’ "With childish*step,'m'idst"opening stveets we rove,
w And mute, and sad, our various burdens bear. it ‘
_ there, for nothing is more rude than to keep a
'thority-——and papa whispered to the fourth, to ask
THEY ROAVEN FORE VER.
[Br L.‘HuN:rI.EY.] ‘ ” ' t . .
Written on preadipg:_a‘,.line of Dr. Young_’,s,_‘de’.
_ scription of the ‘motion and ‘order ’of the plan-"
etary bodies,_. , " ' - " ‘
‘ They rave forever-—wi‘tlt_out error“rove.’i
VVE, too, ro-uc c-oer ; first ‘with infant dream, » ,
VVe hang like insects o'er a summer stream ;‘
1'»,--2 ‘.4='~ .
Sooth’d and applauded by the voice of love ;-
Then high with youth_,we rush o’er painted lawns,
Half hidden liowers, and still more hidden thorns;
Mature, we wander on in paths"of care‘,
E’en too, in age we rovc:—-with spirit bent,
Tho" light be dim, and nature’s forcebe spent ;
Butrove we without error, as we go .7
I-lerepity sighs, and truth must answer——N().
‘['I‘he fullonfing is copied from ‘ Barraclouglfs
Poems,’ a brztf notice qf which was given in am‘
last. ~ .
] ‘1’E.£lCE ./2.N'D C'0.N'TE.N'1'.
Peace and -Content, ye‘ gentle powers,
That mildly soothe and cheer, ’
i Return and bless this anxious heart,
' Opprest with grief and care.
Time was, I claim’d you as my own,
A Norsonght a happierstate ;'
Despis’d the splendors of the town—
The grandeur of the great,
But now a sad reverse i feel ;
Sickness and cares annoy ;
Conflicting passions, vex my mind,
Estt'ang’d from former joy.
. Yet hope, angelic form, appears
To cheer the wounded heart;
Bids me suppress the rising sigh,
And act a patient part. ~
' Then I’ll not murmur nor repine,
Though ‘griefs and crosses come ;
Peace and content may yet return,
And make my breast their come.
The storm that long obscures the sky,
. At length must pass away ;
The darkest shades of night, must fly
Before approaching day.
The ether by the storm refin’d,
A brighter azure wears ;
The sun emerging from the cloud,
’ In lovelier smiles appears.
E’cn so, the mind opprest with grief,
May see the storm subside ; m
From cares and sorrows find relief,
And bless the changing tide.
w
Then from afflictions darksome night,
Shall rise a btighter scene, ’
Peace shall inspire with new delight,
Corztentmcrzt smile serene.
FROM THE NATIONAI. ADVOCTATE.
DQJIIESTIC ECO.N'0.MF.
‘There is no subject of specialidutyi, which is of
so much vital interest, and which is. so little un-
derstood, 'as the MANAGEMENT or CHILDREN.
