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Two DOLLARS PER ANNUM, PAYABLE IN ADVANCE.
s._.
- VOLUME XXIII-
THE NORVVALK GA ZETTE
Is Publ-is/teal
EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING.
BY
JAMES REED. JR.
‘Hf’!
TERLVIS.-—Two dollars per acnum, payable
in all cases. quarterly in advance. _
To subscribers who live out of the Carrier’s
district and call at the Office for tl.-cir papers,
3,1 50 per year, ’l_/’]Ja7:(l’lIta(f1J(l77.Cd--Oll)el;\VlSG
$52 will be charged. Mail subscribers $2. per
annum, in advance. No others attended to.
To companies of sz'.I. or more, rcceiying their
papers by mail, $1 50, pa}/able tn tzdvance. n
Exccutor’s and Adininistrator’s Notices. _o
insertions, §I31——Corrimissioner‘s notices, $1 29-
Yearlv ad,,e,.,;seis, one square, $10 per arinum.
payable quarterly ll]'at.l.Vfl.l'lCB- Th? P“"‘l_'38€'
of yearly advertisers is limited to their own ini-
meydiate bus'tnes.=.—extra advertisements will be
charged at the usual rates. All other.adver_tise-
mentsatthe rate offal per square for 3iri_serl10nS.
und25 cents for each subseqtient insertion.
All casual advertisements sent to this Ollice-
inust be accompanied by the cash. No others
wilt’ be inserted.
Jl© Plf€.lllr\‘l'lf'lllNl@-,,
on ALL KINDS,
l/lEATLY EXECUTED AT THE GAZETTE 0FFll;E..
DENTAL NOTICE.
OCT. A. HILL, tlitrkful lortue patronage
[13 has received in his profession during
12 months P35‘: ll‘ N°‘"‘V""k‘ ”"3S.’eaVe to .”"
form me public, that he still continues it few
doors west of the Bridge, in Burrttll’s Btttitltng-9»
where he will be happy at any time to see his
friends and answer all their calls in Dental
7
bul”l’T(§’(lfl)"l"Uptll)lC teeth inserted fmm ("H3 l-0 3
full set. Also, teeth cleansed, separated. ex-
ua_c[ed &'.c., and all those diseases ofihc tecth
attended to, which, if stiffcrctl to continue, arc
° - fso much miscliicf.
productive o _ _
M‘Lcan M. D.: Ilou. l‘lioiria.s I). B itlcr;
Hon B’enjamin lsriacs. Norwalk. NE-licmi:ih
13,3“-Y, M, D. Rirlgcfield. R. B. lmtsforrl, M.
D;tlll)[ll'y. Duct.
D,‘ Dr to D. 1). Knapp» 7__
I-Ir)’t.vcll)cRtI(lg£‘.t‘S, Colcliester, Ct. VV itliani
\Vitter, M. D. VVillianiari'tic, Ct. 1
November ‘.20, 1839.
LOG CABIN LS‘ HARD C.fD_.L'.'R
CLOCKS.
HE subscriber has new Clocks from $4 10
553, and warranted. Also. Sl""_‘”‘5‘ ”3l")""'
as coin, or no sale. Spect‘aCl¢’-“s 1ll"l“”“5'_|1ef‘
Knives. Combs, Looking Classes and \\v’HlC-t€=--
Jewelry, &c. cheap lor cash. Inuit Side We
B,;,j,_,e_, C. E. Disniiow.
Norwalk, March 2d, I9-I0. _L5
TIPPECA NOE CL_f)CKS.
X ARRANTED to lit.-‘Pp titiie in all wea_lli~
er, and under all circumstances, lifiyitig
been proved and found /:o2ic._v£ and true. J ricy
are all the go now, and will lie fortl_ie next four
years. LEVI CLARI1 ck: CO.
April 9, 1840. 22
qfi WINTER STRAINED S'i’ER.\l OIL
F a spuperior quality, this (lay t‘P.Ct‘-I\'€tl
and for sale cheap by E. 66 \V. E. l3issm.L.
April. 1 18-10.
l'l"IIl'1’E LEA D.
O. 1 and extra White Lead, at a reduced
1 price, for sale by the subscriber.
'.l‘iios. L l’ECIi-
Old VVell Lariding. April 1-1». 18-30. -7
' C11’ [CAP 1"OR C.-1:S'I{,
fig YARDS bleachetl and un-
E bleached Shirtirig, smooth, hea-
vy and even, at the low price of six and a quar'
I
ter cents per yard, fol sale -iy
Ttros. L. PECK.
I
t
Old \Vcll. April 1-1.
DEdIING'S ROTTEIV STONE.
FIRST rate article for polishing Silver,
Brass. Tin, Steel, &c. écc. in boxes by the
gross, dozen or single, for sale by S'1‘EPIIEN_F-
Mii.Ls and CHARLES Isaacs, Agents for Not
-walk.
