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POETRY.
From the Boston Pearl.
VATHEIL
nv JOHN G. VV}IlT'1'1F-I’--
\Vhoever has read the thriling 5l0"Y Or Vallleli
by Beclgfnrtl, will i'emember_tlie scene. of l\ou-
ronihar's heroic determination to abide with
her lover, and share his dangers.
L,-WF thee !..—Ncvcrl---Fate may gather
Darker round thy fearful path---
. Curses of a dving father
Summon down the avenger’s wrath ;
Be thy course for ill or good, -
stmm, with flwoers or dark with blood,
'_[‘lt_ine shall be the guiding star
Ofihy own Nouroniharl
Tel me not of dangers hidden
I the evil Afrit lantl ;_
\Vlle thy love is uuforbidden.
Yhile as now I clasp thy hand.
“me my form remains before me,
\V’, e thine eye is watching o’er me,
A2.‘ l’s arm alone shall bar
Vatl k from Nouronihar I
Eve as with some mighty river
Blends the tribtitary rill,
Down its stirging torrent over
\Vandering at its kingly will-
- Sharer oftliy shade and sun,
Shall my feeble current run,
Fearful as thy jourueyings are,
Turns to them Nouroniliar!
G0 thou to the Diatnond land,
\Vhere the sparkling wave is thrown,
“‘ Eé€_li..w,ith.,gold, upon astrand
Pcbbled with tlieagate stone—
‘Or the Kaf’s uneartliy cells,
'\Vhere the prisoner Eblis dwells-
He who bears the thunder’s car-—
Thou hast still Nouroniliar!
Climb thou to the mountain throne
VVhere the thunderer’s step has been,
And the Siiiiurgli sits alone,
Feastingoii the woes ofmen—-
T, _ In the sunshine of t.hine eye
'"iDreadless wliile.tliy form is iiigli-—
Bright orfading -be the star,‘
It shall guide Nouroiiiliar!
Onward‘ l—and, \vhale’er betide,
Vathek, I am with the still,
Sharing with thee selfsame pride
In thy glatliiess and thy ill ;
On l-—my world is dark withoutthce,
And its sunshine dwells about thee,
Onward l—-Eblis waits afar:
Thine is still Nouroniliar l
g.
., .4‘. LECT TALES.
THE RUINED ONE.
, BY wAsi.ii.\'t;'i'o.\* lI’.\'I.\'G.
In the course of an excursion through one of
the remote cotinties of Eiiglziiid, Iliad struck iii-
.to one ofthose cross roads that lead tlirouglrtlie
more secluded parts ofthc country, and Stopped
one after-noon at a village, the situation ofwhicli
was beautifully rural and retired. There was
an air of priuiit.ive simplicity aboutils inliabi-
tants, not to be found in the villages which lie
on the great coach ro.-ids. I determined to pass
the night there, and_ having taken an early din-
ner, strolled out to enjoy the neighboring scene-
ry.
My ratiible, as is usually the case with trav-
ellers, soon led me to the church, which stood at
a little distance from the village. Indeed, it was
an object of some curiosity, its old tower being
completely ()V€‘I‘1‘l1l‘. with ivy, so that only here
and there ajuttiug buttress. an angle ofgray
wall, or a fantastically carved ornament, peered
through the verdant covering. It was a lovely
evening. The early part ofthe day had been
dark and sliowry, luit in the afternoon it had
cleared it p; and tiiougli sullen clouds still hung
over head, yet there was a broad tract of golden
sky in the west, from which the setting suit
gleanied through the dripping leaves, and lit up
all nature into a melancholy smile. lt sceriied
, like the parting hour ofa good Christian, smil-
"ing on the sins and sorrows ofthe world. atid
giving, in the serenity of his decline, an fissur-
ance that he will rise again in glory.
I had seated myselfou a lialfsiiukeii toml-stone
and was musing, as one is apt to do at this sober-
thoughtcd hour, on past scenes and early friends
—on those who were distant and those who
were dead-—aud indulging in that kind of inel-
ancholy faucying, which has in it something
sweeter even than pleasure. Every now antl
then, the stroke ofa bell frotii the neighboring
, tower fell on my ear; its tones were in unison
with the scene, and, instead ofjarring. chimed
in with my feelings; and it was sometime before
I recollected, that it must be tolling the kncll of
ome new tenant of the tomb.
Presently I saw a funeral train moving across
.he village green ; it wound slowly along a
pane; was lost, and reappeared through the
‘breaks of the hedges, until it passed the place
‘where I was sitting. The pall was supported
y young girls, dressed in white; and another,
bout the age of seventeen, walked before, bear-
rig a chaplet of white flowers ; a token that the
eqeased was a young and unmarried female.
he corpse was followed by the parent.s. They
vere_a venerable cotiple_ of the better order of
i
feelings; but his fixed eye,'contracted brow, and
deeply furrowed face, showed the struggle that
was passing within. His wife hung on his arm,
and wept aloud with the convulsive burst ofa
motlier‘s sorrow.
