Norwalk Chronicler

Norwalk Gazette, Wednesday, December 4, 1839 · page 1

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TWO DOLLARS
voLUMic xxiii.
 

PER ANNUM, PAYAB,LE IN

LL

 

*a¢.eA_..

ADVANCE

NORWALK, or. tvisnuasnnr, uaoaiyraan 4.. 1.83%.

QFFICE W’

N I

._~§..—..

EST SIDE THE Baipoagova

R I-lOYT’S STORE.

_.l

 ~:rnsnomv.:.i.’ GAZETTE
I Is Ilublis/zed
EVERY VVEDNESDAY MORNING,

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

‘F
-1

 

BY
JAMES REED. -111..

 

IPBRMB.--'I.’\VO dollars per annnm. payable in
all cases. quarterly in rtdcaocc.

To subscribers who live “out of the Carrier's
district and call at the Office for their papers,
31 50 per year. tfpaiclin azltxince-—-otherwise
‘t $2 will be charged. Mail subscribers $2 per
I I annum, payable in advance. Nouthers attenti-

ed to. To companies of six. or more, receiving

their papers by mail, $1 50, payttltle altogether,
in advance. '
Executor‘s and Administrator's Notices. 3 in-
sertions, $1-—Comntissioner's notices, $1 25.
Yearly advertise-ts. one square, $10 per annum,
(payable quarterly in advance. The privilege
of yearly advertisers is limited to their own im-
mediate business—-all extra advertisements will
the charged at the usual rates. All other adver .
\ tisementeat the rate of $1 per squarefoi 3 inser-
“.t_io,ns. and 25"cente for each subsequent insertion.

"'03- All casual advertisements sent to this Of-
fice, should be accompanied by the cash. ’ No
others ‘-will be inserted.

.\ DENTAL NOTICE.
 OCT. A. HILL. tltirltful forthe patronage
- t he has l'.L‘Cl'lV‘.tl in his profession during
nine months past, in Norwalk. bogs leave to in-
form the public, that he still continues a few
doors west ofthe Bridge, in Bnrrall’s Buildings,
where he will be happy at any time to see his
friends, and answer all their calls in Dental
Surgery-
liicurrcptiblc teeth inserted from one to a
tlnll set. Also, tceth clt-aurcd. separated. ex.

tracted. 5§c., and all these diseases of the teeth
attendt-d to,-tvhich, if snfft-rt d to contit ne, are

 

§., _ A NUMBER 3.’,
POETRY. ii’ '4‘-——"'-5'-

From the Richmoncl ll'7iig.
FAME.
BY A ’.l.'Y1‘E-6E’1"l‘E!l.

What is the love of Faint?
A dazzling dream;
A grasping for renown-a
To have a name
To gleam
'I‘hro' all the days uflime--
To chime.
Like music on the eareof men. or poor
A bfiafng
Pcrelicmce, ihro’ all tradltionnry lore.

\Vlience doth this passion spring?
This scathing fire?
Clo. ask Ambition‘: glow,
Repose to bring;
Desire,
That oft consumes the soul.
T’ enroll
A name with those of lofty birth or claim.
And higher
To clitnb the mountofvisionary fame.

Fame is a worthless boon.
Wherefur found;
A strong, but dangerous lure,
Which faileth soon;
A sound
That changes oft as zepliyrs change.
How strange
That men their proudest energies consume
Around their brow
To twine this wreath of transitory bloom.

Delusion's brightest star,
\Vith lucid ray.
That through Time's vista seems
To gleam afar,
And play
In fullest zenith on the mind!
How liliiitl
Are those who in the chase neglect the sort].
To find -

proilnctjyc of so much iiiisclticf. A
I I.’¢_.fcrences.—Einc-ry Bissell, M. D.z J. D._
M‘I.--an, M. 1).: Hon. 'l‘ltoint1_s 8. Butler;'
Hon. B--iijamin lanacs. Norwaik. Nclicriii:-.lit
_ Perry, M. D. Ridgrticltl. R B. Btitsfortl, M,
D; "Duct. D. P. Knapp‘. Dztiibury. Duct.
llmy.-ll Rodgers, CulCllC‘Sl.t‘r. Ct. Williatiil
\Vitter. M. D. VVilliaman‘ic, Ct.
July '20. I839.
‘ CONS U311’ TION CURED,
' Y DR. GREGORY’S BALSAM OF
Ll.VER\V()li;l‘.—*.Dl'. Gregory. 180 Al-
len street. New York. has long expericrict-tl the
most utiiforut StttI('€as in the (‘NFC ol'pon~urnpt§up
by the use of his coziipountl Bttlsillll of I,-ix er-
vrort, Wlorehoutttl and f‘lt~uris_y Root, and at
the l'(‘p(.‘ulHl and eertit-st snlitritatious of his
frietitls. and among wlttiltt are miiiiy eiiiincni
rncdical fe|’.t(:lillt'lll'r‘l“5 ; has at length cuiisented
to' prepare it in largerqnztiitilies than llt‘_r(‘l()li)t‘t'
and advertise it. that the public in general
might be henefitied by sovalmible and llet:t's_!t)f)’

 

an article as this really i-', in the cure of llll> .