Norwalk, Feb. 21st, l8-I0. 15
CUTLJERY, JE TVELRK (5%).
' HE subscriber offers for sale a handsome
assortment of Razors, fine pen and pocket
Knives, Scissors and Shears, silver Pencil
Cases. silver Tliimbles. Breastpins, Ear Rings,
Finger Rings, Brushes and Combs ofovery va-
riety, Stocks of every style and quality, silk
Pocket Haodkfs. and Cravats. Suspenders, Pa‘
per Hangings, Bellows, Tea Trsys, Pins, Nee-
dles, Threads, Tapes, &c.
Joint W. TAYLOR.
Westport, April'28. 1840. 24
;<§ NOW IS THE TIME FOR
BARGAINS .’
TEVENS &. CLOCK have this day re-
ceived an unusually large assortment of
Spring DRY GOODS, which were purchased
for cash at the lowest rates, and will be sold for
cash at prices lower than ever were known be-
fore. This is no pul’f—-call, examine, and sat-
isfy yourselves, and as an evidence that the
goods are cheap, they will state the prices of a
few articles, viz. 1 yard wide iitibleaclied Muss
lin. ofa prime qtiality, for 6 1-2 cents the yard;
good calicoes for 4 1-2 cents the yard; and for
6 1-2 cents they have a prime article, and for
12 1-2 cents they hate as good a quality and as
good colors as atiy body could desire; bleached
muslins. that are as good as we have formerly
sold for 14 cents, they now have for 9d the yd ;
plain and figured Silks, about 20 per cent less
than usual, and a very large assortment too;
Beverteens and Bang-up Cord, cheap as could
be desired, together with a great many articles
which, if wesliould name the prices, purchasers
might think they were so cheap as not to be
worth purchasing, when such would not be the
case. You must call and look for yourselves.
April 22, 1840.
DRYGOODS ATAUCTIONPRICES.
0 all who are in pursuit of Cheap Goods
will find a lull spring assortment at the
Old Well Landing. T1105. L. PECK.
Old Well, April 14. A 22
- GARDEN SEEDS. .
TIIE usual large and choice collection of
Garden Seeds. (warranted of last year’s
growth,) for sale by - J. A. W'i«:r:n.
Sugar Beet and Onion Seed by the pound,
_, sun, as he turnctl each furrow.
Court ofProbate, District of Norwalk,
State of Connecticut.
- T a Court of Probate. holtlen at Norwalk,
/7.. within and for the District of Norwalk, on
the 25th day ofApril, A. D. 1840, upon the pe-
tition of Jonathan Camp, Jr. of Norwalk, as he
is Guardian to W'illiam I3. Swan, Henry R.
Swan and Arigcline B. Swan, all of said Nor-
walk, and minors under tlie age of twenty one
years, showing to this Court that said minors
own. as heirs at law, to Lucretia Belts, late of
said Norwalk,rleccased, undivided rights in the
follcwirig pieces and parcels ofland, all lying in
said Norwalk—One piece, in quantity about
fifty two acres, bounded northerly by George A.
Raymond and Julio Aiken,caslet‘ly by Norwalk
river. southerly and westerly by highway. One
other piece, in quantity about twenty acres.
l)OUl'!i‘lC(l northerly and easterly by highway,
southerly by Peat ground, and westlerly by‘
heirs of Timothy ‘Whitney. dcccasct. One
other piece, in quantity about three acres,
hounded northerly and easterly by hi,<2ltW<'t_V.
southerly by Saml. G. Blackman and Charles
Thornas. and westerly by heirs of Isaac Bcltlcn
deceased. Also. about two acres of Salt Mea-
dow, borinded northerly by \Villiam SI. John
and heirs of Stephen B. St. Jolin, deceased.
easterly and westerly by a creek, and southerly
by Drivirl Comstock and Isaac Abbott, and
praying for liberty to sell the same as per
pclllltin on file will appear :—Ortleretl that the
Gilt day of July next, at 9 o'clock forenoon, be
assigried for a hearing on said petition, at the
Probate Ofiice in said Norwalk: and the said
pgtitjrinef was directetl to give notice thereof, by
prihlisliirig this original order in a newspaper
printed at Norwalllnftlireewyqclts fsticccssively.
at least six weeks e ore sait. rayo assignment.
Bl:‘.Z\‘J. ls.-mcs, Judge.
April ‘29—‘2-I 3t
Ill IS CELL./\ N Y.
E P IIRAIM PIPKIN.
B3/Z/rc a-at/iorof i/re series of entitled ‘flfy
_/’-Sfi-L’7Lg-g"}'0Z/,?l(f.’
