4/‘/£5.42" »:./.r:~ .'/1' a -. :.—;:- rs.»-
L
FROM THE NEXV-YORK COLUMBIAN.
’.’l'III} S.£lILOf2’S SONG ./IT SE./2.
On Ocean’s‘ smooth, unruflled breast,
The gentle breeze ofevening blew ;
The recent storm was lull’d to rest—
The frcightcd bark in silence flew.
The helmsman watch’d the moon’s pale light ;
VVhere heaving on the mirror deep,
The sea-bird in the arms of night
\Vas lowly rock’d to tranquil sleep.
W'ith sparkling eyes he watch’d the sail,
\\'ide curving to the kissing wind—-
Then whistled to the passing gale-~
Tlien sung to Mary far behind.
His artless notes oflove arose,
Address’d to her, so sweet, so fair,
Then sinking to a tender closc—-
Combin’d and melted with the air.
“ Thou seama'n’s friend, full-mantlcd moon l
How cloudless is thy way;
Rejoice, while in thy prime, for soon
Those splendors shall decay‘ ;
Soon but a crescent faintappc-ars ;
It marks thy boundless reign l j
Then brightening with a shower of tears,
Sinks in the western main.
Ye stars, of small, yet brilliant ray-—-
Retitiug from the beams
Cf yondt,-r moon ; unseen by cl.-.ij.',
Ye live, to cheer our dreams 1
Anal oft along the silent skies,
\’t'lxen march ofstotms is 0’cr,
Ye dance, and sparkling close your tycs—--
To open them no more l
I.ike that brief moon, is life’s gay hour
Abrit'lg’tl of hztlf its bliss;
And like those s-ars, a full blown fio'—.v’t‘,
'l‘o shine no more in I/ifs;
Man for another world departs-
(lft like the ‘sltootin_§:_ star
Ila l«:$1\'€S a t: ain behind. which starts
Pale xncnfry from afar!
."‘.l«-ft, ht-‘tow, beside, around,
.Ioy’s ros-.--tree blossoms wide,
S},-t still, the thorn of care is found
Engt‘af'e:l it‘. its side!
But why indulge this mournful strain?
j.’r.m.e 5;l‘:'.til again be mine!
'Ihcn welcorn-.: l3‘leasurc—-l'.n'ewell Pain...
'i.‘li:«n Mary love is thine I"
'=,_#_-.~:::;—.;-,—.. -, __ —- ~ __.___-1-":‘E.‘-_.—---..._. .....-..:“ '5'.-':_?:E:»:v.::':.-3
':2".f1'E I"..*'C..if./ILE ff".H..-V’ }EI€L{t'.
A '.lI:i'.I.I'iu FOUNIIEI) ON F.\(.'~'I',
I ;,m t_l1;' c-l’ic"~.-2 (l.'t'.::-"lift tlftt tittlt f:.tt‘m~‘.'l‘, ll‘!-
\ ..,. .
’,,=,_;- in ;, mwr. ‘.‘,'l‘.l.,ll, for tli.~.tin.::liou sake I shall
call Agatln-.t::.f~.a. /‘.5 my parents had but one
ti-.u:gE*.terl;csitl:: iysr.-lf, I I71-‘~‘C reason to believe
t£:.‘I.-y tend-::rly lotzd me. Bu‘. l)1.l'n'CllI'.1I lrve and
t:m.‘._e:n.l tt‘;t::l(-t'n~.:~;s were cntir-.-ly :tt)‘sot‘l‘.~ctl in
zorrc-tlin;.; c" ;;j‘ct'r:c:s- fir riches. of '\\’l;iL‘l] v~c at.»
all too tct2.:ciw'.ts.
3,':‘._~,- v.;-_:s n'..u'l~:c<l by ..