I am confirmed in the opinion,frotn attentive oh-
scrvation, that this branch of domestic economy
is very much neglected, and that children were
better governed, some twenty‘-five years ago, than
they are at present. Parents, as well as society
at large, the interests of country, and the’ Welfare
of mankind, depend, in a great measure, on car-
ly impressions-—on a-proper impulse and direc-
tion, given to children’s minds ; and this cannot
be neglected without violating those great obliga-
tions which morality imposes. I am excessively
fond of children when they are not rude and
noisy, and can possibly have no higher gratifica-
tion than in mixingin their innocentamusements
and participating in their joyful gambols ; I take
great pleasure in conversinguvith a sensible, mod-
est boy, and can nurse a rosy cheek’d infant for
hours, if the urchin does not cry. \Vith such
feelings, I accepted an invitation from a friend to
dinner, who had a large family of young chil-
dren, and who seasoned hisinvitation by assuran-
ces that I should meet some gentlemen of intelli-
gence, as well as beingigratilied with the sight of
a promising family. These were sufficient in-
ducements; and at the appointed hour I was
family waiting dinner beyond the hour of invita-
tion. I met with a friendly welcome; and the
young ones, consisting of three boys and a girl,
were severally ordered up tolshakehands with
me, and be exhibited. Theyieach made some re-
sistance, shufiied off a litt_le, and came very re-
luctantly. I did.not augtigs well from this speci-
men of breeding: a child should be taught to ap-
proach a stranger with respectful confidence, di-
vested alike of assurance or timidity. I would
not judge hastily, and dinner was shortly announ-
ced. T_he children were almost the first seated,
and there was some indecent sculiiingfor chairs,
which required the interference of the father to
stop, and which was done not without some "diffi-
culty, as mama begged him not to create at riot-—'
Order being restored I began to eat my soup, but
with little comfort: the young ones were again
noisy and clamorous ; one did not like mutton-—
the other vociferously demanded the ship of a
turkey--athird called for beer, with an air of an-
me to drink a glass of wine with him, an honor
which I would have declined, but was fearful of
hurting the feelings of the father, whorwas thus,
ruining his child, by teaching him ‘martinis, of
high lite, and customs of mat_ure"age, while yet
an infant. VVe got through the dinner after some
wrangling, a le_w tears, expostulations frcm the
father, and opposition from the In0ll_1el‘.7, -The
desert was introduced, and the young ones made
a dash at the finest of the fruit—helpcd them-
selves plen_tifully—and, while two were fighting»
for a peach, they knockedovcr a butter boat with
partlyin mafna-is -lap, partly on my black
small "clothes. I was very near losing my tem-
’ pen‘ on the occasion’; it fretted‘ me to, see" children
so much "neglected. ‘However, while the urchins
were busily engagedin destroying whatever they
fancied, I tvas»conve_rsihg with ‘a gentleman who
sat‘ opposite‘ to "inc", _—on‘ the 'su'bj"ect of manufac-
titres, and the‘ means‘ of as-gt-easing, pauperism
‘and giving ernployrnent“"to~ our"poor ; b‘ut‘_this
‘deeply interestingttopic was "interrupted by the
nurse Entering,‘ with an infant in her arms, and a
boy of two years old, lea‘di‘ng’by"the hand.’
new scene "of uproar coirnntenced ; the ‘children
seized the baby—the‘baby squalled for fruit-the
young one grasped at every thing in his way--a
perfect riot ensued--and it was with great diffi-
culty that the‘ room wasicleared. after bribing
each of them with something eatable. I took my
departure with pleasure,"happy in terntinating
this unpleasant interview. " ’ ' _
Times are strangely altered, or rather wltole‘-'
some doctrines have become unfashionable.-.—
When I was a boy, my breakfast, with seven 'oth- ,
ers, consisted of milk and water, or very weak
I coffee, which was placed in a large earthen‘ pin,
and each of ushad a tin cup, and two good sli es
of bread and butter: all of ottr meals wer_,e so v-
ed up, in this manner, under the superintcnda cc
of one of the family, and we were dispatched‘-to
school at the proper hour: we had a reasonabie
proportion ofdelicacies reserved for us, atidat
night we joined the family party, who were all
pleased to see us, and that was the season of
mirth and judicious hilarity : our educat_io‘n- 'as
not neglected--our appetites were not pampereti--
our minds were not ruin_ed_by extravagance-and
ottr principles were not vitiated by bad eixatnplesi
Nothing can have a better etfect than adojgtinga
it if the principles are sound. A very ,’s’ole‘jm_‘_h;
and sacred duty is imposed upon parents‘, not-ion-‘C
ly to feed and clothe theirichildren, (for tltatizip-
pears to be the bottndary attention with many
' persons) but to preseve their minds and niorals
pure-to inculcate, by‘/zrecqzt and exam/Ila, les-
sons of prudence, economy ‘and industry. This
can only be affected in one way ;' by decision and
judicious severity. Unless a child fears his‘- pa-
rent,’ he will never obey or respect him. This
severity does not consist in beating a child--but
keeping him "at a respectful distance ; crushing
in the bud every attempt at wit, or, what is called
smart sayings, the precursors only of insolence,
rudeness and ill-manners; but, on the contrary,
im'printing upon their waxen minds, lessons of
milduess, temperance and ‘industry. It should
be rementbered, that familiarity destroys respect,
and where there is no respect, there is no fear-—
whcre there isjno fear, there is no obedience. A
child may fear his parent; but in time he will
discover the good qualities of his father, account
forhis severity and love him; and that very se-
verity will induce a child to do nothing that may
offend him. Let them live hardy when young ;
partake of rough but wholesome fare; abstain
from luxuries ; dress plainly ; give them little or
no money ; teach them to earn it; give them a
trade when they are able to work, or a suitable
profession ; see that their time is employed, and
comfzel them while under your care, to obey your
commands, and they will turn out good citizens.
