- VOL: 13. r N€)EWALK, CONN. TUESDAY, MARCH 23,1833. A LK GAZETTE. .- r.'a-\..-... - N O. 13. , ._,____,_ VIE. .... ....... _‘ #1 _ ‘—fi . J ‘§l——~— PUBLISHED 53:‘ “ barre, in order, with his wonted wutchful- ‘In procuring these he displays, in 1: ve- rials, fame is enduring. Sm.-h_is,tlio_ fume POETRY, ness, to take the dctacliment by surprise, ry singular manner, the, genius and energy of our \Vas.'iing‘ton,of the man "Illll(_‘Xll)lO to Every Tuesday Mombig. A raw aom wnsr or ‘rm! BRIDGE: BY JADIES REED. J8- TERMS—T\vo Dollars per nnnum, payable quarterly: Mail Subscribers in advance. A,liberal discount made to companies.—-Any person who will become responsible for six papers shall have the seventh gratis. A PLEASANT REMEDY FOR_ C 0 R N S! It has now been known for years, that the ALBION CORN PLASTER, AFFORDS immediate relief, and effects a certain cure for Corns. By its application according to accompanying ‘directions, the Com is softened, attenuated, and drawn out -by the roots, without the least pain, or any of the trouble ‘and danger attending the hazardous and ineffectual practice -‘of extracting the Corn by more cutting. The following instances, from many others of a similar 'Clla.l‘aCl:0l‘, sufliciently attest to the superior eflicacy of .4_lbzon Com Plaster: Mr. Farrar, of Boston, was a number of years distressed by a. very painful Com, had applied every thing recommended without effect, and was rendered a perfect cripple. On ap- p ing this Plaster he was perfectly cured of his Corn, and reed from his lameness. A Gentleman of Greenfield was years afllicted with a very painful Corn, and was cured by one box, after every other- plaster had been tried to no purpose, Mr. Cutler, of Boston, was cured of a troublesome Corn by one box. Certificate. To those alllicted with Corns on their feet, I do certify, that I have used the Albion Corn Plaster with corri- plete success. Before I had used one box, it cured a Corn which had troubled me for many years. I make this public for the benefit of those alllicted with that painful complaint _ (Signcd,) WM. SHAW Flushing, Long Island, Feb. 28. (Price 50 cents a bar, with directions.) DUMFRIES’ nfxffzov FOR THE 1- 1 L E S! !17Ni:w cuss or A Cons. Boston, Novemlaer 24th. SIR,the Pile Ointment and Electuary I lately had of you, L; has had an excellent effect. I have been troubled for years with tho Piles, and have never found any remedy that would compare with yours. The late attack was a severe one, but the relief was almost immediate. I take great pleasure in communicating this to you, for the benefit of any who may be suffering under so painful a discease. T. H Mr,Kmnsn. letter may be seen at the Counting Room of the for The Proprietor of this Medicine recommends it with the fullest confidence as one of the most valuable remedies yet discovered, for the cure of the painful and debilitating complaint of the Files. He deems it unnecessary to publish any other than the foregoing testimonial in its favour. This remedy has moic perfectly answered the purpose for which it is intended, than any other now in common use, and af- fords immediate and permanent relicf, both from the disorder itself, and its accompanying symptoms of pain in the loins, vertigo, headache, loss of appetite, indigestion, and other marks of debility. The remedy is quite innocent, and may be administered to all ages and both sexes. Plain and ample Directions, with a description of the complaint, accompany each package, which consists of two bo.-ccr. one containing an Uintmaxt, and the other an Elestwrry. Price $1 for betli articles, or 50 cents where but one only is wanted. _ _ IIj~The above valuable Medicines are prepared from the Original MS. Recipe of the late Dr. W. T. Conway, by T. KIDDER. his Immediate Successor and the Sole Proprietor For sale (with all the other Conway Mcdic'incs,) at his Count- fng Room, No. 99, next door to I. KIDDER’s Drug Store, corner of Court and Hfllflsaf Streets, near Concert Hall, Boston ; and also by ‘V510 and Bo-rum, Druggists. Norwalk; Srsvnroun J.