A 7:.i.7,/age is the world in mini:iture.——
Human life and individual eccentricity are
developed in its narrow ’pl't:ClIlClS, in every
,~,,,~my of form, Odd _£1't"l'lllJSt~‘S are born,
live, and die, and their (l(‘-:?(lS go down with
them to the crave, ‘ t.inhonoi‘cd and unsung.’
Epli.i'aii2r’Pz'7i.7t£ir was a great man in his
day. Alas! the grass has been green over
his grave for many a year. The. old village
sexton, hen-ling with the weight of time,
prfirits out to llib strolling urchins the spotof
Eoht'.-1iin’s burial, and repeats for the hun-
(I:'i—'(lll1lll'l1(‘ll)C jokes coiinectctl with him
while living. Eplirnim was a ‘man of all
work.’ He was village pi‘opci‘ty_. He v-‘as
ri ;:/1.2;.-Ho personage. On l\'lOll(l.’l:v'S, he help-
ed the '.vomen wash. There was no devia-
tion from this rule. The day was saci‘cdly
set apart for this undivided purpose. He
was, on such occrisioiis, ernplialicnlly female
stock. On other days, he was at large; up
to the highest bidder ; ‘just the man for_ a
job’ He was a Q‘l‘t?.'ll. wag, and was contin-
ually playirig' ofi’triclrs upon his employers.
He was ‘a short mun plump and oily, with
enormous head and feet, and a fiery f-.ice.~—
His clothes were short and pinching; one
suit, comprising‘ all styles, being gatliered
from every family in the community.
One. Slllvfilpv driv in Scptcniliei‘, Eplimitn
was plotigirig for Deacon Tuttlc. l\~’Ii's. Tul-
ile par-t.iciilrii‘lv requested him to come to
rlirmer iii: iizcrlialr/_1/, when she blew the
She was :1 punctual woman, and
horn.
had ‘a system’ about her worlc. Ephraim,
tvlio always rec-ollccted such requests,
plotrgjhctl on steadily and soberly, as the
hours were away, casting his eyes up to the
He was
humming to himself, keeping‘ time with'thc
monotonous music of the crickets. when a
blast from the horn burst suddenly upon
his ear. Quick as a flash, he made his ap-
pearance before Mrs. Tuttle, accordingto
order. -
“Well, Ephraim,’ said the good woman,
‘what now ?’
‘Come to dinner,’ responded the plough-
man.
‘ Law! rnassy me I’ said Mrs. Tuttle, lift-
ing both her hands in astonishment; ‘it_-is
only ten o’clock !’
‘ The /torn blew, any how,’ was Ephi'uim’s
reply. 4
‘VVh_v no it did’nt!’ said the dame; you
are crazy !’ -
Ephraim ‘yoked tip,’ and returnfl to his
labor. In about an hour, he heard anoth-
er blast from the dinner-horn. Away he
went to the house. ‘
‘ There is no mistake this time, Mrs. Tut-
tle, Iguess 1’ said Ephraim grinning from
ear to ear.
‘Why what ails you ?——are you possess-
ed ?’ vociferated the astonished Mrs. Tuttle;
‘ dinner wont be ready this hour !’
‘What the devil did you blow the horn
for then?’ exclaiiried Ephraim, with great
a parent rage.
‘I didri’t—-—no such thing! retorted Mrs.
Tuttlc.
‘There it goes a-g’in !’ said Ephraim.
‘Why that’s our jack, ’taint the dinne1'-
horn !’ exclaimed Mrs. Tuttle.
‘Ajax:/.:. eh? Vv’ell,d—n me if I ever
heard a jack afore !’
It has never been satisfactorily decided
whether Ephraim was playing a hoax or
not. He keptthe secret in his own bosom.
Ephraim engaged himself for six weeks
with Deacon Browning. Mrs. Browning
always had pudding-and-milk for supper.—
It so happened, that owing to a press of
house-hold duties, the good lady ventured
upon pudding-and-milk for dimic-r——a tliing
of rare occurrence. Ephraim sat down to
the table, as usual, and ate heartily, apparent-
ly well satisfied. He rose from his seat,
yawned and stretched three or four times,
and then went to bedl Theold lady at
length called to him, asked him what he
was doing up stairs.’
‘ Gone to-bed l’ said Ephraim ; ‘we always
go to bed, after eating pudding-and-milk l’
for sale as above.
England, as our readers must have discov-
ered. Parsori Dutton once had the the hon-
or of his services for a week. N0\V, the
parson was a poor_ man. His parish was
composed of poor men. He had ten acres
of land, the base of which covered about one
acre; the remainder, like Mahomet’s coffin,
hung between the heavens and earth. The
parson was in the possession of one horse
and a voke of cattle. Ephraim was request-
ed to turn the whole stock out to pasture;
but the hill was steep, he thought if the uni-
muls ever reached the surnmit, tliey must
inevitably dash out their brains in attempt-
ing a decent. He had a tender heart for
man and beast; and to obviate any accident,
he very prudently put ‘brace/ri7Lg" on them,
that they miglit ‘hold back,’ and let them-
selves down gently. and thus avert their
otlicrwise certain destruction.
