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POETRY. Human Life— By Bernard Barton Esq. "In the morning it (lourisheth, am' grow eth up; in the evening it is cut down, anil Withereth." —Psalm xc. 6. I walk'd the fields at morning's prime, The, grass was ripe for mowing, The sky-lark sang his matin chime, And all was brightly glowing. VAnd thus," I cried, "the ardent-boy, H : s pulse with rapture beating, Life's inheritance is jov The future proudly greeting." I wandered forth at noon: —alas! On earth's maternal bosom Th? svthe had left the withering gras, And stretch'd the fading blossom. And thus, I thought with many a sigh, The hopes we fondly cherish, Like flowers which blossom but to die, Seem only born to perish. Once more, at eve, abroad 1 stray'd, Through lonely havfields musing; While every breeze that round me play'd Rich fragrance was diffusing. The perfumed air, the hush of eve, To purer hopes appealing , O'er tho'ts perchance too prone to grieve, Scatter'd the balm of healing. For thus "the actions of the just," When Memory hath inshrined them, E'en from the dark and silent dust, Their odour leave behind them. FROM THE NATIONAL GAZETTE. ■Oft when the glowing tints of Autumn's even Have o'er the west their golden radiance flung — Soft as that hallowed light that burst from Heaven, When seraph minstrels to the shepherds sung— When not a cloud has on the horizon hung; When stillness has her peaceful mantle spread, -» And calmed e'en whispering zephr into rest — Jlush?M each discordant note, and gently shed H?r holy, happy influence o'er the breast; Thus have 1 thought the righteous seek repose, Thus snine refulgent* ere their labours close. But dearer far to me the evening hour, When, from the earth in massive columns roli'd High up the blue empyrean, vapours low- Pr > And leave below a glorious space of gold; For thus I've hop'u, though clogg'd with earthy mould, Tho' Sin her cloudy veil around me cast, — When all my little hour of life is told, And all my errings and repentings past— Thus have I hop'd shall Faith disperse the gloom, And thus with peaceful promise gild the tomb. C. DELWYNNE. SCRIPTURE TRANSLATION. The Parable of the Prodigal Son, Luke 15; 11—31; with Remarks. MS (PCJJtfWtKfI, (PcJXF AO»P AG«rr. MS 'XV, 11. JJDZ qjB4T. y® WP 3S3hr Dli<»»<3 t)/LPT. 12. dShZ R. 4 J)D qjU4iT WAV, RAt, J)XTP TGTPOBAJ Ivy JEC*<S*I Gf»XI.AT»T #BEB. tCfZ hSi JE&.S.I (PAT S^AftfT. 13. < z «R-<I *ii tut cjair usr «\iJGR./IT, 6-V* (Pliy4T, TO" 0»«»0"4T, 6t*2 RAT «TBA/T JEO,(?J[ CAT. 14. hSJ'Z TCSO* CPetih JB&T o>G.l (PA" , CPJO-fT (PS^O-^IT. 15. 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TRAITS OF INDIAM CHARACTER. 2ue following beautiful remarks aie jro.n ja«^/Washingxonleving, in tlie AnElec- TIC iViAGJZINE. "in the piesent times, when popu lar feeling i( gradually becomcing Uai pened by w}r, and selfish by the ire quent jeopafdy ol lite or property, it is certainly an insuspicious moment 10 speak 111 bihali ol a race ol beings, whose very (existence has been pio uounced act imental to public secuii ty. But it s good at all times to raise the voice oftruth, however leebie; 10 endeavor if possible to mitigate the fury of passion and prejuuice, anu to tun* asKiejtfie bloody hand of violent e. Little inteieit, however, can proba bly be awalened at present, in lav or ol the misguiued tribes of Indians that have ben. drawn into the present war. The right} of the savage have seloom been aeejJji appreciated by the white man—in |eace he is the dupe of mei cenaiy a'city, in war he is regard ed as a ferocious animal, whose death is a question of mere precaution ahc convenitn.le. Man is cruelly waste ful of life uhen his own safety is en dangered and he is sheltered by impu nity — anc j jjttle mercy is to he expect ed from hiii who feels the stirg 01 the reptile, and is conscious of the power to destroy. "It has l|een the lot of the unfortu nate aborigines of this country, to be doubly wrcnged by the white men — first, driven from their native sod by the sword of the invader, and then darkly shrdered by the pen of the his torian. The former has tieated them lil e beasts of the forest; the latter has written vermes to justify him in his outrages. The former founu it "easi er to exte.knmate than to civilize; the use than to discriminate. — s cppellations 01 savage & latter to ..I The intieu. pagan, were sufficient to sanction the tleadly hostilities of both; and the poor wanderers of the forests were persecu ted and dishonored, not because they were guilty, but because they vtere ig norant. ' : The same prejudices seem to ex ist, in common circulation, at the pie sent. day. We form our opinions of the Indian character from the misera ble hordes that infest our frontiers.