__ ,,___-,,..,....
‘,-_‘_-,. ., .,. ,.' , .(.,. -.,..r. - _. _,v “-
Lg;
iritotu true coi'\‘M-:c'rtcu.'r iitiaitoit.
'DR'E’.-‘il.‘tI. ,
I stretch’dfm‘e* on at _piillet,»ari'dJI,slept. 3
I‘tho’t some-gentlelforcehad l‘al.~'r’(I§j,1lC high =
Iu:air,=ai-id wrap: me in agorgeous-tcloud——~
Add on we sail’d, through the clear licavciis,~.
'dll.(I‘0,El‘ . ~. .. [Willi] :
'I‘he bills and vales ofearih, Thevsweet south.
Blewsgeutly as we floated, trt'ng’d with stars, .
And lighted up with mooubeams. (_).bow cairn,
I-low-soft,.‘liow sweets bow lieauti‘ful.[_ 'I'!‘p,:2]ti
si ’ IIILI . ll’!
The riiilil voluptuous «western breeze, that
Like music, thin’ the tretubliiigdrops -wliicb
spar|"Ll _ , . [N()l‘[ll
Tlie-nebulous cave. ._fU1<I then the ft'csli’ning
Uatiie like .3 ivelcotii’d str:tnger—.~tirriug up
The dozing energies that wtapt me round,
Till the cloud iaugh’d with joy; undspread its
, folds '
To all theglorious gust. ‘Twas but a gust,
And all subsided on an Eastern wind ,
That drench’d,condensing evcryspriglitly play
Of tlte.clourl’s edges gmarring every note
That trembled through it, paralytsnig all
Tiiat gave it boyancy-——and settlnig down
On the cold eartli, to soak and join ‘the gross
And heggarly cleinents frotn WillCll‘lI5,Dl‘Llll".
But I-a-woke; the veering ‘cloud lelt me .
To tliink,tlrat*wbcn the pleasures $2 the pains,
The fairy hopes and dull varieties,
Tlieli-_';lits:and shadows oftliis fitful world,
Should alldepart as (hey did in my dream,
I should aivalte in ea'l‘l)f:.\'t. Thou ‘who liold’st
The wild winds in thy fist, art just and true,
Holy and mer'ciful—aud when I wake,
May I iitvukc in Tliec.
rrtomi Tim BALTIMORE 1>.A.'t‘iiio'i‘-.
THE P.RIN’I‘EI{’S I’R.-XYER. .
Db Ithou Great Head of earth and heaven ;
VVho dust the bowling -ieiripestride,
Thy will the holy rule, hast given :-'-
Be thou the pritjter’s friendly guide.
TVhen eve thy ozz’irelboo.’r expands,
He sees in stai,'_r_ijlcllers bright,
The wb;-I.-, oftliyetcrual hands:
Great sovereign ofctherial light.
\\’itli lieaven’s effulgetit l]}]7!.’ S€l‘£‘m‘3
The beanteons rainbow stlieeiing ray,
Inzpri-at upon his soul the scene
That opens in celestial day.
And when this eartlily int)tiltlei'iiigfo1'ni-
ls loclc’1l in tleatli’s cold icy clrasc:
Oh l save his spirit frotn the storm
Tlizit ht'irls the vicious from thy face.
And oh! when the last trtiinp shall sound,
And hid the sltiiiiliei'ing.dtist arise ;
.Ma_v he he in the coluimis lhtiiid,
Thai form the pages of the skies.
K_.._..
Fr-ton '1‘IIE-E3I1‘OIliUM'. , _
OBS ERVATO B_.——B_y 0r':‘m- Or//lvcoorl,
“ Dori.-‘ ll"'i't'lz'(z7ii ll"ic.’.'s I -wish lltul you
r'f’bulcl.rlo as t)lI't('I‘])L'(.'].-'lc do-”
I must delay the (:t)ll(:lllSlOn oftlie story of
Horatio, and tlieniinute oftlie third meeting
of the Tippany Censorship, 2: week or two, to
give place to the following rough epistie,\vliicli
-I fotind under my window the other day, with
the mark ‘in great liaste’—upon it. As it is
\‘.‘lll‘.f)|l[€t,(lfll-8, it is impossible to determine
how longit remained there before it came in-
to my haiids. Possibly the writer may have
taken my neglect as intentional and determin-
.ed to endure to the end ofthe cliapter the e-
vils it seems to have coinuienced with, rather
than make another effort to procure advice.—
Having explained the cause of the delay, let
us attend to the letter. '
To ‘Oli-rcr 0riI.‘w'cmI, ‘Esq.