-' ‘hitherto formidable disease. For sale wholesale

and retail, by A. B. &. D. Suntls, No 79 and
100 Fulton st. N. Y. also at retail by M. U.
l " Burrell 210 Chathaiii sir.-ct. ti. g?,:.l. L‘.uddiiig-
l tun. Spring street, corner of Hutlsoti. and by lllt‘

L

DQCt0f at ill-K’ resitlruce 180 Allen street. where
applications for iiacttcirs Me sulitriletl, if by
mail. direct box 794. New York. l’. 0.. and to
bc pug.‘ paid. Au ugeut is wunlerl in this town.
R,t:a(_l the following certificates andjudgc for
yourself. , .
NPR’ York. August 33. IEBD.
[gin homl.y certify that I cotiitiieiict.-t=l takiiig
Dr. Gregory’p (loirtptiniitl Bulsutii of Liverwurt
‘uufi Pl.-uri.-4y Rout ahotit four inonthsiigo. for the
cutiuumpiion,-witli which I had been laid tip a
lung titize, but now I am a well healthy man.
’ Joitx BU'l’I,l-:1.‘,, No. 77 James at,

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

. New York. Atigiist, 1839.
Dr. Grn.g..r)-—.—'l)cnt'sir, Your ffniiipotiiitl Bul-
aag; of Liverwort has been the means of saving
my lift:-—l was fast approacliiog my end by the
unhle ttomplyitil of Ctittstttiiptiiitt will Lllef
aint. I have taken live bottles. and l ant
h ltetiertlttit l have resumed my busi-
fiiiieliing] but l shall continue the use
alsatn for some time tocoriie.
J45. V. Row;-rzv.
Nassau st, near tiie Navy yard, Brooklyn.
Q -—n
Dr. Grcgory—.-Sir, after suffering for about
two years with a severe cough and raising of
phlegm. with a severe pain in the breast and
side, I was inducetl hy~the advice of a friend to
try it bottle of your Compound Balsam ofLiver-
wort. and to my great joy in less than a fortnight,
found relief and am now entirely a well titan.
ALEX.-SLOAN.60 Roosevelt st. N. Y.
New York. 28th. 1839. W128

A. B. 4} I) -SANDS

CELEBRATED remedy for Salt Rheum

Ring Worm, Tétter, Eizema, Scalled
Head. Barbers Itch, and all other diseases of
the skin, are cfi"::ctua]ly cured by the use of
Sands’ remedy for Salt Rheum. It has within
a few months cured rising 5000 different cases
ofthe above diseases ofthe skin, and never been
known to fail in eradicating any disease of this
kind where a fair trial has been given.

There is no danger of applying it even to the
tender skin of a young infant. Testimonials ot
its efficacy, both verbal and written, are almost.
' daily received. which can be seen on applies
tion to our agents-

Edwin Porter. merchant, of Fall River, Mass.
certifies that after having been afilicted with the
Salt Rheum. in its severest forms, for several
veers. he was entirely cured by this remedy in
the course ofa few weeks, and has been entirely
free frotn the disease for two years. ..

H. M. Ritterband, of No. 185 Reade streelu
New York, testifies that he was cured of the
Salt Rheum. after using Sande’ reme_dy_onl)’
fiye days; and advises every person similarly
affiicted to use the same medicine. _

Enos Bumiell, of Staten Island, certifies that
um; mgdicine cured his wife of the ‘Salt Rheum
in three weeks ; and says he w_o -ld not hesitate
to pay one hundred dollars fort is medicine if
that was the price, and liis'w-if_e phonld again be
in the same 8ll“.all°ll- ,

. For sale in Nerwelk, by _Cherle§ Issues ;
 Wm.-Q. 124

"V' E t out f'orl8d to 73 pet
 sQa;eoi;£mwhich.sre of a vergsu

 , qpgtity, Also, a‘ large sssortntent of
mar goods rs} men’! ind Y"“lll" °PP—"°l'

B34 l_lER'TEENS .;~ gg.4Ng up cairn. t

rainy” ;, ,. S1-rrvirivs av. CItOt6fl1.1O

 

This ignis-fatuos, tho’ they gain the whole.