It is a fact which is undeniable, that seven-eighths
of the bad characters who disfigure the world-—
who are useless themselves--of no credit or ser-
vice to their families, have been thus reduced to
extremities from the culpable neglect and unpar-
donable indifference of parents. HOWARD.
-—‘$-’3lC--?-—-
In ,1747, a man was broken alive on the wheel
at Orleans for a highway robbery ; and not hav-
ing friends to bury his body, when the execution-
er concluded he was dead, he gave him to a sur-
geon, as a subject to _lecture on. The thighs,
legs, and arms, of this unhappy wretch, had been
broken ; yet, on the surgeon’s coming to exam-
ine him, he found him reviv_i_ng; and, by the ap-
plication of proper cordials, he was soon restored
to his speech. _
The surgeon and his pupils, moved by the suf-
ferings and solicitations of the robber, determin-
ed on attempting his cure ;; but he was so man-
gled that his two thighs and one of his arms were
amputated. Notwithstanding this mutilation,
and the loss of blood, he recovered : and in this
situation, the surgeon, by his own desire, had him
conveyed in a cart, 50 leagues from Orleans.
where as he said, he intended to gain his liveli-
hood by begging.
' His situation was on the road side, close by a
wood; and his deplorable condition excited -pity
from all who saw him. In his youth he had served
in the army, and he now passed for a soldier, who
had lost his limbs by cannon shot. ‘ '
A drover, returning from market, where he
had been selling cattle, was solicited by thejr_ojb-
her for charity ; and being moved by compassion,
threw him some silver. ‘ Alas,’ said the robber,
‘ I cannot reach it-—'-you see I have neither arms
nor legs,’ (for he had concealed his arm, which
had been preserved, behind his back,) ‘ so, for the
sake of Heaven, put your charitable donation in-
to my pouch.’ I
The drover approached him, and, as he stoop-
ed to reach up the money, the sun shining, he
saw a shadow on the ground, which caused him
to look up ;—when be perceived the arm of the
beggar elevated over his head, and his hand grasp-
ing ashort iron bar. He arrested-the blow in its
descent '; and seized the robber, carried him to
off to thenext town, which was very near and
brought him before a rnagistrate. ‘
On searching him,"a whistle was found in his
pocket, which induceda suspicion that he had_ac-
complices i_n- thc_ wood; and‘the magistrate or-
dercd a guard" to theplace whereithe robber ‘had
been. seized, and_t_hey arrived within half an_hour
"after the murder of the d_t‘ov_er was attempted.
" -The guard having concealed themselves behind
under the ground, three "men at the same time ri-
sauce for the pudding, which they safely lodged
sing from the midst of the bushes. The soldiers
system with children, and never departing’-»-from“
his cart, intojwhich having thrown him, hedrove:
different.‘trees,the_whistle was blownnmmediate-.
ly after which another whistle‘ washeatd from‘
/ .