I followed the funeral into the church. The
bier was placed in the centre aisle, and the chap-
let of white flowers, with a pair of white gloves,
,were hung over the seat which the deceased had
_. occupied. . ,
,, Every one knows the soul subduing pathos of
I funeral service; for who is so fortunate as never
to have followed some one he has loved to the
. tomb? but when performed ov_er the remains of
it; innocence and beauty, thus laid low in the
iihbluom of existence—what can be more affect-
": ling? At that simple, but most solemn consign-
lment of the body to the grave—‘Earth to earth-
», : ashes to ashes—dust to dust!’—the tears of the
youthful companions, of the deceased flowed un-
restrained. The father still seemed to struggle
" with his feelings, and to comfort himselfwitli the
1 assurance, that the dead are blessed which die
._=’-’ in the Lord; but the mother only thought ofher
,2; child as a flower of the field cut down and with-
ered in the midst ofits sweetness; she was like
Rachel, ‘mourning over her children, and would
not be comforted.’
l On returning to the inn I leartit the whole sto-
of the deceased. It was a simple one, and
)such aslias often been told. She was the beau-
ty and pride of the village. Her father had once
ecu an opulent farmer, but was reduced in
circumstances. This was an only child, and
brought U1) entirely at home, in the simplicit.y of
:rural llfC}- She had been the pupil ofthc village
ypastor, i. ic favorite of his little flock. The good
E,-man w_atched over her education with paternal
icare };]'1l was limited, and Sllll.i1l)lc 10 me Splmm
,, w ich she was to move , for he ,,,,]y S,,,,,_,j,,
, Lmake her an ornament to her station in litb
V-*'. ‘ to raise her above it. The tenderness -mil
indulgence of her parents, and the exemption
from all ordinary occupations, had fostered a na-
tural §"<'1_‘-'0 and delicacy of character, Iliat ac-
,g;l'ded_lV'1lll ‘he fragile loveliness ofher from.—-
de‘: itlilleflrell like some tender plant ofthc gar-
. 3. "°""'”g ilccidentall auiid the l ' d' -
llvesofllie fields. Y "" 1°" ‘"1
; ,, I . .
S”ll°"°’”.V Ufhcr charms was felt and
Jelinow edged 1) her . - .
_1. _ _Y coinpauions, but without
‘WVY a ,0!‘ it was surpassed b ll‘ '
tpcntleness and kindries- 1, 31’ I0 unassuiiiing
ls ' . '5 ‘1 ‘CF manners. It
“"3 Of her at
it’ - .
“:51 l°W horn lass, that over.
:-
S
_-‘peasantry. The father seemed to repress his,
x.-
.x-tnygxxn
BY WM. G. HYER.
VGLQ
A PRINCIPLES
AND IIIEN.
l‘§l€I)RiVA.LH£, CON. TUESDAY, BECEE’E§BER 15, 1835.
as PER ANNUM.
N0. 5..
____j___._.
Ran on the green-swards: nothing she does or
seems,
But smacks of something greater than herself;
Too noble for his place.’
The village was one of those sequestered
spots, which still retain some vestiges ofold Eti-
glish customs. It had its rural festivals and
holyday pastimes, and still kept tip some faint
observance of the once popular rites of May.-—
These, indeed had bceti promoted by its present
pastor; who was a lover ofold customs, and one
of those simple Christians that think their mis-
sion fulfilled by promotingjoy on earth and good
will among mankind. Under his auspices the
may-pole stood from year to year in the centre
of the village green §——on May day it was de-
corated with garlands and streamers; and a
queen or lady of the May was appointed. as in
former times, to preside at the sports, atid distri-
bute the prizes and rewards. The picturesque
situation of the village, and the fancifuliiess of
its rustic fetes. would often attract the notice of
casual visiters. Among these, on one May day,
was a young ofiicer, whose regiment had been
recently quartered in the neighborhood. He
was charmed with the native taste that pervad-
ed this village pageant; but, above all, with
the dawning loveliness of the queen of May.
It was the village favorite, who was crowned
with flowers, and blushing and smiling in all
the beautiful confesioti of girlish diflidence and
delight. The artlessness of rural habits enabled
him readily to make her acquaintance; lie gra-
dually won his way i.ito her ititiniacy, and paid
his court to her in that unthinking way in which
young officers are too apt to trifle with rustic
simplicity.
There was nothing in his advances to startle
or alarm. He never even talked of love;but
there are tnodes of makiud it more eloquentthan
language, and which convey it subtilely and ir-
rcsistiblv itito the heart. The beam of the eye,
the tonedof the voice, the tliousatid tendernesses
which emanate from every word, and look, and
action--—these form the true eloqtieiicc oflove,
and can almost be felt and understood, but never
described. Can we wonder that they should
readily win a heart young, guilcless, and sus-
ceptible '.’ As to her, she loved aliriost uncon-
sciously ; she scarcely inquired what was the
growing passion that was absorbing every
thought and feeling, or what were to be its con-
sequences. She, indeed looked not to the future.
\Vhen present, his looks and words occupied
her wliole attention ;wlien absent, she thought
but of what had passed at their recent interview.
She would wander with him tlirotigli the green
lanes and riiarl scenes of the vicinity.---He
taught her to see new beautiesin nature; he
talked in the language ofpolite and cultivated
life, and breathed itito her the witchcries of ro-
mance and poetry.