-.nv1I, and WM. S. Wool), Stamford,[’nud CLOSE 87. Mini), Greenwich. '0... Observe that none are genuine without the written signature of T. KIDDER, on the outside printed wrn per. 1117A large discount made ta: those who buy to se again. H the public in general, that his Packets have commenced their weekly Trips and will sailfrom his landing to Peek Slip in the following manner; Sloop MECHANIC, ALDEN Brronrwscr. aslor, will sail Tuesdays and return Saturdays; loop CITIZEN. Sam’l. T. Morahouse, Muster,will sail Saturdaysk returnon Thursdays, For Freight or Passage apply to the subscriber or to eitherof the Captains on board their respective .essels. MONSON HOYT. Norwalk, February 27, 1832. ix SADDLE 8L HARNESS MAICING. THE subscriber ever thank- ful for the patronage he has received, would inform the public,that he continues to car- ry on the above business, at his old stand, in Saugatuck, where he has on hand and is constantly Manufacturing, of -— ‘ the first rate Materials, Sad- dles, Bridles, Harness, Trunks, Valieces, &.c., ex- pressly for customers use. and as cheap as can be bought in the United States. Also, for Sale, Buffalo Robes. Whips, Spur-s,Horse Blankets, Curry Combs, and Horse Brushes, &c. &c “ “ Repairing done with neatness 81 despatch. _ TTIE highest market price paid for Wood, in exchange for Work. PHILO W. JONES._ Saugaluck, Nov. I9, 1832. 907 NEW ARRANGEMENT. "\'. . TI-IE STEAM BOAT CITIZEN, cam Pack. .3‘... will leave Bridgeport every ..‘5--»-=~.-.-.—‘=:.‘~-—_..'-4.. Monday, Weddesdny, and Friday, at half past 7 o’clock, in the morning, and Nor“-alk g1; 11 A. M., Stamford It 12 noon, Saw Pitt: 31 1 P, M. for New York.—Leave New York on the morning of the following days, for Saw Pitts. Stam- ford, Norwalk and Bridg¢_2p0rt- _ Stages will be in readiness on the arrival of the Boat at the above named places, to carry passen- gers as usual. FOR SALE, A PLEASANTLY situated,and very convenient built Dwelling House, and an Acre of‘ Good Land adjoining, Willi fine Fruit, and other ' conveniencies, situated a. few rods above the old Well School House, and near the Methodist Mee'.ingHouse. The House is in good repair, and willbe sold cheap. For further partic- ulars enquire of CHARLES MALLORY. Norwalk, August 24, 1832. 2 HOUSE F0 RSALE. HE subscriber offers for sale his Dwelling House, and the whole orapart of the homestead containing about 12 acres of first rate land, with a good new Barn, and a variety of Fruit Trees, &c. standing thereon. For further particulars inquire of the subscriber, near the prem. isee, about half a mile west of theBridge. If not sold by the 1st of April, it will be rented for the year ensuing. Norwalk.Dec. 15, 1832. 33’ HATS. .511 THE Subscriber have on hand an assortment of gentlemens’Hats o f‘ good quality,and intend keeping a full sup- ply made in the best manner and fin- ished in New York in the latest style. - '~ Gentlemen can be supplied with Hate to Order upon short notice. ALFRED MALLORY. Norwiilir, March 2, 1833. 219 ' WILLIAM GALE OFFERS for sale a handsome and general assortment of HATS, inclu ding those of the latest New York fashions. Gentlemen can be supplied with Hate to order upw till’! notice. Inn-:3 Bninzoicr. 262 YOUTH AND AGE. nv ROIJEIIT nouruiiv. With cheerful step the traveller Pursues his early way, When first the dimly-dawning east Reveals the rising day. He bounds along the craggy road, He hastens up the height, And all he sees, and all he hears Adriiiliister delight.‘ And if the mist, retiring slow, Roll round its wavy white, He thinks the morning vapours hide Seine beauty from his night. But when behind the western clouds Departs the fading day, How wearily the traveller Pursues his evening way ! Barely along the craggy road, ~ His painful footsteps creep; And slow, with many ii fccblu pause, Isle labors up the steep. And if the mists of night close round, They fill his soul with four, [In dreads some unseen precipice, Some hidden danger near. 80 cheerfully docs youth begin Life's pleasant morning stage ; Alas! the evening traveller feels The fears of weary ago. MIISCELLANY. From the London Literary Gazette. THE CONSCRIPT AND HIS DOG. “ The sergeant and the priest advanced : the two friends embraced and kissed each other: Rcaumer retired to a spot where the other soldier was standing; and, kneeling on one knee, leant his face on his hands, still convulsively and unconsciously grasp- ing the spade, as if for support: the other twelve men had formed a double line, about fourteen paces to the front of Jean, who was between them and the embnnkrnent, his white-clothed figure, thus set in relief by the dark ground beyond, presenting a clear aim to their muskets. I-lo knelt down on his right knee, resting on the other his left arm: he said in a firm voice —-‘ I am ready.’ The priest was about to bind a handkerchief about his eyes; but he said, ‘ No-—I pray I may be spared that :—-let me see my death; I am not afraid ofit.’ The priest, after con- sulting the sei'geant's looks, withdrew the handkerchief: Colon retired to the place where Reaumer and the_otlier soldiers were; and the priest, after having received from his pciiiteiit the assurance that he died ‘ in charity with all mankind,’ and having be- stowed on him a last benediction, and laid on his lips the kiss of Christian love, also retired on one side. Colon gave the word of command——‘Prepure :’—the twelve mus- kets were brought forward ;——-‘Present:’- they were levelled. The sergeant was rais- ing his cane as the last signal, to spare the victim even the short pang of hearing the fatal word ‘ Fire !’ when Rollo,'with a loud yell, sprang to his master’s side. He had been startled from his slumber by the roll of the drum; and, looking up at what was going on, perceiving Jean left kneeling all alone, and all so silent, except Reaumer’s faintly-heard sobs, his instinct seemed to tell him his master was in some danger: his whining was unheard. or unheeded ; he felt this too, and ceased it, but made a des- perate effort to break the rope that held him, which, weakened as it was by his late knowing and tugging at it when in the out- house at Charolle, soon gave way, and, as above mentioned, he sprung with a yell to his master's side. But Jean's thoughts at that moment were too seriously engaged to heed even Rollo: he only raised his right arm, and gently put the dog aside, his own mild unflinching gaze still fixed on the sol- diers before him. But the dog was not checked by the movement of his master; still whining, and with his ears bcseeching‘- Iy laid back, he struggled hard to get nearer to him. Colon felt for Jean's situation, and made a sign to Reaumer, (who, wondering at the pause since the last word of command, had raised his eyes,) that he should try to coax the dog off: he did so by whistling and calling, but, of course, quite in vain. It will be at once seen that, though this has taken some time in the telling, all that pass- ed from the time of Rollo’s arrival was little more than the transaction of a moment. Still it was a delay ; and the men were rea- dy to fire: and Colon, not thinking the inci- dent of suflicient weight to authorise a sus- pension of the execution, however tempo- rary, muttered, ‘Great pity—the poor feliow will die too’—He turned his face again to his men ; and was again about to given the signal, when he was a second time inter- rupted by hearing loud shouts from behind him, accompanied by the discharge of a park of cannon. He glanced towards the opposite hill at his back, whereon the vil- lage stood, and there hesaw all was confu- sion and bustle—oflicers galloping to and fro, and the men forming hurriedly into a line, he hastily gave the word, ‘ As you were ;’ for along a line of road to the north east of the hill he saw a . thick cloud of dust, from which quickly plunged out a group of‘ horsemen, evidently oflicers; the foremost not so graceful a rider as many of them, though he set firmly too, was recog- nisod by Colon and his men (long before he was near enough for them to to distinguish a single feature of his face) by his gray frock coat, and small flat three-cornered cocked hat. Colon gave the word of com- mand; the soldiers shouldered their mus- kets,nnd prepared to salute ; and,in another minute, Napoleon, at the head of his staff, rained up on the top of the bill. He had left the march of the grand army some Jeaguos behind, and ridden on towards La- and see what they wore uboui. His eagle- eye, ivlioseglance saw every thing like an- other’s gaze, had at once detected the party on the hill, and he had ridden from the road at full speed up the slope to discover wli-at the object of the meeting was: u glance, too, told him that; and while he was yet returning the sulutc of the inch and their sergeant, he said, in a voice panting after his hard gallop, ‘ Hey? wli:it’s this 'l-- :1 dc- scrtion '9’ ‘ Yes, sire,-—no, sire; not exact- ly.’ “What then 1’ usl-icd Napoleon, in u ru- tlicr pcevisli to 3, his fucc ussuniing more than its usual stcrnncss; for hardly any thing more provoked him than hcsitatioii on the part of those he uddrcsscd. ‘ Abseiuze against orders, sire’, replied Colon. ‘ Alia l for how long? Is that his dog ?’ ‘ Yes, sire : only a few hours.’ ‘ A few hours! Wino gave this order, then 'l’ ‘ General S—, sire.’ ‘ ‘What cliui'uctei' does the inan bear ?’ ‘ He is a brave man, sire.’ ‘ Io is a l"i'oiicliuin1i,’ retorted Napoleon, proudly ; ‘ but is he lio- nest, and sober, and generally obedient?’ ‘Yo-s, sirc; this is his first fault.’ "iii! how long has be served l’ ‘ Three years last M-.ii'cli, sire.’ A louder and higher toned ‘ ’M l’ escaped Napoleon ; and his at- tention was at the some moment attracted by Rcaumur, who, with a timid step, haul approiiched the emperor; and, kneeling on one knee, with clasped liuiids and broken voice, cried, ‘ Oh I sii'c,if you—ii'you would spare his lifc—he is innocent of——- any in- teiitioii to clescrt—thut I can’—‘ Are you his brother?’ interrupted the emperor. ‘ No, sire,’ answered Re-auincr; ‘ his fi'iend—liis dear friend.’ ‘And how know you what his intentions were '2’ ‘ He told them me, sire; he_ only went last night to see his friends, and would have returned the same night, but that I——I advised him to meet the regiment at Lab-arrc ; and I know---’ ‘And what business hudst thou to advise a com- rade iii a breach of duty? Stuiid back to thy place.’ And Reaunicr retired, covered with shame. Napoleon beckoned Jean to him; he came, and Rollo with him; and the latter, as though uiidcrstniiding the power and uutliority of the man his master thus obeyed, puthis fore-paws against his stirrup, and whimpered iinploringly up to him. Jean looked up for a moment in the emperor’s face, but his gaze dropped, though without quailing, beneath that of the piercing large gray eyes tliut were fixed on him. After L1 short pause, Napoleon said, ‘ Thine age? Lie down---down, good dog !’ for Rollo was getting importuuute. ‘ Twen- ty-five years, sire,’ Jeuii answered. ‘ VVliy hast thou disobeyed orders?’ ‘ I could not help it, sire.’ ‘ Couldu’t help it! How (lest thou mean I’ ‘ I was so near my friends, and so longed to see them, that indeed I could not help it, sire.’ ‘Tis a strange ex- cuse.’ Down I Isay, good brute l’ but at the same moment that he said so, be un- gloved his hand, and gave it to Rollo to lick : then after a short pause, added, ‘And thou sawest thy parents?’ ‘Yes, sire ; and I was returning to the regiment, when-’ ‘Ah ! this is true, sergeant 'l’ turning to Co- lon. ‘Yes, sire, ’tis true,’ answered be: ‘we met him about three quarters of a league from ’ ‘I need not have asked, tliougli,’ interrupted Napoleon; ‘the man’s face looks true. Thy name ‘I’ again addressing Jean. ‘Jean Gavard, sire-—Down, Rollo ! I fear he is troublesome to your liigliness.’ Napoleon smiled—perhaps at the title--and answered, ‘No, no; poor Rollo, he is a fine dog. I shall inquire into this affair, Gavard ; for the present I respite thee.’ Jean knelt on his knee, and seized the Empcror’s hand to kiss it ; but Napoleon said ‘stay, stay; thy dog has been lickingit.’ But this made no difference to poor J can, who kissed it eager- ly; and when Napoleon drew it away, it was wet with tears. He looked on the back of his hand a moment, and his lips coin- pressed themselves as he did so. ‘They are the tears of a brave man, sir,’ said be, turning to a young oflicer at his side, on whose features the einperor’s side-glance had caught a nascent smile: ‘Forward !’ And at full gallop the party left the ground. Jean’s feelings at this sudden escape from death, were like those of a man wakened from a frightful dream, before his senses are yet cnongh gathered together to remember all its circumstances. Jean had little time, however, to gather them on this occasion, for Reaumer’s arms were, in a moment a- round his neck ; and the hands of his com- rades--those very hands that a minute be- fore were about to deal him death---were now gladly grasping his; and their many congratulations on his escape, ended in one loud shout of ‘Live the Emperor !’ From the Museum of For. Literature, and Science. Wilson’s description of the Bald Eagle, the armorial emblem of the United States. This bird has been long known to natu- ralists, being common to both continents, and occasionally met with from a very high northern latitude,to the borders of the torrid zone, but chiefly in the vicinity of the sea, and along the shores and cliffs of our lakes and large rivers. Formed by nature for braving the severest cold ; feeding equally on the produce of the son, and of the land; possessing powcrs- of flight capa- bio of outstripping even the tempests them- selves ; unawod by anything but man ; and from the ethereal heights to which he soars, looking abroad, at one glance, on an im- measurnbleexpanse of forests, fields, lakes, and ocean, deep below him, he appears in- different to the little localities of change of seasons ; us in a few minutes he can pass from summer to winter, from the lower to the higher regions of the atmosphere, the u- bode of eternal cold, and from thence de- scend at will to the torrid or the arctic re- gions of the earth. He is therefore found atall seasons in the countries he inliabits; but prefers such places as have been mention- ed above, froin the great pnrtiulity he has for fish.