— These, however, are degenerate beings, enfeebled by the vices of society, without being benefited by its arts of living. The Independence of thought and action, that formed the main pil-- lar of their character, has been com pletely prostrated, and the whole mo ral fabric lies in ruins. Their spirits are debased by conscious inferiority, and their native courage completely daunted by the superior knowledge & power of their enlightened neighbours. advanced upon them like a mmy-headed mooter, breath ing every variety of misery. Before it, went forth pestilence, famine and the sword; and in its train came the slow, but exterminating curse of trade. What the former did not sweep away, the latter has gradually blighted. It has increased their wants, without increasing the means of grat ification. It has enervated their strength, multiplied their diseases, blasted tie powers of their minds and superinduced on their original barbarity the low vices of civilization. Poverty, repining and hopeless pover ty —a canker ol the nund unknown to sylvan life—corrodes their very hearts.—-They loiter like vagranis through the settlements, among spa cious habitations replete with artifi cial comforts, which only render them sensible of the comparative wretch edness of their own condition. Lux ury spreads its ample hoard before their eyes, but they are expelled from the banquet. The forest which once furnished them with am of subsistence has been leve ground—waving fields of grain have sprung up in its place; but they have no participation in the harvest; plen ty revels around them, but they are starving amidst its stores; the whole wilderness blossoms like a garden, but they feel like the reptiles that in fest it. "How different was their case while yet the undisputed lords of the soil. Their wants were few, and the means of gratifying them within their reach. They saw every one a round them sharing the same lot, en during the same hardships, living in the same cabins, feeding on the same aliments, arrayed in the same rude garments. No roof then rose, but what was open to the houseless stran ger, no smoke curled among the trees, but he was welcome to sit down by its fire, and join the hunter in his re past. "For," says an old historian of New-England, "their life is so void of care, and they are so loving also that they make use of those things they enjoy as common goods, and therein so compassionate that rather than one should starve throughout, they would starve all: thus do they pass their time merrily, not regarding our pomp, but are bette- content with their own, which some men esteem so meanly of," Such were the Indiens while in the pride and energy of primi tive simplicity: they resemble those wild plants that thrive best in the shades of the forests, but which shrink from the hand of cultivation, and per ish beneath the influence of the sun. ]to be continued.] PRECIPICE OF KOLAU. From the Journal of Mr. Stewart, late Missionary to the Sandwich Islands, recently published— It seemed like enchantment, to fnd myself transported, in the short space of an hour, from the dusty plain, stag nant pools, dreary beach, and various desolations of the sea-side, to the fresh ness and verdure, luxuriance and bloom of a woodland region, where the eye rested only on objects of gran deur and beauty, and the ear caught no sounds amid the solitude of the for est, but the chirping of birds, the mur murs of the mountain stream, or the dashing of the distant cascade. The path we took led up the valley, immediately in the rear of the villi ge. As this gradually contracted from a v\ idth of three to that cf one mile, the scenery became more and more picturesque and delightful till at a distance of five miles from Honoruru, it far surpasses any thing I have ever witnessed. The mountains are so lofty and so graceful in their outlines; so rich and beautiful in their foliage; so diversified by dark grottos, project ing cliffs and spouting waterfalls— while all below presents an exube rance of vegetation almost incredible; that I cannot but think it among the finest of the exhibitions of nature, in a state of undisturbed simplicity and wildness. Such was the character of the scenery for the two last miles of the walk, while our path led suc cessively through glade, copse, and dell, and was frequently, for long dis tances together, entirely embowered by the interlacing branches of the spreading hau-tree, species of hybiscus. After ascending from one of these dark passages, Mr. Bingham suddenly cautioned me against the violence of the wind we should soon meet. At the same time, the rushing of heavy blasts was heard, intimating, like the roarings of a cataract, or the murmer ingg of a volcano, an approach to 1 one of the most sublime phenomena of na ture; and on abruptly turning the an °lle of a projecting rock—with an ad miration approaching to terror—l found myself balancing in strongly conflicting currents of air, on the brink of a pre cipice, little less than a thousand feet in perpendicular descent, without the parapet of a sinjle stone to guard a gainst the fatal consequences of a false step. Immediately before me, at the foot of this tremendous offset, in mos* perfect bird's-eye view lav a widely extended, cultivated !