Indiana Palladium, Volume 1, Number 5, Lawrenceburg, Dearborn County, 4 February 1825 — Page 4

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The following lines were composed and sung by

professor Pierpont, at the celebration of the land

ing of the Pilgrim Fathers at Plymouth, in 1G20, on

the 22d of December, 1S24. SOJV67. The pilgrim fathers where are they? The waves that brought them o'er Still roll in the bay, and throw thir spray As they break along the shore: Still roll in the bay, as they rolled that day When the May-Fkiiccr moored below, When the sea around W3S black with storms, And white the shore with snow.

Ciorus-Still roll in the bay, as they rolled that

day, &c. The mists, that wrapped the pilgrim's sleep, Still brood upon the tide; And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep, To stay its wares of pride. But the snow-white sail, that he garc to the gale When the Heavens looked dark, is gone; As an angel's xring, through an opening cloud, Is seen, and then withdrawn.

Chorus It is gone from the bay where it spread,

&c. The pilgrim exile sainted name! The hill, whose icy brow Rejoiced, when he came, in the morning's flame, In the morning's flame bums now. And the moon's cold light, as it lay that night On the hill side and the sea, Still lies where he laid his houseless hsad; But the pilgrim where is he?

Chorus lie is not in the bay, as he was that day,

&c. The pilgrim fathers are at rest: When Summer's throned on high, And the world's warm breast in its verdure drest, Go, stand on the hill tvhere they lie. The earliest ray of the golden day On that hallowed spot is cast: And the evening sun, as he leaves the world, Looks kindly on that spot last. Chorus Not such was the ray that he shed that day, &c. The pilgrim spirit has not fled: It walks m noon's broad light; And it watches the bed of the glorious dead,

With the holy stars, by night. It watches the bed of the brave who have bled, And shall guard this ice-bound shore.

Till the waves of the bay, where the Jtfay-Flower

lay, Shall foam and freeze no more. Chorus It watches the bed of the brave, Sec.

IMOGENS,

OR THE HISTORY OF A COQUETTE.

CHAPTER THE LAST, "The only art her guilt to cover, "To hide her shame from every eye, "To give repentance to her lover, "And wring his bosom, is to die." It is unnecessary that we should. enter into a minute detail of all the petty transactions that passed between Imogine and Sedgwick during their voyage across the

Atlantic. 1 here was, of course, tnc usual quantity of sea-sickness, storms, and wind, pleasant and unpleasant weather, and all

the novelty which attracts the attention of!

those who arc unused to a sea-faring hie: let it suffice to say, that by the time the vessel arrived in London, our dissembler had, by his exemplary conduct and respect

ful attentions, induced Imogine to believe

that she had mistaken his character

of thirtv davs, with a confiding heart, and a fair prospect of spending her remaining days, if not affectionately, at least contentedly, with the man who had sworn that be loved her, and only her. . Sedgwick procured splendid apart mei its

fjr her accommodation furniture and ap

parel, of the most costly kinds, were purchased, to gratify her vanity. Delicacies and luxuries, of every variety, were placed in extravagant profusion before her. Imogine considered it all as a testimony of hi? love, and felt gratitude for his kindness. The day was fixed for the consummation of their nuptials, and Imogine looked, with anticipated rapture, for a day she was doomed never to behold. It was a pleasant afternoon in summer, as Imogine sat amusing herself with a book, and lolling on a sofa, when Sedgwick entered the apartment. He seized the hand which was extended to welcome him, and pressed it to his bosom. "Imogine,-' said he, ''in a few days, we shall be united for ever. I feel my heart overflow with gratitude to the Giver of all good, that He at last gives us a prospect of happiness."' 'Sedgwick, there was a time when I teas,

happy, I know that I have been guilty; I

am convinced of my errors, and trust that I

will obtain pardon of my God for all my sins, which owe their rise to nothing save a giddy thoughtlessness."

"I doubt it not, sweet angel: I feel that

T, too, am much to blame; but if sincere repentance can gain an entrance to that Un

discovered country, I think I too may yet

lie there.

'Do you think,' said she, "we shall be

happy? Oh, Sedgwick! vou know my for

mer nature ; you know that I loved George."

