-......_,_. .
,” I-‘ROM Tm: NA'I‘I0‘NA‘L xn'rr:x.t.roi:Nc::a.
TO THE POLAR STAR. '
Sweet star_o,f night _! that o’er t.he silent sea
Guides the wing’d_trav’leron her lonely.way';
How many gaze, and smile, or weep on thee,
Ofthose that rove not, or of those that stray.
Sweet Star ofuight! I gaze upon thee now-
And thott dost» bring the buried past to light;
'When time had not yet press’d upon my brow,
Nor Disappointment, breath’d her gloomy
blight.
And I could gaze,and lose myselfin thought,
As, in succession, scenes of other years,
O"er which thy beams have sweetly shone,
are brought . (fears——
Back on my soul, with feelings, hopes, and
That swell’d with joy, or agony, my breast,
And troops of friends arise within my mind ;
And hands, also ll that can no more be press’d
Again are press’d-—iu mute affection shrin’d.
Sweet watch- light ofthe pole! to lovers dear—~
VVhere’er they roam, they love and bless
thy ray !
And thou hast witness’d many a sigh and tear,
Front sever’d bosoms, wantl’ring far away.
Sweet star ofnight! thy lovely be-ams'are cast
Far o’er the wave, the forest, and the plain:
Eacli presentgleam seemslovelierthanthe last,
And none can gaze, nor wish to gaze again.
Oh l lovely Star, with ray as pure as thine,
Lighting-,like thee, the azure vanltofheav’n,
The soul immortal shall in glory shine,
Or sink fore’er in shades of'darkest even.
And I have lov’d thy ray—-tho’ sadness swells
My throbbing heart, when niem’ry pictures
o’er
The scenes of far-fled days, and, faithful, tells
Ofhopes and feelings that can blbom no
more:
But yet, whose mem’ry, vampire-like to me,
With balmy wingand soothing zeph_vr’s play,
Drains and consumes, tho’ sweet and tenderly,
Theheart; theheartthat loves thy pensive ray.
And I have luv-’d thy ray that o’er the stream
Shines like a sun-beam path at_gen2lc even;
And I’ve gazed, and dream’d,and in my dreatn
That glitt’ring pathway seem’d the path to
Heaven.
Star ofthe Night! the time is hastening on;
The sod shall blossotn, and the wind shall
rave, (lone,
And thy sweet beamiugs, wand’ring bright and
' Gild the green sward-—the minstrel’:i lowly
grave.
I rnom THE C0l'.U)fBlAN_ RFGISTER.
CHARLES F--———A I-‘ACT.
Every action ofayouug man, entering upon
the scenes of active life, has a direct bearing
upon his future happiness or misery. Remov-
ed frorn the restraints of parental authority,
and placed in circumstances where he can
gratify his darling propensities, he will be pe-
culiarly liable. to adopt such a course of cori-
duct as will destroy his peace and happiness
forever. Though he may leave the paternal
roofwith an elevated tone of moral feeling,
yet he may, in an unguarded hour, listen to the
syren song ofpleasure; and, following the tile-
tntes ofa naturally depraved heart, be allnred
into the paths of vice, and even exchange the
bright hopes ofhis early years for the dark-
ness, doubts, and horrors ofinfidelity ; and his
name awaken no other associations in the
minds ofhis friends, save those ofdegradation
and despair: Or, adhering to virtue and truth
with a firumess‘7of purpose which no tempta-
tions can overcome, he may, through life, rise
higher and higher in the scale ofmoral and
intellectual worth, till he takes a station ele-
vated above the wiles of malice and the in-
trigues ofenvy, and sheds around hismcmory
a savour of excellence which shall thrill the
bosoms of his friends with emotions of pleas-
ure long after he shall have ceased to be.
