moment, that lies,
Like a fairy dream, in her dazzled eyes,
And yield to the present, that charms around
With all that is lovely in sight and sound,
Where a thousand pleasing phantoms flit,
With the voice of mirth, and the hurst of wit,
And the music that steals to the bosom’s core,
And the heart in its fulness flowing o'er
V\ :th a few big drops, that are soon repress'd,
For short is the stay of grief in her breast:
In this enliven’d and gladsome hour
The spirit may hum with a brighter pow'r ;
But dearer the calm and quiet day,
When the heaven-sick sou! is stealing away.
And w hen her sun is low declining,
And life w r ears out with no repining,
And the whisper, that tells of early death,
Is soft as tiie w est wind's balmy breath,
When it comes at the hour of still repose,
To sleep in the breast of the wooing rose ;
And (lie lip that swell'd with a living glow,
Is pale us a curl of new-fallen snow ;
And her cheek, like the Parian stone, is fair,
But the hectic spot that flushes there ;
When the tide of life from its secret dwelling,
In a sudden gusli is deeply swelling,
And giving a tinge to her icy lips
Juke the crimson rose’s brightest tips,
As richly red and as transient too,
As the clouds in autumn's sky of blue,
That seem like a host of glory met, *
To honor the sun at his golden set .
O ! then, w hen the spirit is taking wing,
How loudly her thoughts to her dear one cling,
A-~ i! she would blend her soul with his
In a deep and long imprinted kiss ;
So, fondly the panting camel flies.
Where the glassy vapour cheats his eves,
And the dove from the falcon seeks her nest,
And the infant shrinks to its mother’s breast.
And though her dying voice be unite,
Or faint as the tones of an unstrung lute,
And though the glow from her cheek he fled,
And her pale lips cold as the marble dead,
ller eye still beams unwonted fires
VA ith a woman’s love and a saint’s desires,
And her last fond, lingering look is giv’n
To the love she leaves, and then to heu\ ’n,
As it she would bear that love away
To a purer world and a brighter day.
[The following traditionary account,
given by an Indian Chief, of a dread
ful massacre which happened many
centuries ago, w as communicated to
a gentleman of Niagara county, N.
Y.und by him to a friend in Prince
ton Now-Jersey, by whom it has
been made public. If any credit
may be attached to it, we think it
must go far towards accountingfoi
the various fortifications and re
mains of a civilized population
which are scattered over our coun
try. We should at once, from the
circumstances, pronounce the stoi v
probable, as it must have been owing
to some such calamity as the one
mentioned that a powerful civilized
people could become extinct. The
only doubt that can be attached to
it is, that our natives have many
traditions handed down among
them, of great antiquity, but to fre
quent inquiries respecting mounds,
fortifications, lie. they have invari
ably proiessed an entire ignorance
ol the date ot their origin, or by
whom they were erected. From the
probability ot the circumstances,
now e\ei, wc think that some credit
is to be given to the account.]
I am sometimes disposed to cre
dit a tradition given me bv an old
Indian chief of the Tonne wanta
tribe, in answer to my inquiries.
He affirmed that about twelve thou
sand moons before the white peo
ple came hither to rob them of their
lands, a large number of families
c riming off the great waters, asked
the privilege of remaining a short
time. Their request being gener
ously granted, they landed, and re
mained until the wilde*rness was
covered with their offspring. The
news ot the surprising increase ot
these visitors, spread sorrow and
consternation around them. The
carts of the neighbouring tribes
nclted like wax, and distant war
riors quaked with fear. A council
of war was assembled. The chief
I rst in command from every tribe,
commencing at the shores of the
Atlantick, and extending to the
ends of the earth, was summoned
to appear at this mighty council. —
This council, assembled for a com
bination awful beyond description,
overspread many miles of territory, j
The same barbarous desires glow!