Perhaps there could not have been a passion,
betweentlie sexes, more ptire than this innocent
girl’s. The gallant figure ofher youtliftifadmir-
er, and the splendor ofhis military attire, might
at first have charmed her eye; but it was not
these that had carfliyated lie_r liear_t- I-1-w «truffl-
nient had something in it of idolatry. She
looked tip to him as a being of superior order.
She felt in his society the enthusiasm ofa mind
naturally delicate and poctical, and now first
awakened to a keen preception of the beautiful
aiitl grand. Of the sordid distinction of rank
and fortune, she thought nothing; it was the
diffcrnce of intellect, ofdemeanor, of manners,
from those ofthe rustic society to which she
had been accustomed, that elevated him in her
opinion. She would listen to him with charmed
ear and dowiicast look of mute delight, and her
cheek would mantle with enthtisiasm ; or, if
even she ventured a sly glance oftimtd admira-
tion, it was as quickly withdrawn, and she would
sigh and blush at the idea of her comparative
unworthiiiess.
Her lover was equally impassioned; but his
passion was niitigled with feelings ofa coarser
nature. He had begun the connexion in levity ;
for he had often heard his brother ofiicers boast
oftlicir village conquests; and thought some
triumph of the kind necessary to his reputation
as a man of spirit. But he was too full of youth-
ful fervor. His heart had not yet been rendered
sufliciently cold and selfish by a wanderitig and
a dissipated life: it caught fire from the very
flame it sought to kindle, and before he was
aware oftlie nature ofhis situation, he became
really in love.
\Vhat was he to do? There were the old ob-
stacles which so incessantly occur in these heed-
less attacliments. His rank in life---tlie prejudice
of titled connexions—his dependence upon a
proud and unyielding father—all forbade him
to think of matrimony :—-btit when he looked
down upon this innocent being, so tender and
confiding, there was a purity in her manners,
_a blamelessness in her life, and a beseecliing
modesty in her looks, that awed down every
licentious feeling. In vain did he try to forti-
fy himselfby a thousand heartless examples of
examples of men of fashion; and to chill the
glow of generous sentiment, with the cold deri-
sive levity with which he had heard them talk
offeniale virtue ; whenever he came into her pres-
ence, she was still surrounded by that myster-
ious, but impressive charm of virgin purity,
in whose hallowed sphere no guilty thought
can live.
The sudden arrival of order from the regi-
ment to repair to the continent, completed
the conftision ofmind. He remained fora short
time in a state of the most painful irresolut,io_n;
he hesitated to communicate the tidings, until the
day of marching was at hand; when he gave
her the intelligence in the course of an evening
rauible.
The ideaofparting had neverbefore occurred
to her. It broke at once upon her dream of
felicity; she looked at once upon it as suddeii-
and insurmountable evil, and wept with the
guileless simplicity of a child. He drew her
to his bosom, aiitl kissed thetcars from her soft
cheek;nor did he meet with a repulse; for
these are moments of mingled sorrow and ten-
derness, which allow thc caresses of affection.
He was naturally iinpctuotis ; and the sight of
beauty, apparently yielding in his arms ; the
coiifidcticc of his power ovcrlier ; and the dread
of losing her forever; all conspired to overwhelm
his better f'eclings—lie ventured to propose that
she should leave her liouie, atid become the
couipanion of his fortune.
He was quite a novice in seduction, and
bluslied and faltcred at his own basciicss; lu_;,
so innocent ofriiiud was liisintcndctl vi_(;',',m.1|,m
she was ill. first at 11 loss it) fijomprchcntl his
'“C‘3”l”g i and Wll)’ Sllc Bhotiltl leave her native
Vlllilflc 81"] 1110 l'l'.‘.n‘ihle roof of her parents?
Vvllell at last the natureofhis proposal flashed
upon her pure mind, the cllcct. was withering.
She ditl not weep ; she did not break forth in
roproacli-—-slio said not a 'word——but. ‘she shrunk
back aghast as from a viper; gave him a look
of anguish that pierced to his very soul;atitl
clasping her liandsin agony llcd as if for refuge,
to her father's cottage.
The afficer retired,confounded, litiiniliatctl,
and repentant. It is uncertain what might
have been the rcsult.ofthe conflict ofhis feelings,
had not his thoughts been diverted by the btistle
of departure. New scenes, new pleasures. and
new companions, soon dissipated his sclf.re-
proach, and stifled his tenderness;yet, amidst
the stirof camps, the revelries of garrisous, the
array of armies, and even the din ofbattle, his
thoughts would sometimes steal back to the
scenes of rural quiet and village simplicity——
tlie cottage—the footpath along the silver brook
and up the hawthorn hedge, the little village
maid loirtering along it, leaning on his arm, and
listening to him with eyes beaming with un-
conscious affection. _\ j
The shock which the poor girl had received,
in the destruction of all her ideal world, had_in-
deed been cruel. Faintings and liysterics, had
at first shaken her tender frame, and were stic-
ceetled by settled and pining melancholy. She
had beheld from her window, the march of the
departing troops. She had seen her faithless
lover borne off, as ifin triumph; amid the sotiud
of drum and trumpet, atid the pomp of arms.
