AC“, -9 .g cell. .....u might’st be; ..... tube, and I cannot weep; I waited with joy to guard thy infancy, Now all I hope for, is unbroken sleep. Thou wast my first, my last, my only child, How happy was I, having only thee; '-Th‘; u-gacheroug f-d\r‘0i!', l'!:rJl’C.lcl'€(I 'dS If smiled, I could ltavewislfd for more--unconscious me! I beg thy pardon--’rwas the flush of shame,_ That, mantling o'er this froz:-tr cheek ofmtnc, Call'd forth the accents of unwilling blame-- Thou ltast my pardon, daughter. give me thine. Come, let me blesstbee, with my last, last kiss ; . These cold. cold lips inhaled thy infant brtzatlt ; They hailed thee virtuous, with exraric bliss, They bless thee fallen. in the pangs of death. . -gI2$}@3«-'- ‘N FROM 1-3:; r~te:u"n lttumucnx Rnvintv. A ltEFLElJ'l'It)N. -‘ I've seen the dark ship proudly braving, Vtfitlr high sail set--and streamers waving, The tempest rear and battle pride ; I've seen those floating strettmtrs shrinking- The high soil rent—-the proud strip sinking, Beneath the ocean tide ; And heard the seamen farewell singing. His body on the dark st-r. lying-— His death prayer to the wind. But sadder sight the eye can know, Tltan proud bark lost, or st-aman’s woe-— Or battle fire and tempest clou(‘.—- Or prey bit-d’s shriek and ocean's shroud- T/zc ,«‘-I_/.~7t»rr-c/< Q/‘r/in 1l'7/-ml. T nu-_.—.—— A- :-.-..=-: 7 FROM THE EMPORIUM. Tl-;=E CAl-‘Tl\"lj‘. BOY. A_ll‘,who are cr_rn\'t:r'sarrt with the early history of our country will recollect, that our frontier set- tlements were, many years ago, belbt'_e the power of this aborigines was broken and subtitled, fre- quently laid waste arrdtlesolatt-, by the incursions of the Indians, who, not -co'n:r;ent with pillaging; and destroying wlratever property laid in their way. marked their footsreps with blood, and made captives of all whom glutted ven gcnnce or cap- rice induced them to spare. It ltappenetl in one of these incursions that a young man by the name of Bird, with his wife child, an infant boy ofabotrt_sr.~; months old. ‘were made pl'lSOl‘l:'l'S. 'lhe quantity of plunder in possession of. the savages making the assist- ance of the unfortunate. parents irnportanit, their lives were spared lor the sole purpose of assisting in carrying it off; they were shown their hut‘:‘lens, and directed to follow. The motlrer, knozring; the fate which, in these cir'crtrrrstanccs awaited her infant, should it be discovered, contrived to (zone eal it from her inhuman captors, anti having’ wrapped it_.up.in lrcrxburden close to her brea_st journeytd_:b_v the side of herhusband, towards the wild-;a;‘=rm'*‘ ; sorrowing no doubt, but invok- ing th; ,,;'o-.cr~.tion ofHim whose Almigltty arm can succeur the most unlortutrat_e, and deliver in the greatest peril. After travelling from sunrise until late at night, through a long summer’s day, the party arrived at an Indian village, and, the captives being secur- ed, the Indians threw themselves on the ground, and were soon asleep; but, it may well be sup- posed that Bird and his t-rile, even alter so mucir fatigue felt little ClISpO.‘SIlIbIl to close their eyes. How they might escape occupictl, alone, their tltoughts ;'tho:-.y matured their plan and put it in execution ; but to avoid r_ecapture reqttireu even more xietlztnce and resolution than itrequir'cd in- genuity and strength to free themselves from the cords that bound them. They however set out, and. wi-.h their helpless babe, which, as by a nrintcle they had still suc- ceeded in preserving unnoticed, began, at mid night to retrace their steps. But berote day. fa tigue, anxiety, and the want of nourislrnreirrt so completely cxhttusted them both, that they lourrd this dilemma placed btfore tht:m——the child must be left in the wilderness or rheyjmust remain and perish with it. The morning was already streak- ing the east with grey, and they knew that their flight must have been alre-.tdy discovered ;_ they knew, too, the characters they had to deal with, and that to escape there was not a moment's time to be lost. Distracted with opposing resolutions, a sense ofduty to themselves finally prevailed 0- ver the paren.t’s fondness, the mother for‘ the last time prcs5'c(l her innocent offspring to her breast, bedewcd its unconsciously smiling check with tears, and sat it down on the green bank ofa lit- tle ttinkling rill, to perish, where, as she cast alast angvislted look, after she lta(l.,i.eft it, she saw it .