Fume, with her treacherous smiles,
In devious way s.
Thrtitigli which she oft her slaves
To death beguiles,
Displays
A glittering cup of nectar sweet,
To tiiect.
The lips oftliose who court the worthless prize,
And lays
Aiiibrosial fruit before their eager eyes.

But ilzisli the cup away;
Flee every snare.
And in her dangerous paths
No longer slay;
But there,
liitpt-rislizibly sure.
Secure
A glorious iiiiuiortality on high,
\\' here

but utters them in vain. The love of a bus-
band can be retained only by ‘the high opin-
ions which he entertains of his wife’s good-
ness of heuit, of her amiable disposition, of
her sweetness, of her prudence, of her devo-
tion to him. Let nothing, tipon any occa-
sion, even lessen that opinion. On the con-
trary, it should augment every day; he
should have much more reason to admire
her for those excellent’. qualities which will
cast a lustre over virtuous woman when her
personal attractions are no more.

Has your husband stayed out longer than
you expected? ‘When he returns, receive
him as the partner of your heart. Has he
disappointed you in something you expected,
whether of ornament or of furniture, or any
convenience? Never evince discontent; re-
ceive his apology with cheerfulncss. Does
be, when you are a housekeeper, invite coin-
pany without informing you of it, or bring
home with him a friend? VVhatever may
be your repast, however scanty it may be, or
how impracticable it may be to add to it, re-
ceive them with a pleasing countenance,
adorn your table with cheerfulness, give to
your husband and your company a hearty
welcome,‘ it will tnore than compen=ate for
every other deficiency: it will evince love
for your husband, good sense in yourself, and
that politeness of manners which acts as the
most powerful charm. lt will give-to the
plainest farea zest superior to all that luxu-
ry can boast. Never be discontented on any
occasion of this nature.

In the next place. as your husb:ind’s suc-
cess in his profession will depend upon his
popularity, and as the manners of a wife has
no little influence in extending or lessening
the respect and esteem of others for her hus-
band, you should take care to be affable and
polite to the poorest as well as the richest.-—
A reserved haughtiness is a sure indication
of a weak mind and an unfeeling heart.

\Vitb respect to your servants, teach them

.plan was discovered, and armed with loaded

ped by bug or worm; and oh! be gloried when
he stood among them, likea fatlicrin the
midst of his childeren, and srttvtheir striped
backs grow broader and rounder, beneath the
genial influence of the summer: sun. At
length it became evident to Reuben that wolves
entered his fold-each morn some six or eight
striped backs were among the missing, leav-
ing no trace of their former location behind,
save an impression on the ground,_ l-ikc the
print ofa departed hog in a mudbolc. This
was not to be borne. Reuben gloried in his
melons, and thought ofthe dollars they tvoiiltl,
have brought him; and his spirit was stirred
to vengeance. Determining to place the re-
mainder out of all danger before e.\jccuti,ng
this scheme of rcvengc,_ he plucked all that
were ripe, or nearly so, and placed them away
carefully in an upper room of his clomicil.
Unfortunately for him this movement was
observed by an idle wandering boy. (one of
the thieves.) who, suspecting his intention.
hastened to communicate it to his fellows.
They, alarmed at the prospect of losing
their plunder, and determined to outwit the
master, immediately held it secret council, in
which a plan was suggested and plot laid;
the result will be found in the sequel.

Night had thown bet‘ mantle over the
earth, and all the honest people were at borne
when Reuben anticipatinga foray, and chuck-
ling over his ingenuity, unaware that his

pistols,emerged from his back door,and creep-
ing along in the shadow, at length deposit-
ed himself and hi_s artillery in the fence
corner-—determined to blaze away at the
first intruder upon his premises. All was
still—-not a mouse or a cricket disturbed the
silence, but Reuben slept not. " Solitary
and alone,” he sat like a grim sentinel on
some belcagured rampart, unconscious that
the enemy were at his gates l Alas l could
he have beheld the scene transacting. on the
other side of the house, how would his blood

to respect and love you, while you expect
from them a reasonable discharge of their
respective duties. Never tease yourself or
them, by scolding, it has no other effect than
to render them discontented and impertincnt.
Admonish them with a calm firmness.