'Would that Imogine could love me so.' 4;I think I feel it to be impossible. When

a child, I loved him, and now that ho is dead, it can surely be no crime to sav it.

c cannot undo or help what happened in

our younger days; but you may rest assur

ed of this: I love no being now on earth so

well as vou. There is mv hand: I rnvo it

mJ J 7-W-w.

rccly; and oh! Sedgwick, for the love of

icaven, for pity to me on account of what

I have suflered, be constant me. I will b

a faithful wife an honest one, and if I have crimes to answer for, you have been be

cause of some of them. But I forgive you.

and feel confident that, when wedded.

though guilty, we shall live repentant.' Scenes of former days crowded upon the memory of Imogine as she uttered this, and tears filled her eyes. Sedgwick kissed them off, and pressed the charmer to bis bosom. There was so much kindness in his manner, so much feeling expressed in his countenance, that the poor girl thing her arms around his neck, and wept bitterly. It was

a moment for which he had watched, and he

revealed at once, by his actions, the fell designs of his soul. His demoniac spirit was

laid naked to the eye of Imogine, and she

now beheld in him the base and heartless

seducer. He stood before her as he w as.

a fiend, fresh from the dark pit of the world's pollution. She recoiled with horror from

his accursed embrace; she struggled in his fangs, and attempted to scream,"while lie

rudely caught her throat. Sedgwick was

not the first who combined complete success

with the basest ol purposes.

would have plunged it to the heart of the cler-j the sphere of his sight he happens to be un

gyman, had not his uplitted arm been arrested by one of the domestics who wrenched the weapon from him. He broke from the grasp of George, and rushed up the stairs with the velocity of lightning, pursued by the servants, whom George had ordered to seize him. lie gained the roof of the house, and sprang from it o the earth. The immense height caused him to be dashed to atoms in the fall. Tiis unsummoned spirit left itfrail tenement, and appeared, black with crime, at the bar of his God. Imogine recovered her senses a few moments before her death, and recognised George. He forgave her all thot had pass

ed, and she expired in his arms, with

prayer upon her lips for his nappiness. Thus ended the career of a woman, who, had she learned to govern her passions, might have been a blessing and an ornament to society. George is still alive: lie has devoted his days to the cause of the Gospel he has grown old in the service of ins Maker. The frosts of sixty years have whitened las locks.

and bear an honorable testimony ol a k;e well spent. He has never been wedded, and his "smooth, pale, sentimental brow wears so melancholy an aspect, that it need' not the language of ti e tongue to inform the inquirer that his hopes are all in Him who has enabled him to survive the keenest pangs which can possibly wring the heart.

It is useless to attempt a description of Imcgine's feelings the next morning. She

entered the garden at the back of her house, loosely clad in white: her face was pale as

tier robe; her eyes seemed starting from

eneve toeir sockets; her hps were of ashy hue , and wbijc her unfinished sentences and vaean:

I miij ucL uiiniiiMiuu tJiiic:nces aim vacant

that all his errors had sprung from an un- stare gave a melancholy evidence, that re

bounded affection for her. She belicvcd'son had been driven from her throne. Tho

that he was sincere in his protestations, and

domestics conveyed her to her chamber,

wished that she could feel a return lor Ins where medical aid was immediately nrocu-

passion. Her dislike of him daily dc- red. Vain was the physician's art the

creased, and she at length imagined that

she loved him. For the third time, she resolved to bestow her heart and hand upon one who appeared entirely devoted to her welfare. So fickle is the mind of an accomplished coquette, that she forced herself to believe him, because she hoped that belief might rest on a firm foundation; and, by degrees, she forgot the deception he had

used to induce her to accompany him m the voyage. Sedgwick had informed her of her mothers death. The news fell like molten lead upon her heart: at first, she could not be

lieve her senses, and when convinced of the

malady was one which no skill could cure, no remedy alfect. Sedgwick stood by her bedside, motionless as a statue. He contemplated his victim, writhing in all the agonies of madness, and soliciting heaven to shower down im

