...__....—
glsd Henry in a faint’. ‘tvoice, the tone of which was
just as they reach
it me ! perhaps you kno ,
‘twliat pain have we give '0 Y0“-
. VVHEN coLn- iii tr-an E.ui‘rii——by T. Moore-
When cold in the ‘earth lies t'he’frierrd thou hast
I_OV’(I, . .‘ I _ A
His faults and his follies forgot by thee thpn ;
‘Or if from their slumber the veil he re_mOV (la
Weep o’er them in silence and ‘close it again.
And Oh l if ’tis pain to remember how far,
From the pathways of light he -was t'c'mped to
Tm) ' -
Be it bliss to remember that thou wast the star
That arose on. his darkness and guided him
home. '- ‘
Front thee and thy innocent beauty first caine
‘The revealings that taught him true love to a-
dore— \
To feel the bright pleasure and turn him with
shame I
From the idols be daikly had knelt to before.
O’er the waves. of a life, long benighted and
wild, ‘ ' ‘ '
_ Thou cam’st, like a soft golden calm on the
sea :
And if happiness purely and glowingly smil’d
On his evening horizon, the light was from
thee.
And though sometimes the shade of past folly
j would rise,
:2‘ And though falsehood again would alItn'e him
V to stray, __ _ ’ "
I-Ie but turn’d'to that -glory that dwelt in those
eyes, -
,And the fully, the falseliootl soon vanished a-
. way) '
AS the Priests~of the Sun, when their altar grew
dim, . I
At the day-beam alone could its lustre repair,
So, if virtue a moment grew languid In 3-131‘.-
He but -llew to that smile and rekindled it there.
*3..__— —
HE.N'B.f’; Wilfll) VILLE.
is 'r,.t1.r.——-xiv MIIS. orin.
[cox'i'ii:UisD.]
3 I never l'eirieinbe'!' to have felt so much iut.~.-
rest in any trial, as: I did in that of young ‘.'Vo0d-
ville,’ said Mrs. Viiicc-tit. ‘ I had heard niij ac-
quaintance, Mr. Courtnay, speak so well of him,
that Iwished him to be acquitted. B!!! be was
found guilty; and really, in my opiiiiun, on in-
controvertible evidence. \Vhat do you think
Mr. Gr-amille, for I conclude you read the ~‘:'ial ?’
‘ Yes, madam,’ he replied in a hoarse voice. ' I
have read it, and the circumstantial evidence is
the strongest I ever saw.’ I
*' There, Anna,’ said .\l’rs. Vincent.
‘ Yes,’ she replied, ‘I own it is very strong;
but I have seen as strong; and yet the iiinoceiice
of the poor creature, who has been hanged in
corsequence of it, has been proved at last. Bur,
dear mother, Mr. Granville has not yet said he
thinks poor llenry guilty.’
‘No,’ said I'Iclll‘Y firmly, yet in an impeded
tone ; ‘Inever can say it: for I am sure I“I€ll7"~"l
VVoor..hille is as innocent as you are of the ci--_-;',;,_,
iriiputéd to him.’ _ j
‘ There, there-—-do you hear that ?’ c:',',,d A,-,,_,,.,
triumphantly.- ‘ Oh, how I t‘cj¢.il,»,;’¢ um, he es.
capedl And you know, ina:iima_,_’[ ,i,,’,,., gm} I
‘wished we had known liini, Kiitl be had fled to us
fol‘, Shell?’ 5 f0!‘ ill 0113' last Iiotise we éouhl have
ioncealv.-cl liim s--. ‘,'..7;-2',E'’
,‘ Pt.-l'l".:tps so, but we 3/tau/d not have cnnmgalcd
Iiirn, I believe. I ccrutd not have lll0tl;;‘lll it right
9" l‘“."'3 lDlt='f<‘-“=<l in Such a I'1l't‘tlH'»Cl‘ mtli the ex-
ecution nf j-.,istice.," _
‘ Of jaisticel but are you sure it was justice,
mamma ?’
