The Greensborough patriot [May 4, 1844]

              rccnsuoronai.
VOLUME VI. GREENSBOROUGH, NORTH-CAROLINA, MAY 4, 1844 NUMBER 5.
]Jnblis!)ri lUccUln
BY BWAIM i: SHERWOOD,
PRI< *'*, Tl
OS *?-.60. ii rub
UtSfiBfl in; 1,1. Mis A ^ i:Alt,
IV I fill's uM IclNrit AIT I'M Till. >.\Tr
Faihin on the |«irt of un nMkmr i■ •<ntii ■ di ■>: tin*
UUKMWUUH th«* lelmlipwsi vi-^ir. will !»■ con ul«-c>.| m-
•BSftttta ol" lu~ Wkk i-> COMBOS Tin- pup r.
ADVERTISEMENTS
lWrt.-l u tW rito of mil- dattu art ■quanr, (aneen
I ;.«-.i for tbeirrf week, ami Iwnily-flw erota IM ererj
roatuiuan**** A liberal lUJunum slJowrd in JHO of
• '»..-■ ttha ■dnffiaW by tjir eUBltaV OS l.-r .1 \-n*rt pftiod.
THE WARNING.
" I entreat you not to make this bqsty decision*
my «l»'iir *'oniclia." said Mia* Cameron. ul(you
do, I much feu ii will embitter all your future
life."
"And why should 1 DM write al our,-, ami re- (
loan Char!.'., from an engngeraenl, which, if Mill «'"• taken hi* place by our cheerful Ore
My engagement received my father1! ianctiani
an1! Inatead of baring the prospect before me ol
being separated from him by the fu!li!m>'iii. he
imendedf upon my marriage to accompany meto
the West. Edward's coarse of etudy terminated.
He passed his examination with boncfi and ww
admitted to (he bar: and hi- friends felt warrant-ed
by his promiahlglalcotfl in looking lorwardfer
him to a carter (,f uncommon professional mil*
liaiiry. I b Ivft—it ia useless 10 r,'|>, at how pain-ful
was the parling, or bow numerous wen the
vows of constancy which were thru interchanged.
••II,' arrived ia Ohio, and settled in a promis-infflocation,
and wrote mo thence of hi* high hopes
regarding ha profeaaional career, and also of his
Unabated atlectiuii. Thai letter nai the last 1 re-civeil
from him. It waa not Ion/ere I «a~ call-
, d to |,n-s through the deep walera of affliction ;
and for a time, it seemed that the) mutt orewhelm
me. One evening my father had just entered,
ide.
remembered, moat prove irksome to him;" i when I observed an alarming change coming o*
"Because," responded Mrs. Cameron, -I boj
r - the report which has been so distressing to you,! •" ■<* aamUUICa! but in a moment, even before
( maj proreRroundlesti andlhaTonotreadCharWa | 'lie domestici could enter the room, the spirit of
vVUntot rightly, if ho would brook your distrust- lhat idolised lather had gone forever. The dread-ing
his truth upon a merit rumor. An enduring f"1 •*■»■» rushed upon my mind; and for weeks
• straagement would be the eonttqaencc; and I remnmbn no more. I sank into insenaibility,
you would • tnture bis unhapptnenu well a-- your and when I awoke to consciousness, it was with
' .•• « a fevered brain; and for a Ion? tim,', the friends
It-it Cornelia <«rav insisted thai the information who kindly watched over me. had no hope of my
which she had received of her lover's falsehood restoration. But at last 1 awoke to reason, and
could be relied upon thai his devoted attentions tcturntagneahh, Ohl the desolation of that awa-to
a lady of the plac- in which he resided, had honing 1 And then the thought of Edward's syin-been
remarked, and that it was generally bvliev- patbtzing affection came to my heart. a*, a ray of
ad he was to marry her (—and now. she remem- light when all around was darkness. As soon as
bered his recent letters had lacked the deep after. Bay health allowed me, 1 wrote informing him ol
tiuii winch formal COM had spoken—ttnd she as- my sorrow ; feeling lhat they must find a respon-sureil
her friend, that the pride inherent in wo- ding chord in his own heart. 1 looked Ion? and
mill's heart, would sustain her in the course on anxiously for a letter in return, but none ever
which she had decided,—and that, let her anj-tiLih came. I tried long to attribute this to the uncer-of
.-pint he ever so hard to bear, she only, of nil aunty of the mail, for that was many years ago,
the world, should know she suffered. and its convenience was neither as rapid nor as
•• And did you remark any chaii"e in the let- well ordered as it k at the present lime. Then
ters before you heard that Charles was false. Cur- came the dreadful fenr. that illness, or death, oc-neha!"