Sir——After liaving long been a-mcniber of
your respectable fraternity of Baclielors. I
scarcely ltnow whether to consider myself‘ as
having pectili:-tr cl:-rims on yoitr frir.-nrlsliip, or
its coming under your tlisplez.-sure, inasniucli
as by some _odd calciilations, I detcrniincd to
_slip the noose and run fairly out oftliat state
at single blessedncss, (which your neiglihors
tell me you so nitich enjoy,)sonic nine months
ago. Trusting, ll0w(‘.t'(’.r,_l0 your liberality, I
crave your attention whilel lay before you a
list oftlie grievances under which I labor.
‘The first twelve years of my life, after Ics-
caped from the clutches ofniy old master, I
spent in the industrious pursuit of money. I
labored hard at my trade: spent little in coni-
parison with my neighbors, and at the end of
that period I had scraped together the round
sum oftlirec thousand dollars. This I dispo-
sed ofin such a manner, as that it produced
me ll little more than two liundt"cd a year.-
Noiv I cnncltitlcd Iliad arrived at-the climax
ofall my wishes. I.made a close calculation
and found the sum was siifiicient to support
me,-without another stroke of labour. Iai-
.way5 had a wonderful itching after the life of
agentleinati, and came iinmcdiately to the
hold resolve that I would sell my old shop,
buy a gun, take boardinz, and spend all my
remaining years, which I hoped«would~ be tita-
.1iy, iuease and amusetn-cut. _ V ,
'l‘lie plan was put in o:'tccutio‘n, forlalways
act promptly. My neighbors laughed a little
atthc comical idea of a blacltsmitli turned:
.gentlenian.; andI must confessI felt rather‘
awkward in my new shoes for a while; btit I
.gradtiziily ztccottfltioflnl-"tl myself to the indo-
lent life that had zippezirerl so-beautiful in the
,prospect,and succeeded in inventing suflicient
ways and means of killing time. Generally
I rose at 8, eat my breal.'fast._ and then amus-
ed mysclf with my gun or fishing line until
noon-—di’nncr and an afternoon nap made way
with a considerable part ofthe afternoon-I
then w.al.ked to the post-office, about a mile,
_got my paper, and found sufficient employ in
reading it until night. ’I‘he eveuiur: was oc-
cupied in conversation, for the farmers, who
were too busy to read, came itcgtilzirly to hear
the news of me in the evening.
In the course oft-iglit years, this mode of
life became so familiar to me, that I hogan to
enjoy myself,but,,as the poet hath said-orsung,
“ Sutanjinds some 7ni'sc}i.2'q./ still
“ For idle hands-to do”-
And I fell one night in the way of a flying
‘damsel ofsoine twenty five or thirty years,
f_roin one ofthe greatest cities on the coast.—
Learning that I was an independent single
gentleman she fell,I suppose, in love with me,
for she kept herselfin my way, and whei'i,stis-
pectiug she had some dangerous design a‘-
- gains! my sweet liberty, I 'all'ronted her. I
found the witch had so ‘spell bound me that I
lied to make tip with liar, and at" last actually
suffered myselfto be liumdruunned into a
promise ofmarriage.‘
...._...-..
wood, but there was at least a mixture ofpru-
deuce-with my folly. ‘The lady had about a
-thousand dollars of her own’, and we 'culculat-
ed on ‘being able still’ to live snugand inde-
pendent on our intcre'st, wliich, conjoiued,did
not come much short ofthre'e"hundred per an-
num. "SI-re was to e_conOmis'e ‘down to the last
penny. We were fo live in a snug cottage,
and I was not to be obliged" to ;abridge any of
my amusements, or cliaifge, materially, my
mode of life. Upoti ’ the closest review I
could not help -acknowledging ' that the bach-
elor’s life was one oftfittlicr too nnich solitude
and that it had the- effect of making the heart
cold and s‘elfish, and was estranged from
the delightful feelings which, thought, imist
arise from the exercise oftlie social affections
of otir nature. _
Thus bcfooled and liootlwinked I was led
like a lamb to the altar, and like a man criter-
ing society, gave tip a portion ofmy liberty,
for the preservation of the rest. Things work-
ed smooth enough for a while, but I found too
.~:oo’n that my loving spouse had come to my
betlznnl lioaid with an invincible determina-
tion to ‘do as other people do’——to aid lier,in
which resolve she had a tnost fluent delivery,
antl‘a head piece, against the powers of which
I felt soon my inability to stand up with honor
or credit. She would not argue me-she
would maintain her purpose, and her word
once spoken, thoughit amounted to the tak-
ing ofmy coat from my back, was, like" the
law of the Medcs and Persians, imcltaiigeable.
