Public Leger, Volume 2, Number 64, Richmond, Wayne County, 11 June 1825 — Page 4
X
FOETUS.
TAME, WEALTH, BEAUTY, and RELIGION Victor, what avails Ibe wreath, That erst entwfn'd thy Orow? Alas! those flowers no longer breathe, For death hath laid thee low ; Ah ! what avails the storied urn, That blarons forth thj fame? That sculptured rase to death shall tare; Oblivion hlot thj name. And what avails those scars so deep, Received in battle fray They're proofs of valor! Time shall sweep, All valor's proofs awaj : And what avails the poet's sen;. That sounds thy praises forth The poet's head shall rest re long, Upon its mother earth. Avarice' what avails thy dreams Of happiness from gold? Thy funeral torch already gleams; Thy days on earth are told ; What now avails thy hoarded wealth? Is it with thee inurned ? I?o Naked from the earth you came, And naked have you turned.' BcaTv! what avails the rose, Thai decks th) dimple cheek? Age on thy head shall strew his snows, And death his vengeance wreak: And what avails thj form so fair, Or eyes so daxiling bright? That form shall waste 'neath sullen care, Those suns hall set in night. But blest Religion ! much avails Thy hope of bins in heaven! For though the bark, by adverse galef, On death's 'ark shore be driven, Yet thou canst smile thy steady eye Can pierce the cheerless gloom, An1 view through dark eternity, The day-spring of the tomb.
THE HAPPY MOTHER. Me thinks the prettiest touch of earthly bliss, Is when a mother gazes on her child ; Her infant babe, and gives that long, sweet kiss Which thrills the soul with ruptures soft and wild. Tracing with rapid eye, its little form. As on her lap, Vc tiny creature smiles, Cmblem of innocence! to which her warm, Fond bosom swells in love, that fear beguiles. fow at arm's length she feats her lonciug gre, Then quirkly darts it to her pouting lip ; View? it still o'er ant! o'er, while glad she plays. And from its mouth seems homed joy to sip. Oh! thrilling transport! unalloy'd iltlight, Her little world f happiness is there: Th e jojous pnJe which makes her torrows light, And well repays her for a mother's care. Bat hush! joung sleep now lights upon its brow, Her half-i'rawn breath may net disturb its rest; With gentlest motion see it press'd and now 'Th oftlj pillow'd on her downy breast.
From the Saturday Evening Post. Among the dangerous evils which the moralist and the statesman have equally' to lament, Drunkenness ma? he considered the most alarming Fatal alike to reputation and to health, disgusting in its appearances, and debasing in its effects; it has nevertheless grown into a custom, which, by impending weight may bear down the pillars of our national prosperity. The frequent presence of its miserable victims has rendered the sight so familiar, that we often pass without observation, the most abject and miserable condition in which human nature can be placed. It is not, however, my present purpose to trace the progress of this vice through- the lower classes of society. Causes, natural at least, if not satisfactory, may he assigned for the prevalence of a practice, which here requires some strength of mind, and some fortitude to withstand; but when genius and worth, when talents and virtue, when b heart warmed with sympathy, and glowing with benevolence, a mind rich in every sentiment that constitutes excellence, fall miserable victims to deadly inebriation, when shall we where can we look for a cause adequate to the effect? To what corrupted principle of our nature shall be ascribed this melancholy degradation this contravention of heaven's design this sub jugation of man's noblest powers this perversion of his morals destruction of his health, and annihilation of his reason' Disappointment is most generally urged as the cause why we have so often to mourn over genius, benevolence and worth thrown into magnificent ruins by the' 'foul tiend' inebriation. Yes, some earnest desire defeated some imaginary or real good destroyed some tcheme of greatness vanished into air, often throws an impenetrable cloud over the future prospects of life. Disappointment raises feelings too keen to be endured, and as if to show to what debasement human nature will bend, the intoxicating draught is taken and repeated until every faculty of the soul is paralyzed and deadened. Callous indeed must be that heart that can observe the 'wretched beings without a sigh, or behold them without pity. The numerous and melanchoh instances of confirmed inebriation which come within our knowledge, that arise from disappointment, should teach us to guard our feelings, and to concentrate our
idcz3 cf hsppmera to a tingts pcint. It is a vice bringing in its train innumerable evils. By obliterating all those sublime virtues and excellencies which distinguish man &s the 'noblest work of God,' it sinks him below the inanimate brute. Can there be a more melancholy object than a human being in this degraded state, where a dark and gloomy veil is drawn over the obscured faculties of the mind? where the man who, a few hours ago, was admired for the brilliant display of his talents, is novr despised for his follies where he, who but yesterday, was the object of envy and admiration, is to day a subject of derision and compassion. Were we not familiarized with such scenes, we should shudder at the sight of an enlightened being suddenly reduced to the darkness of insanity, not by the inevitable act of Providence, hut by the wilful abuse of the comforts of life.