She strained a last aching gaze after him, as the
morning stin glittered about his figure, and his
plume waved in the breeze : he passed away
like a bright vision from her sight, and left her
all in darkness.
It would be trite to dwell on the particulars of
her after story.‘ It was like oilier tales of love
atitlmelancoly. She avoided society, and wan-
dered out alonein the walks she had most fre-
quented with her lover. She sought, like the
stricken deer, to weep in silence and loneliness.
and brood over the barbed sorrow that rankled
in her sotil. Sonietinies she would be seen late
of an evening sitting in the porch of the village
church ; and the milk maids, returning from the
fields, would now and then overhear her, sing-
itig some plaintive ditty in the hawthorn walk.
She became fervent in her devotion at church :
and as the old people saw her approach, so wast-
etl away, yet with a hectic gloom, atid that liai-
lowed air, which uielaiiclioly diffuses round the
form, they would make way for her, as for -a
thing spiritual, and, looking after her, would
shake their heads in gloomy forebodings.
She felt a conviction that she was hastening to
the tomb. but looked forward to it as a place of
rest. The silver cord that had bound her ex-
istence was loosened, and there seemed to be no
more pleasure under the sun. If over her gen-
tle bosom had entertained resentment against
her lover, it was extinguished. She was inca-
pableof angry passions; and in a moment of
saddened tenderness, she penned him a farewell
lettes. It was couched in the simplest language
btit toticliing from its very simplicity. She told
him that she was dying, and did not conceal
from him that his conduct was the cause. She
even depicted the sufferings which she had ex-
perienced; but concluded by saying, that she
could not die in peace, until she had sent him
her forgiveness and her blessing. _
By degrees her strength declined, so that she
could no longer leave thc Cottage. She count?
only ioiter to‘tue window, where, propped up in
her chair, it was her enjoyment to sit all day and
look out upon the landscape. Stillslie uttered
no complaint, nor imparted to any one the mal-
ady which was preying upon her heart. She
never even mentioned her lover's name; but
would lay her head on her mother’s bosom and
weep in silcnce.- Her poor parents hung in
mute anxiety over this fading blossom of their
hopes, still flattering themselves that it might
agapi revive to freshness, and that the brinht
unearthly bloom which sometimes flushed lier
cheek, might be the promise of returning
health.
In this way she was seated between them
one Sunday afternoon, her hands clasped in
theirs, the lattice was thrown open, and the soft
air that stole in brought with it the fragrance of
the honeysuckle which her own hands had train-
ed round the window.
Her father had just been reading a chapter in
the Bible: it spoke of the vanity of worldly
things and of the joys of heaven : it seemed to
have diffused comfort and serenity through her
bosom.——I-Ier eye was fixed on the distant vil-
lage church; the bell tolled for evening service;
the last villager was lagging into the porch and
every thing had sunk into that hallowed still-
ness peculiar to the day of rest. Her parents
were gazing on her with yearningliearts. Sick-
ness and sorrow, which pass so roughly over
some faces, had given her’s the expression of a
serapli’s. A (car trembled in her soft blue eye.
\Vas she thinking of her faitliless lover?—or
were her thougts wandering to that distant church
yard, into whose bosom she might soon be gath-
ered ?
Suddenly the clang of lioofs was lieard-—a
horseinangallopcd to the cottagc—he dismoun-
ed before the wiiidow——the poor girl gave afaint
exclamation, and sunk back into her chair; it
washer repentant loverl He pushed into the
house, and flew to clasp her to his bosom; btit
her wasted forni—-—lierdeathlike countenance—so
wan; yetso lovely in its dcsolation,—siiiote him
to the soul, and he threw himself in agony at
her feet. She was too faint to rise—she attempt-
ed to extend her trembling liand—herlips mov-
ed as if she spoke, but no word was articulated
—slie looked down upon him with a look of tin-
utterable tenderness—and closed her eyes forev-
er!
Such are the particulars which I gathered
from this villagestory. They are but scanty,
audI am conscious have little novelty to reco-
metid them. In the present rage, also, lbr strange
incident and liiglily-seasoned narrative, they may
appear trite antlin itisignificant, but they inter-
ested inc strongly at the time; and taken in con-
nexion with the affccting ceremony which I had
just witnessed, left a deeper impression on my
mind than many circumstances of a more stri-
kingnaturc. Iliave passed through the place
since, and visited the church again, from a bet-
ter motive than mere curosity. It was a wintry
cvt-,niiig ; tlietrecs were stripped of their foliage
the church yard looked naked atid uiournful,
and the wind rustled coldly through the dry grass
Evergrceus, however, had been planted about
the grave of the village favorite, aiitl osiers were
bent over it to keep the turf ui'iinjt:red.