_iired.and they fell. The bushes were ‘searched,
and a cave discovered. Here they found 3 young
girls and _a 'I‘h£:git'ls‘_w'ere keptlor the of-
fi.c'_es’,of s,e'ti,ant_s and tlie"‘purposcs of lust-; the
boy scaricffly 12: years ofage’ was son to one of
the iroblfiérs. ' The girls~stat_ed that they had liv-
ed'3 years‘ in the cave, and had been kept" there
by force, from the time of their captivity‘; that
dead bodies were frequently carried into the cave,
stt-ipped, and buried, and that theiold soldier was
carried out every day, and sat by the road side for
two ‘or three hours. ‘ “ ‘ i
_ ‘on this evit_lence,'the ' murderingIm‘e'ndicant
was condemned to suffer, a second 'e'xécu_tion on
the wheel. As butionearm remained, it was to
be broken in several places ; and ‘a ton]; dc grace
beingdenied, he lived in tortures for. n"ear 5 days.
‘When (lr'a(l,his body was burnt to ashes,and strew-
ed before the winds of heaven.‘ ‘ .
' 7 —.—<,t--2'1:--lb-— "
1"roni the Lonclon ‘Courier.
BREACH OF PROMISE OF IYIARRIAGE,
, Gibbs, -us. Pac/crwood, -widow. 1’
The defendant having’ permittedtjudgment to
go by default, a jury of the county of Surry as-
sembled before the Sheriff to assess the damages
which the plaintiff had sustained. .
Mr. Barry, for the plaintiff, stated the case.--‘
His client was, he said, a farmer, and had been a
publican, both of which stations in society’ he fil-
led with great credit to himself. His circum-
stances‘ were so comfortable, that he began to
look _about for a wife, and was indifferent as to the
weightof her purse, so that she possessed those
qualities,‘ without which the matrimonial state
was liable to ‘become worse than any other war-
fare. His age had attainedjthat season when ‘the
hey day of*the blood is tame, ’tis humble, and
_waits upon the judgment,’ and his eye no longer
rested upon those intrinsic beauties which too fre-
quently throw the judgment into mean captivity.
Directed by amind so constituted, it would have
*bec-n improbable ‘that he should select a girl for
his companion. His habits were too much in the
honest and sincere John Bull style to admit ofthe
follyof sentiment in this most important event of
man’slife. Conscious that he must look for hap-
piness in congeniality of soul,'hc cast a glance at
the widow of a worthy citizen in London, who
scented to.him front the fulness of her years, her
person and her understanding, to be well adapted,
either to the task of obedience or authority, which
men alternately bestow upon their wives, as tem-
pers or occasion dictates. She was the widow of
a man whom every man had reason to bless, at
least once a day after shaving himself-—th'e wid-
ow of the celebrated Packwood, who had proved
that he hadjthought her worthy of his choice by
leavingher in his lastwill and testament 6001. per
annum. The annuity was, the learned counsel
repeated, by no means a prominent object, altho’
to be sure it was by no means an objection ; for
his client sensibly considet'ed,thatin the marriage
state it was desirable that the se_nse of inferiority,
which thewant offortune usually inspired, should
not exist-obligation being rather remote from
love. ‘
About four years ago the plaintiff and defend-
ant first saw each other. They were delighted.
The widow's eye, was lighted up‘ with unusual
brilliancy. The defendant felt its power ; it was
an intellectual eye—-not one of that hold and ir-
regular motion which claimed familiarity with a
stranger, but conveying an expression of love on
whonrit was fixed with a constant gaze. Lan-
guage soon burst forth; declarations of never-
failing affection were reciprocally made, and the
widow Packwood who had been so happy in abus-
band, consented to try the experiment a second
time, and pledged herself to become -the wife of
Mr. Gibbs; but unfortunately forthe client ofthe
learned counsel,.her name, though now changed,
was not Gibbs. It ought to be Gibbs, for she had
made a promise in the face of heaven ; it ought
to be Gibbs, for the recording angel had written
it down, and no tear, except that of scalding re-
pentance could ever obliterate the impression;
it ought to be Gibbs, for Gibbs had lixed his heart
upon the expectation, and recompense him for
the injury he ha_tl sustained. ' The widow was one
of the most "extraordinary widows that ever came
into a court ofjustice. It would appear that she
delighted in entrapping and disappointing men ;
for but little before she became acquainted with
his ‘client, another suitor had presented himself,
and been promised her hand. A short acquaint-
ance, however, satisfied thelady, and she turned
blf her admit'er, who applied to the benevolent
power of the law, which never failed in healing
the wounds inflicted either by man or woman, and
gave him a considerable recompense in damages.