The choice of friends is another act irreve-
ry man’s lifethat will naturally affect his future
happiness. Friendship is the soul of all our
enjoyments: It is no less able to solace in the
dark hour ofadversity, than to gladileu in the
bright sunshine of prosperity. The experience
of every man testifies that his chief happiness
consists in having a friend to whom he can tell
the joys which swell and the sorrows which
agitate his bosom. But it is a lamentable fact
in the history ofour race, that, behind the fair-‘
est of professions of friendship, often lies cott-
cealed all the bitterness ofan enemy. Here,
then, is a rock on which the inexperienced
youth may ‘dash his future peace‘.—Still more
is his future happiness concerned in the choice
ofa wife. To have a companion, whose dis-
position and feelings perfectly harmonize with
our own, will throw around us a shield imper-
vious to the shifts of adversity, and create a
source of pleasure in our breasts as lasting as
life. But, ‘ as in the fairest bud the eating can-
ker dwells,’ so in matrimony, affection mispla-
ced, willblight the brightest prospects in the
blossom ,
“ Losing‘ its cerdure even in the prime,
And all the jizir ¢,_fi’ecls of future hopes.”
To be united to one we cannot love, mustere-
ate in our breasts, not a pang which, though
sharp at first, is soon ov.-.r-—but a dull, linger-
ing pain, gathering intensity with time,
spreading a destructive mildew on all the soul,
and drying up all its joys.
But one fact is better than a thousand theo-
ries on this subject. I will relate one,in which
an-intimate friend of mine was,,_,pi-incipally
concerned-,and which, as bere'*‘r’elated, may
be relied upon as substantially true.
CHARLES F , the subject of this ar-
ticle, was born in \V , Mass. He was the
son of poor, but pious parents, who spared no
pains to improve his mind in science, and to
instruct him in the fundamental principles of
Christianity. Nor were their efforts in vain,
in his 13th year he made a public profession
of religion, and believed that he felt its pow-
er on his heart. He saw around him intuiti-
tudes ‘ without God, and without hope in the
world,’ and he ardently desired to be instru_—
mental in their conversion. He painted to rise
high in the scale of moral a-nd iiitellecthal ex-
cellence, from which he might come down to
his fellow-men, with {he attractions ofscience
in the one hand, and the llnpes of religion in
(the other, to win them__to Christ. With the
approbation of his parents, _ll&tlBV()Iefl b.im-
self _'to this‘ great object. He joined
College in his nineteenth year, where he was
noless distinguished for his amiable disposi-
tion, and correct department, than for his
high literary attainments. To acquire useful
'.‘I
lt‘n'owle’dge was his great delight ; and by in-
defatigable industry in study, he soon out-
stripped his competitors, and obtained the
highest college honors. On leaving College,
bs was destitute of any property, save intel-
lectual, and, of course, could. not enter inr-
mediately upon his professional studies. To
acquire pecuniary aid, be determined to teach
school iri some ofthe Southern States.
Accordingly,,be left his f'r_i_ends in the Au-
tumn of 1819, and set out upon his journey,
which, to a mind like his, must have been
both interesting and useful. Arrived in N—,
Va. he was taken dangerously sick ofa fever,
which prevailed in that town. So general
was the sickness, that it was with difficulty
persons could be found to attend upon the
sick, much less upon him, ‘it stranger in a
strange land.’ The landlord of the inn in
which be lodged, occasionally attended upon
him, and sometimes the passing traveller.-
’I‘hc prospects of Charles now: became less
and less bright——-his strength was rapidly wast-
ing away—~and he seemed fast approaching
to death. But he was resigned. In his dis-
tress, the God whom he served, did not for-
sake hint: and though the thought of dying
in a strange land, without a Father or a Mo-
ther to mitigate the agonies of death by their
tender S_)_/lllpttlllltis. and prayers, might occa-
sionally cast a gloom over his mind, yet on
the ultole, be enjoyerl inward peace, and could
look without fear at the approach of death.