Cultivate your mind by the perusal of
those books which instruct while they amuse.

there are a few which may be useful and im-

and to produce a disrelisli for substantial in-
tellectual food.

ter. History, geography, poetry, moral es-

have boiled within his veins! Slowly and
silently a party of fifteen or twenty boys ap-
proached the.win_dow in Indian file ; a ladder
is planted, the window is raised, their leader
enters, a line is formed, and melon after melon

m0§l \\'im_ting and mysterious magic, takes
her seat _]tJSl. opposite. It is the farmer's
daughter! A lively creature of eighteen.
.F:‘tll‘ as the lily, fresh as May dew, rosy as
the rose itself, graceful as the peacock perch-
ed 01.1. the Pillvs there by the window; sweet
as a posy of violets and ‘clove gillivcrs;’
modest as early morning, and amiable as
your own imaginzition of Dcsdemona or Ger-
trude. of’ lVyoiiiing. You are lost! It’s all
over with you. I wouldn’t give an empty
filbert,.or a frog bitten sttmvberry, for your
peace of mind, if that glittering‘ creature be
not as pitiful as she is fair. And that comes
of going into the country, out of the way of
'{lI]ll}' and temptation; and fimcying farm
houses only nice old fashioned places of old
fasbioiiccl contentment. Ay, many a one has
found, to his S0l't‘O\\', what misting himself
arnoiig barrel chorus, and rows of bee hives,
has cost him. I
His resolutions of bachelor independence
have been whirled round and round, and re-
solved themselves into melting butter; he has
been siting by the queen bee, in the eye, and
has felt all over pangs and twinges, as ifthe
whole swarm had got into his bosom. Then
has come a desperate liking to that part of
the country: the taking that neat cotage jtist
outoftbe village, with its honeysuckle porch,
and willow arbor by the brook ; the sauntcring
down the foot path that leads past the farm, on
a sui_nmer’s evening, with a book of poetry in
the hand, the seat on the stile at the bottom
ofthe wood ; the _s_utl_den looking up-—-‘ How
sweet that farm house does look! “(but
fine old trees those are about it! And the
dear little tvindotv in the old gable, with its
open casement and diamond panes. And,
oh! surely! yes-_-that is Anne herself, and
I think she is lookirigtbis way l’ Then fol-
low the sweetest walks down by the mill;
the sweetest moonliglit wanderings along
that old quince wal,k—_-_-such vows! such po-
e-try of passion ! such hopes and p_i‘oini.3es of
felicity; and then the old fartncij looks over
the hedge, and says, ‘ Who’s there ‘.2’ There,
this is a pretty go! Offgoes Anne, like the
spirit ofa young lampligher, up the garden,
through the house, tip the stairs at three

is passed hand to hand, like buckets at a fire,
till all are deposited in the valley below, to bi.-
removed at leisure. The enemy departed

Do not devote much of your time to novels; unseen and unheard: the garrison slumberetl to 3 ch,,;,.' ;, ,-S 3 ,.

undisturbed, when Reuben, unconscious of

bad climbed to her meridian, the stars winked,

Most plays have the some and Reuben nodded; when lo! a wandering .00 b
cast; they are not friendly to delicacy which Jackass, mistaking him for a slumberipg bro-
is one of the oruuincnts of the female cb;i_i‘ac- ther. put his head over the fence to salute

him i lifting up his trumpet voice, be poured

Bll*S""0e"-“lllt-’.ll"“'5~8"‘l Pleasures "°"‘*"‘ll9l says, biography. travels. sermons, and other his unearthly " W}too~ee aw aw-/tow tw/tee-aw

iuisci31.i..\N\'.

T-
..:_.._..._.4.. _ __ _ _

The following is one of the most charm-

well written religious productions, will not wliee-aw,” into Reuben’s afliited ear. ‘Reu-
fuil to enlarge your understanding, to render ben
you it more agreeable companion, and to ex- bang, went the pistols; away ran the jackass,
alt your virtues. A woman devoid of rattion- and away ran the schoolmaster, the one bring-

started, stumbled, and fell-—-bang,

ing lt-tiers we have read in a long time.— .1] ideas of religion, has no security for her big up against a board fence, and the other

\Vivt-s, and those who expect to become wives.
should read it—ti'easurc up the beautiful
maxims it contains, and act in accordance
with its precepts. The result would be that
their homes would he as ncararcsemblance
to lluratlist-. as any thing enrtlily can.