in every bosom. All are unanim- j
ous in the dreadful resolution, to;
sweep this detested race from the j
fact of nature. After etching up
on their rods of time, the proposed j
number of moons, which were to
pass before they were to rc-assem
ble they depart to enkindle the same ;
hellish flame in their respective,
tribes, and to prepare to execute j
their dreadful resolution. While’
this tremendous storm is gather--
ing, the heavens are clothed with
smoke, and the omens seem topre-I
diet the speedy dissolution of na
ture. At the time appointed, an
innumerable host of blood-thirsty
warriors pour fourth like legions of
fiends, from the abodes of darkness,
eager to satiate their thirst with
human blood. And when the cur
tains of night had covered the world
and the defenceless victims of their 1
rage were slumbering in their
dwellings, the awful scenes of des
olation commenced, which no lan-;
guage can express, no imagination
conceive. The silence of midnight
is broken by the yells of the exult- 1
ing savage, mingling with the j
skrieks of bleeding victims, and the
wilderness is illuminated by the
blaze of their dwellings. Opening
the streams of life, their weapons
are bathed in the crimson current,
and the valleys below are deluged ■
with blood pouring down the moun
tains. Blazing with a fury which J
no reason could pacify, no entrea
ties assuage, they pursue the ob
jects of their malice, ravaging ev
ery house,and assaulting every for
tification. The remnant of this de
voted people, who for a long time
had bravely defended themselves
in their fortified stations, were at
length compelled to abandon them
and retreat to the Muskingum, lea
ving their country behind, reeking
with blood and smoking in ruins.—
A large fortification is here erected
and mighty preparations made to
resist the power of these enemies.
But at length being diminished by
a grievous famine and disease, thev
fell a prey’ to the merciless Indians.
Thus, after a war continuing thirty
six moons, unparallelled for its
barbarity, not one man, one woman,
nor one child survived. But being
driven into their fortification,which
was immediately fired, they perish
ed together in one general confla
gration. It is a fact, that a forti
fication more than two miles in
length has been discovered on the
western branch of the Muskingum,
jin the state of Ohio, about ninety
•miles from Marietta, the wall of
I which is not less than twenty feet
high.
[Christian Secretary.
THE WRY MOUTH.
Renard, a physician of Paris, pi
qued himself on his extraordinary
sharp-sightedness. One day on
calling to visit a patient, he found
an old abbe placing a sober game
at piquet with him. “What aie
you doing here, monsieur l’Abl e?”
exclaimed Renard: “go home and
get bled immediately. You have
not a moment to lose.”
T he abbe was so terrified by this
address, that he was unable to stir:
he was, therefore, conveyed home
and put to bed. Renard followed
him, and directed that he should be
bled three or four times ; he then
prescribed an emetic,and every time
lie called, he found the abbe worse
and worse.
On the third day, the patient’s
brother was summoned from the
country. He hurried to town, and
was informed that his brother was
dying. Renard was in his cham
ber when he entered. “ Eor God's
sake,” said he, what is the matter
with my brother?” “He has had
a violent attack of apoplexy, with
out being aware of it,” replied Re
nard. “ Fortunately I met with
him at a patient’s where I called,
and discovered it by his mouth,
which was drawn awry.” “ Good
heavens!” rejoined the brother of
the supposed dying abbe, “my
brother has had a wry mouth these
sixty j ears,” “ Why was I not told
so before !” exclaimed Renard,
“ it would have saved me mutly
trouble and him much unnecessa
ry expense. ’Tis no fault of
mine.”
ORIGIN OF THE GAME Os CHESS.
Depping says, that the Arabian
historians declare the inventor of
this celebrated and admired game,
to have been a Brahmin by the
! name of Nassir. This person, liv
j ing under the reign of a tyrannical
i piince, who, regardless of the pros
perity or happiness of his people,
! reduced them to the greatest wret-
I chedness, was deeply moved with
regret at the miseries of his coun
trymen ; and being unable to gain
admittance into the kings presence,
’ invented the game of chess, as an
; allegorical method of showing his
sovereign how much his own wel
j fare depends on the prosperity and
affections of his subjects. Hear
■ ing of tne game, the prince sent
fur the inventor to teach it to him,
- which he did ; at the same time in
geniously introducing so many for
cible and excellent applications to
the science of government, that the
king, struck with conviction of the
truth of his remarks and illustra
tions, acknowledged his errors,
and changed his tyrannical form
of government for one founded up
on the principles of justice and hu
manity, which rendered his king
dom prosperous and happy’, and
j gained him the love of his people.