THE NEWSPAPER. 41 This folio of four pages, happj workt Which not even critics criticise ; What is it hut a map of busy life, Its fluctuations, and it vast concerns?" Of all the publications which teem from the press, none are so interesting, none so useful, as a newspaper. This book may be useful on a particular subject that book may be useful on another subject and another book may be entertaining from its style, its novelty, or from the information it imparts; but the newspaper is interesting, useful, and entertaining on all sub
jects. Perhaps you prefer history the
well conducted newspaper furnishes a standing history of the times. Do you wish
I religious instruction? the newspaper, to
him who "looks through nature up to nature's God," affords it in the positive examples of the good, and the negative examples of the wicked; it tells us what the world is doing for the good cause, and cries aloud against the crimes w hich are a reproach to the people. The newspaper
i gives you the latest discoveries in Geogra- ! phy and Astronomv; it tells you what im-
i provements are making in the growth of
the countries; it gives you the latest inI ventions and improvements in mechanics, in agriculture and domestic economy. It
! furnishes an account of the proceedings of
governments; and enables people to know land judge of the propriety or impropriety j of measures. It is 4lhe tyrant's foe, the people's friend," when managed with integri ty. j W hen the writer of this article was not more than ten vears of age, living in a
j country town, where there was no mail, j and of course where newsppcis were pro
cured with difficulty, be recollects the avidity with which he laid hold of a newspaper, even if it were months old; that he
I could he made to stop for nothing until he ; had extracted all the information it con
tained. To this curiosity he owes all the literary taste he ever possessed to this curiosity he owes the ability of penning
1 this article to this curiosity he owes his ! means of livelihood to this curiosity alone ; he owes that he has been able successfully ' to combat in the 'war of words' with men ; whr have made the study of letters the , whole business of their lives. How many families are there that might
; be furnished with a newspaper at their ! doors, who neglect taking them because of the trilling sum which they cost ! If the heads of such families would reflect, that this trifling sum might be hundreds of dollars advantage to each of their children in i after Ifc, none could neglect taking the 'newspaper.
FILIAL AFFECTION. a true storv. In a great seaport in one of the most distant provinces in France, there lived a merchant who carried on trade with equal honor and propriety, until he was turned of fifty years of age; and then, by a sudden series of unexpected and unavoidable losses, found himself unable to comply with his engagements; and his wife and children, in w hom he placed his principal happiness, reduced into such a situation, doubled his distress. His sole resource in this sad situation was the reflection, that, upon the strictest review of his own conduct, nothing either of imprudence or iniquity appeared. He thought best, therefore to repair to Paris, in order to lay a fair statement of his affairs before his creditors, that being convinced of his honesty, they might be induced to pity his misfortune's, and allow him a reasonable space of time to settle his affairs. He was very kindly received by some and very civilly by all. From whence he received great hopes, which he communicated to his family ; hut these were speedily dashed by the cruelty of his principal creditor, who caused him to be arrested and put to jail. As soon as this melancholy event was known in the country, his eldest son, who was about 19 years old, listening only to the dictates of filial piety, came post to Paris, and threw himself at
the fect of the obdurate crcditor to whom!