ADVICIE OF BISHOP MAINSQN
T0 llls ll-".llilG!lTl’3R.i

My Dear Daughtt-r=..—-You have just en-
tered into that state which is replete
with liuppiuctss or misery. The issue de-
pends tipon that prudent, amiable, uniform
conduct, which wisdom and virtue so strong-
ly recommend, an the one hand, or on that
imprudt-nce which it want of rcflection or
passion may prompt on the other.
‘ You are allied to a man of honor, of tal-
cnts, an! of an open, generous disposition.
You have, therefore, in your power, all the
essential ingredients of domestic happiness:
it cannot be marred, if you reflect upon that
system of conduct which you ought invaria-
bly to orsuc=—-if you now see clearly the
path from which you will resolve nevcr to
deviate. Our conduct is often the result of
whim or caprice; often such as will give us
many a pang, unless we see beforehand what
is always most praiscworthy, and the most
essential to happiness.

The first maxim you should follow is, ne-
ver to attempt to control you husband, by op-
position, displeasure, or any other mark of
anger. A man of sense, of prudence, of
warm feelings, cannot, and will not hear an
opposition of any kind, which is attended
with an angry look or expression. The cur-
rent of his affections is suddenly stopped ; his
attachment is weakened; he begins to feel a
mortification the most pungent; be is belit-
tled even in his own eyes; and -be assured.
the wife who once excites those feelings in
the breast of a husband, will never regain
the high ground which she might and ought
to have retained. When he marries her, if
he be a good man, he expects to find her one
who is not to control him ; not to take from
him the freedom of acting as his own judg-
ment shall direct, bnt one who will placésuch
confidence in him, as to believe that his pru-
dence is his best guide. ,I_.,i.tt,le things. what
in reality are mere trifles in tliemselves, of-
ten produce bickerings, and even quarrels.
Never permit them to be a sub ect of dis-
pute; yield them with pleasure, witb a smile
of affection. Be assured that one difference
out-weighs them all a thousand or ten thou-
sand times. A difference with your husband
ought to be considered the greatest calamity ;
as one that is to be stucliotisly guarded
against; it is a"demon which must never be
permitted to enter a’ habit.-it.-ion wber.e all
should be peace; u.riimpai_red confidence. and
heartfelt affection. ‘ Besides, what can 8. W0-
-nan ain'by opposition, or indifference ?—
iNotbing.' But she loses every thing; she
loses her liusb"aiid’s‘ respect for her virtues;
loses hid lbite, and, with that, all prospect of
Eutuiie happiness; She ere, tes her own rais-
ory, and then utters idle an silly complaints.

virtue; it is sacrificed to her passions,wbose
voice, not that of God, is her only governing
principle. Besides, in those hours of calam-
ity, to which families must be exposed, where

reflections upon that all-rtiling Providence
wlllch governs the universe, whether inani-
materl or animated.

Mutual politeness between the most inti-
mate friends is €S_S€_tlllfll to that harmony
which should never be once broken or inter-
rupted. How important is it then between
man and wife! The. more wzirm attachment
the less will either party bear to be sliglstcd.
or treated with the smallest degree of rode-
ness or inattentiort. This politent-‘SS. then. ll
it be not itselfa virtue, it is at least tli. means
of preventing discontent, and even quarrels;
it is the oil of intercourse, it removes asperi

ties, and gives to every thing a smooth. and
even, and a pleasing movement. _

Iwill only add, that matrimonial happi-
ness does not depend upon wealth ; no, it is
not to be found in wealth ; but in minds pro-
perly tempered and united to our r.£',Sp€Cll\'8
situations, Competency in ne.cesfSi1|'_}'; all
beyond that point ideal. Do not .SUPP0.S€.
however, that I would not advise your hus-
band to augment his property by all honest
and commendable means; I would wish to
see him actively engaged in such pursuit.b_e-
cause engagement, a sedulous enjoynient in
obtaining some laudable end, is essential to
happiness. In the attainment of a fortune,
by honorable means, a man derives satisfac-
tion in self-applause, as well as from the in-
creasing estimation in which he is held by
those around him.

In the management of your domestic con-
cerns, let prudence and wise economy pre-
vail. Let neatness, order, and judgment be
seen in all your different departments. _ynite
liberality with a just frugality, always re-
serve sometbing for the hand of charity, and
never let your door he closed to the voice of
suffering humanity. Your servants, in par-
ticular, will bave the strongest claim upon
your charity; let them be wellclothed, nurs-
ed in sickness, and _never let them be unjust,-
ly treated. '

 

From the New Orleans Picayune.
’ REUBEN SMALL.
on true. usiuzic 0U'l‘WIT'l'ED.