Trom India the game spread rap
idly’ into Arabia, and thence into
1 Spain, and, by means of tlie cru*
! sadts, soon found its way into eve
ry kingdom in Europe.
/, itch ‘field Eagle.
Want of a latch. — Being in the
country, I had an example of one!
ot those small losses which a fam
ily is exposed to through negli
gence. hrom the want of a latc’n
et ot small value, the wicket of a
barn yard, looking to the fields it as
olten left open ; eveiy one who
went, threw the door too ; but hav
ing no means to fasten it, it remain
ed flapping; the poultry escaped
and were lost. One dav a fine pig
got out, anu ran into the woods.—
Immediately all the world is after
it; the gardner got sight of him
first, and jumped over a ditch to
stop him, he sprained his ancle,
and was confined a lortnight to the
house. Ihe cook on her return,
found all the linen she had left to
dry by the fire burned ; and the
dairy maid having run off before
she had tied up the cows, one ot
them broke the leg of a colt in the
stable, lhe gardner’s lost time
was worth twenty crowns, valuing
his pain at nothing; the linen burn
ed, and the colt spoiled were worth
as much more. Here is a loss of
forty crowns, and as much pain,
tr nible and vexation, and inconve
nience, for the want of a latch,
which w ould cost not three pence’
and this loss through careless neg
lect, falls on a family little able to
support it.
A young lady of beauty and fash
ion, tripping gaily into a library in
the city, said to a y oung man behind
the counter, “ Sir, I want some ex
cellent and interesting new novel
—F a y, have you “ Man as he
1S “No, madam,” replied the
other, with a halt checked smile,
“ but l have “ V\ oraan as she should
be .”
A silly fop in company with a
young lady, and wanting his ser
vant, cried, * where is mv block
head ?” “ upon your shoulders,” re
plied the lady.
On Doctor Johnson’s return from
a town in Scotland, a lady at whose
house he stopt. had got ready what
is in England called a hotch-pot,
tor dinner. Alter the doctor had
tasted it, she took an opportunity
of asking him if it was good r—
“ er y good for lings,” replied die
doctor. “ Then pray,” replied the
ladv, “ let me help you to a little
more.”
Cnc Minutes advice to Young Tradesmen.
W hatever your trade may be,
never be ashamed of it, or above
it.
Do not disdain to keep company
with people of your own class ; but
rather court their acquaintance ; the
conversation of men of trade brings
trade ; men first talk together, then
deal together.
Never trade beyond vour stock,
or give or take too large credit.—
Better slip a bargain now and then,
than buy a greater quantity of
goods than you can pay for.
Profusion in expencts, 1h ing like
your neighbours, and mimick
ing the manners ot high life, are
paths which lead directly to bank
ruptcy.
Beware of engaging to be securi
ty for any sum which you cannot
pay without injuring youi seii, busi
ness or credit.
In general avoid partnerships ; at
all times avoid them if you are not
perfectly acquainted with the tem
per, disposition and character of
your partner.
If you discover that your part
ner is a schemer or gambler in the
funds, lottery or otherwise, dissolve
partnership directly.
Fiom a collection of German Popular Stories.
HANS IN LUCK.
Hans had served his master seven
years, and at last said to him, — Mas
ter, my time is up, 1 should like to go
home and see my mother: so give me
my wages. And the master >aid, \ou
have been a faithful and good servant,
so your pay shall be handsome. Then
he gave him a piece of silver as large
as his head.
Bans took out his pocket handker
chief, put the piece of silver into it, |
threw it over his shoulder, and jogged j
off homewards. As he went lazily on,;
dtagging one foot after the other, a
man came in sight, trotting along gai
ly’on a capital horse. Ah, said llans
aloud, w hat a fine thing it is to ride j
tin horseback ! There he sits as if lie ■
were at home in his arm chair: lie!
trips against no stories, spares his 1
--hues, and yet he gets on he hardly j
knows how. The man heard this and i
said, well Hans, why do you go on
foot then ? Ah, said Hans, I have this
load, to carry—to be sure it is silver,
but it is so heavy that l can’t hold up
my head, and it hurts my shoulder
sadly’. What do you say to a change
said the horseman, 1 will give vou the
_ O i/
horse ami you shall give me the silver.