Now when the r-arishioners passed by,
they could not but blush at the spectacle be-
fore thcm. That Parson Dutton should be
compelled to hazard the life of his horse and
cattle on the little spot given to him, was un-
cl'iristian-like and ungrateful. There was a
stir among the people; a subcription paper,
a new land purchase, and more prosperous
times. Ephraim had contrived it all, and to
him alone was the credit due.
Ephraim Pipkin was an inquisitive man.
l“'Vliile under the roof of the pzirson, it so
happened that Miss Lucretia Dutton, his
eldest daughter‘, received the devoted and
uiidivided attention of the head clerk in the
village store. Miss Dalton and Mr. Bruce
were the very cream of society, and they had
tJ.SSllllll€ll.t'(l together from’ the natural force
of circumstances. Mr. Bruce was as punct-
ual :1 man in love. as in business. He came
early, aiil remained late. It was Septein-
her, an inspring season of the year, when
our story has its date. Night after night the
happy couple were to be seen at an open
window, listning to the melancholy niurmer
of the criclrets, and talking solemn things
spiced with lofe‘. Epliraim determined to
be a prirticipritor in the conversition.
One riiglit about twelve, ‘when church-
yards yawn,’ Ephraim, who slept in a dis-
tant p.:irt of the house, rose, and without any
apparel, save his robe of white, sans coat,
vest, and pantaloons, moved down the stairs,
and putting it ladder‘ to the roof, ascended the
house-top. Mountiiig a chimney, he very
carefully commenced his (IESCF-I'll. The chit-
chnt of Mr. Bruce and Miss Dutton waxed
‘ Pipkin.
more and more distinct, as Ephraim moved
downward. The fii‘e-board had been re-
moved, to make room for a couple of flour-
pots, and there was no obstruction to :1 free
ti'aiisrriis.<;ioii of sounds. The experiment
was it most desperate one. Ephraim was as
black as night, when he reached his tarry-
ing place. Tlirough his sooty mask might
be detected a few streaks of his natural color,
reiidt--riiig' him still more liizleous. lis hair
stood tip ‘ like quills upon the fretful porcu-
pine.’ Braced up firmly, he established him-
self at the throat of the cliimncy, and lent his
whole attention to the wooing below.
The lovers were in the depth of a most
chilling gliost-story. They had been talk-
ing of ‘de:itli-warnings,’ ‘second-sights,’ tin-
til they shook with terror. Epliraim, find-
iiig‘ the amusement dull, and being weary
with ovci’-exertion, began to wax drowsy;
and losing himself in a short nap, his inns-
cles relaxed, his feet gave way, and down he
rushed into the room, carrying a cloud of
soot with liiiri, the. very irringe of his Satanic
tllajcsty himself. Mr. Bruce and Miss Dut-
toii plunged otit of the window, the former
‘leaning’ for home, and the latter fainting,
fell on the grass senseless. Ephraim darted
out at a side door, washed himselfat a brook
near by, retiirned to his room, re-apparcled
hirriself. and flung himself upon his bed.
Miss Diitton revived, and ‘went her way.’
It was ctii‘1'e-tit, for years, that the devil ap-
pearcd to the lovers, and the pnrsoii,was so
superstitious, that he finally forbade the
match.
No man was more feared than Ephraim
His wit and waggery were an orn-
nipotent weaptrn. Dr. Forbes, a gentleman
celebrated for his meanness and dishonesty,
had fleeced Ephraim out ofa few dollars, by
taking dishonorable advantage of him. Now
it so happened that one rainy, tempestuous
night, in the spring of the year, when the
roads were deep mire, that a gentleman
rapped atthe door of Doctor Forbes, request-
ing his immediate attendance on a friend of
the doctor’s, who was lying in a fit, five miles
distant, declaring that the family would re-
ceive no other physiciun. ‘Let the physi-
cian make all haste, or the patient dies be-
fore his arrival !’ were the concluding words
as the messenger closed the door.
The physician arose, hurried on his
clothes, mounted his horse, and dashed out
amid the awftil storm, urging his steedalong
at :1 most rapid rate. On arriving, he rapped
at the door. All was silent within. He
nipped again. No answer. \Vhat could be
the reason? A third time he shook the
door with tremendous fury.
-‘ Vv’ho’s there ’.l’ was the surly inquiry.
‘ Doctor Forbes.’
‘ “That are you after, this terrible night?’
asked the master ofthe house, as he opened
the door full tipon him.