‘ Yet-—-I fear it was; and under those circiim-
stances I ’.-zhould not have thong};-t myself justifi-
ed in lio.’ldin,; any communication wha'.evcr with
the culprit.’ '
‘ Culpiii 1" ci-ied‘Auna, ‘I cannot hear to hear
you call him so; and I hope, wherever he is, he
will never be rtiscovered; and I have no doubt
but that one day: or other_his innocence will b.
made inanilest. Do not you agree" with me Mr.
Granville 3’ ' ,
‘ I earnestly hope: and even trust it will,’ rep‘.i-
so toiicllif-lg, and he seemed to speak with such
feeling, that Anna int ned towards him, and said
ed 1',v,“f_‘.rs. Viiicent’s door—‘ Dear
,5.;v M-r. .VVoodville ?——If so,
Henry pressed her ~l1«.mrl, but did not reply;
and they entered the hous'*-’-’ ,
Mrs. Vincent, as it was now dark. called for a
candle ; and having gone ‘in Seafch Of \.'-'lN<=>
brought Henry 3 glass, gynic-li he drank with it
shaking hand; but he did not“ offer to sit down.
though he was engaged to sup'_D8i‘a and Sllppel‘
was ready. - 5, _
, ‘ Why do you not sit down, ME‘. Granville ?’
said Mrs. Vincent; ‘you do not Seem fit to
stand :’ while Anna gazed on his altei‘<:£l Counte-
nance with tearful eyes. ,
‘ I am still less fit to sit in yourpresenc "2, mad-
am,’ replied Henry, with an assumed tll'.;7‘."‘l(‘-l‘,
though in a trembling voice: ‘ nor Ullaltlll0t‘l'<’.t?(I
by you, madam, will I ever appear before you zi-
gain :--in me you behold that ui-ifortiiiiute per-
son, Wham, though you pity, you condemn‘-—for I
am Henry l‘Vood-ville .”_ i ‘
As he said this, he leaned nearly fainting a-
gainst the door ; and Anna, iinpelled by at variety
of ferliti s, was springing tow-.irdi~. him, but was
checked y it severe glance from her mother,
who, notwitlisianding, was so overcome with the
discoveiy, and the involuntary compassion and
well motived regard which she felt towards Hen-
ry, not only as a companion, but as the preserver
of her life, that she could not speak for some min-
utes. But rising suddenly,.she took 1-lenry’s
arm, and with gentle force led him towardsya
seat.
The action said much,and Henry felt» comfort-
ed. She then rcscated herself; and leaning her
head on her weeping dau'ghter’s shoulder, burst
into tears. . ' _. . -
\Vhen she recovered, she said, ‘ I.little thought
that any thing could have wealiehed my convic-
tion of the guilt, of Henry 'Woodville. But,
such has been your conduct since we knew you,
.'and such is the evidence in your_ favor borne-by
your countenance and manner, that Iown to you,
‘dear unhappy young man, that my belief is sha-
ken. I can only‘add, that I wish to hear the
whole storyfrom yourself, when you are able to
relate it‘ I’ ' . ~
g ‘ I am able now,’ he replied, ‘and before ‘we
part, you shall know all my presumption, and all
my misery.’ '
The story was long, for Henry began with his
first seeing Anna, and the whole detail of his love,
and his-hopes, and his wishes: but when he own-
ed with manly openness, but with becoming mod-
esty, that be delayed the interests of his love, in
order to forward the honorable plans of his fu-
ther, Mrs. Vinceut’s parental heart yearned to-
wards the pious child; and she felt it must -be
nearly impossible for such a being to be a mur-
derer. ' . 4 —
Ai:na,.‘meaiiwhile, hid her blushing face on the
table ; butinsensibly she drew her chair nearer
to Heni‘y’s ;~_ and before he had finished his nar-
ration, it iv-.25. on me back of I-Ienry’s chair that
her arm and Head it-posecl.
To be bi'ief—"gHenry’s storyliad such an effect
on Mrs. Vincent, that she assured him she was
nearly if not quite convinced of his innocence.--
‘ And,’ added sh’.-, * if the WI‘ett‘hc(l man fell by
your hand, I am sure it was while you were so
intoxicai-_d as not to know what you did, or to re-
membcr ii the next day. And, really, if you did
not, who did, do you think, destroy him ? Do you
think he killed l:ini'sel_l 3’
* No ; but I have strong suspicions that one of
the waiters, who saw him tli-splay his gold, did it,
and was fi-igiitened away before he had securL~'tl
the money.’ _ ~ '
~ Yes,’ suitl Anna eagerly, ‘If I had been your
coups:-l,.l would have cross-exaininetl pretty se-
~(-rcly that witness, oiir: of the waiters, whose
uanic I f-n-,=:.et, who wore a shade over his eyes ;
and I would have tried to find out how long . his
eyes had llrcll inflamed.’