The clitircli door was opened, ia_;‘,,} I stepped.
l"' Tllcm hung ‘he Clmlllfii of flowers and the
é~'l0"C5 35 0” llle (l.'.‘.y of funeral : the flowers
l“'9fe ‘VlfllC|’9.‘.'., it is-true, but care seemed to have
‘"30" l.'.i:tcti that no dtist should soil.thei'r white-
ness. .l have seen ir.an,y monuments, where
art has exaustcd its 'p'ow'c'rs to awakcii the sym-
patliics of the. spectator; but I li'av‘e ‘met none
which speak more toncliitigly To 'i'iiy heart, than
this simple, but delicate nieirieiito of departed in-
noc‘eii'c'c.
-......
MISCELLANY.
IJEAP YEAR AND L.-turns’ Pi=.iviLi=:t~.r—i.--’l‘lie
corniugycar,1836, will be leap yeal‘. as any
person may see by consuliii any almauack.
It willbc Z1l]ll1’ll"|0l‘lulllA ye: ~iutorcsts of
unmarried ladies, and no less so to unmarried
gentlemen—or, wliatinterests the one, is also fa-
ted to interest the other. The ladies next year,
will have the sole privilege of making love,
which the gentlemen may not refuse, under the
most severe penalties. To prove this to be the
case, and that it is no new thing, nor owes its
rise to any of the extravagant notions of modern
times, we will give an extract from an old vol-
ume, printcd in the year of Grace 1606, and en-
titled “Courtship, Love, and Matrimonie” :-
“Albeit, it is no-tve becouie a parte ofthc coni-
rntin Lawe, in regard to the social relations of
life, that as often as every besextile year doth
return, the ladves have the sole privilege, during
the time it coiitinueth, of making love unto the
men, which they may doe either by wordes or
lookes, as unto them itseemetli proper; and
moreover no man will be entitled to the benefit
of Clergy, who dotlie refuse to accept the offers
of a ladye, or who dothe in any wise treate her
proposal with slight or contumely.”
So long ago as the above was printed, it will
be seen to have been a “partc of the Cominun
Lawe,” that the ladies should have the privil-
edge——aud not only so—but the sole privilegc——
of making love, every fourth year; and what
was then binding as common law, is equally
binding now, since it has never been superseded
by any stattite.
\Ve thought it incumbent upon us as editors,
who have the welfare and liappiness of our read-
ers at heart, to give this early information on a
most important subject. It is now, November
10, but little more than six weeks to the com-
mencement of Leap Year.
“And Time will soon that distance 1eap.”
The love-making privilege of the “lords of
creation” will then be stispcnded, and so contin-
ue for one long year of 366 days. They can-
iiot make love during all that tedious interval,
nor can they refusca lady who makes love to
them. -
This, to gentlemen who have a taste for gal-
lantry, and we are particulary tenacious of what
is usually considered the male privilege, will be
an unpleasant reverse of the order of things;
while to your very dffident or indolent gentle-
men, who want resolution or activity for the ar-
duous duty of courtship, it will be a change no
less pleasant than interesting.
To the latter we need say nothing, but that
they have before them a year of hope, wherein
they may cast off their single blessedness, pro-
vitlcd always they cati nerve themselves to the
acceptance of such ladies as heaven, or their
own inclinations, may send to solicit their hands
To the fortiier we would say, “Gentlemen, if
you would not be wooed, you have now six
weeks before you, wherein you may go a woo-
iug. after which, if yoti let this time slip, you
must make up your mind to take such dear crea-
ttires as come a wooing you—or—saiis alterna-
tive !—die without benefiit of Clergy.” This is
all we need say to gentlemen, who, being thus
forewarned, if they do not make the best use of
time filltl cii'euinSlnn(':D, will have no Cause I
lay the blame upon us. »
To the ladies we beg leave to say, the next
year is yours; and if you have never yet made
love, it will be your privilege to do so, for the
whole of the year. You need have no scruples
as tothe certainty of your rights. They rest
upon the “Common Lawe,” which has been in
power ever since the days of Queen Elizabeth,
and we know not how much longer. Those
rights are very atiiple—tliey not only allow you
to make love, btit they also makeitobligatory on
the t‘lords of creation" to accept of your offers.
How far you shall insist upon the exerise of
your privilege, depends on yourselves. Your
power, for one whole year, will be absolute ;
and if you choose, you may revenge yourselves
by making love to such gentlemen as ought long
since to have made love to you. This you will
be perfectly justified in doing; and the lordly
delinquents cannot, as they ought not to, say
nay.
But, inasmuch as your power is absolute, it
will become you to exercise it gently. Hear
what Portia says of the quality of mercy :
“It is not strained ;
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the plain beneath : it is twice blessed ;
It blessetli him that gives and him that takes.”
\Vith these brief remaaks, we commend you
to the year 1836 ; which we hope you will “so
use as not abusing it, remembering that the
fashion thereof passetli away ;" and that, ifthis
important year be mispent, you will have to wait
until the year 1840 for the recurrence of your
quad reiinial privilege.-— Trrmscript.
LEARNING A TnAnii.—What shall be the
future destination in life of thatyouth who has
just quitted the shades of the Academy or the
hunibler walks ofthc common school ; whether
he shall study a learned profession, devote liim-
selft.o merchandise. or serve an apprenticeship
to so_rne useful trade, is an important qtiestion
to himself and his friends. Such is the flex-
ibility ofthe human mind, that, in most instances,
it can accommodate itself to that particular cal-
ling or accupation chosen for its exercise. In
a few instances, indeed, .so strong and decided is
the bentoftlie mind for one profession over every
other, that the controlling influence offriends is
here exerted injuriously rather than beneficially.