During the third week of his sickness, a
gentleman and his daughter called at the inn
in which he lay sick ; and wlnle there, she
“not knowing that a sick man was in the house,
passed through his rootu. lie was asleep.-
His countenance exhibited such a picture of
suffering and resignation, as completely to
rivit her attention upon him. ‘ Herc,’ said
she to herself, ‘is perhaps :1 man of worth in
distress—a stranger, without any one to be-
guile his pain by the tender assicluities of
l'ri_endship.’ She found upon inquiry that her
apprehensions were even true. The story of
his sufferings, and his amiable qualities, as re-
lated by the landlord, deeply affcctetl both
the gentleman and his daughter, and deter-
mined them to adopt speedy measures for his
relief. At her request, her father permitted
her to attend upon him, and to provide such
other assistance as his circumstances might
require. Attired in the habit of a servant
maid, she presented herself to Charles, (who
was then awake) and offered such assistance
as lay in her power; which he very thankful-
ly accepted, though with the assurance of his
inaéiility to repay her kindness.
' er attentions to him were nnremitted dur-
ing the three following weeks. She provided
atfcndants for him during the night, but dur-
ing the day, she was almost constantly in his
room, and seemed to anticipate his every
want. Her conduct towards him was invaria-
bly marked with the utmost delicacy and po-
liteness, and the anxious solicitude she felt for
him, stamped upon her countenance
“ That e.rpressi'.on sweet of melancholy,
Which captivates the soul.”
She had learned from him the outlines of
his history; and each successive day strength-
ened her opinion of his worth, and generous
disposition. In short, her sentiments towards
him were those oftrue friendship and respect.
Nor were those of Charles towards her less
respectful. He thought he discovered in her
a more cultivated mind, and easier manners
than are usually to be found in servant maids.
I-ler nnremitted attention to his wants, and
the lively interest she appeared to feel in his
welfare, were, he thought, more than he could
expect, even from his dearest friends. ‘Sure-
ly no motive but disinterested benevolence,’
thought he, ‘ could induce her to attend upon
a sick stranger, one too, from whom she has
no reason to expect any compensation. Then
again how does her countenance manifest her
sympathy in my sufferings. Every pang that
darts through my feeble body, seems to affect
her as if it were her own.
He gradually recovered; and after a con-
finement of six weeks, was able to rise from
his bed, and walk the room. As soon as he
had regained sufficient strength to render her
assistance no longer necessary, she left him
with an invitation to call on her father, resid-
mg in H ,about fifty miles south of N-—.
The little time they had spent together, bad
inspired no ordinary degree ofinterest in each
other. The sick bed awakens none other
than the kinder feelings ofour natures. From
sttch a scene, revenge, hatred, and all the au-
gry passions take their flight, and the kind af-
fections dwell upon the beloved object with a
thrilling interest. Such were the feelings of
Charles and Aurelia, (for this was the name of
his attendant.) They had discovered in each
other a kindred spirit, and they could not but
have those feelings towards each other, which
such a discovery always inspires.
'I‘o a mind unaccustomed to difficulties. the
situation of Charles at this time, must have
been extremely depressing. He had expend-
ed his last dollar, and was deeply in debt to
his landlord and physician; and it was not to
- be expected that they would relinquish their
claims upon him, or any part of them, because
he, was poor, nor that they would wait till he
should be able to meet their demands. To
te_ll his father his situation would be as pain-
ful as it would be useless ; for it would only
barrow up the feelings of his parents, while
they would be unable to afford him the least
relief. The prospect ofimprisonment, there-
fore, stared him full in the face. He deter-
mined notwitltstanding, to confess his situa-
tion to his creditors, and abide the consequen-
ces. To his surprise, he leared that his debts
were already discharged, 'and that be was al-
lowed to remain there, and demand their ser-
vices gratuitously to himself, as long as he
chose. Besides, the landlord gave him a let-
ter containing fifty dollars. ,All his attempts
to ascertain to._ whom he was indebted for all
this generosity, were utterly unavailing.