Henry owned that he had since regretted
’l‘-inmis ll<t(l been the only waiter closely exam-
incri, because he was the only one suspected.
W'hen Henry rose to take leave, Mrs.-Vincent,
whose j-.n.irney had been delayed ten days longer
than she expected, by unforeseen occurrences,
now told him that she hoped he would not think
her unkind, if she left her present residence on
the following Monday, never to return : as, tho’
a union with him under other circumstances
would gratify the dearestc wishes for her daugh-
ter, at present he must feel that, as a mother, it
was her duty to suspend all intercourse between
them.
_ ‘ This is Friday,’ added Mrs. Vincent : ‘ On
Monday I shall be ready to set off; and on Stin-
day I- shall be glad to see you; but it must be
I01’ the 133‘ l.l1‘.'.'.:. uiiiessihe situation of things
Cllall§_"';5g_t_' _
i*‘roni this decision I-Ic:iirv’s heart might appeal,
but his jv.y'.i;ii=.«.-iit could not ‘: and as Alina: "iii?
an lligcrt-‘.‘O'isliesS which endeared her the inorc‘
iu him, had owned that were tie in a situation lo‘
ask her hand, it should without any hesitationlie
his, he felt liappier than he could have expected
to be, when he returned to his home. But then
he was relieved by the consciousness that disguise
and coiiceahnent, to which till now he had been a
stranger and an enemy no longer burdened his
mind ; and he had also the proud satisfaction of
ki:owing, that in discovering who he was, at the
risk of being forbidden the house of Mrs. Vin-
cent. he ‘had made an honorable sacrifice of his
happiness to his iiitegrity.
In the morning, however, when he rose, he re-
nicmbered with agony that he could no longer
'j)>=)‘ his accustomed visits, and take his accustoni-
ed .\ alks ; and his spiritgs were so depressed, that
he :I~.iICl to himself, ‘ I will not go out to day.-’——
But though he was not conscious of it, the prob-
able: tea-son why be resolved to stay within was,
that he might watch for a sight of Anna, and
sometimes, perhaps, catch a look from her in re-
turn.
Nor did" he. during that day, often leave the
window of his apartment; consequently he did
not visit the poor invalid : but Mrs. Evans did,
and promised to excuse his not coming.
'I'lie whole of the morrow (which was Satin‘-
day) Henry passed within, partly from the wish
of watching for Anna, and partly from ln(llS[)O5l-
tion ; and as he concluded Mrs. Evans would vis-
it the invalid, be omitted to send him a message,
which he would have otherwise done. _
But Mrs. Evans did not visit him; and when
Henry, certain he could no longer expect to see
Anna at her door or window, was contented to
-:.luse his curtains, and throw himself on the sofa,
to gain, if possible, a little sleep, in the dark
how‘, he was suddenly disturbed by the entrance
'of Mrs. Evans, who begged he would poms down
stairs o'ii'ectly, to pacify the poor sick man James, _
who was below, insisting on seeing Jilin. and (It-
,clai'iiig, if he did not see him, he should conclude
that same mischief had befallen him. _
Henry instantly rose and went down to him.-—
_\i sign: of hi__m the wretched man clasped his
hands in a transprort of joy, and uttering ‘ Thank
God I thank God *1’ left the house before Henry
could put asingle question to him. _ A
' Henry had passedpso sleepless a night, that
he had only just breaizfasted when’the bell rang
for church; and as Mifis. Vincent had promised
to receive him’ at her 'h'3§l1Se 0" SU“‘l"*Yi H¢'“")’
d'id not scruple to go to public worship, though
sure to meet her and Anna there; painful in-
deed it would‘ have been to him to gl\'e UP this
last opportunity of worshippitt-_g with the beloved
of his heart. .—
To church then Henry directed his steps. In
the porch he saw the odious wife of James, who
met him without any other notice than a malig-
nant look,whose marked meaning he could not
understand, and who snapped her fingers with a
sort of triumphant contempt as he passed her.‘ .