§,‘r _ l.in.g Afttff ".‘.~:-.3 flowers tlzt.-"= grew around it. ' 1 he father‘ and mother escaped to the settle- .mt:nts, and Mr. Bird speedily collected a hug. party of his neighbours and returned to where the child had been left; but trwas gone, and, in the lapse of years, blest with riches and a tmmerous progeny, the parents, ceased to weep over their lost boy. - Fifteen summers had smiled upon the harvests, when, in a treaty with a distant tribe of Indians, an article of which bound them to deliver up any captives that might be in their po. -. -'-sion, ‘a boy was put into the charge of the conrrni.~.sioner's on the part of the whites, with a declaration that he was a white, found in irrfatrcy upon the very spot where young Bird had been left. He was sent to his parents who immediately recognized him by a remarkable scar on his right hand, which he had received in his father's house. The measure of the parent’s joy was full, the boy wandered through the rich possessions ofhis father without a smile-— llrs bow and blanket were his only joy--He despised alike the dress, the -habits, and the luxuries that were preferred him--and his tnind constantly bl-coded over 11,: forest scenes, and sports in which he had passed his boyhood. Vain were all the attempts to wean him from his native habits—and as vain the cf- forts to oblrtc rate the recollection of his adopted r it his mind ; wlrfle persuasion and indul- ere, alone, resorted to, he modestly re- , but when force was tried. and he was com- ; to change his blanket for the garments of .tzed life, and his favourite bow for a book, he .:w sullenly discontented ; and at last was mis .ng in his fathers house, and seen the same eve- ning. arrayed in the Indian garb, crossing a dis- tant mountain, and bending his way towards the setting sun. It was upwards of twenty years after this event, that Mr. Bird and his wile, now advanced in years, removed to it new settlement, where Mr. Bird, had purchased a tract ofland, at a great distance from their former resitlence; and while a more commodious building was erecting, they inhabi- ted a small but, adjacent to a thick wood. One day when the old lady was left alone, the men of the neighborhood having gone to ‘a distance of some miles to assist at at raising; she saw from her door several armed and painted Indians ap- proaching hcr. Alarmed but resolute, she seized a ltatcltet, and, ascending a ladder into the loftof the dwelling, drew it up after her. and determin- ed to defend herself to the last. The savages en- tered and finding their efforts to entice her down in vain. laid down their rifles and prepared to as- cend after her. But the firsthand that was thrust through the trap door was severed from the at m, at a single blow by the intrepid heroine, and an alarm being; taken at the moment, that the whites 'were coming, the Indians retreated and disap- peared in the woods instantly ; while, almost at the same moment Mr. Bird and his party came in si_,;ht. _ But scarcely had the deliverers of her life ap- proachcd, before Mrs. Bird’s eye caught sight of the severed hand, and lo! there appeared before her the scarred right hand ofher eldest son. Such is the story ofthe Captive Buy; and from it Idraw the inference that it is /zabit that endears the savage to his wiles; that teaches him to love his own pursuits-and to delight in blood and treachery ; and that between the natural passions, affections, and dispositions of men there is no (lif- ference, except such as is created by education and custom. ‘ 40005-- THE EVILS or EDUCATION. -, The following humorous satire on the illiberal l)l‘rjU(llCCS of ignorant men against the diffusion and encourzrgcutent of learning, is from a S'..Lou- is paper: To the Honorable General Assembly ofthe state of Missouri, the petition of the undersigned respectfully sheweth : That your petitioner, a citizen of this state,and having its interests much at lrcart, finds himself, in common with others, deeply a_s.;grieved, and compelled to resort to your honorable bodies for redress. . Your petitioner is most thoroughly persuaded that the honor of the state, and the happiness of its citizens, are staked on the decision?