precations and curses on the head of her dc

From (he York Mirror. IMPRISONMENT FOR DEBT. Man has been studying human nature since the creation of the world, and has not yet been able to ascertain its character. There always has been, and there always will be, a Byron to rail, bate, and despise it, and a Moore, to go through the world like a meteor through an evening sky, Sc attribute to the objects around him that brilliancy and beauty which emanate from himself alone. As for me, if the opinion of an obscure and unpresuming individual, like myself, will bear an intrusion on the public notice, I believe that it is naturally depraved. Not that I think we are born possessed of vice, but formed peculiarly exposed to its temptations, without a sufficient degree of strength either to avoid or overcome them. If the natural character of man is not sinful, whv have we laws and punishments ? The very strongest governments ever instituted have been unable entirely to restrain the exuber

ance of selfishness and malignity, which is every day displayed around us. Not the horrors of the public execution could para

lyze the uplifted arm of the murderer his nature breaks from its restraints, and the

deed is perpetrated, under the mistaken idea

that it can be concealed. It is an unanswera

ble argument in favour of this position, that the virtuous are generally so from compul-

lon, while the powerful are almost always

cruel and corrupt. The private citizen is benevolent, because he has no object in cru

elty sufficient to counterbalance the pleasure his generosity produces, therefore his virtue is but harmless selfishness. He steals

not his neighbour's goods, because punish

ment and disgrace will overtake him. He

heats not his servant, because the hand of

pi-lice protects the rights of his; fellow man as well as his own. Wherever be can oppress without endangering himself, you mav be assured the opportunity is not permitted

to pass v, llhout gratifying his natural inclin

fortunate the storm has desolated his lands

the red lightning has cleft his dwelling asunuer his ships are all broken and wrec tied, and his choice treasures have served but the avarice of the waves. His fellow man, perhaps owes him, and Is unable to comply with hUju-t demands; or mayhap purposely make- Ills confidence his ruin. He stands aloof, and distinguished bv the blading hand of sorrow lie would draw bimvelf tor awhile into some retirement, and devise new means to satisfy his creditors and himself. I jut no "the reasoning savages" gather around him, like vampyro? gorging themselves with blood, sucked from the throat of the sick man. They pursue l.im they bunt him down they tramrde i n him ruthlessly they cast, him into prison Cold, hungry, and bent down with sorrow -thev leave him nlor.c in his anguish 4ipcrhaps starving or freezing, unprotected, and then beseech, in the shallow offering oftbeir hypocritical devotions uthat God will forgive them as they forgive their debtor?."' Whv look at yourselves, ve usurpers of your fellow creature's rights v, iekedness has raised a monument to your memoryno more gloomy ami disgusting than the heart that approve its existence. It ftand in the Park, in black contrast to the beautiful purity of the temple, which stands at its side, and in mockery of the sword, whhh is too short to reach it, or if it were not. which is too dull to destroy its polluted Avails. A time will come for our posterity to judge; of us. They will gh e tin; definition of our jail in its t rue terms. The dungeon, where Americans buried alive the unfortunate ef their nation. The gloomv don in which freemen starved their old soldiers Sc friends, who were convicted of the crime of poverty; or the high and unshaken monument, rait ed by inhumanity and vice, to show ihe swav she yet: held over the hearts of men. The more I reflect on the laws, the more astonished I am that it is permitted in the present age. Strip the mind of all p:eju: dice in its favour; let the reader forget that custom has made it appear just, and observe the subject on the bread basis of moral right. God created all men equal. They .start in different occupations. One pursues the dream of ambition, and another follows the sweet vision of love. Some investigate ihe profound secrets of nature; and others labour to perfect themselves in the practice of various arts. In the employment which each has chosen, one is unfortunate, another is guilty. One loses that which he has; earned by the sweat of his brow; perhaps i r . i i i . .

ii iom irom ms possesion ny the brutal violence of another, and both the injurer and injured, the robber and the robbed, must meet the same fate, of imprisonment and disgrace.

A FABLE LY DR. FUAXKLIX. "Once upon a time, an eagle scaling round a farmer s barn-yard, and espying a hare, darted down upon him like a sunbeam, seized him in his claws, and re-mounted with him in the air. He soon found that1 he had a creature of more courage and strength than a hare, for which, notwithstanding the keenness of his eye-sight he had mistaken a cat. The snarling and scrambliug of the prey was very inconvenient, and what v,a worse, she had disengaged herself from his talons, grasped his body with her fore limbs, so as to stop his breath, and seized fast hold

of his throat w ith her teeth. 'Pray,' said the

eagle, 'let go your hold, and I will re leas?.