‘ I am sent for. Hoi.v’s this ? VVhy, word
was left at my house, an hour ago, that you
were lying in a fit!’ -
‘Never was better in my life,’ replied the
former. ‘
‘\Vell, then, d n that Ephraim Pip-
kin! He is the scoundrel who has deceived
me !’ The doctor mounted his horse like a
madman, resolving vengeance and brimstone,
on his fearful way home. As there was no
proof thatEphraim was ‘the man,’ although
no doubt existed that such was the fact, the
whole thing passed off, and finally became
one of the best traditionary stories of the vi]-
Ephraim Pipkin _was a native of New-
lage.
., '-_,....-.......‘ ‘n.—.'..‘..-.. .. . ‘.«.._.'..': L. -1,...
’OFFICE WEST SIDE THE B;RIDGE-_-COVER Hovtriisisiiiioain;
; L:
NORVWALK-, CT. VVEDNESDAY, MAY 13, 1840.
Not many months after the above affair,
the doctor lost a favorite horse, after a short
illness, _for whicli his master had prescribed.
He drew him off some distance from the vil-
lage, and resigned him to the birds ofthe air.
On the following morning the doctor arose,
and throwing up his window, beheld his de-
ceased steed, clad in harness, and standing
before the door, attached to the gig which he
had whirled along for so many years. ‘ Good
Godl’ exclaimed the doctor, wild with as-
tonishment; ‘the dead is risen!’ Away he
flew to the street. It was the same—but
alas! without life. ‘Ephraim Pipkin l’ was
his only exclamation. The public under-
stood it all. There was no evidence; but
the joke was laughed at for months.
Reader, did you ever hear ofthe Univer-
sal Band ‘.3’ In the village of Ephraim’s na-
tivity and residence, such a band flourished,
and our hero was captain thereof. It was
termed the ‘Universal Band,’ because it was
open to all, without reference to musical or
any other qualifications. This band num-
bered about an hundred. Their instruments
were tin pans, pot lids, dinner horns, cracked
hells, drums, and fifes, and a thousand unique
vehicles of noise; in brief, ‘musical instru-
ments, and that of all sorts.’ Yes, Ephraim
was captain. At midnight, beneath the bright
moon, when all was still and solemn, the
hand rriarched through the streets and sere-
naded the people. Windows flew up, and
niglit-capped heads were thrust forth, to lis-
ten to the divine melody. Ephraim marched
at the head, with a firm step, full of stateh-
ness and dignity, striking two cymbalic pot-
lids togetlier, in perfect liarmony, lending the
union of sounds in his rear. linpassivc and
stoical, he stiffered nothing to divert his at-
tention. ‘His march was onward.’ Dogs,
roused from their dreams, miglit’ bark ; cats
snarl, cows bellow, horses snort, yet the Uni-
versal Band moved on. It-was enough that
the whole people were up and listening. No
one wished to sleep on such an occasion, and
I will venture to say, that if there is a man
living who knew Ephraim Pipkin, he will
first think of him as the Captain ofthe Uni-
versal Band. .
Ephraim Pipkin was an old man when he
died. His light went out gradually, tvaxing
dimmer and dimmer‘ each day, until the sha-
dowsofdeath settled around him. His head
was full of wit, and his face full of humor to
the last. It was not in the power of fate to
depress him. He was above her arrows.
‘All the world was a stage’ to him, and he
played his part well, even to his last exit.
Poverty might pinch, sickness assail, scan-
dal do-titis; it was all the same to Ephraim.
He was oo much of a philosopher to care a
straw for them. He kicked the whole cata-
logue of miseries from him, as he would a
mad-(log. ‘As a man f}I.I:'7l.r’t.'(.’Ul-, so is he,’ was
Ephraim’s creed, drawn from the best of
books.
Ephraim left no property for posterity to
quarrel about. He had seen the folly of it.
He had seen ‘affectioiiate’ and ‘dutiful’ chil-
dren of deceased _narcnts break open the will
on the funeral day, and fight like cats and
dogs, during their nzttural lives, about dol-
hits and cents! He had seen families split,
brothers curse brothers, and sisters war with
sisters; and all for money! He had seen
the profligacy of the sons, through intcmpEir-
ance, and gambling, and every other vice.
Although childless, the greedy world might
contend for his smallest pittance; and E-
phraim blessed his stars that he died poor.
Our philosopher was never tormented
with imaginary troubles. He was not al-
ways trembling lcst he should fall. He was
not /rig/i enough for that. No person envied
him ; and what was better, be fully recipro-
cated the feeling. He was never charged
with officiousness, pride, ostentation, or ty-
ruiiiiy. He was beneath those tempcsts that
at times sweep every village. A want of
courtesy was no infirmity of his nature, for
he made no courteous professions.