In a pleasant Southern town, sojourned
Reuben Sniall’, S,cboolmaster—-a restless, ca-
daverous individual,-—-who some yeat_'S pre-
vious to the date of our story, bademigrated
from somewhere along-shore, in the land of
steady habits. Now Reubemhaving like most
of his countrymen. the organ of acquisitive-
ness remarkably developed, 8.051, l10l_°°ll_l9Dl
with the emoluments derived from his liter

ary station, drove a large and profitable
business in the water melon lipe. The year
in question, his melons were remarkably fine.
ind were in great demand. Reuben guarded
them from infancy to tbefull fruition of mel-
onbood with a pat‘-.ent’s care. He nursed

against his own kitchen door. Rcuben’s face
was soon deluged with blood ; for, as is usual
in such cases, his organ of smelling struck
first. Afirighted, bruised and dirty he scram-

will she find support, if it be not in her just bled in, struck alight, washed his face, and and jafjghmg ;n the ,n0Q;,]_;gh,j H

started to bed; in his way there he passed
through the room in which be bad deposited
his much loved mellons. A single glance
told him they were gone; the open windotv
pointed out the way of their departui‘c.-.-
Truly "misfortunes never come alone,”

fair conducted by the devil and his imps—-the
young chaps having flown away with his
melons, while the old ’un bellowed in his car,
and knocked him down by a kick on the nose
with his club foot. As a confirmation ofthe
truth ofhis story, he is ready to _s\vt=.-at‘ that the
marks _o_f,a hoof were illstinctly visible outside.
the fence; also that the devil started off in a
flash of lightning, with two distinct claps of
thunder, leaving a_. strong smell behind birn.
To those who have read our sory, it is evi-
dent thatthe lightning, thunder and brimstone
proceeded from the pistols, involuntarily dis-
charged by Reuben——-that the boys had out-
wittecl the Yankee, and two Jaclrasses had
frighterid one another.

THE FABM.ER’S DAUGHT.Eli-
Tberels a world of buxom beauty flourish:
ing in the shades of the country. Farm
houses are dangerous places. As you are
thinking only of sheep, or curds, you may
he suddenly shot through by a pair of bright
eyes, and melted away in a betvitcbing smile,
that you never dreampt of till the mischief
was done. In towns and theatres,and throng-
ed assemblies of the rich and titled fair, you
are on your guard; yoti know what you are
exposed to,and put on your breast plates, and
pass through the most deadly onslaught of
beauty—safe and sound. But in those syl-
van retreats, dreaming 0
hearing only the lowing of oxen, you are
taken by surprise Out steps a fair creature,
crosses a glade, leaps a stile; you stand-—
lost in \vo'nder'and astonished admiration;
you take out your tablet to write a sonnet on
the return of the nymphs and tryads to earth,
when up comes John Tompkins, and says:
‘It’s only the farmer’s daughter.’ “What!
have farmers such daughters no\v-a-days ?—
Yes. I tell you they have such daughters-—
tbose farm-houses are dangerous places. Let
no'man with a poetical imagination, which
is but another name for :1 very tindery heart,
flatter himself with fancies of the calm.de-
lights of the country; witl_i the serene idea
of sitting with the farmer in his chimney
corner, and hearing him talk of corn and
mutton—_of joining him the pensive plea-
sures of a pipe, and brown of October; of
listening to the gossip*of the comfortable
farmer’s wife: of the person and_bis family,
of his sermons and_bis tenth pig--over a
fragrant cup of yoftipg byson. 01‘ lap! In llle
delicious luxuries of custards and whipt
creams ; in walks a fairy vision of wondrous

I

each embryo, and saw with pain ablossom nip-

..

,witcl-iery, arid with a courtesy and a striile of

stirdes, and there she is, locked and bolted in
that little chamber, with the little diamond
window in the old gable. She hassunk in-
ery soft one, cushi_oncl_ com-
fortable all around, seat, back and elbows-.-

proving in giving a higher tone to our moral his loss, kept guard on the other side. Hour and very “.6, ;S ma, “.h;,,, Cambfic ;;an(jk,,,._
sensibility, but they tend to vitiate the taste, passed ufteif bour,butall was sill: tbefull moon ch;,.fw;,;ch she held to her ,.y,,s_ Bu, where

is Capt. Jcnliiiison? Ob! be’s there! and be’s
old, and too true a lover, to fly or sneak.
There they stand, face to face in the moon
light, the tall. slim, Capt. Jenliinson, and the
tall, stout Farmer Field, with his huge strip-
ed waistcoat, ready to burst with hurry’ and
indignation, and his great stick in his hand.
7 What, is that you, captain l My eye l
What! was that you :1 talking to or Anne ?,
‘Yes, friend Field, it is I ; it is the captain,
that was talking to your adorable Anne; and
here 1 am ready to marry her, with your con-
sent, tor never shall woman be my wife but
your charming Anne i’ How that great el-
pbant of a farmer stands lifting up his face,
ow that
‘flit round .C,0rporP.tion, with good capons
lined,’ (good Sbalispeare, pardon our verbal
variation in this _ notation, in courtesy to the
delicacy of n‘.-odern phrases)-—how those her- .
culean limbs do shake with laughter! But,
now, as the tears stream down his face,‘he