‘ of his character, which is fierce, contempla- tive,daring and tyrannical; attributes not ex- erted but on particular occasions ; but when put forth, ovei'powci'irig all opposition.»- Elevated on the liigli (load limb of some gigantic tree that coininauds a wide view of the iieighboring shore and ocean, he seems calmly to contemplate the motions of the featlit-red tribes that pursue their busy avo- cations below; the snow-wliitc Gulls slow- ly \vini‘.owing the air; the busy 'I'riiig:c coui'singulong the sands; trains of Ducks strc:ii'ning over the surface ; silent and wutcliful Cruiics, iiitcizt and v.':'uliiig ; clum- orous Ci'ov.'s, and all the iviiigcd ll'llIllllllLlCS that subsists by the bounty of this vast liquid rnaguziiic of nziturc. Iiigli over all tliasc lzovcrs one, whose action iiislnntly arrests all his attention. By his wide cui'vutui'c of wing, and sudilcii susperrsioii iii the settling over some devoted victim of the deep. Ills cyo kiudlcs at the sight, and" bulaiicing liiinsclf, with liulf-r-pi.-ncil wings, on the bi'aiicli,he,watchesthe result. L‘o*.vii, rapid as an arrow frcui licuveu, descends the Liistziiitolijcct ofliis uttciitioii,1iio roar of its wiiigs l‘L'.ilCllCLl the car as it disup; cars in the deep, iii.-ikiug the surge fonin urouiul. At this moment the eager looks of the Eu- gle arc fill nmloi‘; and lcvclliiig his neck for flight, he sees the Flfill-.l'IilWli once more cnicrge, straiggliiug with his prey, mid iiiour.- ting in the air with screams of exultation. These are the signals for our hero, who, launching into the air, instantly gives chase, and soon gains on the I"isli-l'luwk, eucli exerts his utmost to mount above the other, displaying in those rcncontres the most clo- guiit ,nnd sublime .l.I3l'lt1l evolutions. 'I'ho uniucumbered Eagle rapidly advances, uiul is just on the point of i'cacliin«_v; his oppo- iiciit, when with a sudden screain probably of despair and honest cxccrution, the bitter drops his fish; the Eagle poising liiinsclf for at inoinent, us if to take a more certain uiin, descends like -.1 wliirlwind, siiutclics it in his grasp ere it reaches the WEit(:l', and bears his ill-gotten booty silently nivuy to the woods.’ Butlet Franklin's character of the bald eagle bclicurd, and his prefcrciico of tho tui'l«:cy as the national bluzon. ‘ For my own part I wish the bald eagle had not been chosen as the representative of our country; he is :1 bird of bad moral cha- racter; lie (loos not get his living honestly; you may have seen him perched on some dead tree, where too lazy to fish for liimself he watches the labors of the fisliiiig-hawk, and when that diligent bird has at length taken a fish, and is bearing it to his nest for the support of his mate uiidyouiig ones, the bald eagle pursues and takes it from him. ‘Willi all this injustice, lie is never in good case, but like those among men who live by sliarping and robbing, he is gciierally poor, and very often lousy. Besides he is a rank coward; the little king-bird not bigger than a sparrow,attacks him boldly and drives him out of the district. He is therefore by no means a proper emblem for the brave and honest Ciiicinnuti of America, who have driven all the king-birds from our country; though exactly fit for that order of knights whom the French cull chcvaliers cl’ inclus- tijic. I am on this account not displeased, that the figure is not kuowii as the bold ca- glc, but looks more like a turkey. For in truth the turkey is, in comparison, ti much more respectable bird, and witlial a true. original native of America. Eagles have been found in all countries, but the turkey was peculiar to ours. He is besides (though a little vain and silly ’tis true, but not the worse emblem for that) a bird of courage, and would not hesitate to attack a grcnudier of the British guards, who should presume to invade his farm yard with a rod coat on.’ IN'PEGRI1‘Y.