3 hr first si‘.:'.t:cti \(".‘.l'3 ::f11'.t
nn«‘:tm'.mon t‘ir:ttt!ist;:rtt:-:3.
j zn ctt'i::- r ' 4- .7;-r to ~;I..ri'r.~*.t«', ii-'.~iu;;-,' csrt‘-.s-
ct‘. by ii: )''i-’‘. vs ., “ -rvl ct‘ ll:«’.«c!‘ln;; tltv; we-::l:l‘.)
and the or ,:zl .~-x_;.§-.. $1:-. ‘.lt' i:-:;.‘=:'.~: of m_v youth-
ful plo.fsm;.-_ d i.--;=.:.i«,i; : rm I"~t'=-:vli;'-;»,' p;tssi<_-.n
ll'|l'..l‘il'_j‘)l'~’_’.l my Ill .-.;,:,l:'.~: by 1. iv «-21-; i't“.il‘-i('ill‘l§
C-.tl‘(‘. (ll-tutbcd my repose by ni-_';hr. l ..%;=: flat-
tered tnvself tl-at r:--.~. urr-. had lie:st.*-t-.-wad up-9»-.3 rm.-
bee-.¢_i§ol .«..u§ ‘olo .-tni:t:.; ft."dl‘.il't.5, which nit‘: ever
b.~'.'.'it-:l.ingl'y t.'llCil'.:E".'til"-3.)’ in the eyes of the othci
§'.‘.";.
At the age of sixteen, I was lIlltl':ttr..(l into the
gay circles of the fasliionable ::nr_| arr,-gatut. I
was lilitwl‘-.6 instructed in the mean arts of dis-
simul-atio'n, which were then, and ever will be, u-
dious to my ilcLtl‘l. I ever lJcll';“-‘etl in the pazity
of mankind; and for this reason l:'(‘tj‘-,tt:“.ttly took
my wallts among my fatl.!3t"s tenants, and other
poor pr.-up-le, who inh-.«.bite.(l out‘ nt-ighborlioocl;
and it was Seldom tl‘.-at I visited them without the
(ilSilI.l‘;UllOI) c-fa few shillings among them ; and
often would the aged and infirm bcdcw my hands
Wiilt tears, which would more than stillicicntly
rewartl my labors; for I have ever considered it
a duty incumbent on the rich, to lessen their af-
:‘lucr.t stores to save the wretched from penury
and starvation.
About thistime, Ibecame acqtzainted with‘ a’
youth whose name was Edwin. lie was a per-
fect model of manly l.-eattty. I"rom his eyes beam-
ed a thousand graceswltich are not to be express-
ed but realized. llis manly checks were tinged
with rermiliion ; his hair hung in ambrosial curls
about his beautiful forehead ; his lips were ofa
crimson tint; in his-eyeslove seemed luxurious-
ly playing, and his shape was perfr.-ctly uniform.
lie was then no more than twenty. From this
hour might be dated the sorrows of my life. I
had often received the addresses of men, and had
as often neglected them ; but now my heart be-
came Iflfl-1lCCl with new ideas. The soft passions
of love stole imperceptibly upon my heart, until l
Lll§COV<:l‘C(l that he was the sol-: object by which
I was attracted. I was frequently in his compa-
ny, and by his actions I discovered that he loved
mt... ~ Mypassion btcatne so ardent. that I could
not banish him from my tnind—-days he occupied
my thoughts, and nights he was the object of my
dreams. , ,7 '
I-Iis visits became more freqifcrlt, until be de-
Llurcd to the he ‘loved me, and although he was
the object of all my hztppincss" on earth, yet by
the cruel restraints of my parents, (who had pre-
viously dictated me) I did not dare inform hint
that I even pitied his love. ‘ Co,’ said I, ‘ pay
your atldre-.,'ses to some of your own rank, and
learn never again to dare openly avow your love
to a lady ofbirth and fortant-.’ Ile arose to de-
part, while the tears of silent anguish trickled
down his rosy checks. ‘ Madam.’ said he. ‘ the
time is near at linud when you will see me no
more in this patt of the world, where love is only
to be bought with gold. There is but one ob-
ject on earth, which I desire, to make me hap-
py—it is an object which I never can enjoy. I
snall therefore soon go far, far hence, to some
land where you will hear no sigh, no murr_nur,
from me hereafter. 'I'liet'efore, dear, clettrest
Cordelia, farewell-—farewell forever.’ He then
left me to my own reflections. And now I repent-
ed ti.-y rash treatment of one I almost adoted.—-
My parents had so dictated me, and I had obey-
cd them. But it appeared to me that I had had
the-lilysian fields presented and refused to enter,
and thought it was cruel in me to give him such
an answer. I rccollected with whatthopeless and
melancholy looks the poor disappointed youth
had left me, as be thought foreve '; and fancied]
saw him stretched on the earth in the most keen
despair,with his beautiful eyes suffused with tears
rcproaching me as the murderer ofhis rcpose,and
calling for death as his only refuge.