I Her economy, fair as she proniisctl was
bounded exactly by her neighbors’ rttie, she
must do as they did. Her friends in town all
had ti.-re carpets and a sideboard. These
things she could by no means dispense with—-
but why ? was ti '.l‘ur.l-tey carpet more comfor-
table than a domestic one ? was a sideboard
more convenient than a closet ? No; butwe
must do as other people do. Our neighbors
geiicrally kept a couple of servants, for they
were fat living farmers and had large families.
My good woman must have the sanie-why?
could not one little girl do our work ? was not
two servants more pest than profit where there
was not -work for one ? this might be, it was
admitted, but, we iirilsl do as other people do.
‘Strange it may scent neither my wife nor
iny~..clfwere fond of swectmeats btit she as-
certained that Mrs. Spinster, and Mrs. Good-
lttck, always put tip sonic dozen jars oftlicni,
and my lady soon bought several bushels of
pcaclies, pears and plumbs; the best ofstigar
must now be had, but \\ by go to this expense?
why because, was still the answer. we must do
as ol/cc." people do. She never went out with-
out discovering sotncthing other people had,
and she had not—slte never returned without
some new demand on my poor purse. It was
still the knock down argument, we must do
as other people a'o—and in despair I have at
lastgiv:-n up to the rule ofthe spoiler.
We have been married nine months ; and
my gun has gone to the auction; my last dol-
laroflinterest money went yesterday, andl
have given my notes for sortie hundreds into
tlie_ bargain. Seeing rtiin staring inein the
litce, I have just ordered a set of tools, and
shall be knocked down to the anvil from next.
week, for life, and all this because oftlie pre-
valence ofextravarvaiice around me ; and this
cursed spirit ofimitation. What shall I do F
I ask again——wbat I. shall do?
Your perplexed friend. .
Really I see so many difliculties in this case
that I know notwliat to say. I sliotild like to
have some advice on the subject myself. Let
us consider it.
/.
._.._. /
SCENE AT 1'11}: READING or A1}r'J-hf.
As the tanner’s widow waxed/sickly and in-
firm, she became an C<l_1_l_l(-‘.-ln"g/ object for Mrs
Doldrum, an inhabitant ofLeighton Buzzard
one nftliose human schrcecli owls who prowl
about the abtirles of misery and death, croak-
ing out dismal tidings, and hovering over corp-
ses. She seemed only happy when surroun-
dcd by wretchedness, and her undertaker-like
mind appeared to live upon death. lVhcn
she could not treat herself with a disolution,
she would look about her for a broken log, a
bankruptcy, a fainily where there was a dis-
lionourcd daughter, a runaway son, or any ca-
lamity she could by good fortune discover.-
‘ O my dear friend," she exclaimed to -Mrs.
Pitmau, a short time before her death, ‘I am
so delighted to see yoti, (here a groan)-—you
know my regard for you, (another groan)-
sceing your bed room shutters closed, I took
it for granted ir'w;is all over with you, so I
came in just to close your eyes and lay
out yotir body. Delighted tofind you alive,
(groan the tliird,)—let us be of good cheer
perhaps you may yet linger out a week longer
though it would be a (great release ifit would
please ‘God totake you,—(groao the fourth)—-
‘and yet'I fear you are sadly prepared for the
next world. [Groan the fifth and longest.]—
Yoii know my regard for you. The Lord be
good unto us! Hark ! is that the death watch?
I certaiiily heard a ticking.’