She acknowledged that she did not.— casionedajdl silenci—but when that fear had
it no warmer sentiment than esteem; but my
pride shrank from the avowal that 1 had once
pouted all the wealth of that heart's aflertion, as
one who had cast it aside as worthless. He re-peated
ihe off-r of his hand; and urged OB by
■evortJ different motives,] concluded upon it- ac-ceptance.
The strongest and most hlamable ol
these, was the bitier pride that had sustained ma
through all. Edward shall know, 1 thought,thai
one whohad already attained that eminence, which
Ibrmed the acme of his waking visions, can prize
one whom he regarded as valueless. 1 thought
loo, that ai -Mr. Cameron still wished to marry
me after knowing my sentiments towards him, 1
might thus promote his happiness ; and I hoped
in the fulfilment of the new duties which devolv-ed
upon me, and in the removal from all familiar
objects, to forget the past,
Mr.andMn*Thompson, (the friends with whoni
I was residing,) were delighted to hour my accep-tance
of Mr. Cameron, and 1 could hardly with-hold
them from preparing for a splendid bridal.
ver his countenance, 1 hastened to him, and call-1 This was a pageant through which 1 felt 1 could
not puss; and they yielded to my desire that none
bui their own family should be present at our mar-riage
; and that as BOOB as it had taken place, we
should leave on our journey to my husband's home.
•• h was with a sinking heart that 1 took those
vows upon me which nought but death could awn-der.
The last word waa spoken; and my lav
was indissolubly sealed, when Kdward Warn u
was before me; and, oh ! the Ink of agony lhat he
cast upon me, can never perish from my memory.
-1 stood transfived. as though 1 was changed
to marble. •• Eli/a," he exclaimed, •• have I re-turned
for this! Is this the meeting lo which 1
hive so joyfully looked forward through our wea-ry
separation ?"
•• I need not repeat to you, Cornelia, all thai
passed in that hour of trial; but there in the pre-sence
of my husband, who had now a nght to
know all, all was explained ; anil with bitter self-reproach,
1 learned Edward was blameless. He
hail never received a line from me after my fath-er's
decease ; but had, though pained bv my si-lence,
continued writing) lo me ; and had written.
•• Then 1 efltreot. you. not to take a course which wrung my heart almost to madness, it was reuiov- I naming the time that he should return lo fullil
•ss. The wo- I'd by the return of one who had bean long a ret- j our engagement. It was with painful surprise
ident m the West; who told of his health, and of | he found our home desolate, and heard, for the
the bright prospects which were opening before ( first time, that my lather was numbered with the
him. At last, when the biuercertainty that 1 waa ' departed. That 1 should be absent for as indef-forgotten,
had seated upon me. I received a letter ! into period, ut the time which be had named for
"Oh. Mrs. Cameron!" exclaimed Cornelia; and the well known character ol its address sent bit return, seemed to him inexplicable ; but he
•• you who liave lived only in life's sunshine, and a ihrill of joy to my heart. Bui lhat form passed, had hastened to me, never for a moment doubting
whose even temperament must ever have left you away. It was from Edward, and told of the J my truth, and had no intimation of what await, d
a stranger to mental conflict, can realize nothing changes which lime and nb-enee had wrouiht in | him. until he stood in my presence
' my anguish of spirit.
nay destroy all your future happines
man's pride UJKIII wh:ch you so much rely, may-save
ynu from the compassion of ihe world ; but
believe me, you will find it but a miserable com-forter
to your own heart."