-that may be had in you-r deliberate wisdom on the subject matter of his petition ; and therefore most hu_nr- bly implores that an car may be inclined to hear, and an arm extended to remove,the evils and truis- ances of which he complains, in the spccdiest and" mosteflicacious manner. '.' lrtis well known to your lronorable bodies, that the-re';ar'e some among us who praise knowledge, and are endeavoring to exhaustthe treasury, and torment the rising generation by the establish- ment and support of schools. God forbid that a- ny countenatrce should be shown, by he law-mrn kcrs of the land, to the cxecrablc purpose of teaclring youth, till they despise their fathers for the lack of this same kizottrledge. Your petition- ver humbly submits the following reasons to your legislative consideration, hoping‘ that they may have their due weight in exploding the new-fun- glad notions of modern ages, on the subject of learning and improvement. l. Knowledge is a source of -mura/rion.-~‘ He that increaseth knowledge increasetb trouble,’ saitlr the wise man. Our grarrd-fatlrer Adam liv- ed in happiness, till, to acquire knowletlge, he are of the forbidden tree, and ruined ltimselfand his race. Doctors and Lawyers are the excres- ence, the fungi, nf knowledge ; and what is worse than the taking of pills. and the unravelling ofthe lahyrinths of the law ? The acquisition of knowl- edge injures the Constitution. weakens the body, .-Jrortens life. fills the mind with crotchets, light- ens your purse, and converts your fat, good natu- red, jolly man, into a lean, pcdantic scare-croiw, that always talks by rule. VVlta'. is there more troublesome and degrading in this free Country, than to be subjected to the caprice and the rod of a pedagogu: 3 To be called in from the streets and the prairies, from seeing the light, and breath- ing the pure air of heaven, to the dull monotony ofa school-room. the eternal contemplation of some rascally spelling~book, and grammar. 2. Knowlc-dgé renders 2:3 z'n.9cc1u'c in our /21 o/zcrty rzrla‘/z‘c"rsg3z..s‘.—My neighbor knows more than I, ther'efore'iIte cheats and abuses me. If we were on the saute level of ignorance, neither could have ‘an advantage over the other. The sltamt-.l'trl art of reading and writing has ruined thousands, w ho have not themselves been possessed of it. \Vbat are all these artificial rules, and distinctions, and laws of civilized society, but the offspring of ac- fttrrsed knowledge and improvement ?—--They are so rr.,_.._, -it-..ps,4"’r.:~t“~ and gins, entangling and catching us whichever way we turn ; and the learned at'e like so many spiders, sitting on their Webs» Purposing to profit by the misfortunes of the poor w retclr who should heedlessly be caught by their fine spurt devices. 3. 1t’no=w[edg: is degrading.-—In acquiring it, we are under the necessity of relinquishing our freedom ; and wh;-n we get it, we are converted from honest men into krraves. l-low much more noble and dignified is it to be above the petty de- tatls of science ; and to support the clraracter of the lords of the creation. by despising all control. Your learned man is a mere artificial being. He has lost the real char‘ttclt:r' of his species, being a compound of the tug-ends, scraps. fragments and habits of all who have gone before him. His body is a kind of substratum, in which meet to- gcther the conflicting absurdities of the whole world. His soul if he has any, is like an old lum- ber-case, filled with the cast-oi? clothes ofconfu. ctus,Artstor.le,and other black-guards ofantiquity. 4. Kzzowiezlge is cxjlcnszve.——I'ieavt:n only knows what will sums of money are annually laid on lions. some lor¢l’s son may learn the fooleries of a col- lege. So far is this infatuation advanced, that nothing can now be done, without paying for thej knowledge which folly deems necessary to its ac- complishment. Your honorable bodies know that we, your constituents, do actually pay you indi- vidually for the superior knowledge which you. are wickedly and nefariously supposed to possess. 5. Knowledge is mz'scry.