This consolatory personage was all alive the
moment she heard of Mrs. Pitman’s death-—
wliicli occured shortly after; and she was ob-
viously in her proper element when superin-
tending the closing of window shutters, and
all the minute arrangements adopted on such
motirnful occasions. At her own particular
request, she wasindulged with_the privilege
ofsetting tip with the body the first night, and
would not even resign her station on the sec-
ond, which was the time appointed for the rea-
ding ofthe will. Frank Millington had been
sent for express to‘ attend this melancholy cer-
emony; Mr. Stripes and Mr.- Currie were of
course, present, in deep mourning, with a -vis-
age to match, and each with a white pocket
.haudkercliiefto hide the tears which he fear-
ed he would be unable to shed. Mr. Drawl,
the attorney, held the portcntions document-
in his hand, bristling‘ with seals; and two
or three friends were requested to attend as
witnesses.’ The slow and precise man oflaw
who shared none of his auditors’ impatience,
was five minutes in‘ picking the locks of the
seals, as many more in arranging his specta-
ales, and having deliberately blown his nose,
through which he always talked, (as if to clear
the way,) he‘ at length began his lecture. As
the will, at the old lady’s request, had been
made as short and simple as possible, he had
succeeded in squeezing it into six large skins
of pztrcliment,whicli we shall take the libeny
.of crushing into as many lines. After a few
uniniporta,nt legacies to‘ servants and others, it
is stafed the whole residue of her property,
personal and .real, consisting of—————,here
a formidable scliedtile of houses, farms, mes-
suagcs, tenements, buildings, appurtenances,
stocks, bonds, moneys, and possessions, occu-
-4.4.-’ "
I“s'eeyr')ti. laugli at my simplicity, flak-I
sfrikiiig in, they increase to a large trunk, and
soft, and ofa lively green ;the fruit is a small
:
pying ‘t'w_en_iy rpjotiitas, inrecital, was beiquea-,
thed to ‘her dear‘-_cousin_,' Samuel Swipes, of
the ‘Pond-street .B’rewe’ry, and Christoplier
Currie, of the 'I\tIai‘ket-7[3la‘ce, S:'icller‘—-'- '
Here Mr. Drawl laid:”do\v'n‘his tparchment,
drew his ‘breath, blew his nose, and ‘began to
wipe his’ sp‘e'ctacles,.in '\ltllll:l1.Sp,2tce of time Mr.
Swipes was delivered ofa palpable and incon-
testiblc snivel, in the getting up whereof ‘he
was mainly assisisted ‘by a previous cold ; and
endeavouring to enact a sob, whicl-i,'liowever,
sounded ‘more like gargling his tlrroat,~ be e-
jaculate —‘ Generous creature! \vortliy wo-
man! kind soul I , '
Mr. Currie, who thought it-safer to be si-
lently overcome by his feelings,buried his face
in his liandkerchief, whence he finall_v emerg-
ed with indisputably red anti watery eyes,
though it is upon record that he had been no-
ticed that morning grnbbing about the onion
bed in his own garden, and had been seen to
stoop down and pick something up. They
were both, with an ill-concealed triumph, be-
gining to express to Frank their regret tliatlte
had not beennamcd, and to inform him that
they could (lispense with his farther attend-
ance, when i'vIr._Drawl, with his calm nasal
twang, cried out, ‘Pray gentlemen, keep your
seats——I have not done yet g.’ and resuming the
parchment and his posture, thus proceeded:
‘ Let me sce——where was I ? Aye, Samuel
SWI})(.‘S of1’ond-street Brewery, and Christo-
pher Currie, of the Market place, Sadler’——-
and then raising his voice to adapt it to the
large German text words that came next, he
sang ()l1l,—"IN TRUST, forlhe sole and exclu-
site use and benefit oftnydear nephew, Frank
{‘vIillingron, when he shall have attaitied the
age oftwentyfive years"; by which time I hope
willso far have reforinedlhis evil habits as that
he may safely be entrusted with the large for-
tone which I hereby bequeath to him.
‘ What’s all this?’ exclainied Mr. Stripes-
You don’t ln8.’t|)'lll2l[ we're hunibuggetl ? In
trust? How does that appear! Where is AI. ?’
Mr. Drawl, depositing his spectacles, looking
up at the ceiling, and scratcliiog the under
part ofhis chin,pointed to the two fatal words
whicli towered conspicuously among the mul-
titude of their compzmions; and the brewer’s
nctlierjaw gradually fell down, till it crumb-
led and canshed the frillofhis shirt. Mr.Cur-
rie with a pale face and goggle eyes, stood
staring at his co-trustee, not exactly undel-
standing what it all meant, though he saw by
his countenance that there was some sudden
extinction of their liopcs. As the will was
dated several years back, Frank only wanted
three weeks of the stipulated period of pesses-
sion, and as he hastily revolved in his mind all
the annoyances he had occasioned his aunt,
and the kind generosity with which she had
treated him, his eyes remained fixed on the
carpet, "and the tears fell fast on the backs of
his crossed liauids.—.l1onlltl_t/ Magazine.