A cloud passed over the usually calm fuce ol gagement from which, he presumed, that ere this jus v
his feelings in regard to our engagement—an en- i "Who had been the nuthor of all this sorrow to
• not long in deciding. There was a
Mr* Cameron, an expression as from the awak- I too desired to be free, lie said" too. that in his j young man residing in my native village, who had
ening of bitter recollections, as she replied:—•• It new residence, he had found one more congenial , ever, after my father's decease, persecuted me
• -because I would save you from the terrible to his present fancy, and ha desired me lo consul- -
darkness that fell upon my own pall; -from the cr our engagement as no longer existing. Could
bitter and unavailing anguish which my own spi- ihis cruel letter ba from Edward ! ll teemed Hu-rl',
has known, lhat 1 have so importunately urg- possible. Bulycs.ihcrcwas his wi II known hand,
• d you to desist from your purpose." and his long silence previous to this confirmed it.
••' Have you then known sorrow • corroding I could not doubt it! and with a conviction of its.
sorrow f—you whose existence 1 have ever thought truth a change cdme over my nature. None shall
of, as one of tranquil, and unalloyed happiness I" know what I suffer, was my mental resolution.—
" Yes, Cornelia I have known sorrow, and this I was scorned; and the affection that 1 had so
has made me the more solicitous in endeavoring deeply, fervently centered upon Edward, he had
to guide you. and mould your disposition, (which cast aside as worthless. I resolved that my heart
I saw thai nature had formed much like my own.) should break rather than betray one pang of ng-iu
such a manner as to leave you a stranger lo ony; and pride, fierce and bitter pride, took pos-rhe
like trial. You were very young when your session of every ambition of my soul.
father: at his decease, l"ft you to the guardianship " I had not long before received an invitation
of Mr. Cameron :' and 1 have ever since that pc-' from on intimate friend, who had married and re-riod,
endeavored to fulfil a mother's duty to you. moved into another State to pass some months
Perhaps, it may profit you to hear my early his- with her. I resolved at once lo accept this invi-tory;
and though it is to me like tearing open n . tation : as every object around me brought some
long closed wound, I am willing, for your sake, painful associations lo my mind. After the re- wrecked the happines of one who was dearer far |
with his attentions. I do not think that he wa
influenced in the lea-t by attachment, or h" could
not liave conducted so basely, bui believe thai his
Only motive was to obtain the fortune of which 1
was now the independent mistress. He was ihe
posi-mn-ler, of our village, and thus had opportu-nity,
if base enough to profit by it, of intercepting
our letters* and Edward remembered thai he pos-sessed
the talent of imitating any writing so per-fectly,
that it could not 1M: detected from the ori-ginal.
Connecting these circumstances with the
fact that he had repeated the proffer of his hand
the very evening after my rcccpiion of lhat dread-ful
letter, and had urged its acceptance with an
Importunity that would hardly be denied, left no
doubt on our minds of his guilt.
"May you never know from Upttience, Cor-nelia,
the remorse which then tortured my heart.
Influenced by my bitter and resentful pride, I had
"Mr. Cameron's neither had lohaj hern an '
inmate of his homo. She had been called to pa's ;
through deep affhetion, fur she was a widow.— ,
and of a 0D09 num EOus family, he was the onl) i
child whom death had pared her. Added to I., r ]
other afflictions, was that ofblindncsa; yet achecr-ful
smile was ev.-r on her countenance; fbewith-in
her soul was that heavenly li^ht which grows
brighter and brighter, until it is perfected in •ev-erlasting
day.' To DM who had never before
known the blessing of a rnothcr*i love, the a.lec-tion
which she bestowed upon me was very pre-cious,
and when she sough] Ml lead me lo the
-ourcc whence she derived her happiness, I trust
lual her aSata wen. „« in vain. In my hi - j
band I constantly discovered some new excellence ,
of character, or some lofty power of mind, lo call
forth my ragafd and admiration.