After service was begun, two odd-lookingmen;
strangers, entered the aisle 5 and as they were to
~-‘
. 3 1055 ll?!‘ 3 Pl‘-‘Va I‘Ieiiry courfeously opened the
door of that which he occupied. They accepted
the offer ; and it was not long before they embar-
rassed him by the earnest and examining manner
in which they regarded him. I
Henry soon discovered that they had no pray-
’ er-books, he therefore lent thcmhis ; but he saw
that they were incapable of usingit, and was con-
vinced that they were not fr-eque'ntin_tl‘ieir attend»
ance on public worship--at least not in a church.
1 hey might indeed besectaries, but they wanted
the serious and devout demeanor of persons be-
longing to any set ofwvorshippers ;—and fears,
painful fears for himself took possession of his
mind. _ .
VVhcn clinrcli was over, he stopped in the aisle.
tp speak to Mrs. Vincent and Anna, whose eye,
like his own, watched the motions of these odd-
looking men, and saw with alarm that they fol-
lowed close at the heels of Henry.
Just as they reached the church porch the
men passed him ; then, turning suddenly round,
they each seized him by the arm, and showed
their warrants to-arrest him in the King’s name.
‘ Whom do you take me for?’ asked Henry.
‘For Henry \Voodville, a prisoner escaped
from Abingdon jail, and condemnedto die for
lIllll‘(lcl‘.'f , _
‘ I am Henry Vlfoodiille,’ he replied, ‘ and I-
surrender myself. But of the mtlrder for which
I must snfl'er, take notice, all who are present,
that I am as innocent as you are.’
‘ Come,'come--that is cant we are used to,’ re-
plied the men. ‘ VVe have a cart waiting for us,
and to it you must go.’
(To be concluded in our next.)
——:--$-:::~®€D-i::-¢-———-
No news---no news—no news--Every thing
dull. dry, and uninteresting—Notliing to stir the
blood and spirits——No blazing cities, blood-stain-
ed fields, slaughtered millions, and all that kind
of thing---No battles, seiges, plots, assassinations,
and such like royal sport, for those who are de-
lighted with ‘ Guns, trumpets, blunderbusses,
drums and thunder-.’—But every thing goes on
in peace and hainiony. The sun shines out glo-
iiously—the earth trudges merrily along, and we
don’t find that she stopped a single moment to
gaze and wonder at the magiiificentstranger with
a fiery tail, that lately came careering along thro’
her neighborhood from over the hills and far a-
way. The seasons ‘ walk their splendid round’
and ‘ scatter plenty o’er a smiling land.’ Banks
and speculators are fast approaching that ‘ un-
known country from whose bourne no traveller
returns.’ Folly is attending a course of lectures
in the college of Prudence. Extravagaiice is
submitting with a bad grace, many contortions
of visage and a ludicrous shrugging of the shoul-
ders, to the rigid and wholesome discipline of
Economy—and sober, honest, persevering indus-
try is advancing with sure and steady pace to ease
and opulence, honor and independence.
' Georgia Journal.
---s-.1:--n———
./It-rial Combat’.---A. few days ago, says a late
London paper, a_ mason and a laborer quarreled
‘on a‘ scaffolding of a spire now erecting on ‘the
‘tower of a new church. A pugilistic "encounter
ance, or probably, trace the origin of the disease,
not far from the Cofi'ee-House, was very ill, lost;
no time in calling to see her ; he knocked at the
door, entered the room, and asked foiytlie. lady
by name, who, to his surprise,?pi-esented herself
in_propi'ia pei-sonze, apparentl_v'y iirfull health, but
with a remarkable rotundy ofjappearance, being
in that delicate state in which ‘ ladies are who love
their lords.’ I beg your pardon, madam, said
the gentleman, but 1 have been told that you were
-very faratlvanced in illness, and I have called to
see if I can be of any service. 0, no, sir, I’m
not ill yet, said the lady, though pretty far advan-
cod, but I _cxpect to be ill in a few days——but you
can be of no service t_o me, as I always -employ a
midwife, and no‘. a male ’acgouclier, as the French
call him. The gentleman bowetl, the lady curisi.