Btit, with the exception hereiinplied to a gener-
al rule, we believe the experiance ofthe world
proves two things, viz :---I. That the parents
or friends ofa young person are at least compe-
tent judgesof that profession or occupation by
which he is in after life to become a useful and
respectable member of society ;happy in himself
and diffusing happiness around him :-—-2. That
they act wisely in making an early choice of
his profession since he leartis betinics to consider
it the iiistrunieiitor means ofhis future advance-
ment, and sum concciitrate the power and affec-
tions of his intellectual and moral natiire unor.
a subject which is of so fI'1l'lCl1l!‘[)p()r[;1n.gc 1,; },j,',,_
These reasons which would w;—',i boar enlarging
“P0”: lmluc“. USIO Cllosetit from the con‘cl'-ading
P3” ‘3ff_1 WC.ll Written article tipon the point,
“L03.'."niiig ‘a Trade." which ’app‘earcd in a late
‘number of the Boston Meclianic: ‘You can
never,” says that paper, “force a trade or a
profession upon a child : it must be naturalto
him.” \Vhat is clearlya force upon achild,
and what isclearly natural to him, are matters
\V’lTl"('ll the writer, as it seenisto us, takes too
'l'i'z'tstily for granted. A gentle constraint, when
‘it is brought about by persuasion, upon the will
of ayoiing person, is tiotflzrec; neither is that
inclination, which sometimes leads a youth to
prefer one profession or trade to another, any
proof thatthe object preferred is natural to him.
lnclination, indulged without controul, has sonic-
timcs led to such a dissipation of the mental
factilties amongst a diversity of piirstiits, as ul-
timatelyto failofproducing in any one profes-
sion or calling any oftliose fruits whlcli in blus-
som had seemed to promise so fair toevery eye.
The story of Polyphilus, in tho Rambler, will be
reoollected as bieng to the purpose. "I have
often throught," continues Dr. Joltnsuii in. coin-
ment upon this story, “those happy that have
been fixed, from the first dawn of thought, in a
determination to some state oflife, by the choice
ofouc whose authority may preclude a caprice,
atid whose influence may prejudice them in
favour of his opinion. The general preceptof
consulting the genius is oflittle use, unless we
are told how the genius can be known. Ifthis
is to be discovered only by experiment, life‘ will
be lost before the resolution can be fixed ; if tiny
otlieriudications are tobe fotind, they may, per-
liaps, be very early discerned." Tlieillustrioas
author of the Rambler, after fortifying his
opinoins with further arguments, concludes with
the observation, that of two states oflife, he who
chooses earliesi, chooses best.——Balt. Gaz.
MESSAGE
PROD! 'l‘IiE
PRESIDEMT or THE UNITED
STATE&
TO THE TWO HOUSES OF
CONGRESS.
Diaciziitimit, 1835.
Fellow citizens of the Senate
and Ifouscof Represen.tal~ivcs :
In the discharge of my ofiicial duty, the task
again devolves upon me, of communicating
witlia new congress. The reflection that the
representation ofthc Union has been recently re-
newed arid that the constitutional term of its
service will expire with my own, heightens the
solicitude with which I shall attempt to lay be-
fore it the state of our national concerns, and the
devout hope whcili I cherisli,tliat its labors to
improve them may be crowned with success.
You are assembled at a period of profound in-
terest to the American patriot. The unexam-
pled growtli atitl prosperity ofour country, hav-
ttig given its rank in the scale of nations, which
removes all apprehension of danger to our inte-
grity and independence from external foes, the
career of freedom is before us, with an earnest
from the past, that, if true ttTo'urselves, there
can be no formidable obstacles in the future, to
its peaceful and uninterrupted pursuit. Yet, in
proportion to the disappearanceto apprehensions
which attended our weakness, at once contrast-
ed with some of the states of the old world,
should we now be solicitous as to those which
belong to the conviction, that it is to our own
condtict that we must look for tliepreservation
of those causes, on which depend the excellence
and the duration of our happy system of gov-
ernment.
In the cxample of other systems, founded on
the willof the people, we trace to internal dis-
sension the influences which have so often blast-
-ed the hopes of the friends of freedom. The so-
cial elements, which were strong and successful
when united against external danger, failed in
the more difiicult task of properly adjusting
their own internal organization, and thus gave
way the great principle of self govenment Let
us trust that this admonition will never be forgot-
ten by the Government of the People of the
United States; and that the testimony which
our experience thus far holds out to the great
human fauiily, ofthe practicability and the bles-
sings of free government will be confirriietl in
all time to come.