‘ Alas, alas l’ I cried, bursting into a flood of.
tears, ‘this is but a wretched attempt to play the
heroine—already does my resolution fail me-—
0 Edwin! I meant not what I said—-they were
not Cordelia’s own words-—I was swayed by my
cruel parents. I love you, Edwin—love you now,
and must forever love you, though my mothc-_r
may chide, and my cruel father hate me.’ I was
absorbed in these reflections, when my father ‘en-
tered, and sternly said, ‘ Cordelia, let this be the
last time you suffer that indigent pedagogue to
be in your company.’ I answered only by my
looks, which surely indicated as much as‘ pappa,
I cannot obey you, I must see him again.’ Sor-
row now became seated in my bosom. I withdrew
from all the circles of gaity and splendour; I
sought for comfort in the gloomy walks which
the sterile season exhil)ite(l, and often in my wan- ,
rlei'itig-s would I cry, ‘ (_) Edwin ! l2,.dwin 3 would
to God that I could be with you, and at your feet
beg forgiveness.’ ’
Now I had a brother, whose name was Henry,
tr ho had contracter.l a close and sympathetic af-
fection for Edwin. They communicated their
secrets to each other, and secrrzed particularly in-
terested in each other’s welfare. A week had e-
lapsed since I had seen Edwin, when I received
by the hand of Henry the following letter.
, I T---—-.
‘1):m' Cordc’lia—VVhen these sad lines shall
meet your sparkling eyes, then, most lovelyof
women, will the youth who passionately adores
you, be far removed from that much desired and
beautiful, but to me detested place. Ah Corde-
lia l at the first momentl beheld thee my whole
soul was attracted by thee, and never since have I
been able to repel thy image from my troubled
(mast. You may indeed be deafto all the sup-
plicatitig otisons of love, but you will not, you
Cannot be deafto the tender bonds of humanity—-
you will at least pity a passion, which its posses-
sor cannot but Cll(:lISll,Sil1C.(: it was ushered into
his breast for the most lovely of it omen. 0, Cor-
delia, if I thought you would but pit}: me, Icould
etcn die contented. But alas 3 '1 am not the hap-
p_v man, who is destined to ;:.;i\'c you pleasure in
this life ; I will therefore avoid s,-giting _'.'ou pain,
and submit to crucl fate. Aitl‘.-nr.,:‘lt {traverse
every degrcc of ll'7lI‘.—.ti'i \v:‘et«;~l1e(’:ness, atztl vvhat-3
ever may be my f;."£‘, i will thinl-: of thee. I willl
imrnediafely Ll‘-ltl’ the service of my country, and;
should it plea.=e the I):-:pt=xei' of events, to}
.-ive me tltt: cxun=rn::z-.-:i :.:fst,~nv.e war-ship, I will
name I’. Coz'r‘tt*£';'==.~--r.'._',' c.r‘.t'~ntt.rsig1i shall be Cor-‘
rlcli'.«.—-.'1ntl the t'.'e.t' cxy shall he C.ordclia. 'l'ha‘t
name trill lL'I'l(.’-..'l' m-.- in-.ii»cEbtc, uhile it urges
me on to tin: e..-ccunttr. l"are.rt:ll. Corclelia 3 and
may that iuan he 7:i.pp_:~‘, win is blessed wi‘h ag
pl'.tt;t-. in that celt:sti.—zl hz.-.:rt, which was reft:s:.d to
ll‘.c'.l'1it.tj‘i§'i_V ED\VI.\7.’