Having settled his affairs at N , he set
out on hisjourney for H——_-, with a view to
spend a few days in the family of Mr. M ,
the father ofAurelia,which the fatigue oftrav-
elling, and feeble health, would render both
desirable and necessary. He was induced to
this me'asure, not merely by the hope of find-
ing smnetemployment, but also by a desire of
seeing the parents and residence of Attrelia.
‘Some btimble dwelling,’ thought he, as he
passed along,‘may be the residence-of this
fa'mi.ly, but it contains one amiable occupant
atleast.’ It is not strange that upon a heart
so susceptible oftender emotions, and so alive
to excellence wherever seen,as that ofCharles,
the amiablecharacter of Aurelia should have
tnade a deep impression. ‘Though poor in
o
a
worldly goods, she has,’ said he, ‘ a heart rich
in kindness,and in all those virtues which give
such a loveliness to the female character.—
VV‘ill she not be a better companion for me,
than one more wealthy, but less amiable ?—
Should I eyer call her mine, I may be able, ill.
some meastire, to repay her kindness to me,
by making her’ happy.’ .
Full ofthese thoughts, hjerarrived at ,
and inquired for her father’s residence ofa
manwhom he chanced to meet. ‘That is
the house,’ said the stranger, pointing to an
elegant mansion, the appearance of which in-
dicated the wealth and refinement of the oc-
cupant. "There,’ continued he," ‘ dwells one
ofthe best‘ofTmen'; he is liberal without os-
tentation, easy and affable to his equals, kind
and condescending. to his inferiors, and a
blessing to all around him. He has an only
daughter, who inherits all the good qualities
of her father, with the peculiar excellencies of
her sex.’ ‘ Has he not a servant maid, resi-
ding in his family, by the natnc of Aurelia ?’
asked Charles, interupting him. ‘I do not
know’, replied the stranger, ‘that however, is
the name of his daughter.’ The surprise of
Charles was indescribable. That the only
daughter of such a man should attend upon a
sick stranger seemed impossible; ifso,it would
he thought, he a species of benevolence, wor-
thy ofa seraph. He, however, determined to
ascertain in person, whether the maid and the
daughter were identical ; and accordingly
drove up to the house ; but no sooner had he
reached the door, than he was met by Aure-
lia, (who was indeed the daughter,) who re-
ceived him with a countenance that bespoke
the interest she feltin his welfare, and her
pleasure at seeing him; and, after giving him
a cordial welcome, she presented him to her
parents, who received him with equal cordi-
ality. Charles was too full of astonislnnent,
either to express his gratitude for.their kind-
ness, or hardly to appear with decorum ; but
their politeness relieved’ him from all embar-
rassment, and he soon felt himself at home.
‘ It is now time to say something of the fairi-
ily, into which Charles was thus providential-
ly introduced..
[CONCLUSION NEXT WEEK.]
A SLAVE AUCTION.
Errtraclcal from ‘ Remarks during a journey
in .IV'urtIL .«9m.erica,’ by an Eiiglishmun.
* * * But the real plague-spot ofCharles—
ton,(S.C.) is its slave population, and the mix-
ture of gaiety and splendor with misery and
degradation, is too incongruous, not to arrest
the attention even of the superficial. It al-
ways reminded me ofthe delicate pink peach-
blossoms which surround the black hovels of
the slaves on the plamations. ’
I shall never forget my feelings on being
present, for the first time, at a sale ofluunan
flesh, which took place here in a public street
which I was passing the other day. Turning
from a fashionable promenade, enlivened by
gay parties and glittering equipages, I came
suddenly in sight of atleast 80 or 100 negroes
sitting on a large heap ofpaving stones ; some
with most melancholy and disconsolate faces,
and others with an air of vacancy and apathy,
apparently insensiblc to what was passing a-
round them. Several merchants and plant-
ers were walking about, examining the un-
happy creatures who were to be offered for
sale. A poor woman, apparently about 28
years of age, with a child at her breast, her
two little boys from 6 to~8 years old, and her
little girl, about 8, composed the _/irst lot.-
'.[‘hey were mounted on a platform, (with the
auctioneer) taking hold of each other’s hands,
and the little boys looking up at their moth-
er’s face with an air ofcnriosity, as if they
wondered what could make her look so sad.