From Cla2'.’c’s ‘ ll"onder’s of the World.’
-The Bunion, or Burr Tree, is considered
one of the most curious and beautiful ofna-
ture’s productions in the genial climate of In-
dia, where shc sports with the greatest profu-
sion and variety. Every tree is in itself a
grove, and sortie of them,are ofan amazing
size, asthey are continually increasing, and,
contrary to most other animal and vegetable
productions, seem to be exempted from de-
cay: for every branch from the main body
throws out its own roots, at first in small ten-
der fibres, several yards from the ground,
wliicli continually grow thicker: until by a
gra,dtral descent, they reach its surface; where
become a parent tree, throwing -out new
branches from the top. These in time sits-
pend their roots, and, receiving nourishment
from the earth, swell into trunks, and shoot
forth other branches ; thus continuing in a
state of progression so long as the first parent
ofthein all supplies her sustenance.
A banian tree with many trunks, forms the
most beautiful walks,vistas, and cool recesses,
that can be imagined. The leaves are large,
fig, when ripe of a bright scarlet ; affording
sustenance to monkt‘-ys, squirrels, peacocks,
and birds of various kinds,wltich dwell among
the braiiclies.
The l'Iindoos' are peculiarly fond of this
tree ; they consider its long duration, its’ out-
stretching arms," and oversliatlowing benefi-
cence, as emblem: of the Deity, and almost
pay it divine honors. The Brahmius, who
thus “ find a fame in every sacred grove,”
spend much oftlteir time in religious solitude
under the shade of the hanian-tree ; they plain
it near the tlewals, or Hindoo temples, impro-
perly called pagados; and in these villages
where there is not any structure for public
worship, they place an image under one of
these trees, and tliercperform a morning and
evening sacrifice.
These are the trees under which a sect of
naked philosopliers, called Gymnosopliists, as-
sembled in Arrian’s days; and this historian
ofancient Greece, it is observed by Forbes, in
his Oriental i\Ietnoirs, affords a trtiepicture
ofthe inoderuflindoos. ‘ In wintcrthe Gym-
nosopliists enjoy the benefit of the sun’s rays
in the open air; and in summer, when the
heat. becomes excessive, they pass their time
in cool and moist places, under large trees ;
which according to the accounts ofNcarclius,
cover a circuniforence offive acres, and ex-
tend their branclics so far, that ten thousand
men caireasily find shelter under them.
On the banks ofthe Narbudda,‘«in the pro-
vincc ofG-uzzeret, is a banian tree, stipposed
by sortie persons to be the one desci"ibed by
Nearchus, and certainly not inferior to it. It
is distinguislicd by the name ofCubbeer Burr,
which was given to it in honour ofa famous
saint. -Higli floods have, at various times,
swept away a considerable part oftliis extra-
ordinary tree; but what stillremainsis nearly
two thousand feet in circturiferenee, measured
round the principle stems; the over-banging
branclies, not yet struck down, cover a much
larger space ; and tinder it grow a numberof
custard apple, and other fruit trees. The
large trunks of this single tree amount to 350,
and the smaller ones exceed 3000: each of
of these is constantly sending forth branches
and hanging roots, to form other trimks, and
become the parents of a future progeny.
“ Tlteg/1n.a1'r_y and are givmt in marriage.”
In looking over our budgets ofnewspapcrs,
some hundreds of marriage notices come no-
deronr eye, evidencing that the fabled blind
boy is not less busy in our regions than he was
in the old antedeluvian clirnes. What a world
of pleasant thoughts these notices bring to
miud—s'weet snniiy days ufhope and evening
courtsliips, and love ditties and songs, and sto-
len kisses, and the whole train ofhriglit at-,
tendants on the young dreaming (lays ofbut
half enjoyed affection, with the little shades of
jealousy and disappointment which come to
mallow the, scene and hasten the ripening
harvest. Then the trembling promise—tlie
cautious concealment, and the careful and
gradual disclo’sure-—th_c scor'esofinvitations—
the smoking ‘table, loaded with turkics and
ducks and pound cake—thc round faced par-
son-—and the half blushing halfsmiling bride,
Wlio lliinlrs herself cera ,weel of,
'1 '9 be ‘wood and m‘ar7"ied and u’. -
The printer has-but poor picking out ofthe
most sensitive fancy, and can feast on these
ideal dainties till his stomach is satisfled.—?
We have sometimes thought that the printer
ought to be invited to the wedding suppcr,but
then, as it might involve the matter ofpolltics
perhaps it is best as it is.——Emporium.
