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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 ’