The mother then spoke a few words in a fal-
tering voice to the auctioneer, who repeated
them aloud, in which she expressed a strong
desire to be purchased by some one who liv-
ed near Charleston, instead of being sent to
a distant plantation. They were then put up
like cattle, with all the ordinary auction slang,
and finally knocked down at850 dollars round.
As soon as they came down from the platform
many ofthe negroes crowded around the mo-
ther, inquiring if she knew who had bought
her, or whither she was going; but alas! all
that she knew of her future destiny was, that
a new owner had obtained possession of her
and her offspring for 350 dollars each. I
could not stay to re: the repetition ofthis hate-
ful process on the person of a field labourer,
who composed the next lot, and who appeared
tlepresspd and dejected beyond what I had
conceived.‘ The melancholy feelings with
which lquitted this scene were not diminished
by {he reflection, that it was my conmry which
first transported the poor African to these west-
ern shores; that it_ was when they were the
shores ofa British colony that slavery was first
introduced b_v,British ships, Britishcapitahand
with the szinction and encouragement of a
British parliament. \Vou|d that I could for-
get that in a single year (1753) no less than
30,000 slaves were introduced into America,
by a htmdred and one vessels belonging to
Liverpool alone ;—-that the efforts of many of
the American states to abolish the importation
of slaves, were long defeated by the royal neg-
ative which was put on those acts of the colo-
nial legisature which had for their sole object
the extinction of- the slave trade; and that
Burke was but too well justified in stating in
parliament, that ‘the refusal of America to
deal any more in the inhuman traffic ofnegro
slaves, was one of the causes of her quarrel
with great Britain !’ VVould that Iicould for-
gettbat if America has still her slave-holding
states, we see Britons have also our slavehold-
ing colonies; and that in neither the one or
the other has one step yet been taken towards
the emancipation, however remote, of the in-
jured African.
Joseph Bonaparte.——'(By a late traveller. )-
In the course of my travels in the U. States, I
arrived at the town ofNashville. There was
acrowd of people collected at the entrance,
where a lztrgewaggon was upset, and several
ofthe passengers severely injured. They were
extricated from the vehicle, and placed in an
empty barn or shed by the road side. A gig
drove- briskly up, from which an elegantly
dressed man alighted, leaving a lady holding
the reins. He pressed through the crowd, and
inquired very anxiously after those that were
hurt. One of them, a lady, had received a
severe contusion on the forehead, and was in-
sensible. The stranger immediately bpund
up her arm with his silk pocket handkerchief,
and taking a. lancer from a pocket knife, bled
her. She soon revived, and was, by his direc-
tion, lifted into the girr. He led the horse on
at a slow pace to the tavern, at about a quarter
of a mile distant, where he had her put to bed,
and properly accommodated. 'I‘he only med-
real man in the town was sent for, who soon
came, and the stranger gave her up to his care.
He inquired after her friends from the drivers
ofthe waggon: all they knew of her was, that
her name was VVilliams, an English actress,
who had appeared on the New York stage,
and she had taken her place from thence to
Nashville. The stranger pulled out his purse
and placing a sum of money in the surgeon’s
hands, desired him to furnish her with every
necessary her situation required ; he then
mounted his gig and drove away. ‘ Pray,
Sir,’ said I to the landlord, ‘ who is that gen-
tleman ?’ ‘ You are a stranger,I guess,’ was
the reply, staring tne rudely in the face. I
did not choose to satisfy his impertinent curi-
osity, and turned away, addressing myself to
a tall genteel looking man,wbom I afterwards
found to be Commodore Hull, of the Ameri-
can navy. Ile politely told tne that it was_‘Mr.