Cd: and the parties wit_ljt;lFe.\v'. The pliilanthiro-.
pist made a favorable rep’o'rt to the new,Bo"ai-cl of
Health of the case—,--‘ Not ill yet, but expected to
be 1’--Nat. Adv. -. ' - ‘ .
HARD IMES.-—<'iVIai'rie(I, in Ashfielcl, John
Godber, to"‘Eli2a‘~ VVitham. As a proof of the
distress that prevailsjin that populous place, from
the stagnation oll~trade,_we are informed that the.
ceremony ‘being ended, the names registered,land
the‘ books closed, the bridegroom (who has an
impediment in his speech) accosted 'the minister
thus :—‘ I, I, I,.hope, sa, sir, you will ex, ex, ex.
cuse -the fa, fa, fees, for a. fa, fa, few weeks.’--
'l‘he minister replied, < You ought to have provi.
ded money before you had come here to be mar.
ried.’ The poor man took his wife by tliearm,
and walked off, saying-—-‘ VVa, wa, when,tr-ade
mends, I’ll pa, pa, pay you, as sa, sa, soon as I
can.’—~I.z'ver/mot jziiyzer. /
A lady asked her husband what the difference
was between exportation and ti-ansportatiou.-—
My dear, replied the good natured husband, there
is a difference, and I will endeavor to bring it as
near your understanding. as possible :--suppose
you were ex/zorleid, I certainly should be trans-.
/zorzcrl. .
C'uri0u.9 Proclamafiorz.--In ls l 7,a proclamation
was issued by Henry the VIII. ‘ Ilia: women
should not meet together to babble and talk, and all
liusbands s/iould kce/2 their wives in I/i.-'z'r houses.’
A husband wishing to know how some money
had been disposed of by his wife and daughters,
was told it had been well employed, being laid
out for indie/zeizsables. "
_. —--I:--2::--II--
_ ,5:-“"-Iv pron THE GAZETTE.
The pgaséifig sentence on. all those that differ
from ' opinion is at least uncharitable, and
leads to’.‘tq " _arrow, intolerant and persesuting
spirit, wliic moi'e than any other cause has re-
tarded the progress of christianity. The quar-
rels among nominal christians, has brought infi-
iiite discredit upon christianity, in the face blin-
fidel nations. It is for the sake of this muti-
ness among the pretended f:.llowcrs of the
Lord, ll‘-it‘. the C0:n'.;ei'sie~c«-»f tl.-a lw.-:':ré.la4=n-.,',:'r 21:3
faith of Christ, is rendered almost iriipossibl: : it
has enabled the infidel to use many plausible ar-
took place, and the two fearless combattants
fought near the very summit of the unfinished
building, where it was not quite a yard in diame- l
ter. Here the champions bulfetted each other
lustily at the height of 176 feet from the ground.
Some knock down blows were given, but fortu-
nately neither of them were thrown out of the
ring : and it is indeed to be feared, that if they
had been precipitated to mother earth, she would
not have received them so kindly as she did her
favorite son of Antoas. VVe do not think a
quarrel of this nature was ever before decided by
fisticuffs, in a similar situation, unless, perhaps,
at the memorable dispute between the bricklay-
ers, masons, 8:0. who were engaged in the build-
ing of babel. The only men in modern times,
who have equalled these successors of Hercules,
were Massena and Suwarrow, who fought in the
Swiss mountains,‘ 3-4 of a niile above the clouds,
and saw the lightning-s break, and heard the thun-_
der roll, full many a fathom below the scenes of
action.
—€O?-II
Decc/ztz'on.——Sieur Boaz, the slight-of-hand-
man, was lately accosted in Carlisle, in the usual
style, by a retailer of oranges. ‘ VVell, my lad,’
said the sieur, ‘ how do you sell them ?’ ‘ Tup-
peuce a piece, Sir,’ says the orange dealer. ‘High
- priced, indeed,’ rejoined the deceiver : ‘ however
wc’ll try them.’ Cutting an orange in fotir pie-
ces, ‘ behold,’ says the sieur, (producing a new
guinea from the inside of the orange)‘ how your
fruit repays me for your extortion. Come, I can
afford to purchase one more’--and he repeated
the same experiment as with the first. ‘ Well,
to be sure,’ says he, they are the first fruit I ever
found to produce golden seeds.’ The sieur then
wished to come on terms for the whole basket-
but the astonislietlgclqtlpole, with joying alactity,
ran out of thehouse, and reaching home, began
to quarter the contents of the whole basket; but
alas I the seeds were no more than the produce
of nature—.—the conjuror alone possessing the
golden art. ' [London Pa/zer.