" Years passed by, and so deep a calm had
settled upon my spirit, that I thought it could ne-ver
again be stirred by the storm of excitod fei I-ing,
1 had never heard from Edward after the
reception of the lottoi that 1 have mentioned, and i
had never sought lo hear, for I felt how destruc-tive
it would be to ihe tranipiility of mind which '
I was striving to attain. Many years after m)
marriage, I was paning the winter with my Mas-band
in Washington, whither ho was called by
his duties as n Senator, A friend of Mr. Came-ron's,
(a gentleman from Ohio.; was visiting u«, j
and from him. 1 unexpectedly learned the fate ol '
my heart's early idol. He was a lawyer; and
the conversaiion turned upon the subject of the [
bar in bit section of the country, when he in,;-1
dentally mentioned a young man of UDCOmmon j
promise, who years before nppean d al their bar
and located in his own county. He spoke of his |
talent in the intricacies of his profession, of his I
ronuiiaiidint* eloquence, of his increasing popular- :
ity, and the promise which he gave of becoming |
ihe • bright particular Mar' of hi- profession; but
he added, 'and I listened afancaf breathlessly, for .
though he had not named him, I doubted not of
whom he spoke.) his light wa- early quenched.
He relumed to New England, from whence he '
was an emigrant; and it was tljpugh' from his'
nrrongeini nts before leaving, that he was to hi in
back a bride. Bie he came alone, and never :
seemed the same being as before. Ili^ ambition
I was gone; and he became reckl, ss and dissipated i
in his habits, ami soon sunk into an early and un* '
honored grave. 'And ihu: ekned the carvr of
Edward Warren,' he added, -one whomight
I l.etird no more; I was hh murdireiss! and the
cry of agony which I had vainly striven to repp's* j
I now burst from my lips. What followed 1 little '
remember; but I have a confused recollection of
• the plea of sudden illness, to account to the strait- .
ger for what inusi have appeared inexplicable in ,
my conduct.
" It was the last wave that passed ner meand '
I have found peace—yes, pence and happue -.- !
I lave you never seen a S|K»I once bright and ver-dant,
which UM scathing lire has passed over un- ,
til all ils beauty and groennes* has perished-■■ (
and it is left scorched and desolate? Bulthod-'V.'-
and rains of heaven fall ti|Hm it, and it i- again ;
clothed with bloom and verdure. Thus it has i
been with my heart*
t " Can you profit by the tale trial I have lot I
you,and listen to me now, Cornelia !" The arms
of lhat fair girl vvenjjasined around her guardian's
neck, and she assured her, with deep emotion,
lhat she would not, by her haughty conduct im-plicate
her own happiness or that ofCharles Wil-niot,
and whin a few months after she left her
home as his happy bride, she fell lhat she owed
her happiness to her guardian's warning;.
to bear the pain. You have ever treated me with covery of the illness lhat succeeded my father's
respect when 1 advised you; but still have con- death, I became an mmate of the family of one
siderod me, from what you thought my passion- I win had been his dearest friend, and who had la-less
temperament, incapable of understanding the ken care of the adjustment of the business and
impulses of your own. You little knew the tern* the estate. It required but little lime to make all
peat that preceded the deep calm which is now ■ needed arrangements for leaving the place that
settled on my spirit, until my existence is become | bad ever been my home. 1 have never returned
vMVclesa as the unbroken surface of a summer
sea. Perhaps you know already that this is not
my native slate. My birth place is nu the banks
of the Connecticut, and there 1 passed the lirsl
twenty years of my life. Like you, 1 never re-in-
rober a mother's care, for mine was taken from
me while I was still in infancy; but if it had been
] i- tide that nugbt ell e could supply the place ol
a mother's low, 1 should never have felt its depri-vulkm,
blessed as 1 was. with the devoted all' c-ti-
muf one of the boat of fathers. 0, the devotion
, fa parent'i love, when cent' red upon an only
child ! Although I warmly returned his attach-ment,
I can now ln,,k back, and painfully recall
i -any-n*tima when that dear father's heart was
wounded by the impulses of my hasty temper,—
'I !.'-r.' came the powcrol a neu afli ction ov, r my
lirit, which without severing any of the cords of
• lial afij-clioii, mined it 'If about my heart, until
,».,..;.. interwoven with every thought, and
fe, ling, and hope of myexistence. Edward War-
I a to wh m tin | aver was given, ] d ii.