The lady was now the property of another, but
the happy couple was separated by mutual con-
sent, not onjaccount of any defect in the temper
of either, but because she was economically in-
clined, while he was rather munificent. The Ju-
ry would, it was to be hoped, give by their verdict
’a warning to all widows. »
Several letters, written by the defendant to the
plaintiff, _were read, in order to show thebreach
of promise; and several witnesses examined.-
The J ury, after someconsultation, returned a ver-
dict for the plaintiff. Damages 201.
Clzirgesc method of taking wild fo-wl.——VVhenev-
er thefowler sees a number of ducks in any par-
ticular splash of water, he sendsoff two or three
gourdsi to float among 4them——'I'he“se goards re-
semblelour pumpions ;’ but, being made hpllow,
they swim on the surface of the water ; andm one
pool there may sometimes be seen, 20 or 30 of
these gourds floating together. At first the fowls)
are shy at comingnear them, but by degrees they ‘
approach nearer ; and as all birds at length grow
familiar‘ with a scarecrow, the ducks gather about.
them, and amuse themselves by whetting their
bills against them. ' " '
When the birds areas familiar with thegourds
as the fowler wishes, he prepares to deceive them_
more effectually. _ Heltollows out one of these
gourds large enough to put his head in ; and ma-
king holes to breathe and see through, he claps rm.-nt, w
it on his head. Thus accoutered, he wades slow- give /u'm"39 laslu-o..'
71:’ intojthe water, keeping ills body under, and
3&3 in 3m0l_ig them ; while 'they,1bei_ng used to .,.
.3110. in this manner, pays the .floc|;-«(mice 0,. four
"heaps of congealed blood all around the place
‘preached in compassion’ to souls, and to. please
nothing butfhis head in the gourd above the sur.
£803: tnhthat he moves i-mpercpeptibly towardsjhe
ow s w. osuspect no danger. _v :At» last; be fairly
_3¢,'€ig0ll"d§a take not the least alarm while the eno, ‘ ‘
eI_n_y‘ts tntheyery midst of them ; and aniassid.
“‘-:_l?5,l"={1:§=mybhe ts'_;_for. wheneverhe apptoache ,
gag qw ‘j ehsetzes it by. the leg§,.,,nd.d.,-a,.,§,, under
W3 6|‘ 9 I ,8I‘¢.:|te fa_stens'_tt under his girdle, and
proceeds to the next, unttlxhe has loaded himself
Wllh as many as he can carry away. 3 W113“ he
has got his quantity, 1,e?sj0wj)', moves: Off Wain _
. W V '
Visits in _a day. Of alfthe--attifices for catching
FOWL this. seemslikely to‘ be attended with the
greaifist Success; and is the most practised in 'Chi‘- ~
na. - .. , . ' ,. .
V ‘THE VAMPIRE.
Capt. Stedman was, while in Surrinam, attack.
ed during-his sleep by one of these -animals-—and
as his account of-this incident is somewhat sing-u.
lat:, and tends to elucidate thefact, we shall give
It in his own language from‘ his narrative. ‘ I
cannot here (says he) forbear relating a singular
circumstance respecting myself, viz.‘ mat, on W a_
king one morning, I .was..extt-emely alarmed in
finding myself vrelter1ng31_n blood, and without‘.
feeling any pain whatever. Istarted up and rung - ;~
for the surgeon, with a fire brand in onehand, .
and all over besmeared with gore ; to which if '
added my pale face, short hair, and ‘tattered, ap-
parel, he mightwell ask thejquestion :
Be than a s/zirit qf/zealt/1, or goblin d'amn'd-_~_ .