ations wilhimpuniiy. Tome there is nothingjyou. 'Very fine,' said the cat, 'I have no

dearer tnan my freedom. It is the univer- fancy to fall from this height and be crushsal and direct gift of God to all his crea- ed to death. Vou have taken me up, and lures. He bestowed it upon them as he you shall stoop and let me down.' The eadid air, and light, because it was absolutely le thought it necessary to stoop accord-

.1 1 -r w I .

necessary to meir Happiness, lie made no'

being imprisoned. The fish swims and

sports through his wide waste of water; the bird dances in his unbounded career through the ocean of air; the lion ranges in the forest; and the lordly stag bounds over the mountain. The whole great mass of his lhing creatures, from the golden-winged insect that displays his burnished wings in the sunny breeze, to the gigantic mammoth,

mgiy.

Few persons have lived long in the world and engaged in its disputes and squabbles, who have not, one time or another, mistaken a cat for a hare.

stroycr. Her sunken eye and quivering liplmajestie in the greatness of his form, bav

proclaimed her moments numbered. If ever man felt the burning stings of remorse,

bedgwick felt them. He turned aside, and

all powers of motion, and passions, & wants.

to call those powers into exercise.

Man is peculiarly gitted with a love of

Manufacture of paper. It is pleasant (c consider the changes that a linen fragment undergoes in the manufacture of paper. The fincit pieces of Holland, when worn into tatters, as-ume a new whiteness more beautiful than their first, and often return in shape of letters to their native country.

A lady's handkerchief may be metamorphosed into a billetdnnx. and ccme into her no -

would have left the room, had not the door! freedom. His mind is a portion of divinity

opened for the entrance of a clergyman. (separated for a time from the great whole.'sesion a second tim- A beau may n,rK.

. 1 ". t 1 1 . 1 . A , i ! II- -1111- , . . . 1

nnu ikiu umi suiimiuuuu. i ui a ?oicniii,' aim ai w a uirooDing iiii an luuiscrmaiuc; nis cravat alter it n worn out "with fn-pitr

horrid truth, she burst into a paroxism of

despair. Anguish, which she hail never

felt before, tilled her bosom. 4Matricide!" exclaimed she, "what have I done ? Wretch that I am! where shall I seek for comfort?" She was confined to her cabin for a week, in a state of partial derangement, when at length, by degrees, she recovered, and her

mind settled down in that serene sorrow.

I dignified step, he approached the bed. Hi

whole appearance was prepossessing, and he seemed like one who came to rob the sufferer of nothing but her sorrows. With an involuntary emotion, he started bade as his eye rented on her face; and, tottering to a chair, he covered his face with bis

hands, and wept aloud. Sedgwick advanced to learn the cause of this unexpected

emotion, and saw in the face of the minister

which shows that desolation is spread a-ih0 lost George Denton. He started back,

when the stranger caught his arm. 4-7il-

round the heart.

The assiduous attention of Sedgwick had, in a great measure, dispelled the cloud of sorrow which hung around her, and she landed on Albion's shores, after a pas-age

lain ! exclaimed the exasperated George,

"have 1 indeed lound you?"

bedgwick struggled, and drew the poig

nant he always carried about ..him, and streams with is broad splendoi.ir tiaougi

ambition to be reunited with its parent God.

His soul is beautified with high aspirings. Hopes of the most bewitching fascination passing through bis mind like clouds through a clear summer sky. His spirit is alwavs

on the wing he wishes to float with the eagle, and run with the deer. He presumes to follow the track of the great whale over the ocean, and usurps the range of the lion

on the land. He plunges deep amidst the wonders of the sea, and rises in his ingenious balloon among the inhabitants of the air. Endued with all his roving pleasure, or desire, ever gr.zing wistfully at the long and iierv track of the wandering comet, that

pleasure and advantage than he ever did in

the glaes. In a word, a piece of cloth, after having officiated for seme years as a towel or -napkin, may become, the most valuable piece of furniture in a Prince's Cabinet. Addison.

Law is liko a thornbush. dangerous to be handled; liko a bunch of fish-hooks, full of catches; and like bad weather, most people choose to keep clear of it. He who imagines perfection exists in man, shows his want of it bv so thinking. M m! know thyself all wisdom centers there. ' Praise undeserved f: satire in disguise.