,i.e' leep and ardent reelings ."..■ my own; and
in him, I thought every maidv perfecli 'i which
I . uld D .i lire an ! I ve wi re blended. If hod
t to my t ige to acqti ,
to me than my own existence, and had brought
shame, and bitterness of soul to the noble being,
whom 1 had vowed before the Almighty ever to
love and reverence.
"The guilt of those solemn vows, taken from
the motives whu h impelled me to them, now came'
home to my soul. Had they been even a lit'le
to it. My friend gave me a very conlial recap* I longer delayed, we might yet have beat happy,
tion; niul strove in every way to make her house j Hut now our fate was irrevocably sealed, and re-a
pleasant home to me; but I saw what her po- gret availed not. We parted, and my husband
liteniss could not entirely conceal, her surprise to bore me away—it mattered not now lo me, whl-tint!
mo after having passed through such nfllic- liter. It was his firsl intention la have gone ii*
tion. in the enjoyment of so great allow ol spirits, rcctly lo his own home, but he now look a more
I 'Hie he alluded to my ■ iigageineiit, which he circuitous route; hoping lo divert my mind from
supposed was still in existence. 1 snawarcd her ismarow by ihe grand and beautiful scenery to
coldly and haughtily, that it wus an engagement
THE TURKISH CHARACTER.
IMD which I rejoiced lo be free ; and she- sought
no farther explanation. 1 mingled much in soci-tiy
; and pride—the woman's pride of which you
spoke, Cornelia, sustained met and none suspeo
t"d the semblance of gaiel
throbbing with anguish.
which he tlirectetl my attention. When we
rived here, new trial* awaited me; for. as the
bride of Mr. Cameron, attentions were showered
upon me, and I had a prominent part lo sustain
ill the circles of fashionable rayely, even when
concealed a heart my heart was longing in its weariness for the'pi let
t of the grave. 1 determined thai my husband
"1 had been some months with my friends, should not have the mortification of seeing me foil
when a gentleman who waa a distant relative ol of supporting the station in which iny marriage
her husband's came to visit them. He wa oit" had placed me. added to the other trials which
who," name and reputation had long keen lamil* thai marriage had brought homo to himself, Mi-
Mr to me, though bis residence was far distant; pride still upheld me. 1 trust that 1 have saice
lor his talents, both ns a jurist, and a atalosjBian, found a sun r support under affliction, but my
had early wen him a pi." among ihe eminent heart was then a s-ranger to its influence, Not
ol "'.;: In.'!. Win it I :.::•. learned that Mr. Cam- long after our arrival at home, I reel ivi d a letter
was iiinri led in me, it excited my surprise; from Edward. Ii via- very brief, ami was writ*
and lie u h it was grotif' ng to my wounded spi- tentonssnro me that our supposition in regard
inched, and so highlv gifted, to the author of our sorrows, were correct—that
imal education, mid when that \\as t i, •' ' iiniet tdl, when he'declared be had acknowledged his guiltand waa left to the
ng to push hi • Wi I. (thin, ; • I offer 1 tit It hand in marriage, punishment of his own conscivnee. He added
vv as then the-far Wi '.' I'l 'II ... ' ; for 1 fi-h 1 ■ it be should relum immediately to the West—
lo the professional emigra r was Ii rows Mo love.' which I could now . aimless, hopeless, save fn tho hope W era- in
:, ;__,•: :. adieu " ild ■ ■'." upon i ' ■'■-- ' that though fr-m ' ■ ■
■ - ■ • ' ' ' hnnnin
The Turk is by no means a cannibal, big a I
good sort of a fellow, indillerctit and phlegmatic.
lie is no friend ol work, lid rather a systematic
idler, who loves of all things to .stretch hint-el:
out. and re-is from doing nothing. Nothing de-i
light* him so notch as rest and comfort." 'I'll''
common Turk is juat the -ame. though, from m •
cessiiv. he must work more than the rich. The
profi saional and the merchant work through tho
day in a most leisurely and take-it-ea-y fashion.