—-Tll0 first great maxim of human conduct, that which it is all impor- tant to impress on the understnndiiig of young men and recommend to their hear- ty adoption, is, that in all circumstances, and under every emergency, to preserve a clean heart, and an honest purpose. Iii- tegrity, firm determined integrity, is that quality which, of all others, raises man to the highest dignity of his nature, and fits him to adore and bless the sphere in which he is appointed to move. VVitbout it, nie- ther genius nor learning, neither the gifts of God, nor human exertions, can avail ought for the accoihplisliineiit of the ‘great object of human existence. Integrity is the crowing virtue, integrity is the perva- ding princple which ought to regulate-,guidc, control and vivify every impulse and action, Honesty is sometimes spoken of as a vulgar virtue, and perhaps that honesty, which barely refrains from outraging positive rules ordained by society for the protection of property, and which ordinarily pays its debts and performs its engagements, however useful and commendable a quality, is not to be numbered among the highest efforts of human virtue. But tlmtintegrity which, however tempting the opportunity, or how- ever secure against detection, no selfishness nor resentment, no lust of power, place, fa- vor, profit or pleasure, can cause to swerve from the strict rule of right, in the perfection ofinan’s moral nature. In this sense, the poet, was right, when be pronounced “an honest man the noblest work of God.” It is almost inconceivable what an erect and independent spirit this high endmvment communicates to the man, and wliata mor- al intrepidity and vivifying energy it imports to his character. There is a family alli- ance between all the virtues,and perfectin- tegrity is always followed by a train of goodly qualities, frankness, benevolence, humanity, patriotism, promptiicss to act, and patience to endure. In moments of public need, these indicate the man who is worthy of universal confidence. Erected on such a basis, and built up ofsuch mate- uir, he knows him to be the .f"r's7i Q-."mc.’.:,. ill and'obstinat.cly just.” VVliile therefore, other monuments intended to perpetuate human greatness-, are daily mouldcring into dust, and belie the proud inscriptions which they l)(3..‘.l‘, the solid granite pyrziinid of his glory lasts from ugc to age, iniperishublc, seen :‘.f'.ll' Oil’, lumiiiilg high over the vust desert, a mu: k, sign and u ivomlcr for the way fui'ci's tlirougli this pilgriinuge of life. A nice sense ofintegrity, tlicrcfore cannot be too early chcrislicd, or too scdulously cultivutcil. In the very dnwnings of life, occnsioiis are presented for its exercise.-— ‘v‘.’itliin these walls, tcmptzztions every day U'.'(:Ill‘,.\Vll(.'i‘(.‘- tcinpornry advantage solicits n dcviaitimi froin the rule 0frig'ht. In the disclizirgc of the various duties winch you owe to your compunimis, let nu potty sulf- isliness be indulgcil, no artificcs practised, by which you are to escape from your fair shun: oflaabor, iiiconvcnieiice or contribu- tion, Oi’ any one deprived of the full meas- ure of wli:itcvci' he may ri_1;'htfully c|.iim.—- Cultivate single.-ncss of purpose and frank- ncssofdcincuiioi', and bold in cnmwiiipt '.vlizitcv4:i' is S()l'lllll, (lisingciious, Cuniiiiig or iiiczui. But it is when l-llL‘SU peaceful slizulcs shall lizivo been left behind, and the litful course ofbusy life litegiiii, that seduc- tions will be presented under every form by which lllC.\'pL‘l‘lUliCC, iiiliriiiily of purpose, and faculty ofdisposilioii, can be w.-.iyl:iid. Then is the crisis of the young inun’s fate — tlicii is the time to take his stand, to seize his vantage grouiid. If he can then defy the alurcnieiit.-3 of cupidity, seiisualit_v, and ambition, the laugh of feels, the arts of par- nsitcs, and the coiitagiou ol"inipropity ; then indeed, may be hope, “ In sight of mortal and immortal powers, As in :1 boundless theatre to run 'i"‘lie great career of_justice— And through tlzc mists ofpassion and ofsenso, An tln-uu;;;li;llio tossing tide ofcliaiice and pain, To hold his course UIlf'«lllllOl'fl.lJlC." Gast--n’s Address. From the Sziluidny Evening Post. IYIY F.-’L'i‘I-IERW3 GRAVE. (FROM my Jouz:N.