ynoitt ,'r_m:_ nosron irANxnE. inner IS LIFE :2 SAY, what is Life -3 it is a dream, ‘ Which fliefsfiat morning-’s early glow-'3 ’Tis like the ‘rapid mottntaln-stream; \Vhich seeks the silent vale below. T is like that lonely, lovely llower,* ‘Which-'ust e-xpands‘ and fades away—‘- ’Tis liket e early summer shower, Exhal’d from every glittering sprays "l‘is “ erroris unavailing sleep,”-— A vision, transient as the hue Of that bright bow, whose brilllant_swcep Gilds the fair arch of heavenly blue. Then, Man, frail creature of a day, - VVhy to perform t-hy dut y loath 1’ ‘Why waste the precious hour away ?—"- _ Rouse from thy dream of mentalcsloth 1 The night shall come-’—that night of gloom Shall wrap thee in its clarksome ‘shroud 1-'4 But there’s a LIGHT shall pierce the tomb, And scatter every sombre cloud. It is THE nav which’be'a_ms on high, To guide us through the last dread strife— It shows the portals of the sky—— It is th’ ETERNAL LIGHT or LIFE ! . F1.o‘iu.uv. *7‘/ze nig/it-bloonzing Ceres. Miscellany. I FROM THE VILLAGE itncoitn. THE SPECULATOR.s ' The, Three Visits. "l"‘”*‘*"-‘I’-"-"9"-‘l-i His forehead was high-'--his eye bright, but rather sprightly than piercing ; when silent there was much dignity in his looks for one so young, but when he spoke a charming‘ smile played about his mouth, and his accents were ve- ry engaging ; of the middle height and well pro- portions-tl, his figure was manly, but when he ad- vocated the cause of virtue, or spoke of the wrongs of the oppressor, his form seemed to rise into a majestic height, and his eye to irradiate liv- ing beams. _ _ On my first vlsithe had cornpletctl his 24th year ; and in that very week he led to the altar a maiden altogether worthy of him. , The girls all said that he was the handsomest of the two, con- gratulated Mary with much seeming pleasure on her marriage ; but it was plain that most of them envied her the happiness. Though bountiful to the poor, and free to o- blige, hi's fortune was above all fear of want ; and his profession (for besides being an accomplisliecl scholar he had perfected ‘himself in the science of medicine) was a sure resource against embar- rassment. _ _ Henry, in truth had the good wishes of every hotly. The snalty vipers of envy toiled them- selves in silence, and I left Oatland with the im- pression that Henry Fairfax and Mary Plum- wortli were the happiest couple that ever were married. , It was just ten years from the wedding, when business and pleasure led me again to Oatland.-=- I had heard little of Fairfax for some years, but I I did not doubt but that I should find him, main- taining the station which was promised by his dearning, virtues and talents. It was evening when I arrived. The bar room of the tavern was full, and among the most noisy I beheld a short, fat, jolly-looking,‘ red-nosed man, very lo- quacious, sometimes witty, often lOOllSl‘l and quite inebriated. It was sometime, and with difficulty, that in this being I could make out the form and features of the once noble Fairfax. After some time, recognizing me, he apologized for the sit- uation I found him in ; said he had been taking a social glasstoo much with a friend, and soon withdrew. The next day his wife and children passed to church. 'i‘_he‘lovely features of the mother were clouded with woe ; 1183!‘!-Sick at 3 beloved husband’s treachery to himself, now ranging on the verge of cruelty and Crime» lflllle abandonment of her and her little ones, the rose had faded on her cheek, and her eye beams--not thc smile of happiness and pleasure, but the por-_ tentuous ray of approaching dissolution. , The last time of my being at Oatland was in the fall of 1817. Eight years had only interve- ned, since my previous visit. The. tale is now short and my reader I‘dare say anticipates the re- sult. He sees Mary no more, but reads the epi- taph on her grave-stone.’ ‘He beholds their eld- est daughtenilovely in ruins, unprotected by a father I a prey to a villain. Henry himself a nauseous -hulk of apimated pestilence. For once reader you are mistaken. True the height was easy of descent and difficult to regain ;.but a determined resolution of a strong mind, aided by a firm reliance on heaven». ma)’ 3CC°_ml’ll5h purposes which to the weak are impossible.-— Let the train of thoughtless folly go, P6l‘.l$h and be forgotten. Let the intelligent, the wise, the sound of mind and strong of purposes W110 133V}? for amoment aberratedfrom the path of recti- tude, learn lromliarry Fairfax, the road to safe- ty, to usefulness, to honor. 