cotild have thought it, captain—eh'.l Ha!
ha! Vfell, we’ re all young and foolish once
in our lives ; but come! no more on’t--it
won’t do, captaiii ; it wotilt do l’ ?VV,on',t do!
wo_ri’t do; why shotilden’t it do 7’ !\Vhy,
bccos it tvonlt, and that’s why. A captain
and farther; Ficldls lass——ha ! ha! I/Vbat
will Lady _Jenki_nsop say, eh? The I-Iopora:
ble captain Jenlrinsop and the daughter of
old Farmer Field! wbat’ull they say, eh?
Say I’m :1 cunning old codger; sa_v.l’ve trap-
ped yo_u, belike. No, no: they sbant say so
not a man jack of ’em. Not one of the breed,
seed, and generation of ’cm, slial_l say old
Farmer Field palmed his daughter on a ge-
tlman for his houses and lands. No; Ann’s
alight lass, and John \Vright will come at
the rig ht time; and when y_ou’re married to
my lady Fit; somebody,and Annels got the
right ma_n_, come cl
a pheasant, and set up your horses arid your
dogs here, and we’ll have regular merry
making, and anpthei‘ good laugh at your
youthful follies!’

But all won’t do. The captain vows be-.’ll
shoot all the old guardians ofa row, and tell
his mother to shoot him, if they make any
opposition; and the very same night he sticks
21 note on the top of n fishing rod, and taps
with it Anne’s little window, with the dia-
mond panes, in the old gable; and Anne,

f nigbtingales, apd jumping from the easy chair, looks out, seiz-

es the paper, clasps her hands, casts down a
most affectionate but inconsolable look, and
sighs an eternal adieu l-—tben'flying to read
the note, finds the captain vowing that ‘ she
may cheer up, all shall go right, and that he
will manfully drown bimselfin the mill dam.’
Now, there "is a pretty situation of affairs!
and all that through incautiously tvaridering
into the country of a summer’s evening, and
getting into one of these old fashioned farm
houses. ltwon_1ds_ei'vetbem all right to leave
tbetii in their trouble. It might act as a
warning to others, and place the dangers of
the country in their genuine light. But 85
the captain would be almost certain to drown
himself, he is desperate (and lb,t‘!_! l-llele must
be a cor_or_ier’s inquest,and we might, at a ve-
ry inconvenient mornenl. '09_ Called UP°_ll l°
serve upon it) we will forthis oncelettliitigs
pass-:-all shall be right. Tbeguardiaps re-
lent-—because they can’t help thetpselves.-,-
Lady Jenkinson bounces a good bit, but,-like
all bodies of a considerable specific gratnly.
she comes down again-. _ The adorable Anne
is not drowned in her own pocket handker-
chief, though she has been very near it; and

‘-The Tirnes’. announces that the Hon Che’:
Jenkinson, of the Light Dragoons, was ‘rn‘a‘r-_
ried_ on the 7th inst. to Anne Louisa, the on-
ly daughter of Burley Field, Esq, of Is)-¢g.
more Grange, Salop.--Heazls oftlte People.‘
__ . BEAUTY.

in looking at our nature, we» discover,
among its admirable endowments, the sensa_
of percep,tion,_of Beauty. We seethegerm

 