he painted the distress of the family in the most pathetic terms, but without effect. At length in the greatest agony of mind, he said, "Sire, since you think nothing can compensate for your loss but a victim let your resentment devolve on me. Let me suffer instead of my father; and the miseries of a prison will seem light in procuring the liberty of a parent, to console the sorrows of the distressed and distracted family I have left behind me. Thus, sir, you will gratify your vengeance, without sealing their irretrievable ruin." And here his tears and sighs stopped his utterance. His fathers creditor beheld him on his knees in this condition, for a full quarter of an hour. He then sternly bade him rise and sit down, which he obeyed. The gentleman then walked from ore corner of the room to the other, in great agitation of mind, forab-ut the same space of time- At length throwing his arms round voune man's neck. "I find," said he, "there
is something more valuable than money I have an only daughter, for whose fate I have the utmost anxiety. I am resolved to fix it; in marrying you she must be happy Go, carry your father his discharge ask his consent bring him instantly hither and let us bury in the joy of this alliance, all remembrance of what has formerly happened." Thus the generous gratitude of the son relieved the calamity of the worthy father. The man who had consided wealth and happiness as synonimous terms, was freed from that fital error, and Providence vindicated the manner of its proceeding by thus bringing light out of darkness, and through a short scene of misery, rewarded a virtuous family with lasting peace, in the enjoyment of that prosperity which they so richly deserved. Laughing. Those who laugh at a good
joke, laugh correctly; those that laugh at a bad one, laugh either foolishly or charitably; and those that laugh at the manner of telling one, are not out of the correct ; province of laughing, unless they laugh : immoderately. Those who laugh because ! they sec others laugh might as well let tit alone: those who laugh because others jdont laugh may sometimes not be wrong, i although ten times to one they would be; j those who laugh because others cry, laugh I unfeelingly ; and those who laugh because ; others laugh and cry at the same time, .laugh at the folly of others, which is well enough. Those who laugh at nothing, ;laugh nonsensically; and those who never j laugh at all, wish to appear wiser than they are; and those who are always laughing, are too silly to laugh at. Those who laugh for the purpose of deception, laugh wickedly; those who laugh because they have succeeded in deceiving, laugh villianously ; and those who laugh because they failed of success in deceit, laugh despicably. Those who laugh for false " appearances, laugh hypocritically ; those who laugh to put others in a good humor, laugh merito-
! riously ; and those who laugh because they
ire good humoured, laugh amiably; those
j who laugh to improve their appearance.
laugh politically ; those w ho laugh to prevent themselves looking ugly, laugh selfishly ; and those who laugh because they cant help it, laugh naturally. From this laughing subject wemay gatherhow whimsical, how paradoxical, and how "various is the mind of desultory man." What fields are open for his improvement; what exercise for his charity, and what necessity for the restraint of his desires.
lone m my drawing-room; hu . larly placed on each side o ( PW marble chimneypiece, and h Z bespeaking the conscious, I i ?f- w.KHeit.0rr,ed friend of the ball alley, j r . u W ively into his arms, and burstTr?1"1 Words cannot describe the 11 tearV followed-" You are ri4, right. The chimnevpi?ce M 5 a pictures arc vonrs ti,a k )ot$
lou gave me all I hav-..
lather i me; and
Proofs of affection, related by Mr. Curran. When a boy, I was one morning playing at marbles in the village ball alley, with a light heart and lighter pocket. The gibe and the jest w ent gaily round, when suddenly there appeared amongst us a stranger, of a very remarkable and very cheerful aspect; his intrusion was not the least restraint upon our merry little assemblage; on the contrary, he seemed pleased and even delighted ; he was a benevolent creature, and the rays of infancy (after all the happiest we shall ever see) perhaps rose upon his memory. God bless him! 1 see hiss fine form at the distance of half a century, just as he stood before mc in the little ball alley in the days of my childhood. His name was Boyse; he was the rector of Newmarket. To me he took a particular fancy. I was winning and full of waggery, thinking every thing that w as eccentric, and by no means a miser of my eccentricities; every one was welcome to share of them, and I had plenty to spare, after having freighted the company. Some sweetmeats easily bribed me home with him. I learned from poor Boyse my alphabet, and my grammar, and the rudiments of the classics. He taught me all he could, and then sent me to the school at Middleton. In short he made a man cf mc. I recollect it was about five and thirty years afterwards, when I had risen to some eminence at the bar, and w hen I had a seat in Parliament, on my return from court I found nr. old gentleman seated n-
father my benefarrnri" ti nW
md in the evening I ' 4
glistening m his hue blue eve vd K poor Jack, the creature of L K sing in the House ofCommo S a Right Honorable. IW now gone and no suitor had a L" M posite of practical benevolence in above. This is his wine-.U.