1 ., I "In a lucid interval Henry took a resolution, not ‘made with an oath, rashly, publicly: 0Sle"t"“1°“5‘ ly ; but with his own heart FIRMLY, and resolv- ed to drink no more. He avoided the temptation -.--devoted himself to -business‘—-‘sought ‘in the happiness of his wife, the education of his chil- dren, and his books, for that happiness Wlllfillgllfi had been long vainlypursumg in the frenzied cup of inebriation. His health became restored- The rose resumed its blush on the check of l_Vla- ;-,y.._|,i5 sons and his tlaughters are rising into life" with high promise around _h".n’ ’:"d h_‘s friends enjoying the pleasure of sceingthe smoke brightening into flame,’ seem to lovehim as one arisen from the'dead- ~ -1-— Some persons who have great 8513355 left themgbreakfast in plenty, dine in poverty, and sup in infamy. ’ __ From the Analedtic Magazine. , Young women of fortune, who are above the necessity of labouring, are, for the most part, bgought up among us in America, with-an utter ignorance and disregard to everyhspeciesc of do- mestic usefulness and economy. They flare a- way, and sport the summer of life, which lasts while the labour of the parent can administer to their extravagance_: and when he dies, becomes dependants on some brother, or married sister, for the rest of their lives; or in failure of that, retire to board in some cheap country village, become exceedingly pious,’,and wi-thall a little scandalous—-and take huff at all mankind. There are but few youngumen in our country that can afford to support an extravagant wife, who does not bring the means of supplying her own ficti- tious wants, and this is the reason why there are such swarms of our blooming damsels withering in the streets of our cities, and such an alarming crop of old maids by brcvet, who are preparing themselves for-"what is to come, by studying the balance of comfort, and deriving consolation from the single blessédncss of good Mrs. Charleton, and little Miss Amy Finch. As staunch friends to the gen_tle sex, we would advise them forth- with to begin the study and the practice ofawell regulated econorny—-to think sometimes of sav- ing as well as spending-and, above all, to dress according to their means antl situation. ,They will attract the regard of prudent and reflecting young men, who seek the choicest gem of life in a gentle, modest, economical wife--they will bring and receive blessings in that state, to which reason and nature have assigned the performance of woman’s beauties,‘ and the enjoyment of her happiness—the country will be enriched by new citizens, educated by such mothers—and the dan- dies and corset trammellcd beaux may exhibit I their thin waists, and thick legs, at tea parties in vain. --CO&—- FROM THE nosros GAZETTE.‘ ‘HE CASUAL REMARKER. 'W'hoever considers society as it exists in this country, will observe the effect of government on the minds and habits of the people. The consti- tutions of the States, declaring ‘all men equal in their rights, opentlie avenues of office and dis- tinction to everyycitizen; and opulence, oftcii ac- quired by men once poor and obscure, places its possessor in the first circles of fashionable life. The result accordingly is, that the general prog- ress of families is upwards ; the fathers educate their children for stations and professions above their own. The chimney-swee.per’s son be- comes a brick-layer, and builds the chimnies his father sweeps ; the cohler’s offspring not unfr-.-.- qucntly undertakes the affairs of state. Some inconvenience arises from this ambition ; there is too much pushing upward ; the learned pro- fessions become crouded; there are more mer- chants than capital, more gentlemen than arti- sans, more officers than soldiers or seamen, more pretensions than merit. Look into the families of any dozenaged mechanics you may happen to know; you will see more than one of their chil- dren spoil’d perhaps irretrievably ruined, by this‘ ‘anlbition of advancement to genteel lifc. - -Tlrc-so high minded sons disdain the vulgar but honest employment of their fathers, their unfashiona- ble dress, plain food and homely manners; they aspire to be gentlemen and to more respectable modes, of getting and enjoying a living; they make the experiment ; from want of skill, ofin- dtistry, economy, or of capital, they do not suc- ceed ; and now from pride, indolent habits or ig- norance, they cannot resort to meaner employ- ments; they become incapable of supporting themselves, and hang like dead weights upon their friends. Sometimes a whole family has been reduced to want, by the attempt to uphold the pretensions of these would-be-gentlemen.