DRA1\IA'fXC AN£cno'1‘E.-—'I‘he late Mrs.
Jonson possessed a heart susceptible of the
most tender and linmane emotions ;-and these
were called into instant action the least
approach of misery and distress. During her
short stay at Chester, where she had been per-
forming, her waslier-woman, with three small
children, was, by a merciless creditor, thrown
into prison. A small debt of-30 shillings had
been worked up, in a short time, into a bill of
eight pounds. As soon as Mrs. Jordon heard
of the circtttnstaitces, she sent for the attorney
paid his demand, and with as much severity
as her good-natured countenance could as-
sume, said, ‘ You lawyers are certainly infer-
nal spirits sent on earth, to make poor mortals
miserable.’ The attorney, however pocketed
the affront, and, with a low bow, made his ¢-.x'u_
On the afternoon of the saute day, the poor
woman was liberated. As Mrs. Jordon, with
liar servant, was taking her usual walk on the
Chester Walls, the widow with her children
followed her ; and just as she had taken shel-
ter from a shower of rain in a kind of porch,
dropped on her knees, and, with much great-
ful emotion, exclaimed, ‘God forever bless
you, Madam! you have saved me and my
family from ruin.’ The cliildrcn, beboldina
their inothcr’s tears, added, by their cries t3
the affecting scene, which a sensitive mind
could not behold without strong feelings of
sympathy. The natural liveliness of ‘Mrs.
'ordon’s disposition was._ not easily damped
by sorrowful scenes. However, though she
always strove to hide it, the tears of feel-
ing stole down her cheek, and stooping to kiss
the children,'.~he slipped a pound note into the
mothcr’s hand, and in her usual playful irrati-
iier, replied, ‘There, there, now it’s all over:
go, good woman ;—God bless yoti—don’t say
another word.’ The grateful creature would
have replied ; but this good female Samaritan
insisted on her silence and departure. ‘
It so happened that another person had, ta-
ken shelter under the porch, and witnessed
the \\’ll(."IC of this interesting scene, who as
soon as Mrs. Jordon observed him, came for-
ward, and liolyling out his hand, he exclaimed
with a deep sigh, ‘ Lady, pardon the freedom
of a st|'u|)ge|‘,lJll(\VOulLI to the Lord the world
were all like thee.’ The figure of this man
bespoke his calling; his countenance was pale
and a suit of sable, rather the worse for wear,
covered his tail and spare person. The pene-
trating cye of Thalia’s favorite soon develop-
ed his cliaracler and profession, and with her
woutetl good humour, retreating a few paces,
she replied, ‘No, I won’t shake hands with
you.’ ‘ ljlliy?’ ‘ Because you are a metho-
dist preal_':l,ier, and when you know who I am,
yoti’ll sendline to the devil.’ ‘The Lord for-
bid : I am as you say,a preacher ofthe gospe‘,
which tells usto clothe the naked, feed the
hungry, and relieve the distressed-—and do
you think I can behold a sister cheerfully 0-
beying the commands of my great Master,
without feeling that spiritual attachment, that
leads me to break through worldly customs.
atid offer you the hand of friendship and
brotherly love?’ ‘Well, well, yoit are a good
old soul, I dare say ;lint—a——I don't like fan-
atics ;—antl you’i. not like inc when I tell yoti
who I am.’ I hope I shall.’ Well then I tell
yoti I am a player ;—’--—(the preaclier sighed)-—
‘ycs 1 ani u plaser; you must have heard of
—Mrs. Jordon is my name.’ After at short
pause, he again trxtetirletl his hand, and with a
complacent (‘.()lllll.6llul)Ct‘, he replied, ‘The
Lord bless thee, whoever thou art, his good-
ness is unlimited ; he has bestowed upon thee
a large portion ofhis spirit ; and as to thy call-
ing, if thy soul llpl)|'alLI the not, the Lord for-
bid that I should.’
Thus reconciled, and the rain having aba-
ted, they left the porch together: the offer of
his aim was acccptctl,:nnl the female Roscius
of Comedy, and the melancholy disciple of
John Wesley, proceeded arm in arm, to‘ the
door of Mrs. Jlordon’s dwelling. At parting,
the preacher shook hands with her, saying,
‘Fare tlieewcll, sister; I know not what the
principles of thy calling may be: thou art the
first I ever conversed with ;but iftheirJ.ienev-
olent practice equals thine, I hope and trust,
at the great day, the Lord will say to-each-—,
“ Thy sins are forgiven t.‘ice-"’
A traveller having put up at a county tav-
ern, where a iiutiiber offarmers had collected
and hearing tliem_ tell several ‘tough stories’
about their cattle, sheep, &'.c. be begged leave
to offer a short story. A neighbor of his hav-
ing a sickly sheep, turned him out to‘ pasture
with perfect indifference; brought liuii in at
the fall, fed him altentively for a w|iilc———‘and
how much tallow do you think the sheep had ?"