\r,.) Yesterday I paid a visit to my father's grrave; zi tliousuiid recollections ruslied ut once like :1 torrent upon my mind. Seven suinmers have now passed away, since I saw the green sod piled upon his breast: and ob, shall I ever foi'_1;et that hour, the most wretched of my life. Never shall I forget the sensations that filled my breast, as the cold damp cl ocls fell rumbling upon his coffin ; and never shall I for:__;et the cold, icy chill that rushed to my heart, as that me- lnuclioly sound greeted my car. It was then I saw myself thrown upon a cold un- fecling world, a poor and eliecrless orphan, with not one friend, or one protector, to give me one kind consoling word, save her whose affections time, nor circumstances, can ever illlCi‘lZ).lC0---Slit} who will love me, though all the world forsake me---she whose love nothing can weaken or obliterate---slic who will ever watch over me with uncens- ing solicitude, who will smile at my prospe- rity, und weep for my misfortunes. Yes, though the glooms of sorrow and misfor- tune hovcr around my head, there is one to whom I will ever be dear, one wlioso love nothing can influence, and which will never forsake mc,tliougli I should be disgraced and degraded for ever:---her, I need not name. Alas l how many changes huve ta- ken place since then-—-liow many changes have taken place since then---how many, like myself, have been made orpliaiis--'-how many have drunk, to the very dregs, the bitter cup of misfortune and sorrow---and how many, like myself, have been launched out into this wide world’s' billowy ocean, to buffet, unaided and alone, the various scenes of life. I am not a wecper---I do not often shed tears : but as I stood over my father’s grave, now grown green with the verdure of seven summers, as I reflected upon the various mishaps of this world, the vicissitudes, the ups and downs of lifc---when I thought of the many I had known in “ days gone by,” of my many boyish friends and schoolmnte companions, of the many hours of " care- less glee,” I had spent with them ; and when I reflected liowlmany of them I could now count, how many of whom have gone to the silent tomb, and the rest scattered over this wide world in quest of fortune or of f'aino~--mzmy have gone to the dark fo- rests of the far west, and few, very few, are like myself still lingering near the home of their boyish days, (:1 spot hallowed by the purest, the tcnderest recollections of their lives, and of all others the clearest to the human heurt,) when I thought of tbis,when I thought of home, once happy, but now de- solate home, I could not---nay, I would not, for the wealth of India---have forgone the luxuryief a tour. I left the sacred spot, a tear still stealing down my cheek. It is a poor tribute to the memory of him who gave me being; but the silent tear, when shed from the deep fount of feeling, when retired from the world, with none but God to witness it, speaks more for the heart than the proudest monument that could be erect- ed for the admiring eyes of the world to gaze upon. Rur-Lv Covnrmonv. Mr. H , of the town of , in his younger days at- tended school with two young ladies, by the names of Mary Ann and Patiencc.—— One day H. was much puzzled in perform- ing his sums. He went frequently to the miister for assistance, until the master dis- liking the frequent iuteruptions, said to him sternly, “You must have patience.” “Why not Mary Ann I” was the instant reply of H. H. took Mary Ann, but has since taken un- to himself Patience also, whether in con- formity with the order of the school-muster, we pretend not to say. A Sensible Query. “VVhnt is the use,” said a fellow, “of a man’s working himself‘ ‘- Our peneenblo and quiet little city has, for the last two or three weeks, been consider- ably disturbed by the repeated visits of’ some queer animal, who, having forsaken thc haunts of its species, in “the desert wild,” appears to be longing Ilfl0I_‘ the luxuries and spleiidors of“tlie city fuIl,”nnd intent Iipoii proving the advantages of civilized society. But he has met with a cold reception among the biped men; having been shunned liken beggar, a spy, or n maraudcr. In truth, there is such an instinctive aversion in man to any thing like a frondly or familiar inter- course with the claw-footed ‘animals of the wood, that the people have reluctantly walked the street: after night lest they should come in contact with this unwelcome visitor. Having, however, frequently, ob- trudcd himself upon the notice of those whose business called them forth, :1 small party, resolving to free themselves froiii his annoyance, a few evenings ago banded themselves togotlicr, and pledged to each other “their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor,” not to sleep until he was fab’ ed in his blnml. But it is due to the city autlioritics to state, that this barbarous pro- cecdiiigs was not sanctioned by their oflicinl acts; for they had not so much as given credence to the reports that were in circula- lion concerning biin. About the time