no power which admits ofgreater cultivation,
and why should it not be cherished in all 3
It deserves remark, that the provision for its
principle is infinite in the universe. There.
is but a very minute portion of the creation,
which we can turn into, food and clothes, or.
gratification for the body; but the wboleera-.
anon may be used to minister to the sense of‘
beauty. Beauty is an ail-pervading presence.’
It unfolds in the numberless flowers of the
Spring It waves in thebremches of the trees
and the green blades of grass. It haunts
the depths of the earth and sea, and gleains
out in the hues of the shell and the precious
stone. And not only these minute objects,
but the ocean, the mountains, the clouds, the
heaven, the stars, the rising and setting sun,
all oveiflew with beauty. The universe is
its temple; and those men, who are alive in,
it, cannot lift their eyes without feelingtbem-
selves encompassed with it on every side —_
Now this beauty is precious, the enjoynients
it gives are so refined and pure, so congenial
\\ ith our tenderest and noble feeling, and so,
akin to. worship that it is painfulto think of
the mUltltl_1,(Ie of men living in the midst of
it, as if, instead_ oftbis fair earth and »g1_o,rious
sky, they are tenants of a dungeon. An, in-Q
finite joy is lost to the world by the want of-
cultuie, or spiritual endowment. ' Suppose
that I were to visit a cottage, and see its walls
lined with the choicest pictures of Raphael,
and every spare nook filled with the most ex-
quisite Wqrltmansbip. and that I were to learn-
tbat neither man, woman, or child, ever cast
an eye at these miracles of art, how should
I feel their privzition; l]0\\' should I wantto,
open their eyes, and help them to compro
bend and feel the loveliness or grandeur
which in vain courted their notice. But eve-_
ry liusbnndinan isliving in sight ofthe works
of a divine artist; and how much would his
existence be elevated, could he see the glory
which shines forth in their forirs, hues, pro‘-_
portions, and moral expression l I have
spokt ti only ofthe beauty of nature, but how
much of this mysterious charm is found in
the elegant arts. and especially in litei'atnrc'l
The best books have most beauty. The
greatest truths are wronged if not linked
with beauty, and they win their way most
surely and deeplyinto the soul when array-
ed in this their natural and fit attire. New
no man receives the true culture of a man,
in whom the sensibility to the beautiful ii
not cherished; and I know of no condition
in life {ruin which it should be excluded. Of
all luxuries this is the cheapest and most at
hand; and it seems to me to be most impor-
tant to those conditions. where coarse labor
tends to a grossnr-as of the mind. From the
diffusion of the sense of beauty in ancient
Greece, and of the taste of music in mode to
Germany, we learn ihat the people at large.
may partake of fine gratifications wliieli
have hitherto been thought to be nec.ssai'ily
restricted to a fcw_.—C/tanning. ‘

A Good Arbit-rato-r.——'l‘tvo men had a dis-.

T° lllls day Reuben lllllllls ll’-3 “'l’°l-9 ‘ll’ squecgaetl the youtb’s band and says.’ VVbo pate which should repair a petition fence sep-

arating their fields, and through which the
cattle found their way. After the usual pre-
liminaries of demands, refusals, threats, and
mutual recrirnination, they resolved to try
the glorious uncertainty of be lalfv. They
Were, hmvever, persuaded by their friends to
the more amicable mode ofllsubmitting the
qucstiup to the final determination of a very
worthy and intelligent neighbor, who was
forthwith conducted to the scene of trouble,
Here, after hearing the arguments of both
parties, be told them that the subject demand-
ed great deliberation ; and as it‘ would take
him sometime to decide, he would just clap
:1 few pieces of boards over the holes; and
in less'than ten minutes time, with his own
hands, he effectually closed every gap. The‘
parties silently _r_etirr-d, and the umpire has
never been called upon to pronounce the final

om, gapgaip, and Ljil us judgment ofthe case-.——Newburg/port Herald.

The Picayune answers a correspondent
who asks which expression is the more pro-.
pet‘, thp ‘house burned up.’ or -(burned
down.’ ‘That depends upon whether the
fire originated in the cellar or the garret.’

Two reverend gentlemen, who were con-
versfng together, one complained to the oth-
er tbat he found it a great hardship to preach
twice a w_eck. ‘llfell,’ says the other, ‘ I

preach twice on a Sunday and make nothing

of it !'

There is a lady out VVest who makes ap-
ple pies without paring the apples. She
says it is indeliczitc to strip llietfzt.

This is worse than the young lady whct
made a pair oftrousers for the tongs, because

she ‘could’nt endure such shocking exposure.
Ne-wpolt (N H) Argus.

G,'.,z}w,;d,._.Lei Lord Byron say what he

will of bread and butter, girlhood is a beauti-

ful season. and its love-—-its warni_, un.€§lf3l,1-

lating, devoted love.,——s,o ,ex_agg.6_l‘8l1_0g ll? Slmv

plicity-—keen from its freshness; is the yery

poetry of attachment; after years have no-.
thing like it. To know that the love which
once seemed eternal can have an cnd,de,
stroys its immortality; and thus brought tog
level with the beginnings. endings. the chanc-
es and changes of lift‘, common-place em-
ployments and plcasu res ; and, alas! from
the sublime to the ridiculous, there is but 8.
step; our divinity turns out an idol; we are
lgi-ow_n too wise for our former faith and we
laugh at what we.wp wept at before; such
laughter is more bitt€?—a thousand times
more bitter—-than tears.

 

...__,__ ._ n---.-« ’

 

Ol lllls lll. €i'€ry human being, and there is.

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