We have but to look at the state of our agri-
culture, and commerce, and the nnexampled
increase of our population, to feel the magnitude
of the trust coininitted to us. Never, in any
former period of our history. have we had
greater reason than we now have, to be thankful
to Divine Providence forthe blesings of health
atitl general prosperity. Every branch of labor‘
we see crowned with the most abundant reward
in every element ofnational resources and wealth
and _ofindividual cotnfort, we witness the most
rapid and solid improvement-—-With no inter-
ruptions of this pleasing prospect at home,
which will not yeild to the spirit of harmony
and good will tliatso strkiiigly pervades the mass
ofthc people in every quarter, amidst all the di-
versity of interests and pursuits to which they
are attached; and witlicause of solicitude in
regard to our external affairs, which will not, it
is hoped, disappear before the principles of situ-
ple justice and the forbearance that mark outin-
tercourse with foreign powers,---we have every
reason to feel proud of our beloved country.
The general state of our Foreign Relations. has
not materially changed since my last annual mes-
sage.
In the settlement of the question of the north-
eastern boundary, little progress has been made
Great Britian has declined acceediugto the prop-
osition of the United States. prescntedin accord-
ance with the rcsolutioti of the Setiale, unless
certaiti preliminary conditions were admitted.
which I deemed iincotnpatible with a satisfacto-
ry antl rightful adjustment of the controvesy.
\Vaiting for some distinct proposal from the gov-
ernment of Great Brtiain, which has been in-
vited, I can only repeat the expression of my
confidence, that with the strong mutual disposi-
tion which 1 think exists, to make ajust a:r..inge-
inent, this perplexing question can. be, settled
with a due regard to the well founded preten-
sions and pacific policy of all the parties to it.
Events are frequently occurring on the northeast-
eru frontier, of a character to impress upon
all the necessity of a speedy and deliinite ter-
mination ofthe dispute. This consideration ad-
ded to the desire common to both, to relieve the
liberal and friendly relations so happily existing
between the two countrys from all cnibarrass-
nient, will no doubt, have its just influence tip-
on both.
Ourdiploinatic intercourse with Portugal has
been renewed, anti it is expected that the claims
of our citizens, partially paid, will be fully sat-
isfied as soon as the Conditions of the Queen's
government will permit the proper attention to
to the subject oftliem.
That government has, I am happy to inform
you, manifbsted a determination to act upon lib-
eral principles which have inarketl our commer-
cial polic_v——the happiest effects upon the futu re
trade between the United States and Portugal,
are anticipated from it,and the time is not thought
to be remote when asystelil of perfect reprocity
will be established. ‘
The instalments tltie under the convention
with the king of the Two Sicilies, have been
paid with that scrupulous fidelity by "which his
whole conduct has been ‘characterized, and the
hope is indulged, that the adjtistmciit of the vex-
ed question of our claims will be followed by a
more extended and mutually beneficial inter-
course between the two c‘ou'ntries.
The internal contest still continues in Spain.
—Distingtiishcd as this struggle has tinhappily
been, by iticidentsof the most sanguiuary char-
acter. the obligations of the late treaty of in-
demnification witlrus have been. nevertheless,
faithfully executed by the Spanish government
No provision having been at the last. session
of congress for tho ascertainment of the claims
to be paid, and the apportionment of the funds,
.under the convention lna;tZl9\;’1\’ill1 Spain,
your early attention to the subject. The pub-
lic evidences of the debt have, according to the
terms ofthc convention, and in the forms pre-
scribed by it, been placed in the possession of the
United States, and the interest as it fell due, has
been regularly paid upon them. Our commer-
cial intercourse with Cuba stands as regulated
by the act of Congress. -No recent information
has been received as to the disposition of the
‘ government of ‘ Madrid ou~this subject, and the
lamented death of our recently appointed min-
ister, on his way to Spain, with the pressure of
their affairs at home, renders it scarcely possi-
ble that any change is to be looked for during
‘ the coming year. Further portions of the Flor-
ida archives have been sentto the United States,
although the death of one of our commissioners,
at a critical moment, embarrassed the progress
of the delivery of them. The higher officers
of the local government have recently shown
an anxious desire, in compliance with the orders
from the parent government, to facilitate the se-
lection and delivery of all we have a right to
claim. _ ,
Negotiations have been opened at Madrid, for
the estabiishment of a lasting peace between
Spain and such of the Spanish American gov-
ernments of this hemisphere, as have availed
themselvesof the invitation given to alljof them,
of the disposition of Spain to treat upon the ba-
sis of their entire independence. It is to be re-
gretted, that simultaneous appoitntments, by all
of ministers to negotiate with Spain, had not
been made; the negotiation itself would have
been simplified, and this long-standing disptite
spreading overa large portion ofthe world would
have been brought to a more speedy conclu-
sion.
Our political and commercial relations with
Austria, Prussia, Sweeden, antl Denmark, stand
on the usual favorable bases. One of the arti-
cles of our treaty with Russia in relation to the
trade on the Northwest coast ofAmerica having
expired, instructions have been given to our
Minister at St. Petersburgh, to negotiate a re-
newal ofit. The long and unbroken amity be-
tween the two Governments, gives every reason
for supposing the article will be renewed if
stronger motives do not exist to prevent it than,
with our view of the subject, can be anticipated
here. ,
I ask your attention to the message of my pre-
decessor at the opening of the scccond session of
the nineteenth Congress, relative to our cornmer-
cial intercourse with Holland, and to the docu-
tneiits connected with that subject, communi-
cated to the House of Representatives on the
10th of January, 1825, and 18th of January,
1827.