\\ ith all my heart, said Hans, but 1 j
toil you one thing ; you’ll have a wea
ry task to tlrag it along. The horse
man got off, took the silver, helped
Hans up, gave the bridle into his
hand, ai>u said, When you want to go
very fast, smack your lips loud and
cry ‘ Jip.’
llans was delighted as he sat on the
horse and rode merrily on. After a
time he thought lie should like to go a
little faster, so he smacked his lips and
cried ‘Jip. ; Away went the horse at
full gallop, and before lie thought w hat
lie was about, he was thrown off ami
lay in a ditch by the road side, and
his horse would have run off if a shep
herd who was coming by driving a
con had not stopped it. Hans soon
came to himself and gets upon his legs
again. lie was sadly vexed, and said
to the shepherd, “ I his riding is no
joke when a man gets upon a beast
like this, that stumbles and flings him
off as if lie would break bis neck.—
How ever, 1 am off now , once for all ;
I like your cow a great deal better;
for one can walk along at one’s leis
ure behind her, and have milk, butter
and cheese every day into the bargain.
What would 1 give to have such a
cow: ‘ W ell,’ said the shepherd, * if
you are so fond of her, 1 will change
my cow for your horse.’— ‘ Done,’ said
Hans merrily. ‘I lie shepherd jump
ed upon the horse, and away lie rode,
Hans drove off his cow quietly, and
thought his bargain a very iucky one.
‘ If l have only a piece of bread, and
l certainly shall be able to get that, I
can, whenever I like eat my butter
i and cheese with it; and when lam
j thirsty l can miik iny r cow and drink
the milk; what can 1 wish for nioic ?’
| When lie came to an inn he, halted,
; ate up all his bread, and gave way his
i lust penny for a glass of beer ; then lie
- drove his cow towards his mother’s
| village, and the heat grew greater as
| noon came on, till at last he found
himself in a wide heath, that would
take hiui more than an hour to cross,
and lie began to be hot and parched
; shat his tongue clave to the roof ol his
, mouth. ‘1 can find a cure for this,’
; thought he : ‘ now I will milk my cow
and quench my thirstso he tied her
Ito the stiiin.i> of a tree, and held his
, leathern cap to milk into, but not a
I drop was to be had.
W bile he was trying luck and man
aging the mailer very clumsily, the
uneasy beast gave hiui a kick on the
head that knocked him down, and
there he lay ;i long while senseless.—
Luckily a butcher soon came by, with
a pig in a wlieeluarrow : \\ hat is the
matter with you ? said the butcher, as
he helped him up. Hans told him
what had happened, and the butcher
gave, him a flask, saytng, There, drink
and refresh yourself; your coyv will
give you no milk ; she is an old beast
and good for nothing but the slaugh
ter house. Alas, alas, said Hans,who
would have thought it.? If I kill her
what will she be good for? 1 hate cow
bccl, it is net tender enumrh IW ihp.’
ff it “ere a pig now, one t iw|,j i H
something with it; it WMfi,! at ‘ D
ra'o make sausages. \\ ~||( „•, . H
butcher, to please you. Hi diuiiX Z I
trivr vou the pig for the cow if. W I
reward you tor your kindness . ■
Hans, as he ga\e the butcher thee I
and took the pig oil* the ■
and drove it off, holding np v I
string that was tied to iN leg. B
So, on be jogged, ami all now seen, I
cd to go right with him ; he met win’ I
some misfortunes, to be sum. p,,.,’ I
was now well repaid for ail. >r ifl
next person lie met was a count’ B
man carrying a fine white goose on* I
der his arm. ‘Fhe t eunfryman stun I
pod to ask wliat’s o'clock ; and Ha-s I
told all his luck, and how he had mad, I
so many good bargains. The conn. I
tryman said lie was going to take tha I
goose to a christening ; feci said |,l I
how heavy it is, and vet it is On!v ei-dit 1
weeks old. Whoever roasts and I
it may cut plenty of tat oil it, it \ th I
lived so well. \ ou’re i ight, said Haiis I
as he weighed it in liis band : hut my I
pig is no trifle. Meantime the con;:. I
tryman began to look grave and sim,! I
his head. Hark ye, said he, my goo,; i
friend, your pig may get you into a I
scrape in the village 1 have just come I
from ; the sqaire has had a pig stolid
out of his stye. 1 was drcadfu'Jv
afraid when l saw you, that you ‘ ,
got the squire’.-, pig ; it will be o h ;
job if they catch you ; the least . I
will do will be to throw you into h?