how- ever, that this scouting party had cleverly entered upon their expedition, an alarm was given near the Ncwbcrii Bank. The gen- tleman passing by, who had been among the iiicrcdulous,finding ti creature ofstrange appearance crouched down at the corner of the Bank, begaii, for the first time, to yield to suspicioiiwhicli, like a flame that had been smothered, now bluzod the higher for her having been suppressed, and, ina trice, so heated the imagination, that a multi- tude of hideous images and uppreliensioii danced across the mind like the chiincras of a feverish dream. Cool, and clcliherate, and lnti'cpid as those gentlemen are acknowledged to have been licretofore, here was something that gave them more than inquisitive excitement. But iiothing dnuntcd, of course, their lan- _«_riiagc was like that of Ilaiiilct to the ghost-— “Bo tby intent wicked, or charitable, Thou coniesi in such a questionable shape, I will speak to thee.” A candle was instantly procured ; in the light ofwliicli a cautious inspection was ta- ken but they dared not approach near 0- uongh to decide with certaiiity as to the true cliaracter of the mysterious visitor. One supposed, at first, it was nothing but a dog or a monkey ; but the other, with “optics sharp,” was well convinced thutit was much larger than any monkey or dog he had ever seen ; and the final conclusion was, that it must be some ferocious animal that ought to be killed “at all hazards." Accordingly, off posts one,in haste to Mr.Marslia1's store, in pursuit of a gun, leaving the other to wacth. He gazed upon the monster": glar- ing eye-balls, as they flashed fire around his scowling countenance, until he almost realed with dizziness. Then he saw him jump, and crouch, again, as if preparing to spring upon his prey. He had no weapon ; and what could he do? There was no oth-- or alternative for his safety but to abandon his post 5: and this was done ; but it was no inglorious fight. Even the daring spirit of a Putnam would have failed him in such a dilcinina. Soon after he retired, the hunting party-, and eqiiipped cap-a-pic, arrived ; and with- out further ceremony, commenced the at- tack, by opening a fire of musketry upon what ull now agreed to be a formidable cn-- emy. But he stood unscathed. A trusty rifle was then tried, which brought him to the ground-, with a shriek that was distinct- ly heard by one of the party-. By this time a considerable crowd had assembled and, after allowing sufiicient time to be assured that he had received his quietus, the two gentlemen, accompanied by others, ventur- ed up to finish their examination-. But they found themselves still puzzled, like the Dutchman, who, having killed a skunk that’ ventured to disturb his hen roost, raised if from the ground, and asked "Vat can dish be? He isli no rngoon ; for lie ish all over“ vite, and he isli all over black-. _ He ish no bosshoin; for hisli dail ish shlick no more akin ;und he sdinks until I can slimell him no more akin." One exclaimed "only feel what fine fur ; I’ll die ifit ain't the d—-I !" The other agreed it was “very fine ;” “but,” continued be, “what can it be 1” The for- mer,changed his opinion,said“it is a goat ;" to which the latter rejoined, “Why, yes, poor thing! so it is ;” and took it by the cars. But he never before so fully felt the force of the old adage, “seeing is believing, but feeling is the trutli,” as he did at that moment ; for he found that they were -all mistaken, and a vapid sensation came over him like that blankness which one feels who :-iwakes himself by talking in his sleep; and in u subdued tone, he said to his companion “we are housed 1” Yes, gentle render, this is a true tale, and the frightful object that caused all this excitenicnt, was an auima of straw .’ The alarm which had beeifinanifested by some of our ‘citizens, in coiisequence of the report that something variously represented to be a bear, a tiger, a panther, or a cata- mouut, had frequently been seen in the streets after dark, induced some humorous individual to make a “monstrum horren- dum,” about the size of a common cur, by ingeniously giving body and limbs, shape and proportions toa peace Of black Silk, and stuffing it with straw: so that by the help of an excited imagination, itgmight be easily taken for a bear. This" truly laugh- able farce went oft’ with admirable eclat. to death to gt a living 3” Raleigh, (N. 0.) Star. _ EXTRAORDINARY AND in-yuan Vis‘i'roit" ken mid the fire of their vengeance quencli=- ‘
Norwalk Chronicler