But enough. The world has many E-
phraim Pipkins, who pass through it and
die, without regret or remark. Common
justice, however, seemed to demand this tri-
bute; and in closing it, I would say, in true
tomb-stone phrase:
‘sacnnu To THE MEMORY 01-‘ EPHRAIM PIPKIN.’
WE D D E D L I F E.
I may perhaps startle you Eff-.1, by say-
ing that tne first year of a young woman’s
wedded life, is generally the most unhappy,
and the most trying one she experiences.
However intensely we may have studied the
character of our affianced, however well we
have imagined we kow it in allits nar-
roiiv windings, still shall we find, when we
become wives, that we have yet something
to learn. By sections is the affections on
either side shown, and although it is in the
power and nature of woman to manifest her
clevotcdness by a thousand little attentions,she
must not repine if she receives not the like.
The feelings of the other sex are not so
soft and exquisite as those of our own:-if
they were we might possibly be happier, and
we may for a moment wish that they were
so, btit we shall restrain so selfish a desire,
if we reflect how much more unfit they
would be by such a constitution to bear the
crosses and buffets of the world.
It is said that lover’s quarrells are but the
renewal of love, but it is not so in truth.—
Continued difiiirences and bickerings will
undermine the strongest affection, and a wife
cannot be too careful to avoid disputes upon
the most trivial subjects—-indeed it is the
every day occurrences which try,the love
and tempers of the married life--great occa-
sions for quarrel seldom occur. ‘ Every
wish. every prejudice, must meet with atten-
tion, and the first thought of a woman
should be the pleasing and providing for
her husband. It is irnposible to enumerate
all the little incidents, which may annoy
married men, or the-little unobtrusive pleas-
NUMEECR 26.
A. W .
tires which it is in the power of a wife to
give——but throughout her life in employ-
ments, she must ever hear his pleasures on
her mind. She must act for him in prefer-
ence to herself, and she will be amply re-
warded by witnessing his delight in her and
his home. To a- woman who loves her
husband with all the devotedness of her na-
ture, _this will be a pleasure, not a task—arid
to make him happy she will never grudge
any sacrifice of self; ,
The greatest misery a woman can expe-
rience is the changed heart, and the aliena-
ted affections‘ of her husband, but even in
that painful case she must not upbraid-—sh’e
must bear with fortitude and piitience hcr
great disappointment——slie must return good
for evil to the utmost, and her consolation
will be the consciousncssthat her trials have
not their rise or continuance in any derelic-
tion of affection or duty on her part.
Some women in order to win back the
husband’s wandering love, have recourse to
attempts to arouse his jr-alousy——btrt they
are much ‘mistaken in pursuing‘ such a
method. A man however debased his con-
duct. never entirely forgets the love he once
bore to the. bride of his yoiith—-there are
moments when feelings oftenderncss for her
will return-with force to his heart, and to
reap the benefit of such moments the injured
forgiving wife must still be enshrined in the
purity of forrnci‘ times. A husband will ex-
cuse his fault to himself. and in some meas-
ures also stand exonerated to the world, if
his wife relax in the propriety of conduct,
while on the contrary, the gentle forbear-
ance, the uncomplying patience, and unob-
trusive rectitude of the woman he injures,
will deeply strike to his heart, and do much
to winihim back to former love, and to the
obscrvance of the vows he breathed at the
alter when his heart was devoted to the be-
ing fi'om whom it has tvrindeiwd. A kind
look, and affectionate expression lialfuttered,
must bring his wife to his side, and she
must, with smiles of tciidci'riess, encourage
the tjeturning affection, carefully avoiding
all rfifereiice to her stifferings or the cause
oftlieni.
This will not be difFtc.i.ilt, for virtuous wo-
men to perform. Our love which before
marriage is constrtiiocd by the modesty and
reserve natural to otir sex, increases in fer-
vericy, and depth afterwards-—it enables us
to bear unfelt the world’s scorn, all is stval
lowed up in it. An affectionate wife clings
to her htisbund through poverty and riches;
and the more the world recedes from, the
more firmly will she stand by him; she
will be his friend when no others come near
him, she will be his conifortcr when all oth-
er worldly comforts has slid from him.——
Her‘ dcvotedness will be his rock, when he
has no other support; she will smile at the
frowns of the world-—she will not heed its
censures—he is her all, and in love. are all
other fcllings to be forgotteii or absorbcd.—-
No sacrifice will be too great, the faintest
~niile will not be a rewnrcl too little—quic.k
at feeling‘ unkindness, we are also quick at
felling tenderness, and a very trifling cir-
cumstance is sufficient to awalren or to still
the pain of our heart and bring us misery
or liappiness.—Jlf7's. Strzriforrl.