But so sunn as the sun i- gene down, when the
Turkish b,il strikes twelve, ihen ishcmost punc- l
tual. He ahull up his ah p. goes home, to the
mOsqUC, eats, and lays in,itself down. To e."ri.
by candlelight Is, III his UVOS, II ll'llloll- sin, but I
he rises with the dawn of day. All motion i--
disngrcable to him. You Beldomsee him run in
haste, never laugh, atrd his It tn;.'st walk i- to lie-co!
li".h"ii>e. lie does everything me-isiiredly,
gravely, and with a dignified air. never moving a
feature. In deep gravity one stalks near another <
in the -i reels; never do they play with each Other. .
Tin- rich man has always a swarm ofidlera, slaves.
and ministering spirits, about him, who wait on ■
him and ivtrry a!:' r him pipes and i lothes w hi n
ho goes to the bath. A little t!i ya him.
He amuses himsell mosl to in: contentment in
his harem, in bathing,smoking, and ! iktngr f-fee.
In this manner he kills Im lime with great
II nnity. When in some agreeable spot, un-der
;.. green tret. by a spring i i ■ ntain, ■ i :
fore a coflee-housc in the atedono
I. A- e mi hair, oi rum rating on a ] i f car-pi
■. tf , ..I < i ., rup ol cofli ■ id ■
I 'tk: then 1,. is m the be-t full ol
"Ot>ui |.;u!- ai random -.ru-v."
Mll..K-ri AKI .
H.:- ivim ih»: U'iaUfd •,<'•'•
Tiw ipirn fn enrhnni
Hi- £ra»;> uVr nature icll.
Creation owned l.i reign*
MIl.TvV
Mis spirit nil the honv:
Oftwpintioru liiyh;
A temple* who** huge dome
Was lii'Mcn [h \\w sky.
BYRON.
ll! irk rIon.I> hh fbrebcnd found*
Ami iM Ins (i el were bowerst
Mirth, Mndnen* Magic lound,
In linn ihcir keenest powers.
•iOiTT.
II- Rhlg*. uiitl lo! .toinivncr
Starts from its mouldering urn,
While Chivalrya bright lance
Anil nodding plumes return.
M'l.N-l If.
Within tli* enchanted womb
t »l his vast frcnnUf be
nrightatreama ami LTOVCS, wiiuat,- eloum
1> lit by Una's eye.
WORC-WORm.
llf bang hi- harp upon
I'hili-Mijiliy'N pura ihimc;
And i'l if tl by Naturo*! throne,
Cumpowd each i*!:iciil low*
WILSON.
His .-train, like holy liTtnn,
Upon the eard"th flout.
Or voice of chrnthim,
In mountaJn vale remote.
CRAY.
•S.nriiiL' on pinion pr<>u '..
The lightning! of his vyn
Scftle the hind, iliiiii'hr clouJ,
/ "lie parses swiftly by.
atnrjca.
. II«' veiled lit*1 couniry'i lyto
With ardent uru-p and strongf
Anil inn le nil Mill of lire
DinoiVe itwlf^i ff«ig.
PITMII:.
The Passiona are ihy slavosi
In varied gmae they ro'l
l*j"»" the atatcly waves
Ofthy majestic son!.
<AROIINI: aowtSS.
III carh of sable hue
Thv soul dwell- nil alonci
Where ihe sad drooping yew
Weeps O\T tlie funeral aluno.
inrMw-.
To bid the big tear start
■Unchalleng d from Its shrine*
Anil ilinll the qnivering bean
With pity*a voice, are Uiine.
TIOHK.
On ■•phvT'l amber wine*,
Like tnino own Psyche borne,
Thv hnoynnt spirit spring*
'J'o I.;:.I the bright eyed morn.
LANDON.
Romance and hfafo-oouTd love.
Like two commingling ntvarns
Glide ihro' the flowery gt> vo
Of thy enchanted dreams.
NOOUti
t n.wnM with perennial flow'.--.
BY Wit ami Qeniui move,
llf wanders through the bowers
OfFancy and oM^ove.
soi'THi;V.
