Newspaper Page Text
wider "j>;>(•«■. :<n< 1 nriv pleasure anil instruction
home t j e \ cry bosom.-—[lb. ( I 1. I t UK OK I UK MINI). ( ulturc "1 tin1 understanding is. indeed,one ■ il the Im -I ineilioils of subduing the heart to softness, an i p deeming it Irnni tiiat savage ,| i|i'. in winch it tin) often conn s from the ii.tinl of nature. The more our reason is strengthen • il. I he heller 'In is enahh il to In e | * In i seat on the Ihiune, anil to emeiii those passu ns, which ui re a|ipointell to lie her suhjeets, hut uhieh too otien rehel anil succeed in their unnatural molt; leit lie.stiles the i licet ol im utal culture, in calling lurth anil increasing the pout rs ol the rras.iiiiiig laeullt. it seems to possess an n111*1 nil i n hum ini/iie/ the lei lilies, anil loeln rut ifig the native ilispositiuii. .Music, painting, anil pm try, teach the mintl to select the agreeable p uts ol those objects ivliich siirrounil it', ami hy habituating it to a pure nml permanent delight, gradually supi-riii ilucc an hahitu.il good humour It is of infinite importance to happiness, to accustom tin- mini! from infancy to turn from ilefonneil anil painlui scenes, anil to contemplate whatever can he found of moral and natural Inanity—the spirits under this benign management contract a milkiness. and learn to How all cheerily in their smooth and yielding channels—while, on the contrary, if the young mind is teized, fretted and neglect-d, the passage of the spirits becomes rugged, abrupt, exasperated, and the whole nervous system seems to acquire an excessive irritability. The ill treatment of children has not only made them wretched at the time, hut w retched for life, tearing the fine contextures of their nerves, and roughening by example and hy some, secret and internal influence, the vciy constitution of their tempers. AN KXTit ACT. Could we draw hack (lie covering of the tonili —Could »vc see what those are now, who once were mortal—Oh! how would it surprise and grieve, us to behold the prodigious tran-dorma tum that has taken place on every indiwdual— grieve us to see the dishonor done to our nature m gener;d. within these suhterraneoiislodgnienfs —here the sweet and winning aspect, that wore perpetually an attracting smile, grins horribly— a naked ghastly grin!—The eye that outshone the diamond's lustre, and glanced its lovely lightning into the most guarded heart—alas! where is it :’ How are all those radiant glories totally eclipsed That tongue that once com manded all the charms of harmony, and all the powers of eloquence, in this strange land hath forgot it' cunning. Where, where are the strains if nielodv w hieh rar ished our ear \\ here the flow of peisuas'on which carried captive our judgments .’ The great master of language and of song is become silent as the night w hich sur rounds him. MINI) AND MANNT'.KS. There seems to be some congeniality be tween a line form and a virtuous mind. When we meet an individual m the walks of life, who unites pleasing manners with beauty of person, ■ here |s none ih i* can within Id from him liie meed of approbation. I5ut if, on a iurther ac ipiaintanee. we discover that his principles are unsound. Ins feelings perverted, and Ins habits so inanv hypocritical assumptions, we arc com pelled to turn ourselves away in disgust. It is like the traveller who copies afar cfl a pleasant grove of orange trees, quivering in the western breeze. '1 he tinge of the fruit rivals the beams of the rosy sun; the fragrance of the branches scents the whole atmosphere: the traveller ap pro.o hes it in rapture, and discovers it the haunt of serpents, wild beasts, or w ilder Indians Such too often is the re-ult of cultiv ated acquaintance in the w oi Id. Printing.—From this invention, polite inter course and music proceeded ; reason and jus tice were made manifest; the relations of social life were illustrated ; law and language became fixed. Goveriiurs bad a rule to refer to: scho lars had authorities to venerate. The classical scholar, the historian, the mathematician, the u-tronomcr. none of them cai. do well without printing. Nature herself has furnished us with many allurements which overpower virtue and lull her asleep. POETHY. Ih/ron oil tin .Vnnsiun and Sepulchre r.f Petrarch. FROM CHI LI1F. H i HOI II. There is a tomb in Arqua ;—rear’d in air, Pillar’d in their sarcophagus, rope se The bones of i.aura’s lover ; here repair Many familiar with his well sung wots, Tilt pilgrims of his genius, lit* arose To raise a language, and his land rec laim I'runi the dull yoke of her barbaric foes: Watering the tree which hears Ins lady’s name With his melodious tears, lit gave hituarif to tame. They keep his dust in