Bringfist with thee airs of/zeavm or blastsfromi bell? ‘
The mystery, however, was, that ‘I had been
bitten by the Vampire, or spectre of Guinea,
which is also called the flying dog of New Spain,
and by the Spaniards perrovolador :—-This is n "
other than a bat, of a monstrous size, that stick
the blood from men and cattle while they are fast"
asleep, even sometimes till they die ; and as th
manner in which they proceed is truly wonderful,
1 shall endeavor to give you a distinct account of
it. Knowing by instinct that the person is in a
sound slumber, they "generally alight near the
feet, where, while the cream re continues fanning,
with his enormous wings, which keeps one cool,
he bites a piece out of the tip: of the toe, so very G
small indeed, that the head ofa pin could scarce-- '
lybe_receive'd into the wound, which is conse.
quently not painful ; yet, throttgh this orifice he
continues to suck the blood until he is obliged to-
disgorge. He then begins again ; and thus con-
ttnues sucking and disgorging‘ till he ‘is scarcely '.
able to fly ; and the sufferer‘ has often been known
to sleep from time to eternity.—Cattle they gen.
erallybite in the ear, but always in places where‘
the bloodflows spontaneously. Having zlppligd
tobacco ashes as the best remedy, and washed the
gore from myself and hammock, I obseved small
r
where I had lain, upon the ground ; on examin-
ing which, the snrgeon judged that I had lost at
least 12 or 14 ounces during the night.
An old Divine, prcaclting before an association
ofministers, and desiring to quicken them in tlte;- ,_
regard to the principal end and motive from 4
which they acted, pointed them to the last and
awful day of judgment; and having considered
Christ the Judge, as seated on his throne, he rep. . ,
resented him as calling his ministers to an ac- ‘A
count, inquiring how they had preached, and with
what views. ‘. _
He calls one first, and puts this question to
him--‘ VVhat did you preach for ?’ He answered,
‘ I preached, Lord, that I might keep -.; wry good
living left me by my father; and which would
have been lost‘ to the family had I not taken or-
ders.’ Christ says to him‘, * Stand by, thou hast
had thy reward.’
The question is put to another-—‘And what did
you preach for ?’ . He replies, ‘ Lord, I was ap,..
plauded as a very learned man; and I preached:
to keep up the reputation of an eloquent orator,-
and an ingenious preacher." Christ’s anstverjo:-.
him, ‘Stand by, thou hast had thy reward. . . ,5.
The Judge put the question to a third-—‘.An,Cl'
what did you preach for.’ * Lord,’_.say5 he, I I
neither aimed at the great things of,t_his world,
though I was thankful for the conveniences oflife,
which thou gavest me ;'nor did I preach to ac-
quire the characler of a_ wit, or a scholar, but I
.4‘.
and honor thee. My design in preaching was,
Lord, to win souls to thy blessed Majesty.’ Up-‘
on this the Judge called out, ‘ Room, men ! room,
angels I Let this man come and sit down with me
on my throne, as I am set down with my Father
on his throne; he has owned and honored -me on
earth, and I will own and honor him through all
eternity !’ ' '
The result of this represen_tation_ was, that all
the ministers went home much alfecterl; resol.
ving, that through the help ofV'Cod. “they would
mind their work more, “M1 100k batter to their
aiins and ends ever after.
‘U
In consequence of the exemption of marriet_i'
men from the military _conscription now" levying
in Sicily-—it is said 80.00 young men got married
within a few weeks. Here then is the long sought
law which will operate on Bachelors. 4
Remarkable Ifcczuzrlily.-.03 Tuesday last. the
wife of Mr. Thomas Small, a ftshernn:n in the
lower end of the town, was-safely delivered of
Four living Children ’ ’ ’ ’ three boys and a girl.
The mother, we understand- is doing well; but
are sorry to add, none of the children are .alive,
all having.died-within six hours. of their birth.--
Mrs. S. is agyoung woman, these being her first
children.—-Newbury/tort Herald. - 4
v ./1 learned 'Ju'c1gc.--The Alabama Courier gives
the statement of a trial of a slave, Tony,in one of <
the county courts ofthe territory, forinsolent lan'- 9
guage. The jury found Tony not guilty, but re-
commended that‘ he be reprintanded by the court.
The judge said that a re/zrimand meant a /zurzis/b
and ordered the constable to take Tony and