The Great Wesle'rn,—Fi'orri rt report of
the proceedings at the annual meeting ofthe
proprietors of the Great VVestern Company,
held at Bristol on the 26th March, it appears
that the actual nctt profits of the company for
the year 1839, ‘were 9,9l2l., or near 350,-
000. The average of her passages during‘
the past season wei‘c:———to New York seven-
teen days and two hours; from New York
thirteen days and sixteen hours; her short-
est passage outwards hiis been thirteen days
and a half, her shortest lioineward twelve
days and a half. She has conveyed 1036
passengers, and has carried 1214 tons of
goods, 96578 letters, and 19571 newspapers,
bcsidcs parcels. The average frorii the
commencement of the Great Western’s pas-
sages from New York home, has been thir-
teen days and a half only, while that of the
sailing liners during the same period ,has
been twenty-three days.--N. Y. Sim.
Two Jliissionrzrics eaten by Sm.-ages—
The New York Observer publishes an ex-
tract from a letter dated Sidney, New South
VVales, December I, 1839, which states that
two missionaries, named VVilliams and Har-
ris, connected with the London Missionary
Society, had been killed and eaten by the
natives of Ewornango, one of the -New He-
brides Islands. They had gone to the island
for the purpose of communicating with them
on the subject of religion, but they had no
sooner come in sight of t-he savages than the
war-cry was raised. Mr. Harris being sick-
ly and feeble, and Mr. Williams an old man,
they were overtaken and pierced through
with spears. A third person, who was with
them, Mr. Cunningham, being a stsonger
man than either of the others, escaped.
The multitude judge almost constantly
wrong on all subjects that lie in the least
out of the common way. They follow one
another like a flock of sheep, and not only
go wrong themselves, but make those. who
are wiser ashamed to go right, for it is not
prudent to be singular in matters of inferior
consequence.
Allowing the performance of an honora-
ble action to baattcnded with labor, the la-
bor is soon over, but the honor is immortal:
whereas, should even pleasure wait on the
commission of what is dishonorable, the
pleasure is soon gone, but the hishonor is
eternal. '
The Bedford Mercury says, we have just
seen several packages of garden seerls which
had been forwarded from the seat of Govern-
ment at Washington. in the U. S mail un
der the freak of a member of Congress.
- (_‘-U§{l€.1=S]TY:’
A-POEM, DELIVERED 1:121-‘onn TH’!-I cAmnntp¢: pm
BETA KAPA soon-.“nr.—mr CHARLES cruaux,
(Cti1\"[‘li\'Ul-JD )
Behold the sick man in easy chair;
Barred. from the busy crowd and bracing ail‘.
How every passing trifle proves its power
To while away the long, drill, lazy hour.
A: down the pane the rival rairi-drops chase.
Curious he’ll watch to see which wins the race;
And let two dogs beneath his window fight,
I-le’ll shut his Bible to enjoy the sight.
So with each new-born nothing rolls the day.
Till some kind neighbor, stumbling in his way,
Draws up his chair, the sulierer to amuse,
And makes him happy while he tells—'I‘he Newg.
The News! our morning. noon. and evening crv;
Day unto day repeats it till we die.
For this the cit. the critic. and the fop.
Dallysthe hour away in 'l‘onsor's shop;
For this the gossip takes her daily route,
And» wears your threshold and your patience out;
For this we leave the person in the lurch,
And pause to prattle on the way to church;
Even when some coflined friend we gather round.
‘V8 ask. “ \-Vhat news?” then lay him in the ground;
To this the breakfast owes its sweetest zest,
For this the dinner cools, the bed remains unpress'd.
What gives each tale of scandal to the street,
The kiichen’s wonder and the pnrlor's treat ?
See the pert houscniaitl to the keyhold fly,
When husband storms. wife frets, or lovers sigh;
See Tom your pockets mtisack for each note,
And rt-ails your secrets while he cleans your coat;
See, yes. to listen. see even Madam deign,
When do snug s a ' p.tress pours her ready strain.
This wings that lie that malice ireeds in fear,
Noiorigiie so vile but finds a kindred ear;
Sn ift flies each tale oflaugliter. shame or folly,
Cauglil by Paul Pry and carried home to Polly;
Oti this each foul caluniniator leans,
And nods and hints the villainy he means;
For well he knows what laierit wildfire lies
lo the close whisper and the dark surmise;
A muffled word, a wordless wink has woke
A warmer throb than ifa Dexter spoke;
And he, o'er Everett's periods who would nod,
’I‘o track a secret hall the town has trod.
0 Thou, from whose rank breath nor sex can save,
Nor sacred virtue, nor the powerless grave.
Felon unwhippetl! than whom in yonder cells.
Full many a groaning wretch less guilty dwells,
Blush-ifof honest blood ti drop remains.