horse pond.
Pi or Hans was sadly liighfcned
good man, said lie, pray get me out of
this scrape ; you know the country
bettei than l, take my pig ami giva
me the gm.se. 1 ought to have some
! tiling into the bargain, said the coub
i tryman ; however, l will not be hard
i with you ns you are in trouble. Then
jhe took tiie string in bis hand, and
I drove oft’ the pig by a side path, while
Hans went the wav homewards free
from care. After all, thought he, i
have the best of the bargain ; first,
there vdll be a capital roast ; then
the fat will find me in goose-grease for
six months ; and then the-e are all
the beautiful white feathers; I will
put them into my pillow, and then I
am sure I shall sleep soundly without
rocking. Ilow happy my inothern.ii
be.
As he came to the last village, h
saw a scissors grinder, with iiis wheel
w orking away and singing—
O'er the hill and o'er the dale so happy f roam,
Work light and live well, all the world is in;’
Hho so blithe, so merry as I ? [home,
llans stood looking for a while,and
at last said, You must he well off mai
ler grinder, you seem to be so happy
at vour work. Yes, said the other,
mine is a golden trade : a good grind
er never puts his hand into his pocket
without finding money in it; but where
did you get that beautiful goose? I
did not buy it, but changed a pig for
it. And where did you get the pig?
1 gave a cow for it. And the cow?
I gave a horse for it. And the horse?
I gave a piece of silver as big as no
head for it. And the silver rOh 1 1
worked for that seven long years.—
you have thriven well in the world hi
therto, said the grinder ; now it you
could find money in your pocke":
whenever you put your hand into it
your fortune must be made. Very
true; but how is that to be managed ■’
You must turn grinder like me, said
the other; you only want a grindstone,
the rest will come of itself. Here is
one that is a little the worse for wear,
1 wont ask more than the value ui
goose for it ; will you buy ? How can
you ask such a question ? replied
Huns ; 1 should be the happiest man
in the world if 1 could have money
whenever 1 put my hand into my pock
et ; what could 1 want more ? There s
the goose.’ Now. said the grinder, as
he gave him a common rough stone
that lay by bis side, this is a most ca
pital stone ; do but manage it clcvcrle
and you can make old nail cut with it
Mans took the stone, and went oft
with a light heart, his eyes sparkled
for joy, and he said to himself, I i u '-
have been born in a lucky hour; c ve *
ry thing that 1 want, or wish for,coins*
to me of itself.
Meantime he began to be tired, for
lie had been travelling ever since day*
break ; he was hungry too, for he hm*
given away his last penny in his joy a
getting the cow. At last he could g”
no further, and the stone alone tired
him terribly ; be dragged himsclt t| (
the side of a pond, that he might drink
some water, and rest awhile; so hr
laid the stone carefully by his side < lh
tiio bank, but as he stooped down j”
drink, lie forgot it, he pushed it a bod
and down it went plump into the por. y
For a while he watched it sinking 1,1
the deep clear water, then sprang U P
for joy, and again fell upon his knee .
and thanked heaven with tears in he
eves, for its kindness in taking **' va ?
his only plague —the ugly heavy stone.
How happy am 1 ! cried lie, no mm
tul was ever so lucky as 1 am! I hen
up he got with a light and merry hen* >
and walked oil free from all his t* -011
Lie till he reached his mutlm: ~ kc’ 1 ’