—May the curse light on all who first invented the delusion, and the tor- menting pcrplextties of all science besiege the brain of him who shall undertake to defend it.-— Your petitioner, in common with other good and worthy citizens, is at this moment, writhing un- der the agonies ofknowledgc. They know that the times are hard, that money is scarce, that loan-office paper is no more like money, than a poor starvelling singed cat, is like unto a full grown ‘ ring tail panther ;’ and they do most humbly beg, that this knowledge may. be speed- ily removed from them- Your petitioner craves leave to refer your hon- orable bodies to the Osages, Slrawness, the Pot- towatamies, the Flat Heatls, and other tribes of our red brethren, to illustrate and enforce the course ofreasoning which he has pursued. Be- hold in what happy ignorance of the endless per’- plexities of our vile institutions, they spend rlltelri days, troubled by no birchen rods in boyl‘tood.If no sharp corner of the law, no innumerable pro- visions of statutes in the business of"the middle age, and driven to a premature death by no fail- ures of banks, and fluctuations of trade. Your petitioner desires that the wisdom_ol' the legislature may be shown in the prohibition of all that tends to increase the evils and perplexi- ties with which he is surrounded ; and that schools may be forbidden by statute, pcdagogues kicked out of the state, and boys turned loose to sport in the prairies, as is lit and becoming among the wise men ofthe great state of Missouri-- and your petitioner will ever pray, &c. Ionommus. -»ogQQ«« rnom THE nosron GAZF/l"I‘E 1'lfessr.r. Editors.-—Ycstcrday afternoon I wit- nessed one of the nrost interesting scenes I ever beheld. I had rnacle a call on President Amtms and while there, we were most agreeably enter- tained by a visit from Mt‘. Weld, who is it pre- ccptor in the asylum for the deaf and dumb at Hartford, attended by one ofltis pupils, Master George H. Luring ofBostotr, a young gentleman of about fourteen years of age, who brought a re- commendation from Jttdge Davis. After Mr. VVeld and his pupil had exhibited some extraordinary specimens of their facility in communicating their ideas, Mr. Vlleld read to the President a fable which had been composed by Master Luring. This produced some remarks relative to fables, which induced the President to relate an anecdote of Dr. Franklin, viz. The Doc- tor was in company with some of his literary friends, in London, when the subject of fables was the topic of conversation. It seemed to be the general sentiment that the subjecrwas exhausted. Thc Doctor was appealed to for his opinion, who said, that he thought quite otherwise, and that there was still a rich fund on which future Illsopes might delight and instruct mankind. Lord Spen- Cc-I‘ asked him to give them a specimen of his powers in that science. The dispute between C reat Britain and her American coioniesbrtd been under discussion ; when in allusion to that sub- ject. be fabricated the following fable, which tnay be considered prophetic as to the result of that cc-ntrovel‘s_v : ‘ An eagle scaling; round a farmer's barn, spied in the yard a flare, and darting down upon him, seized him in his claws, and mottnted with him hi_:;lr in the air. But he soon found that the ani- mal had clasped his body with her fore paws, to the great interruption of his wings : and had gras- ped his legs with tier hind paws, so that he could with (liflicttlty pt'cscr\e his balance in the air; and what was worse, she had seized his throat with her jaws; and above all, he found that he had mistaken a Cat for a bare! The eagle says to the cat, * let go your hold and I will release you.’ ‘ Oh l no,’ said the cat, ‘ you brought me up here against my will, and I have no notion of falling from this height to dash myselflo pieces. You must .s-too , and set me down.’ The Pl'C'.':I(lLI'lI l't‘(]tleSlt'(l the Tutor to commu- nicate this fable to his pupil, who should after- wards inscribe it on paper. While the Tutor was making the necessary signs, one hardly knew which most to admire, the graceful attitudes of the body, and expressive movements in the coun- tcnancc of the Tutor, or the intensity of thought and eager intelligent attention of the pupil. It was truly delightful to behold the effects of the story, on the physiugomy ofthe latter, particu- larly that portion where we supposed the tutor was communicating the attack upon the eagle's throat he seemed to shudder with horror, but when he came to that passage, where the cat in- sisred on being carried down in safety—-the smile of complacency was seen playing‘ on his cheek. The following is a translation, (ifl may so call it)of the fable which Master Luring promptly per-lbrnrcd, in the presence of the company then present, in a fair handsome and legible hand wri- ting. It is copied vcrbatum et lircra-rum. ‘ An eagle was hovering over a barn yard. It perceived at white hare there and caught it, soar- ing in the air. But in its soaring; in the air it was surprised the animal which it caught was not the bare, but the cat. The eagle said to the cut, slacken your hold on my neck. The cat said to the eagle I will not finish to hold your neck for why have you car-tied me in the air ? You must humbly carry rm: down therefore you will be free from my hold.’ To say that we were astonished, and delighted expresses but little of the ardour and warmth of our feelings on rhisinter-csting tccasion; and if envy ofthe rich, were atany time excusable, it would have been at that moment when we were contemplating the sufzreme satisfactiarz those sons of aflluetrce must enjoy, who are the founders and supporters of an institution which brings forth the powers ofthe human mind, in beings who would otherwise exist only in ignorance and stu- pidity. . age ./1Good Fmdcr -—One day, when Dumont a tradesman ofthe Rtre St. Denis was walking in the Boulevard St. Antoine with a friend, he offer‘- for this worse than useless drug in the older na- ed to lay a wager with the latter, that if he were '1 he peasant is ground in the dust, that -to hide a six ltvre piece in the dust, his dog would discover and bring it to him. The wager was accepted, and the piece of money secreted, after being carefully marked. When the two had pro- ceeded some distance from the spot, M. Dumont called to his, dog that he had lost something, and ordered him to seek it.-—Caniche immediately turned back, and his master and his companion pursued their walk to the Rue St. Denis. Mean- time, a traveller, who happened to be just then returning in a small chaise from Vinccnties per- ceived the piece, which his horses had kicked from its hiding place; he alghted, took it up, and drove to his inn, in the Rue-aux-Chonx. Can- iche hadjust reached the spot, in search of the lost piece, when the stranger picked it up. He followed the chaise. went into the inn, and stuck close to the traveller. Having scented out the coin which he had been ordered to bring back in the pocket of the latter, he leaped up incessantly at and about him. The traveller supposing him to be some dog that had been lost or left behind by his master, regarded his different movements as marks of fondness, and as the animal was hand- some, he determined to keep him. He gave him a good supper, and on retiring to bed, took him with him to his chamber. No sooner had he pulled offhis breaches, than they were siezed by the dog, the ownerconceiting that he wanted to play with them. took them away. The ani- mal began to bark at the door, v. biclt the travel- ler opened, under the idea that he wanted to go ‘ out; Caniclre snatched up the hreeches, and tr- way be flew. The traveller posted after him with his night cap on, and literally, sans culatics. Anxiety for the fate of a purse full of gold Napo. lcons of forty francs each. which was in one of the pockets, gave redoubled velocity to his steps. Caniche ran full speed to his master’s house, where the stranger arrived a moment afterw-.u'ds hreatltless and énraged He accused the dog of robbing him. ‘ Sir,’ said the master‘ my dog is a -‘cry faithful creature, and ifhe run away with your‘ breeches, it is because you have money in them which does not belong to you.’ The trav- eller became still more exasperated. ‘ Compose yourself, sir,’ rejoined the other, smiling, 6 with. out doubt, there is in your purse a six livre piece- with such and such marks, which you have pick- ed up in the Boulevard St. Antoine which I threw there 'with the firm conviction that my dog would bring sit back again. This is the cause ofthe rob- bery which he has committed upon you.’ The strango,r’s rage now yielded to astonishment ; he delivcrtgd the six livre piece to the owrrer, and could tr.-tt for-bear caressing the dog which had given l; so much uneasiness, and such an un- pleasan, ‘chase. Percy Anecdotes-. -c-99¢!» PULPIT ELOQUENCEo Close Q/‘on addr: as to -Sumirzy Sc/tools, by the Rev. T/Iognas Rufiles, of Liverfzool, England. ‘ Can we estimate the value of a single immor- tal soul, a dtratltlcss being? By what standard will you calculate it? Conceive every atom in the composition ofthe universe a gem. Could you make the calculation as many times as there are atoms and “zcll us the mighty sum, it would fail,- litcrally and truly it would fail, to convey to us a- ny adequateyidea ofthe value and importance of at single soul! for when all this wealth was expend- ed in the pursuit of happiness, the spirit would be still in the dawn and infancy of its existence, panting for felicity it could not purchase. Will you then attempt the calculation, and tell usthc amount 3 Before you pronounce the mighty sum -—pausc. Have you considered the duration of eternity 3 If 3 on have not, I adjure you pondcrit well, ere you ft.-rm your estimate of the work.‘ The abyss at u hose brink we Sllu(l(.l€ r: and the o- ce-an in whose immensity we are confounded ; may be fa-lromed and defined--but eternity I what adventurer ever stretched his pinions abroad on that abyss. and returned to the shore oftitnc with tidings of the opposite coast ? "fis a gulf that has no bottom ; an ocean whose rude billotvs ever roll, and never find a stand. Myriads ofmyriads of ages, heaped up till fancy fails and numbers are exhausted, lcate the boundless waste of dura- tion unexplored. They have deducted not an at- om frorn eternity.—Yes, these myriads, that spir- it whuse worth you are to calculate, must inherit, whilst each, as it rolls, adds to its capacity ol'hap- pincss or woe, till its sense of felicity or pain is ex- quisite as the periods of its duration are eternal. ‘ Before you form your estimate. look up to Heaven. See the mighty preparation making there for its reception. VVh-at realms of bliss for the immortal spirit to explore and possess. \'Vhat. golden streets through which to walk ; palaces in which to dwell ; what streams of celestial pleas- ure of which to drink ! and with what cro'.vns—of costly gents to be adorned ! Hark I It is the song of the redeemed. To him that loved us. and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and has made us kings and priests unto God and his Fa- ther; to him be the glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen. Then they strike their gold-. en harps, and pour the sera phic strains again. ‘ Before you form your estimate. look down in- to hell. Look through its dungeons of despair, behold its magazines of wrath. and see its instru- ments of vengeance play.—Sirrg-le out a solitary victim, and listen to his agonizcd complaints- tbesc chains forever ! these fiends forever ! this gnawing worm forever! and then he shrieks, ' whilst a thousand demons starting from their caves, replyfcrevcr.’ Vxnrua.--To the young, it is necessary ; to the aged, comfortable ; to the poor, serviceable ; to the rich, an ornament; to the fortunate, an honor ; to the unfortunate, a support; the slave she enobles, and the noble she cxalts ; she teach -9 es usto be religious, without superstition ; just without rigour ; rnerciful without pat-tiality 3 cautious without fear ; valiant without rashness ; and great without pride. Is it possible to see her, without loving her? Is it possible to love her‘, without being happy ? In short—— . Vz'rzuc’s the friend of t'z')’i:, the soul qf /1661315 The floor man’s conrf'~urt,urzd the rich I710?!’-9 W304”- Bcautzful .1l‘Ic~gory.——l-Ilppiness and virtue are [wins which can never‘ be divided. They are both born and flourish, or sicken and die togeth- er. They are joint offsprings of good sense and innocence--and while they continue under the guidance of such pitl‘t_'lttS, they are int ultter:.bls' to decay.
Norwalk Chronicler