his memory, "m
REFLECTIONS ANIMUXIM There are three modes nf '
ills of life; by indifference. h"i
; most common; by philosophy, which i most ostentatious; and by rVlip0Il ) is the most effectual. It has hp en 'L'S said, that "philosophy readily trivmph) part or future evils, but thnt present umph over philosophy;' PlulusophvV goddess, whose head inured i? ,n '"
J but whose feet are upon earth: the
tempts more than she a complies, .,. promises more than she performs- sC "
teach us to hear of the calamities cf oU,t
with magnaiamitv ; but it r,
that can teach us to bear our own vr ith
ignation. j An act by which we mnkp one fr?,
and one enemy, i a losing g-imo; beatc revenge is a much stronger principle tJ gratitude. We hate some persons because we c) not know them; and we will not k- ?l them because we hate them. TtJ friendships that succeed to surh avers!)
are usually hrm, for those qu.ilititJir.iM be sterling that could not v pn hearts, but conquer our prejudices. h the misfortune is that we carry thee Pre
judices into tilings far more sc'ioustUi
our friendships. I bus, t';ere are trA
which some men despise because thn
not examined, and which they nilh cttj
amine, oecausc the v despise. 1 hc-re isc
single instance on record tv here thi? hi-J
of prejudice was overcome by a uiirmk but the age of mirac les is pabt, while thj of prejudice remains. God will excuse our p ravers fcr selves, whenever we nr prevt t.Um! fra them by being occupied hv such
works as will entitle us to the pr others. He that openly tell his friend all M he thinks of them, must expert that iff? will secretly tell his enemies much hat they do no think of him. Did universal charity prevail, ear:h would be a heaven, and hell a iaMo. Lacon. Avaiiice. The covetous man amn?f! riches only for the sake of amsii thw. not to supply his wants; he del is li:nu! such indulgence. His money i more t renous to him than his health or hi life. All his nrtinr.s. vipsre. :n d nfft-c tiol'S are 3i
rected to this unworthy object. ?o ore is deceived in him; he takes no pait.s tone ceal from the eyes of the public the miirable propensity with which he is possesn it is the nature of thi shameful plcD to discover itself on every side; it tak'5rJ step that is not marked with this ariuri character, and which is not a nystnj w eVeryone but him who is possessed !) ! The other passions all aim,at least, to?1 appearances, and to hide theniclus 'liin the eyes of the world: impudence nia son times discover them though the crin-a seek'6 obscurity as much as po?silk; J the avaricious manconcealshispassioi f 1
I'm unlet:) I. iju iii hi 1. 1 '' ? I
thiig
tionsto hide it from the public, ev n
1, M '"
i
:.. i - ..1 , i (lis
i m iiim i Trmi ii. fiprv i i i m
1 - 7 .. -ft
IK. lit 1113 II II I III' ' upon his speech, his actions, ar d idl 1 if0E' duct, and even upon his forehead. Injustice. An unjust man ' fl5' 'sfc constantly fixed upon the oor, that may find an opportunity of opprcso them. Like a lion concealed at thr n.o of his den, he waits with inipati'rff . his prey. Loaded, but not satisfied riches, he looks around on every ' discover those who are wholly of influence, and whom he ir.av , without fear. Wo to them ho lll,f his obervation; however modcia1' portion of the blessings of fortuix, possess sufficient to exc itc the de.-ne vi lion thirsting for their blood. !tf e; that they arc without support or ' sooner or later they fall nito the f'-' J which he secretly prepares for tin m " become his prey. Mass!1() The great business of a man is to iwt"' iiis mind aud govern his mann?r?.