Ll) it€‘l:.l'[ melted into a plentiful flood of tears.
on .-endings; these sad but touching lines. I tlmught
I hurl ruined the man when: I tenderly loved-—het'
was almut to leave me, and I could never hear‘;
the sweet words, ‘C-ot':lcliu, thou art forgiven,’
frur-_:, l.i~. cur,-‘;amin-,3; lips.
;”»l";' l.w-other iitf:tx:r.(:-4 me, "tat, I".:'.v‘i.'i -.t.~_u.'.’;r‘_
stay at the village of T .. tvtici-éiiic ca!«.'.u‘.ate'-;t
on seeing him the next day, and if I wished, he
w:n.=ld carry a letter to him for mc- I then seiz-
cd n;_' pen and wrote the following letter.
‘ lie-tutu, return, my dear Edwin, and if your
passion is pure, hope for l)ClICl'(.Ic\}'S----l'Lfii\ll'fl,3Il1.l
you sllull be well received by the offending, anx-
ious, and rclenting C0l’\l.)lii.lA.’
I ll‘ctllt.l'.‘LI this to my l)rother, who started ll!)-‘
mcdiately for the tillztge of T And now
what shall I do or even hope for, should I?.dwin
return ? I was well aware, that my parents would
never consent to a union between us. I was ttirlt)
Cct'!;:.iti that should my parents discover that Ed-
win was brought back by my means, I should be
treated by them with the utmost rigor. Filled
with these corroding reflections, I passed my
time in the utmost anguish. I waiketl out line
evening to indulge my grief in solitary tliouyltt.
An hour had not passed, since the sable curjain
of night had hid the sun in the starry we.-st; lul-
titudcs of light clouds, parti.-.lly illtnnined bythe
faint moonbeams, over.~pread the horizon, and
through them floated the full moon in tl'£tIl,]1lll
majesty, All was hushed into a pr-mfound pt-.-.ce.
Not a single zephyr sighed through the blacljs of
grass that emironetl my walk’; but a cou'cn.ling
storm raged in my own breast. V/nth a melan-
choly hcatt did I wander on, I knew not whigher,
and every step was numbered with a sigh. ';‘..ost
in thought, I wandered listless and uncous-c,7ibus
along the dewy path ; and often, while gazing; on
the resplendent constellation, did Idrop atear
for that which I sought-—it was tranquility. * (_)
Edwin,’ exclaimed I, ‘ you know not what len-
durc for you; for you whom I have made wrttch~
ed.’ I paused, and raising my eyes suffused with
tears, beheld a man coming towards me-—il was
Edwin. After a respectful salutation, he lirgatx
to press the subject nearest his heart. ‘ E:;‘;lain
to me,’ said be, ‘what you mean by the '.lord
/m/2.-2, which was written in your letter, fr" on
that lrangs m_v fate forever.’ I endeavored L idis-
guise the matter with friendship, but \vo:~.'l,be-
ti-ayed the secrets of my breast, and I cxclz=med
‘ Edwin, I am thine.’ His r-apt'n'e and 'dL'.ll‘I!I';I{l()l‘n
at this, explained to me more than his fugue
could tell—evinced that his love was p\.Ii_: and
undissembled. \Ve were, for awhile, bola lost
in tenderness and affection. 'I‘ln*ough the’-rhole
course of man’s existence, this time arrivis but
once. Ilappy is he who sighs for its at't‘t.“al-—
happy is he, who, when it arrives, has a son.‘ .‘vor-
thy of its enjoymcnt—-and happy is even is for
whom that moment is long passed, if it [‘:t5S0(l
not uucnjoyed, for the recollection of it ltill
precious. The cruel mandates of my paréits
were entirely forgotten. I was now in the ains
-of the man for whom I had spent so many te ‘s;
for whom I had breathed so many sighs; ‘ho
had occupied so many ofmy thoughts by tlav,pnd
who had been present so many of my dreunlby
night. VVe avowed eternal constancy to v'ch
other, and, ‘ under open sky,’ we in the pres ce
_o.f- the Eternal, united ourselves seemingly or-
ever. . l
night, generally crowd it on Sunday, and the third
ionable part of this theatrical concern in New-
it, and produce an immense annual revenue to the
t room ; and on gala nights, the most accomplish-
The evening being far spent, we parted gith regiment to which Capt. Korfl‘ belonged, arrived
his promise ofmeeting me at my father’s house
shortly. The time soon arrived and he perform-
ed his promise. He came, and after being alone