-.. But it is not my desire to check the order of hon-V orable distinction, or the efforts which industry, ‘ enterprize or merit‘ make, to attain the honours of life, or acquire the enjoyments and independ- ence of wealth; my endeavour is to persuade those young men, (and there are too many of them among us) who have made the attempt and failed, and now are wandering, extravagant idlers, dressed in costly apparel, thronging fashionable places, wasters of time and money not their own, and continually intruders "where they are not wanted, to consider the despicable figure they make, the sufferings ofthcir family for their sake, the folly of their conduct, inevitably» leading to disgrace and misery and their dishonorable de- pendence on poor parents or credulous trades- men. Would they in an hour of cool reflection justly appreciate the rank they holdin the pub- lic estimation, shame would drive them to some useful employment. They would no longer be seen in the haunts of.,loungers, annoying Ladies; their names would no longer be written in the “ liallcndei‘ of Debtors;” their awakened con- science would goad them to some honest and profitable labour. VVe should no more see law- yers without clients, merchants without goods, ollicers without commands, physicians without employment, or literati without knowledge. An unsuccessful lawyer might make a useful mer-‘t chant, notary or sheriff; a broken merchant might become an able broker, master of a ship,- or a skilful supercargo ; indeed if people were willing to lower their minds to their circumstan- ces, honorable employ ment of a profitable nature might be found in our happy country for every one. None need be idle ; in the last resort, cur new lands may employ our surplus population fottrcentyuries to come. Let then our would-be- gentlemen give up pretensions they cannot main- tain ;.let a,mbition* after her repulse, submit to fate, and be content to labor in that sphere ofclife which fortune prescribed. If bad calculatiops have been made, if-a_/Zzux-jlas has._been commit- ted, indolence, extravagance, ingratitude, false shame or despair, will not avert the baleful con-- sequences ; vigorous efforts, enterprize, change of means or professions, prudencemay be suc- cessful. If in the first path of life you pursued, you cannot obtain honor or'in‘tlependence, quit it ; try another, not so elevated, or more promising. I .the heat of the daymay have dissolved. ‘Waste not your tirnein stre'et=loung"ing‘; mod- erate your expences; reflect-—'that only things‘ of use are naturally’ honorable—-that no one was born to do nothcing-"-that industry usually carries its own reward; and slothfulness its own -.sting—- that a man in debt has no right toa shilling that comes into his possession:-—and that impoverish- ing parents and friends, and defraudingvtailors and work people, are yet ‘contemptihle vices in the world’s estimation. ' I shall conclude with remarking, that too much credit is given in this country ; it is too easy to get into debt," and that it would be better both for Debtors and Creditors if it were otherwise. Be studious, and you will be learned. Be in- dustrious and frugal,vand you will be rich. Be sober and temperate, and you will be healthy. Be virtuous, and you will be happy. Half the_mi'series of the human mind might be extinguished, would man alleviate the calam- ities which the whole human race‘ are heirs to, by mutual offices of compassion and benevolence. Such offices, in many cases, however, can consist of nothing more than kind looks and soothing expressions of sympathy, which are like balm of Gilead to a wounded spirit : they cost the giv- er nothing, although they are often more.pre_- cious than pearls of great price to the receiver. He who is dignified without ostentation, and modest without embarrassment; concilliating without crouching, and easy without familiarity, is flying to respect and honour upon the wings of an Eagle.- He who-indulges his fancy in groundless vis- ions, will,in time, make a hopeful liar. Sir Thomas Mare.-—-The celebarted Sir Thom- as More was sent ambassador-to the emperor, by king Henry VIII. The morning he was to have his audience, knowing the-power of wine, he or- dered his servant ttflgive hima good large glass of sack ; and having drank that, called for anoth- er ; the servant with olficious ignorance, would have dissuaded him from it, but in vain ; the am- bassador demanded ‘a third, which he likewise drank olf:_ins_is‘tingon a fourth, he was over,-‘ perstiaded by 5' his servant to let it alone---so he went to his audience; but when he returnedhome he called his man, and threatened him with his cane ! “ You rogue !” said he, “ what mischief you have done me-: I spoke to the emperor on the inspiration of those three glasses I drank; he told me I was lit to govern three parts of the world. Now, you dog I if I had drank the fourth glass, I should have been fit to govern all the world 1” —--at-.