Arqua, where he died; The mountain village where Ins latter days Went down the sale of years ; and ’tis their pride— An honest pride—and let it he their praise, To other to the passing stranger’s ga/e llis mansion and Ins se pulchre , both plain And venerably simple, such as raise A feel ng more accordant with his strain Than if a py ramid form’d his monumental fane. And the soft quiet hamlet where he dwelt 1'or those who their mortality have felt, j And sought a refuge from their hopes decay’d In the deep umbrage of a green lull’s shade, W hich shows a distant prospect far away ()f busy cities, now in vain display’d, Tor they can lure no further ; and the rav Of a bright sun can make sufficient holiday. Developing the mountains, leaves, and flowers, And shining in the brawling brook, where-by, Clear as its current, glide the sauntering hours With a calm languor, which, though to the eye Idleness it seem, hath its mortality, If from society we learn to live, ’ Pis solitude should teach us how to die ; It hath no flatterers: vanity can give No hollow aid; alone—man with his l.od must strive. Or. it may he, with Demons, who impair The strength of better thoughts, and seek their prey 1 i melancholy bosoms, such as were Of moody texture from their earliest day, I And loved to dwell in darkness and dismay, Deeming themselves predestin’d to a doom Which is not of the pangs that pass away ; Making the sun like blood, the earth a tomb, The tomb s.lie'!. and hell itself a murkier gloom. The following effusion we have seen copied lute several respectable papers, without any acknow ledgement of the source hum whence it was de rived. For this reason, and with a view to restore it to its rightful owner, we state that it was writ ten by Mr. Uiuiilks Dim.lv.y, a worthy menibei oi the Method.si society, in Faris, Maine. [ ('hrisiiau „ hlvocat?. A SKKTCII FHOM NATUKF.. She knelt beside me—and mine eye once glanc’4 Upon her form ; ’twas but a glance ; but ne’er Fiom my remembrance vs ill it pass away ! Il< r arms were folded on her breast—her head B< w M down most nit ekl\, as became the place ■ Ami her daik eye-brow, and still darker hair, Smith d a countenance w herein was less • Oi beauty than expression. A was pale , As is the hh in the spring: it bore Some touches of the tiame’s and mind’s disease, 1 Some suffering and some w o. Her halt closed «. v «■ j \\ as bent to earth, anil shaded by a lash, S.lkv n and shining as the raven’s w ing, i lit r lip was motionless, and it did seem 1 As though her supplication sped at once Forth trom In. r pious bosom to her («oti. i "Fliere w as a witheia <1 flow er on In r to t .<st— j Perchance an emblem of the hopes winch tin \ *c Had blossom’d, and there tailed. I have \ h-w \\ Woman in man; a scene. 1 have Ik held i Her gay and glorious in the ft stive hail, | F.ager of conquest ; ami I, too, have n»a?ked 'Flie winning languish and seductive smile, j Both dear and dangerous to the youthful hi ait j And I ha\ e strav M, with beauty bv my side, j Through the still glade, at evening’s placid horn, ; By the pale radiance of the moon, whose beam Hath silver’d o’er her smiles, and she hath look'd As she had thrown her soul into her eves. Nav, 1 have view’d her by the fever’d bed ; Of sickness, pillow the pale cheek and bathe The fainting brow, and like a form of light ' Whispering peace w here else there had been none ; But never, by the side nf woman yet, ! Such thrilling and uneuithlv feelings stele j On ifiv o’eu barge^ heart, as when I saw I That pious maiden commune with hei Hoi>. SON NF.T. 1 A'C thou ait welcome—heav< n’s delicious breath ’ ! W ie n w nods begin to w e ai the crimson leaf, I And suns grow meek, and tiie meek suns grow but t. And the veai smiles as it draws near its death. \\ mil of the sunny South—O long delav in the gay woods and in the golden air— Like to the good old age, released from care, .Tourneying, in long serenity away. In such a bright late quiet, would that 1 Might wear out life, like thee, ’mid bowers an£ brooks, And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, : And music of kind voices ever nigh ; And, when my last sand twinkled in the glass, Fasssilentlv from men as thou dost pass. — THK VIOLET. ; On being arl cd by a Lady irhy Jriokll were gene rally found in a Country Church-Yard. You ask nit- why the Violet blooms Amongst the silent dead : And why amidst the monld’ring tombs. It loves to real' its head. i Sweet woman there is often seen To dew the ground with tears, And where her angel form has been, j Her favorite flower appears. Then, when she comes to deck the grave. Where her heart’s tr< asnre lies, She finds a garland ready made To grace her obsequies.