> n d thickly !" I habited country, against whose dis- taut shores the peaceful bil'o , the Pacihc were rolling, inever-vn, ing and snowy brightness; while f;.i U er sail, the blue wateis of the o. t;«» rose in gradual aseent, still apparent ly midway between heaven and earth, they met the sky, in a haziness that $ j rendered either distinguishable from the other, only by the regularity of a scarcely discernible horizon. To the right and to the left, within a stone s throw of the rock on which I stood, two richly covered peaks rose many tliOUOami lCt/t Tny iV j ft »| while beyond them, on either side, summit after summit of mountains, Kn whose broad bases were planted in the * valley below, appeared in long per- ; spective, still with a semicircle sweep < both terminated in the sea by bold and romantic head-lands, rendered more picturesqe by a partial continuation of detached cliffs & islets. In full view behind, was the bautiful valley thro' which we had ascended, gradually sinking, from the very spot on which we stood, to the now miniature town and port of Honorurur, beyond which again rose u the illimitable sea." The sublimity of the whole v\%s not a little increased by the almost over whelming sounds of the trade wind, ■ as it swept along the mountains, which resisted its progress to this narrow pass, and through which it rushed with irresistible velocity and power, bearing in its broad current and whirl ing eddies, leaves, sand and even peb bles; which might claim >i;e name stones. Such was the effect of this, that though every thing far and near gleamed in the brishtness of a cloud less sky and noon-day sun, I could not resisi the im ression that we were standing amidst the ragings of a tern-- pest; an illusion not diminished by the harsh s reams of the sea-gull and cry of the tropic bird, as they passed us on rapid wing to the lof y peaks above or hastened again to sail in the calmer regions beneath our feet. to tl None but an atheist could have kept / his thoughts from rising to that Being of majes'y and power, who "founded the earth and hnng it upon nothing;" "who formed the mountains and crea ted the wind;" —" who shut up the sea, and said, hitherto shalt thou come, but no farther; and here shall thyj proud waves be st aid." And in thdl lively cnnt*m s .. .-m.-ofthf fflgnTH wisdom and ouinipotcnce that over-* loot s and upholds the mighty wonder si of the universe, we could not but feel the force of humbling interrogative, " 0 Lord, what is man, that motf art mindful of him, or the son of man, thn f TBfyu visitest him?" The battle that decided the fate of Oahu, in the conquests of Tamehame ha, in which he trained the victory that made him the sole monarch of the grouD, was fought in the valley lend ing from Honortiru to this pass. The kin* Oahu, after a desperate conflict, fell bravely at th;; bead of his army; up on which a complete rout ensued. One than hundred warriors, fled tr.\virds this precip>'ce f and were pursued so closely and with such relentless purpose, as to have boon plunred, v ivout nn orfp' 1 depths below!—H'eai. Rcc. Mount Ararat.—Nothing can be i more beautiful than the shape of Ara rat; nothing more awful than its height. All the surrounding mountains sink in to insignificance when compared to it. It is perfect in all its parts. No rug ged features—no unnatural promin ences. Every thing is harmony; and all combines to render it one of the most interesting objects in'nature. Spreading originally from an immense base, the slope towards its summit is k easy and gradual, until it reaches the ' regions of snow, where it becomes more abrupt. As a foil to this stu pendous object, a smnll hill rises from the same base, similar in shape, and in any other situation entitled to rank among high mountains. No one since the flood seems to have been on the summit of Ararat. £or the rapid cent of its snowy top appears to render the attemnt impossible. No man«w certainly has pscerded it in times. WVn the adventurous Tourne* fort failed, it is not probable that one else has succeeded.—Asiatic Jour nal. i ANECDOTE. "Make way, ijentlemen," onge cri* , ed a Massachusetts representatives to ' - S'v the ponulace, who were crowding him o'it of h;s in the procession on election dav, "make way; we are the ' renresentatives of the pponle." "Make wav vo'irself," replied a stnr» dv member of throng, "wearethf people themselves." p 0 ry- f| 1 -