To steal its lonely way along thy veins;
Blush—il'the bronze long hardened on thy cheek,
Has left a sriot where that poor drop can speak;
Blush to be lirantlerl with the Sland’rer’s name.
And tho‘ thou drcad'st not sin. at least dread shame.
We hear. indcet’, but shudder while we hear.
The in:-idious falsehood and the heartless jeer;
For each dark libel that thou lick’st to shape" ’
'l"nou riiay’st from law. but not from scorn‘~,~scape3
The pointed fiiiger. cold, averted ey e,
lrisultud virtue‘s liiss—-thou ainst not fly.
The t-hurl. who holds-il heresy to (hin/C,
Vdho loves no iiiusic hrit the dollar's clink,
\Vho laughs to scorn the wisdom oftlie schools,
And (l8€ll:S the first of poe!s first of fools.
\Vlio never _fouml what good from science grew,
Save the grand truth that one and one aregtwo,
And marvels Bowditch that a book should pour,
Unless to make those two ttirn itito fotir;
'vVho, placed where Catskill‘s forehead greets the sky,
Grieves that such quarries all unhewn should lie;
Or. gazing lv'u’ll8l'€ Niagat'a's torrents thrill.
Exclaims. ' A nioristrous stream--to turn a mill ;’
\-Vho loves to feel the blessed winds of heaven,
Zut as his freiglited barks are portward driven;
Even he, across whose brain :C8l'C8 dares to creep
Auglit btit t|irift's parent pair-—to get, to keep;
\Vho never learned life’s real bliss to know-
Wiili Curiosity even he can go.
Go, seek him olit on you dear Gothar’n’s walk.
\Vliere tral’fic’s ver.turer's meet to trade and talk:
\Vhere Mummon’s votaries bend, of each degree,
The hard-eyed lender. and the pale lendee; .
Where rogues, insolvetit,strui in white-washed pride,
Arid shove the dupes, xx lio trusted them, aside.
flow through the buzzing crowd he threads his way,
To catch the flying rumors oftlie day;
’f‘o learn ofcliarigiug stocks, of bargains crossed,
Of breaking niercliants, and ofcargoes lost;
The thousand ills that trafiir:‘s walks invade,
And give the heart ache to the sons oftrade.
How cold he hearkens to some baiikrupt’s wn;
Nods his wise head. and cries—"l told you so;
" The thrifiless fellow lived beyond his means,
“ He must buy hrants——I make my folks can beans.
\Vhat cares be for the knave, the knave’s sad wife,
The blighted prospects of air anxious life?
The kindly tliiobs that other men control,
Ne‘er melt. the iron ofthe miser’s soul;
Through L.fe's dark road his sordid way he wands.
An incarnation of fat dividends;
But when to death he sinks. iingrieved, unsung,
Buoyed by the blessing of no iriorIal's tongue;
No worth rewarded and no want redressed,
To scatter fragrance round his place of rest,
Wriat shall that hallowed epitaph supply-
The universal wo when good men die?
Cold Curiosity shall linger there.
To guess the wealth he leaves his tearless heir;
Percharice to wonder what must be his «loom.
In the fair land that lies beyond the tomb;—
Alas! for him, if. in its awful plan,
Heaven deals with him as he hath dealrwith man.
Child of romance, these work-day scenes you spurn,
For loftier things your finer pulses burn;
Through nature's walk your curious way you take.
Gaze on her glowing; how. her glittering flake,
Her spring’s first cheerful tzreen, her autumn's last,
Born in the breeze. or (lying in the blast;
You climb the mountain’s everlasting wall,
You linger where the tliunder-waters fall,
You love to wander by old ocean’s side.
And hold communion with its sullen tide;
Washed to your foot some fragment ofa wreck.
Fancy shall build again the rrowdell deck ’
That trod the waves. till ‘mid the tem esi’s frown
P 9
The sepnlchre oflivirig men went down.
Yet Fancy, with her niildei, tender glow.
But dreams what Curiosity would know;
Ye would stand listening as the booming gun
Proclaimed the work of agony linlfdone;
There would you drink each drowning seamen‘: cry,
As wild to Heaven he cast his frantic eye;
Though vaiii all aid. though pity’s blood run cold,
The mortal havoc ye would dare behold;
Still Curiosity would wait and weep,
Till all sank down to slumber in the deep.
Nor yet appeased the .-=pirit‘- l'.'?‘-l_l.*3.'_?<'.,-L‘-"it)\-"},,‘
Ye would explore the glt.-ull._lr v-.;.ste. Utlow:
There, where the joyful sunbeanis never fell,
Where oeean’s unrecorded monster‘: dwell:
Where sleep earth‘: precious things. her rifled gold,
Bones bleached by "ages, bodies hardly cold,
Norwalk Chronicler