"I‘en pounds,’ says one; ‘fourteen,’ says a-
nothor ; ‘twenty,’ says a third,7_-till they had
all become impatient to knon7"tlie weight of
tallow in the extraordinary sheep—when one
asked ‘ bow nitich fallow did he have?’ ‘I
don’t know,’ replied the stranger, but [guess
not much.’
In a village lived a very-honest wealthy far-
mcr, who, having a number of hirelings hoe-
ing in a field, went one day, about eleven 0’-
cldck, to see ltow his work went on. Finding
one of them sitting still, he reproved him for
his idleness. The man answered, I thirst for
the Spirit. Grog, you mean says the farmer;
but if the Good Book. teaches you to tliirst af-
ter the spirit, it says also, Hoe! every one that
thirstetli. '
Fontenelle lived to be nearly one hundred
years old. A lady, of near equal age, said to
him one day, in a large company, ‘ Monsieur,
you and I stay here so long that -I have a no-
tion death has forgotten its 1’ ‘Speak as sqflly
.as you can, l\.Iadam,’- replied Foiatcnelle, ‘ lest
you remind him ofus.’
dish, itis true, unless, like ourselves, he has a-
lioo‘ ‘ -holy iguonancc—-ti beautiful eredulity
—a o‘ t of sanctity tliatone cannot C0nl8m‘_'{
plate without something of the reverential
ings ofa celestial nature. ',I-‘he impress oftlie
divin’e"nature is, as it were, fresh oirthe infant
spirit—l‘rc:-sli, and unsullicd by _contact with
this withering world. One trembles lest. ‘an
impure breath sliould dim the clearness ofits-.
bright iuirror. And how perpetually must
chiltlhood, of sttidying the characters of little
cliildrcn,’feel and repeat to‘ their own hearts,
“ Of suclris the kingdom ofheaven !” Aye,
whicli of us, ofthe wisest among us, n‘l"ay not
stdop to receive instruction and rebuke from
the character ofa little child ? which ofus, by
cornparison with its sublime simplicity, has \
not reason to blusli for the liuleness, tlre_in-
‘sincerity, the worldliness, the degeneracy of
his own ? s
Bl~JAU'1‘ll-‘UL BX’1‘RAC'I'.
It is a beautiful trait in the religion of tlill
Bible, that it is foimded upon truth, it is sup-
ported by simplicity, and is altogether inde-3
petulant of human gr’-andeur, altogether at ‘va'-‘,
riance with human pride. In the history of
the patriarclis, we are presented with a picturfl
on a people, who as yet know little of the »re_-'
finements ofsociety, at once striking,-inipress-.
ire and deeply interesting ;_whether we con-
sider Abrahatu as calling with confidence-on
the Most High in a strange land ; or as walk-
ing abroad to tut.-dilate at cventide; or Jacob
when in the language of the.apostle,'he wor-
sliiped, leaning upon the top of his staff; we ‘
aroequully impressed with the beauty of that
religion which is thus seen to flourish, not a-
mong the most polished,.but the most simple;
not the most powerful, but the most obedient;
not the most leartied, but the most -faithful of
mankind. Titus we are taught to believe, that
however pomp and splendour may seem to
add to_'tlie effect ofrcligion,or however impo-
sing the coloring which they throw around it,
yet, as its object is to unite man with the Cre-
ator, it cannot be assisted by lnnnan'power ; it
needs notthe aid of adventitious circumstan-
ccs. It is not amidst the ciowrl of assembled
multitudes, nor ‘ in temples made with hands,’
that its effects are only to be felt.‘ lie who‘
pauses amid the labors ofthe day, or contem-
plates the beautiesi of n'ature at early dawn,-or
goetli intotlic fieldsto meditate at eventida,
or witlnlacob,w-orsliips leaning upon the topof
his st'.iff——may rloubtlessfeel with -itsfoll force
the influence oftlie spirit ofdevotion. It was,
thus that the holy uieu of old were taught to
trustin_ that Being, whose attributes are.dis-
played in all his works;it’is thus that pious
‘men iti every age, l1zive‘leariied to bow in deep
‘huniility, and with solemn reverence, before‘
him ‘"who'hath created tlielieavens, and the
work of who'se fingers‘ the stars" are ;’ and ilzis
thus that in our minds may be inculcatetl les-
sons of piety, and ofunmurmuring obedience,
that we may be taught to look upon the evils
of this life as necessary preparatives to «eter-
nity, and every event as subservient to the ho-
ly purpose of :1 Being whose mercy ctitlurcth
forever.