-3';-db-"-'- Stra7zg'e induufmcnt to commz‘t.mur(Ier.-—About threc.o’clock on Tuesday afternoon, a respecta- ble looking man, about 45 years of age went in- to the shop of James Ripley, residing in Portland roa-d and waited until he found the barber alone 5 he took his handkerchief from his neck, opened his shirt collar, and sat down on the chair as if to be shaved. VVhilst the barber stood over him with his razor in hishand read}: to begin the op- eration,'the stranger interrupted him, and pull- ing out a handful of bank-notes, he thus address- ed the barber :—‘ See these notes, there is as much here as will make you comfortable for life ; to me they. are useless ; you have a family to provide for, I have no person living to look to, or that cares for me : do not be alarmed at what I am going to propose to you, you run no danger, and will have nothing to account for; I am wea- ry of life and do not wish to commit suicide, and if my body be buried in the cross road I do not care ; take your razor, be not afraid, and whilst I am reading the paper cut my throat ; do not start ; give the alarm and say I did it; here, first go and conceal these notes, do not tremble, be reso- lute; to save you from blame go gefme a sheet of paper, pen and ink, as if I wanted to write a letter, and I will write on it, that I came into your shop with the determined purpose of cutting my own throat, this will be found in my pocket, and consequently clear you.’ The poor barber was panic struck, and could not speak, he ran out to call a constable, and give the alarm ; in the mean time his strange visitor departed, and he has not since been heard of.-—Lomlon /za/zer, Jug. 22. Moralist. Extract from the Rev. B. ,ALLISON’S Serinons. There is an ‘ even-tide,’ in the day, an hour when the sun retires, and the shadows fall, and when nature assumes the appearance of sober- ness and silence. It is an hour from which every where the thoughtless fly, as coupled only, in their imagination, with images of gloom : It is the hour, on the other hand, which, in every age, the wise have loved,as bringing with it sentiments and affections more valuable than all the splen- dors of the day. Its first impression is to still all the turbulence of thought or of passion, which the day may have brought forth. We follow with our eye the de- scending sun ; we listen to the decaying sounds of labor and of toil—and, when all the fields are suent around us, we feel a kindred stillness to breathe upon our souls, and to calm them from the agitations of society. From this first impres- sion, there is a second, which naturally follows it ; In the day we are liying with men-—in the 6 ,,,,m.tide’ we begin to live with nature ; We.see the world withdrawn from us—-the shades of night darken over the habitations of men, and ‘V3 feel ourselves alone. It is an hour, fitted, as it would seem, by Him who made us,to still, but with gen- tle hand, the throb of every unruly passion, and the ardour of every impure desire ; and while it veils for a time the world that misleads us, to awa- ken in ourhearts those legitimate affections which There is yet a farther scene it presents to us-—while the world withdraws from us, and while the shades of the evening darken upon our dwellings, the splendors of the firrnament come forward to our view. In the moments when earth is overshad- ._lu§E': I’ 1 " I . owed, heaven opensto our eyes the radiance oils sublimer-being; our hearts follow the sticcegsive splendors of the scene; and while we forget, for a time, the obscurity of earthly concerns, we /“I feel that there are ‘ yet greater things than these.’ A There is, in the second place, an ‘ e-om-tide’ in the year—-a season wheh the sun withdraws his propitiouslight ; when the winds arise, theleaves fall, and nature around us seems to sink into_de- cay-. It is said, in general, to be the season of melancholy ; and if bythis word he meant that it is the time of solemn and serious thought, it undoubtedly is the season of melancholy :' yet it is a melancholy so soothing, so gentle in its ap-_ P1‘03<‘-lb and so prophetic in its influence, that they who have known it; feel, as instinctively, that it is the doing of God, and that the heart of man is not thus finely touched, but to fine issues. ' VVhen we go out into the fields in the evening of the year, adifferent voice approaches us. We regard, even in spite of ourselves, the still but steady advances of time. A few days ago, and the summer of the year was grateful, and every element _was.filled with life, and the sun of -heaven l V -Y. ; ; - iv. seemed to glory in his ascendant. He is now- more heard among the branches; and the earth. is strewed with that foilage which once bespoke the magnificence of summer. ' fWbatever may, be the passions which has awakened, we-‘..'pau'5e I amid this app_arent.desolation of nature. ‘ VVe sit down in the" lodge my z/tezuayfariizg inaizin me. ,'zL'1'ld.