Coinciding in the opinion of my predecessor,
that Holland is not, under the regulations ofher
present system. eutitlediohave her vessels and
their cargoes received into the United Stats on
the footing ofAmerican vessels and cargoes as
regards tlutics of tonnage and inipost, a respect
for his referent-.e of it to the Legislature. has
alone prevented me from acting on the subject.
Isliould still have waited, without comment, for
the action of Congress, but recently a claim has
been made by Belgian subjects to admission in-
to our ports for their ships’aud cargoes, on the
same footing as American, with the allegation
we could not dispute, that our vessels received
in their ports the identical treatment shown to
them in the ports of Holland, upon whose ves-
sels no discrimination is made in the ports ofthe
United States. Giving the same privileges, the
Belgians expected the same benefits—benefits
that were in fact enjoyed when Belgium and
Holland were united under one goverutnent.
Satisfied with thejustice of their pretension to
be placed on the same footing with Holland, _I
could not, nevertheless, without disregard to the
principle of our laws, adiuit their claim to be
treated as Americans; and at the same time a
respect for Congress to whom the subject had
long since been referred, has prevented me from
producing ajust equality, by taking from the
vessels ofI-Iollaud privileges conditionally gratit-
ed by acts of Congress. although the condition
upon which the grant was matte, has, in lI'f~_‘7"*"_i‘l
judgment, failctl since 1822. I recommended,
therefore a review ofthe act of 1824, and such a
modification ofit, as will produce an equality, on
such terms as Congress shall think best coin-
ports with our settled policy, and the obligations
ofjustice to two friendly powers.
Witlithe Sublime Porte, and all the govern-
ments on the coast of Barbary, our relations con-
tinue to be friendly. The proper steps have been
taken to renew our treaty with Mexico.
The Argentine Republic has again promised
to send within the current year, a Minister to
the United States. . '
A Convention with Mexico for extendingtlie
tiuie for the appointment ofcommissioners to run
the boundary line has been conluded, and will be
submiterl tothe Senate. Recent eventsinthat
country have awakened the liveliest solicitudein
the United States, Aware of the strong tempta-
tions existing, and powerful inducements held out
to the citizens of the United States, to mingle in
the dissensions of ottr immediate neighbours, in-
structious have been given to the District At-
torneys of the United States, where indications
warranted it, to prosecute, without respect to
persons, all who might attempt to violate the
obligations of our neutrality : while, at the same
timeit has been thought necessary to apprise
the Government of Mexico that we should re-
quire the integrity ofou territory to be scrupu-
lously respected byboth partirs.
From our diplomatic agents in Brazil, Chile,
Peru, Central America, Venezuela, and New
Grenada, constant assurances are received of
the continued good understanding with thegov-
ernments to which they are severally accredited.
Willi those governirieiits upon which our citi-
zens liave valid and accumulating claims, scarce-
ly an advance towards a seitlment ofthcni is
made, owing mainly to their distracted state,or
to the pressure ofitnperative domestic questions.
Our paitence has been, and will probably be still
further severely tried ; but our fellow citizens
whose interests are involved, may confide in the
determination of the government to obtain for
them, eventually, ample retribution. ,
Unfortunately many of the nations of this
hemisphere are still self tormented by domestic
dissensions. Revolution succeeds revolution,
injuries are coniniitterl upon foreigners engaged
in lawful pursuits, much time lapses before a
government sufficiently stable is erected to
justify expectation ofredress—niinisters are sent
aiitl received, and before the discussions of past
injuries are fairly begun, fresh troubles arise;
but too frequently newinjuries are added to the
old, to be discussed together, with the existing
government, after it has proved its ability to
sustain the assults made upon it, or with its
successor, ifoverthrowu. If this unhappy con-
dition of things continue much longer other‘na-
tioiis will be under the puiriful necessityot de-
ciding whetlier justice to their sulicring tritizens
does not require a prompt redress ofinjuries by
tlicirown power, without waiting forthc estab-
lishment of a government competent and en.-
during enough to discuss and to make satisfac,
tioii forlliem.. . . _
Sitice the last session of Congress, the validity
ofour claims upon France, as liquidated by the
treaty of 1831, has been acknowledged by both
branches of her I_~egislatut‘.6. and the money has
been appropriatetl for their discli£iT§;.fi3 bl}! ll‘?
paytnciit is, Ircgret to inform you, still witheld.
A brief iecapitulation ofthe inost‘ important
iucit'ents in this protracted controversy. Will
show how utterly untenable are the grounds
upon which this course is attempted to be justi-
fied.
On ‘entering up_ou the duties of my station,
I found the United States an unsuccessful ap_-.
plicant to thejustice of Franrze, l‘o'r the satisfac-
tion ef claims, the validity of which was never
qtiestionable, and has now been most solemnly
admitted by France herself. The antiquity of
these claims, their high justice, antl the aggrava-.
tiug cirumstances out of which they arose. are
.
. » u .
I invite“
too familial: to -the Amirican people to req!1iT6
il9s¢rit1ti2i!- It is 8
Norwalk Chronicler