about two hours, my mother entered the room—-
anger and indignation flashed from her counten-
'ance ; she assumed a look of one of the furies;
and in his presence, forbid my being in his com-
pany. After some altercation, she retired, giv-
ing my lover strict charge never more to enter
her house. He bowed in token of consent, and
said ‘ Madam, far be it from me to be indebted to
you for one moment of pleasure; and whatever
may be your opinion respecting me, still I think
myself superior to such scandalous proceedings,
and the time may arrive when you will look back
with regret on these your base insults towards
one who never harmed you.’ She answered only
o
before the monastery of Figueiras in Spain. The
colonel ofthe regiment, a Frenchman, sent in an-_
officer to demand of the prior the necessary re-
freshment for the men, as well as for the stafI',con-
sisting of about 20 oflicers. The prior with some
of the monks came out to meet the general, assu-
red him that the inhabitants of Figueiras would
provide for the soldiers, but that he himselfwould
provide a frugal meal for the staff. The prinI"s
offer was accepted ; Capt. Korff received from
the general some commissions for the regiment,
and about an hour afterwards it was announcgd
to the prior, that the dinner was served up in the
refectory of thekmonastery. The general, who
was aware that the French in Spain had reason to
be on their guard in eating and drinking what
was offered by the natives, invited the prior to .
with an imperative frown, and left the room. VVe
again promised never to be parted in this world.
and he retired. My mother soon returned, and
after bestowing many a malediction on my head,
she said that should I ever be found in his com-
pany again, I should immediately quit my pa;-en-
tal roof. '
Painful as it is, I must inform the reader that
my mother was a cold, unfeeling misanthrope-....
she was wilful, and when she had once imbibed a
hatred, it became her bosom associate ; she was
illiterate, and totally unacquainted with all sub-
jects of religion; riches was her sole aim, and
her avaricious love for this world, frequently
caused her to overleap every code ‘of rectitude
and truth : and after all, I have reason to believe
she tenderly loved me. My father was a man
who was easily duped by her intrigues, and was
therefore frequently led into the path of deviation
and error. Time passed on, and frequent oppor-
tunities occurred of meetings between Edwin and
myself, by the assistance of Henry and my sister
Emma, whose kindness to me entitles them to
the highest love of a fond bosom, and the warm
effusions ofa grateful heart.
(To be contz'nuca'.)
........
1:'.2::ract.—-lllany women are unfortunately ig-
norant of the state of their husband's income ;
and others are only made acquainted with it,
when some speculative project,or profitable trans-
action, leads them to make a false estimate of
what can be afforded ; and it too often happens
that both parties, far from consulting each other,
squander money in ways that they would even
wish to forget : whereas marriage should be a
state of mutual and perfect confidence, and sim-
ilarity of put'sttit.~s, which would secure that hap-
piress it was intended to bestow.
There are so many valuable women who ex-
ccl as wives, that it is a fair inference there would
be few extravagant ones, were they consulted by
their husbands on subjects that concern the mu-
tual interests ofboth parties. VVithin the knowl-
cdge ofthe)vriter.rmtny families have been redu-
ced to poverty by the wantofopenness in the man
on the subject of his affairs ; and though on these
occasions, the women were blamed, it has after-
wards appeared, that they never were allotted a
voice of inquiry, or suffered to reason upon what
sometimes appeared to them imprudent.
Many families have owed their prosperity full
as much to the propriety of female mangetnent,
as the I-'.ll0\Ylt(lg(: and activity of the father.