Joseph Bonaparte. He has a house about two
miles from this, where he often resides, for the
sake of hunting and sbootintr. The lady in-
thc carriage with him is his lady. He is ave-
ry bcnvolent man, and does more good in these
parts than all the gentry put together.’ I
thanked him for his information, and feeling
my curiosity roused, I requested the commo-
dore to join me in a bottle of wine, with which
be complied, _and_we sat down in the public
room, where I gathered from him that the Ex-
klllg of Spain, Joseph Bonaparte, has built a
town, called Joseph’s-town, which already has
3,000 inhabitants, chiefly French, who work
in manufactories ofcotton and wool. He has
expended more than l00,000l. on this hobby-
horse. The country rotmd, for several miles,
Is_ his property by purchase, and he is a little
king over the place. The "commodore had
never been there, so only reported this from
hearsay. In his house near Nashville, ‘ Mr.
Joseph Bonaparte’ lives the life of a plain
country gentlernan.-—-L‘nglisIL paper.
CHINESE MERCHANT.
A Chinese Hong merchant, of the name of
Sbai-king-qua,had long known Mr. Anderson,
an English trader, and had large transactions
with him. Mr. Anderson met with heavy
_losses, became insolvent, and at the time of
his failure, owed his Chinese friend upwards
of eighty thousand dollars. Mr. Anderson
wished to collie to England, in the hopes of
bcingable to retrieve his affairs: he called on
the llongmerchant, and in the utmost distress
explained his situation, his wishes, and his
hopes. The Chinese listened with anxious
attention, and having heard his story, thus ad-
dressed him : ‘ My friend Anderson,you have
been very unfortunate; you lose all; I very
sorry ; you go to England; if you tnore for-
tunate there, you come back and pay ; but
that you no forget Chinaman friend, you take
this, and when you look on this, you will re-
member Shai-king-qua.’ In saying these
words, he pulled out a valuable gold watch,
and gave it to Anderson.
Mr. Anderson took leave of his friend, but
he did not live to retrieve his affairs, or to re-
turn to China. \’Vhen the account ofhis death
and of the distress in which he had left his
family, reached Canton, the Hong merchant
called one ofthe gentlemen ofthe factory,who
was about to return to Europe, and addresced
him in the following manner: ‘Poor Mr. An-
derson dead! I am very sorry ; be good man;
he friend—-—and he leave two childs; they
poor—they have nothing——-the childs of my
friend: you take this tothem ; tell them Chi-
naman friend sent it ;’. and he put into the
gentleman’s hand a stint of money for Mr.
Anderson’s children, amounting to several
hundred pounds.—Percy flnecrlotes.
From the .N'ational Intclligencer.
The public will receive with gratulation the
intelligence that the labours of the celebrated
Mutis, of Santa Fe de Bogota, who, (with
Caldas and others,) was put to death by the
Spanish General Morillo, have been preserv-
ed, and are now deposited in the Botanic Gar-
den, at Madrid, in the care of Professor Gas-
en. The plants were collected in all parts of
New Grenada, Venezuela, and the countries
adjacent. The drawings amount to 4000 in
number, executed by the South Americans
chiefly, who draw with great taste and ele-
gance. They were coloured on the spot from
the fresh flowers, and in the Iuost beautiful
style, being brilliant, and unrivalled except
by nature. The coll :i:tion contains hundreds
of plants, before unknown in Europe: among
them, all the varieties of the Chinchona, or
febrifuge-bark. - '
General Morillo putto death the interesting
Mutis, and many others, whose labours were.
in no respect, connected with the revolution;
but he thought they were dangerous men, be-
cause lhcy could read and -write. The draw-
ings were packed up in cases, which it was
supposed Murillo had destroyed, but be sent
them off to Spain. The descriptions ofthe
plants still remain in the country, and it is
hoped that the labours_of several ingenious
and scientific characters, in which they had
been engaged for forty years, are thus pre-
served to the world.