We may thus in youth be preserved amid
temptation; and in old age be enabled to look
back with peace on our past lives, and with pi-'
ous and greatful devotion, worship like the
patriarcli, leaning upon the top of his staff.
“' Trust ye not in a‘-friend, put ye not confi-
dence in at guide ; keep the doors of thy
mouth frotn her that lieth in thy bosom.
For the son dishonoretli the father, the
daughter riseth tip against ‘her mother, the
duttgliter—in-law against her mother-in-law;
a man’s enemies are the men of his own
house. Therefore I will look unto the Lord;
I will wait for the God ofiny salvation :-my
God will hear me.-” .-‘l1i'ca'li, vii, 5, 7. ’
The world of mankind have been justly
compared to a shambles-—to a scene of butch-'
cry, blood and slaughter I There is no safety
in man, under the dominion oftlie passion for
fame, conquest, or riches. He‘ has an object
in view exclusively for himself, and considers
all men as his competitors ; and in proportiop
as they are likelyto be successful, his ene-
mies. The cruel wars and intestine commo-
tions which have convulsed nations, and arm-
ed brother against brother, until every social .
principle was destroyed, and humanity itself
buried beneath the ruins which insatiable
power has generated ; to say nothing of the
countless numbers of wretched expetlieiitsf
which are resorted to, and prove prolific nur-
series oflniman wretcliedncss,prove,incontes-
tably,tlie truth ofthe declaration ofthe proph-
et. There is no situation exempt from dan-
ger ;no condition, whicli will pcsent barriers
to the war of conflicting passions, .wliicb, like‘
a deluge, swet-ps,witli a besom of destruction,
life, property, and reputation, in a moment ;.
and ‘like the baseless f.'tbricofa vision-,lea-ves
not a wreck behind.’ ' V
‘ This world,’ said an eloqtientwriter, ‘may
seem a paradise to fools, but it, an hospital
to the wise; ‘a world, in which a bare escape
is a prime felicity.’ Experience, in propor-
tion as it arms the, recipient_witli knowledge,
divests him ofmany oftlioseiple':-isiug visions,
where hope and desire clieated the willing
mind with unreal objects, a gd fancy, busy in
future schemes, begtiiled, ingleliglitful antici-
pations, the present hour of"j_lialt' its sorrows.
Exper.iciice—-Wliat is it ? ’Tis but a record of
human aggressions.—"Tis.a schedule of all
the varieties ofhuman crime-.-—A. clir.oiiologi-
cal table,wliere virtue is huddled into obscuri-
ty, and vice located with pedantic ~precis-
ion!
\Vhere is the man, whose frail ‘bar-lc has
loosened her fastenings, and half-seas over,
has encountered the galcs and qnicksands’
which betide his course, who would not glad-
ly barter his wisdom for the quiet ofu.nlect_ur-
ed, inexperienced confidence? Can the casu-
a|t.y ofto-day inspire confidence to-tnorrow»?
Will the treachery oftlie present moment.des-
troy future suspicion? Never ! In this ocean»
of doubt~and suspense, this chaos of trouble
and tmcertainty, t-here is no compass.to.guide_
—no friendly beacon, to warn the mariner of
sunken rocks, or the storms which await him,
no haven of safety, where his frail -bark can
refit, and, with renewed strength, buffet, with
certainty, the teinpostttotis sea of lnmian ex-
istence—sav-e one I That, is the chart of_Hea--
ven—--the compass, pointed with the finger of
Omnipotence! ‘Therefore, I will look IMHO
the Lord; I will wait for the God ofmy sal-
vation : my God will hear me .”. r
(Gospel H ertz.-'41.
.i,L'nuooi).-—Tl_iere is in virluoiis cliilti-5
feelings with whicli one would approach be-’ I ,
-those who arein the habit of contemplating ”
of pure and undefiled religion, in its effects up» '
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Norwalk Chronicler