Where NeonMnancy ftiajs
(-Yr eastern tanda her snolli
Sustain*d on Fable's winff-.
Hjl spirit loves to dwell.
coixnrs.
Waked into iniiuic lif«*.
Tlie !»;■->. 'ii- round him throng,
While the loud "Spartan life"
Thrills thru" hUStanding tow..
CAM em: LL.
With all that Natures lire
< 'an lend to bolieh'd Mt,
lie strikes hti gntcefw lyre
To thrill or « arm the heart.
roui-iiMii:.
\lamctan, whott dread spell,
Working in pale moonlHi',
From Sup-',-• '. ■!,'- cell
Invokes earh lataJBlu.
row rrn.
Religion*i Mtrhi is shed
I'pnn hi.s soul's ilark shrine,
\. •! Mci' v»*il- o'ef her head
\i hi- di noiiiiriii!' hue.
\-'\ Mi.
Involv'd in pall o In 11 ,
. Ii hauuti with fouutep dp ad,
The murderer'- midni [hi tomb,
And calls upon the deud.
ORXIIAMI.
Oh! when we hew [he bell
Of Sabbath chiming free,
I* strife's in like a kn ll,
And rnaJcpgiUs think ol thee.
W, I . BOWLKS,
From Natures flowery throne,
His spirit t-Ktk It- t': rht,
\inl moves serenely on
I', soft, tad, u nder lijrht,
siiEtLrv.
\ : olitary n>ck
ln a lav ill-1 ml sea,
K ::! !■;. t!i" tl)limit r' -:. '..
\n emblem •':.T;> vt ihee.
J. NONT00NI RV.
I pon thy tout iii'i • «ra n,
lli'lj iun'f i pirn fair
V Is d iwn like <!r >\ - of pi ti,
ind In nds divim Ij ih^rc.
i
« !■ ■*.• d in ilit rail bowV 1 i,
'Mi i truth ■ nd pa toi A ai ..
I !.• Mr- ii.- ; u'rv '■ im,
Fur ft iiii the t auni ol m n.
Tin -II s.
■ ■ n
. '
\'. i "■ i
. ..- .
i »n every fr«'",l"-' eceae
Thai rnovesjthe human breast
Puiheiic and ?er<n-*.
Thine eye delights to rc*t.
BAsnti cotum si L.
Soft is thv lay—n stream
MejUaOnng calmly bv.
Beneath the moon's pale beam
Ofaweet Italia'a sky.
CRABVR.
Would thou his pictures Imow,
Their power, their hairownr, tmAi
Th« ir acenos ol wrath or woe,
Oogase'on hnplci * •• Rath.*1
A. Cl KMPCOtlAM*
Tmdhion*: lyre he plays
VVrth hnn and skilful hand.
Bimrintr '1'*' olden lay«
< *i liia dear native Ian !•
KTAI-.
Fairtliy young spirit's mould--
TLou from whose heart un ^'r■.*alT..*
t u iwei t Bljsium roll'd
Over Endymiou'.- dr* am.-".
sroomfirLP.
Bweet bard, uiion thy tomb
In which thine asheV li**.
'Ihe stmple wild flowers bl- "»m
Before the plooghmari's eye.
Hoon.
ImiiHtrit I dare not thee.
For I'm v( fiu.iy brood ;
mpuftn
ForT
And t7iou woaual MSffftA r.ie
Wi'li pungtni hardiAoflrf
I1JBLIC OPINION.
" Mankind are apt to be BtfOngH j»rejudiccd m
favor of whatever \* countenanced by anti'juit}'**
> nforced by authority, and recommended by cus-tom.
The pleasure of ncquicscint* in the decis-ion
of oth> rs is by most men so much preferred
to the toil and hazard of inquiry, and to few are
■ /.her able OtdnTMaod to examine for themselves
that the voice of law will generally be taken for
the dictates of iuatlce.