Peaxms’ STEAM ENGINE.
The London Journal of Arts has the fol-
lowing notice ofthe new invention ofour coun-
tryman, Mr. Perkins, who is now in London :
‘ There has been no invention or discovery
in the arts for many years, which has excited
so much public attention and spcculativeopin-
ion, as the improvements on steam engines a-
bout to be introduced by Mr. Perkins. We
hoped to have been able in our present num-
ber to state the results of actual experiment,
but the construction and completion ofa steam
engine is not the work of a day. To say the
truth, we are surprised at the progress made
in the short space of'a few weeks ; being en-
abled from our own Knowledge to state_ that
the engine is nearly in a working condition,
and probably before this meets the eye of our
rcaders,willhave been actuallyputinoperation.
This engine, construclel to demonstrate
the new principle, is intended to exert a pow-
er equal to ten horses; its generator (in place
ofa boiler) holds about 8 gallons; the work-
iug cylinder is only I8 inches. The parts have
been proved by hydraulic pressure to bear a
force equal to two thousand pounds upon the
square inch ; a weak part has been subse-
quently introduced, which shall give ‘vi it)! at
one thousand pounds pressure, the engine ne-
iug intended to be worked by steam raised to
seven hundred.
(In our last we mentioned that a letter had
been rec'd from Mr. P. stating that the engine
was completed,and answered his expectations.
Rev. Jlfr. ‘}f"ard and his Colleagues.-—For
the benefitcf opposers of Missions we publish
the following paragraphs, for which are in-
debte_d to the Religious Intelligenccr and Co-
lumbtan Star. Having given an account of
the Serarnpore College,—its vast importance,
its present situation, and future prospects, the
editor of the Intelligencer remarks :—-‘ We
doubt not that all who read it highly appre;
Baptist missionaries, Carey, M-arshnian, and
\Vard, who may be considered as the benefac-
tors of Intlia. No one acquainted with the
sacrifices they have tnade for the benefit of
this College, would cast any impntations up-
on them for desiring that others should share
with them in so benevolent a work. The ed-
itors ofthe Nat. Intelligeucer, however, who
appear not to have :recovered frotn their cha-
grin, at the success of Mr. VVard in this coun-
"‘.)'a but who can give the details ofa great
horse-race with the utmost s:nisf'action, make
the following remarks respecting the College:
fTbis is a partoftbc establishment ofar7chi-
episcopal magnificence, which our charitable
fellow citizens were helping to build, when
they spared their hard-earned dollars, dimes,
and even cents, to save the wretched heathen,
who they were told were pcrislling for lack
ofknowledge; and it was accidental inform-
ation ofthe nature ofthis establishment which
induced us to question the propriety of such
an investment of money.’
Now, it is well known that the rnonev col.
leclcd by Mr. Ward, in the United States, was’
vested in this country, under the direction of
trustees residing here, and the interest is re-
mitted to India, not to assist in the erection of
buildings, but to educate native converts in
Hindostan, for missionaries among their C0lll‘l-
trymen. The object is a good one; and we
may hope will be attended with the happiest
effect. The men who established the College
acted wisely in determining to have buildings
sufficiently spacious and durable. Let it he
remembered they erect the buildings at their
own expense. The editors ofthe Nat. Intelli-
gencer might as well censure St. Paul for
dwelling in. his own hired hoitse, as these men
for building a College with their own money.’
The editor ofthe Columhian Star observes :
" The College has been built at the expense
ofthe missionaries themselves, who have con-
tributed to this obj: ct about 540,000, the pro-
ceeds of Dr. Care.y’s labours as a Professor in
the College of Port W'illiam ; ofDr. Ward’s
services in the printing establishment: and of
Dr. and Mrs. Marshman’s school. The col-
lege premises were purchased with funds rais-
ed in India. No imposition, therefore has
been attempted on the public. The sums col-
lected will be faithfully appropriated to the
object for which_ they were solicffi,-’d_ The
The magnificence ofthe establishment has no
connexion with the subject. Messrs. Carey,
Marshman, and Ward,have the same right as
any other individuals, to employ their own
funds as they please. ,.The public have no oth-
er inquiry tomake, than this, whether or not
their contributions have been scrupulously em-
ployed for the proper object. To this inquiry
a satisfactory answer will always be given.