The Ventriloquist, CHARLES, after spending
an evening with two gentlemen, Dr. S _ and
Mr. B-—-—, made one of his humorous sallies in
Pearl-street-—in passing an empty shop, a loud
voice was heard calling for assistance, help, help,
and a crowd of people assembled directly round
the door to inquire what was the matter, when
the voice in a declining tone, called for assistance,
‘ force the door,’ and every one present anxious
to help, was endeavoring to break the _window
shutters, when the owner of the shop arrived and
opened the door.—The Ventriloquist then walk-
ed off and no one was to be fount1.—JlIerc. Adv.
-coo-—
./1necdotc.—Since the first rumor of the fever
in this city, several philanthropic gentlemen have
visited the persons supposed to have been afllict-
ed, or who may have been actually afflicted with
guments against christiaiiity. A religion, says
he, which in almost every age of the world, has
occasioned such divisions.pei-sccutions,and blond-
shed, cannot be true: and men will 2tl‘g‘,‘?c, in-dz
because the principles of civil liberty are some.
times followed by anarchy and violence, they
must be false, so that a neglect to tlistiiiguisli be-
tween rcligion and the perversion of Il,ui(" equally
to be deplored, both in re-igion and politics. W'o
might reasonably expect but men wonitl be '30.’)-
dered tolerant, from seeing how liable tliey are
to mistake ; before they presume to condemn oth-
ers for not adopting their opinion, they »..-uglit
to be not only certain that they are right, but
that the truth of their opinion has been shewn to
others so clearly that they could not fail to see it,
and that none but the enemies of truth could op-
pose them. VVhen we consider that theablest
and best of men, both in Europe and America,
have differed widely, not only as to external l'orn.s
of religion,but also about the doctiiries of the bi-
ble, it seems very strange that men should make
every article of their own belief a fundaniental
point; and it is sometimes the case, that the
more incomprehensible, and the more improba-
ble their opinions are, the more violent they are
in support of them ; and in every age, a variety
of opinions have been contended for, as of infi-
nite importance, which, by ilicir absurdity, have
excited the contempt of alter generations ; and
still men are acting as if their own reason was
infallible- The truth of‘it is, men do not love
truth sufficiently to divest themselves of passion
on those subjects wherein their sclf-interest is
concerned, for it is only when passion is silent
that reason can be heard.
Our injustice often makes us the adversaries.
of the best friends to their country, becatise they
have crushed the selfish designs which we Iltiti
formed, in opposition to the public good. Tliv.-: e
are many people who do not think for l.l‘.(:l’nSt':l\‘C:- ;
they are strangers to that pleasure which pru-
ceeds fromtthe cultivation of the mind, and ti2t.'_1'
are made the read-y dupes of designing men. It
is this which enables statesmen and the leaders of
sects and parties, to blind the people in what niosi
concerns them ; and in short an ignorant people.
are ever liable to be made the instruments of
their own ruin, and of late yeais we have seen
the mostendearing ties of blood and friendship,
dissolved by difference of religious or political o-
pinion. Itmay, with the greatest propriety, be
asked whether a humble soul, sensible of its im-
perfections, and ready to esteem others above
himself, was ever prone to tliis uncliai-itable hu-
mour? But frail man is inclined to think himself
wise, and that all his notions are divine truths.
We should remember that our shining light and
ardent zeal will stand us in no stead, if we are
destitute of that benevolence wliiclz incline-‘ U5
to think the most favorably of the hearts and the
motivesiof other men. wliirh the nitl'tn‘t: Ofll‘-‘#
case ‘will admit. '
the disorder, in order to offer consolation, assist-
A gentleman having been informed that awoman,
Norwalk Chronicler