‘,‘7'ne88,” and}; e.§fe;"l,,,that all wewitness is the einhlem“of our§.?‘oiyhilfat:§._ Such also, in .a few-. years, will be our own condition. The blossoms. of our spring, the pride of our summer, will al- so fade into decay ; and the pulse that nowbeats high with.vir.tu'ous pr with vicious,glesire,Will grad- dually‘sJin‘l§,-’and'then stop forev$:r.; I _W“e~rise'.fror'n our iiiédilations with hearts softenetl and sit-bdded, _ and,,we.return into life as into a" shadowy scene, -\vhet'ecw;c_ have ‘ disquiet£(l ourselves in -’u‘az'n..’ Yet:“f.i«t_7:few years,‘ we think, and all that now -enfeebled in his power ;» the desert no niore;,.J;'.] ‘ blossoms like the rose ;’ the song of joy is no.1 iii». bless, or all tliatnow convulse humanity, will a]; 1 , - E -‘so have perished: The mightiest ‘pageantry :5," life will pass--the loudest notes o‘f-;u-imnph orof conquest will be-silent. in -the grave ;-—-the wick. ed, wherever active, ‘will cease from troubling,’ and the weary, wherever suffering, ¢ will bc at -rest.’. Under an impression so profound, we feel our hearts better. Thecares, the animosities, the hatreds, which society may have engendered,. sink, unperceived, from our bosoms. In the gen- eral desolation of nature, we feel the littleness- of our passions; we look forward to that kindred 6. evening which time must bring to all ; we anti.‘- cipate the graves of those we hate and of those “ we love. Every unkind passion falls with the leaves that fall around us ; and we return slowly to our homes, and to-the society which surrounds us, with the wish only to enlighten or to bless them. * i I ‘ ' There is an even tide in human life ; a season 1 when the eye becomes dim,‘ and the strength de- ‘ cays, and when the winter of agebegins to shed, upon the human liead,,its_‘ prophetic snow. It is- the season of life to the present is most- analagous; and much ifibecomes, and much it would profit you, my elder. brethren-,;-" Q, may}; the instructions which the season brink’ .7 The spring and the summer of your days are gone, and with them not only the joys they knew, ‘but; many of the friends who gave them. You have- entered upon the autumn of yottr_,,bt_;i_n‘g ;. and, whatever may have been the pt'offfsioft‘ of your’, ' summer, there is yet aseason of stillncss'and solitude which the beneficence of Heaven-afl'ot’tls you, in which you may meditate upon the past and the future, and prepare yourselves for the mighty change which you are soon to undergo. ‘In the long retrospect of your journey, you have seen every day the shades of the evening fall, and every year the clouds of winter gather. But you have seen also, every succeeding day, the morning arise in its brightness, and in every succeeding year, spring return to renovate the winter of nature. It is now you may understand the magnificent language of Heaven. It min- gles its voice with that of revelation—-it sum- mons you in these hours, when the leaves fall, and the winter is gathering, to that evening study‘ which the mercy of heaven has provided in the book of salvation-: andwhile the shadowy valley opens, which leads to the abode of death, it speaks.of that hand which can comfort and can save, and which can conduct to those ‘ green pas-i tures and' those still waters,’ where there is an eternal spring for the children of God. R’ , . i H ’ ._ \*‘.‘V.lw\;_._V“-, . _ HES HILL. # INFORMS the public that he still continues the business of Stone Cutting, At his stand,,a few rods north of the bridge,‘ where may be had Stoneyofevery description, at short notice._ He has just received a good as- ,: sortment of Vfhite Marble, of an excellent qual- ity, suitable for Head Stones, and keeps.cr-nstant- ly on hand a general assortment of Scotch Grey, and Jersey Free Stone, suitable for H€8l‘lh51 Chimney-pieces, Grave Stones, Sac. Stone, of every description ; all of which will be well finished, on terms as reasonable as can be afforded by"any one in the county, those who are ‘in the habit of peddling their stone, not excepted. Norwalk, June 3. - 5 Also, Soap, . .' ‘ I J‘-
Norwalk Chronicler