•• Nor a it ihe weakness only of mankind that
inclines then to Jeok with a favorable eye on
what i.- estabushed; BOtnn of the most amiable
proporuntiei of tho haail lean in the name way—
rlefereoca to superior wisdom and tojrreatname*;
the lore of-fQiet, and the dread of confusion and
dJSOrdi r. Theae considerations will prevail over
minds which are too virtuous to be moved by a
gross aeh*intentta Further, thv <roiiffion of tlie
state will ever be the religion of toe vain and a«-
1 iring, A degTec of ridicule never fails to be at-tached
to a reliirious minority. In all tiic eflbrts,
of churchmen, their movements are facilitated hy
i lie current of public opinion, while dissenters aro
on every occ:iiion obstructed by public prejudice.
Thus churchmen fe*. out wi.h a partialityA their
side, which nothing but neglect and misconduc'.
can destroy i djasantorst with-a weight of suspi-cion
mil tii-i .'.•■. which nothing but discreet ant
exeilfplary bchttvi r run remce.**—Hubert Hul'.
FANATKQSM.
•• Fani'lcr-r.i, as fjr as we are at DfOaanJ cuti-earned
with it, may bo detined, Mich nn over-
Wnebning impression of ihe idea1! relatinsr to the
future world as dL"qualifies for tlio duties of life.*
" From ihe very nature of fanaticism, it i* an
■ ■ vil of short durntion. As it implies an UTOgoiar
; innxi'in-'tit or an inllam* d stale of the passion?,
WIIMI tbeao laturn to their natural state itsub-
Btdef. Nothuiff that i« violent will la.*t tiaog*—
The rtnadtaiea of the world and the business of
Ii!*' are admirably adapted to loate the excesses
of religious enthtisiasni* In a state where them
aro Mich Incessant calli to activity, wnerawant
preracB, desire allnros, and arnlntmn oaflames,
thore is little room to dread anexcossivoattention
to the objects of an inl i-.ble futurity.
•• A few rare exempli l of this kind mighl per*
haps bo found 1»\ diligent inquiry, over w huh in*
i lideliiy would triumph and piety dropa soar* |l
is not ur.coinuion, however, to liiitl those who a»
the commencement oftheir religious course liavo
betrayed symptoms ofamhnsiasm, becomo in the.
issne tho mrsM amiable cnaroctors. With the in-creaae
of knowledge the intenperate ardor of
their aval lias snbsides' into a steady iahh andfer-rent
eh:.ri';,. so as to oxcmpIUy ihe promised
scripture, thai "the pa.h of tho iiastt** shall be "a.:
the Banning kght, which shineth more and moro
unto the pcrfeet day." As '!i ■ energy ul ,:." r- -
ligioua principle is oxorWId in overcoming thn
world) so thai rarfiHy uf action and enlarged > \-
perienco which tho business of life supplies,
rvi toe irrect Its excesses and r^aimm its ab-ernuictu>
M—Hof»ri Jfaft.
Ihieffing,—Two IDUSUUH tea onenv ming met
-n a leaf in a garden*. Both were filled w rh t)i •
blood drawn trom their las) nocturnal depred'i-lions*
They wen- sih ut. and "dump* /'cixwsand
savage* One of them rail out hUstu :, aud |»oin'-
-■I ii towards 11*-- liiv. must) lito ! i'i is was c ti-
*id'-red an insult, and so the olleiided mu niito
Mips UO to the u;In i and . —■
**Did you turn up \v ir utms ,l m' '•
The answer was—"Iran ■ •' •■■; sting] you
r^D apply i* ii5 '."-i 11 -• *
Answi.—-.-::., mark n i i • "'
"I I ah !" . \'! limed tin - th^r, -.i d mi i.. I ii -
mil ' No vrul '■ N -'"'' i 1^.. quite will sul in I I
such Itenim-'W w illioui deniandmc xaliij'a '<
I 11 lillimi aiidd-
,/ic/.— \ man n •■•r. ■! ■. i
, ■■ r .-i '"• nts yew '::'''■'■.■ M
dim <!• !. ; I iiwirj t mid bui od, . i
• . i. *;■.:..• ■ , and was tl
urn v ''-r a fourth a
ml.
■' -. i . ■ •
null • . . : -:i .