---at--:'.:-‘D--
J‘."c-rzv-0r[ea7zs.——Tlie editor of the National Ad-
f-0-'_".'tit‘ 5-=.r;:: that a very splendid theatre has been
built at New-Orleans, which surpasses every oth-
er in the Union. The Bahimore Chronicle, he
says, complains, and justly, that the house is open-
ed on Sabbath evening. This, no doubt, shocks
the feelings of religious people who consecrate
the evening to devotion ; butlit serves to convey
an idea ofa community, mingling with the Amer-
ican people, and controlled by the same national
law, and yet maintaining the most opposite and
contiadictory customs. The admission of Lou-
isiana into the union as a free state, nccessarialy
secured the ititegrity of their municipal laws and
customs; and New-Orlcans,from its mixed Spati-
isb and French population, will command the
saint: laws, and observe the same customs, until a
majority of that population shall be American,
and introduce a better state of things. In France
and Spain, Sunday evening is considered the
most profitable for the theatre ; indeed, after 12
o’clock on Sunday, the period at which mass con-
cludes, the streets of Paris are peculiarly anima-
ted with puppet shows, rope dancers and musi-
ciains; and those whose leisure and means will
not enable them to visit the thettre on any other
tier of boxes is generally appropriated to that nu-
merous class in Paris, called gr-zltcttes or millin-
ers, mantua-makers, and sewing girls ; and in
New-Orleans, the same department is occupied
by the maroous or mulattos. The most object-
Orleans, is the gaming rooms which branch from
proprietor, who is licensed for the purpose. To
make this establishment complete, there is also
attached to this theatre at very magnificent ball-
cd and fashionable of these ladies exhibit their
pumpkin-colored faces to gteat effect, tt'ick’d out
in. all the gaudy hues of the rainbow, bespangled,
bedizeued and besashed—-some of whom, howev-
er, are said to be sensible and well bred, m:-.ugre
their complexions. There is also a very singu-
lar municipal regulation at New-Orleans, which
must be of I\'orman origin, from its still‘ formali-
ty : the mayor of the city is manager of the the-
atre de jure-—hc orders the curtain to rise, for-
fc-its the actors when they are out in their parts,
and sends them forthwith to the city prison ifthey
are in the least refractory.’
Miserable as is the present state of morals and
piety in New-Orleans, there are friends of the
cross in that city, from whose exertions the chris--
tian community have solid grounds ofhope ; they
have indeed entered the camp of the enemy, and
though their numbers are comparatively few, the
time will come when they will demolish his strong
holds, and achieve theivictory.-—C'omz. Jourmzl.
-—--xx-~11:--n--—
1"romt/zc London Literary Gazette ofDec. 14-.
SPANI':3I:I HEROISM.
A-n authentic anecdote, related by Capt. Korff,
who served in Spain, in a regiment of infantry
' of the guard of Jerome, the Ex-King of VVest-
phalia.
Fatigued and exhausted by forced marches, the
cepted the invitation in such a manner as to leave
no doubt that he felt himself much flattered by
it. Afterthe officers had taken their seats, the
prior said grace, carved, eat of every dish first,
and with his two brethren, who poured out the
wine, drank plentifully with his guests It \‘l as
not till towards the end of the repast, that captain
Korfl‘ returned, having been detained by the com-
missions of the general longer than he expected.
During that interval, he had found an opportuni-
ty to take some refreshment, and only parti(ipa-
ted in the lively conversation of the company,
hosts as well as guests, at the monastery. The
general, in particular, expressed his satisfttctinu “-
to the prior, whose kind reception surpassed
all expectation. Suddenly, however, the cheer-
fulness of the prior was changed into profound
seriousness ; he rose from his seat, thanked the ,
company for the honor they had done him, and
concluded.with.aslun.g if any of them had affairs
to settle In this world? adding -with emphasis,
‘ T1115: gentlemen, is the last meal you and I shall
take on earth ; in an hour we shall all be before
the Judgment seat of Got 1’ Cold trembling
horror seized the amazed guests; for the prior
and his two monks had poisoned the wine in
which they had pledged the French officers ; all
the antidotes given by the French phvsician were
in vain ; -in less than an hour every man of them
had cease-cl to live.