PRUNXNG FRUIT 'I‘[fEES.
Many farmers have been in the habit of .
pruning their fruit trees in February 8?. March, -’
but this is wrong. ‘In March the sap is re-
tained in the roots,and the bark adheres close-
ly to the wood; consequently, the wounds oc-
casioned by the amputation ofbranches being
exposed to cold, peneti'atitig winds and frosts,
before the circulation of the sap, become dry, .
rotten and cankered, and often crack open
near to the main trunk. In old orchards'par-
ticulurly if litnbs of any considerable size are
lopped off, several inches from the trunk, be-
fore the sap is in active rnotion,tbe fresh bark
round the wood becomes dry; large cavities
are formed, which rapidly extend towards the
trunk and heart, and the tree is soon deprived
of health and vigor. VVe have the clearest
indications that the sap commences its circu-
lation about the 10th ofApril. From this pe-
riod to about the last of May,whether the buds
are just opening or the blossoms fully expand-
ed, the pruning should be accomplished.’—-
The Hon.Mr.Pickering likewise says, that his
‘ practice has been to prune in the spring, be-
ginning when thebuds have scarcely begun
to swell, and ending before the expansion of
the leaves.’ Mr.Forsyth,likewise, in his trea-
tise on fruit-trees, says, ‘I have a great dis-
like to autumnal pruning, but in the spring,
when the sap is beginning to follow the knife,
the lips will quickly grow.’
It is said that water in which potatoes have
been boiled will protect cabbages, turnips and
vines, from the ravage of flies and bugs.
WOOL CARDING, 8z.c. ‘
HE subscriber respectfully informs his
friends and the public in general, that he
has, at greatexpense, re-built his Factory, and
replenished it with new Machinery ofa’ supe-
rtor quality, and is now ready to receive Hat-
Wool for Carding, and Cloth for Dressing-
likewise, Wool to Card into Rolls. ’
He returns his thanks to his friends for the
assistance they have afforded him in re-build-
ing his establishment, as well as’ for their past
patronage, a continuation of‘ which be solicits
from them. All orders in his line of business
thankfully received and faithfully executed.
*,,* To H./9TTERS.——'I‘he subscriber has
:1 superior Machine which was built in Danbu-
ry on purpose for Carding Hat-Wool; and
l-I-utters can now have their Wool broke in a
superior manner, and free from grease.
SAMUEL Dxvrznroaw.
Norwalk, April 14, 1823. 7
NEW AND CHEAP GOODS.‘
HE subscribers are now receiving and o-
peniug an extensive assortment ofDr_i/-
Goods, Groceries, .l-Iard- Ware, -0. of which
the following comprise a part. viz.
One case ofCanton Crapes ‘(assorted colors)
A variety of British.India, 3:. Domestic Goods.
One Crate ofBlue printed Liverpool Ware
One Box of 50 dozen enamelled China Tea-
Cups and Saucers. One Box Tumblers
_Liltewise, a general assortment of Paints,
Paint-Brushes, and Oils.
The above Articles are but a small part of
the assortment. all of which will be sold as
cheap as can be purchasetl at any other‘ store
in the conntry.,. Frscn bu Bnvsu.
Greenwich, April ‘ll. I823. 8 ‘
TPHE GR.AVE.—Just published‘and for
GRAVE, by Robert Blair, an eminentScoIclt
Divitie--Price I8 Cc.-:.'s.*
ciated the liberali_ty of the three distinguished ,
sale at this Ofiice, a Poem entitled the ,'4 '
it".
I.
A1),
I!
.z'
Norwalk Chronicler