.Sz'ngz¢_.’ar .I’2z122'.v;’z721:°7zt.—-‘.A great‘b,ook~is a great
evil,’ said an ancient writer--an axiom which an
unfortunate Russian author felt to h'Q cost.--—
‘ VVliilst I was at Moscow,’ says a pleasant trav-
eller, ‘ a quarto volume was published in favor of
the liberties of the people; a singular subject,
when we consider where the book was prlntctl.
In this work, the iniquitous venality of the pub-
lic functionaries, and even the conduct oftne sov-
ereign, wars scrutinized and censured with great
freedom. Such a book, and in such a country,
naturally attracted general notice, and the cil‘ero-
der was taken into custody. After being tried
in a very summary way. his production was de-
termined to I): a libel, and the writer was con.-
dcmued to eat his own work.»-. The sirgt-laxity
of such a sentence induced me to set: it put in
execution.
A scaffold was erected in one of the
most public streets ofthe city ; the ll‘.lpCl‘I;-.tl pro-
vost, the inagisttates, the physi::iar.s and .-zut-geoxts
of the Czar attended; the book was separated
. -kfrom its binding‘, the margin cut off, and every
leaf rolled up like a lottery ticket, when taken out
of the wheel at Guildhall.
served with them leafby leaf, by the provost, who.
put them into his mouth, to the no small diva.-2'7
Tlie author was then
sion of the spectators ; he was obliged to swal-
low this unpalatable food on pain of the l<nout,in
Russia more dreadful than death. As soon as
the medical gentlemen were of opinion that he
had received into his stomach as much at the
time as was consistent with his safety, the trans.-
gressor was sent back to prison, and the business
resumed the two following days. After three
very hearty but unpleasant meals, I am convinced
by occular proof, that every leaf of the book was
actually 5lV'dIi0“'Cd-'--140726071/:u_‘{l(‘T.
-'€'O%-'~
..»fnccrIote.-——During the late attack ofthe Brit-
ish upon Algiers, a tar, not finding a wad to make
use of in boarding one of the cannon, stripped off
his jacket and rammed it home, withowt empty-
ing his pockets. VVhen the gun went off, he
cxclaimed, ‘ d—n my eyes, Jack I I forgot to
take out my tobacco-box and my knife ;’--disre-
garding the loss of his jacket.
A girl forced by her parents into a disagreea-
ble match with an old man whom she detested,
when the clergyman came to that part of the ser-
vice where the bride is asked if she consents to
take the bridegroom for her husband, said with
great simplicity, ‘ Oh dear, no sir; but you are
the first person who has asked my opinion about
the matter.’
-—$OQ-‘-—
On the 14th inst. a man was brought to the
police office, in New-York, charged with having
passed a forged check on the Union Bank for sev-
en dollars. He admitted the charge; then pres-
ently took off his neck cloth, took a razor from
his pocket and attempted to cut his throat; but
his hand was seized in season to prevent injury.
and he is committed for trial. He has the ap-
pearance of having formerly been ‘:1 respectable
man, and of good education.
S11-’>Sf2'«’1m’_/'01‘ C972’.-—i'l‘he Baltimore Chronicle
mentions, that a merchant in Philadelphia retails
forty bushels of roaster! rye per week, as a substi-
tute for Coffee. The‘Clironicle adds——‘ Rye (‘of-
fee is much used in Baltimore already, and we
have no doubt that the more generally it is known,
the more the substitute will be adopted; and e-
conomy ofthis kind, and at this time, deserves to
be patronized by every patriot’.
Cashmere Shawls, (says the N. Y. Na-tional I
Advocate,) were yesterday sold at auction in this
city as high as three lzzuzdred am! t-wnzty do/[are ."
a piece. VVc note this as a singular commentary
on the. times, and for an article ofmere luxury,
---Ia¢1B¢::-$1---
It is the inward motive, not the outward ap-
pearance, which stamps a value upon our actions.
Many are foulitlactilig under the influence of av-
arice and pride, at the very time they signalize
themselves externally by the most specious con-
duct. "
True honour consists not so much in having
obtained promotion, as having'fdeserved it.
AA» ...:
dine with them : he, and two other monks ac-~
4'4
pg!
Norwalk Chronicler