Western Sun, Volume 8, Number 15, Vincennes, Knox County, 15 March 1817 — Page 4

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POETIC A L ASYLUM.

From the ( Concord ) Middlesex Gazette The Printer's "Hour of Peace By the Author of the POET'S HOUR OF PEACE I Know ye the Printer's hour of peace ? Know ye an hour more fraught with Than ever felt the maid of Greece, it . . A . . BY ? When kiss u by Venus' am'rous boy His nimble fingers kiss the types ; Nor is it when with lengthened face The sturdy devil's tail he gripes ; 'Tis no when news of dreadful note, His columns all with minion fill ; Tis not when brother Printers quote Th' effusions of his stump worn quill. Tis not when all his work is done, His glimm'ring fire he hovers near, And, heedless of the coming dun, rows merry o'er a pint of beer. 'Tis not when in Miss Fanny's Glass, Long Advertisements meet his eye, And seem to whisper as they pass, "We'll grace your columns bye and bye" Nor is it when with num'rous names k i ... n . r ti m . His length'ned roll of vellum swells, As if 'twere touch'd by conj'ror's wand Or grew by fairies' magic spells No--reader--no--the Printer's hour His hour of real sweet repose, Is not when by some magic pow'r His list of patrons daily grows : But O! 'tis when stern Winter, drear, Comes rob'd in snow. & rain & vapor, He hears in whispers soft and dear, " We've com to PAY you for the PAPER!" Elegant Extract from a Sermon on the Autumn Text-- "And Isaac went out to meditate in the even-tide. Gen. 24,63 There is an even-tide" in the day--an hour when the sun retires. and the shadows fall, and when nature assumes the apperances of soberness and silence. It is an hour from which every where the thoughtless fly, as people only, in their imagination with images of gloom ; it is the hour, on the other hand, which, in every age, the wise have loved, as bringing with it sentiments and aflections more valuable than all the splendors of the day. Its first impression is to still all the turbulence of thought or passion which the day may have brought forth. We follow with our eye the descending sun ; we listen to the decaying sounds of labour and of toil and, when all the fields are Silent around us, we feel a kindred stillness to breath upon our souls, and to calm them from the agitation of society, From this first impression, there is a second, which naturally folslow it--In the day we are living with men in the "even -tide we begin to live with nature; we see the world withdrawn from us--the shades of night darken over the habitations of men, and we feel ourselves alone. It is an hour fitted as it would seem, by Him who made us. to still, but with gentle hand, the throb of every unruly passion, and the ardor of every impure disire ; and, while it veils for a time the world that misleads us, to awaken in our hearts those legitimate affections

which the heat of the day may have dissolved there is yet a farther scene it presents to us. While the world withdraws from us, and while the shades of the evening darken upon our dwellings, the splendors of the firmament conle forward to our view. In our moments when earth is overshadowed, heaven opens to our eyes the radiance of a sublimer Being ; our hearts follow the successive : splendors of the scene and while we forget, for a time, the obscurity of earthlv concerns, we fee' that there are "yet greater things than these.'1 There in the second place, an u even -tide" in tl ic year a season when the sun Withdraws his propitious i'r 'it ; when thr winds arise, and the leaves fall and nature around us seems to sink into decay. It is said, in general, to he the season of melancholy : and if. by this word be meant that it is the time of solemn and of serious thought, it is undoubtedly the season of melancholy ; yet it is a melancholy so soothing, so gentle in its approach, and so pro phetic in its influence, that they who have known it feel, as instinctively, that it is the doing of God, and the heart of man is not thus finely touched, but to fine issuer When we 2:0 into the fields in the evening of year, a different voice approaches us. We regard, even in spite of ourselves, the still but steady advances of time. A few days ago. and the summer of the year was grateful, and every element was tilled with lire, and th4 sun of Heaven seemed to pjo ry in his ascendant He is now enfeebled in his power : the desert no more " blossoms like the rose the sony; of joy is no more heard among the branches; and the earth is strewed with that foilage which once bespoke the mag nificence of summer. Whatever may he the passion which socie ty has awakened, we pause amid this apparent desolation of nature. We sit down in thr lodge w of the way faring men in the wilderness and we feel that all we witness is the emblem of our own fate. Such alo. in a few years, will be our own condition. The blossoms of our spring the pride of our summer will a! fade into decay ; and the pulse that now beats high with virtuous or with vicious desire, will gradually sink, and then must slop forever. We rise from our meditation- with hearts softened and subdued, and we return into life as into a shadowy scene, where we have " disquieted utirseh es in vain1 Yt a few years, we think, and ail that now bless, or all that now convulse humanity, will also have perished. The mightiest pagantry of life will pass the loudest notes of triumph or of conquest will be silent in the grave ; the wicked, wherever active, "will erase from troubling, and tinweary, wherever suffering," will be at rest Under an impression so profound, we feel our own hearts better.- The care the an imosities, the hatreds w hich so ciet may have engendered, sink unperceived from our bosoms. In the general desolation of nature, we feel the littleness of our passions ; w e iook forward to

that kindred evening which time must bring to all; we anticipate the graves of these we hate and of those we 1ove. Every unkind passion falls, with the leaves that fall around us ; and we return slowly to our homes, and to the society which surrounds us with the wish, only to enlighten or to bless them. There is an eventide in human life : a season when the eye becomes dim and the strength decays, and when the winter of age begins to shed, upon the human head, its prophetic snow. It is the season of life to which the present is most analogous ; and much it becomes, and much it would pofit you, my elder brethren, to mark the instructions Which the season brings. The spring and the summer of your days are gone, and with them not only the joy they know, but many of the friends who gave them. You have entered upon the autum of your beini ; and whatever may have been the profusion of your spring, or the warm intemperance of your summer, there is yet a season of stillness and solitude which the Beneficent of heaven affords you, in which you may meditate upon the past and the future, and prepare yourselves For the mighty change which you are soon 10 undergo. In the long retrospect of your journey you have seen every day the shiue- of the evening fall, and every year the clouds of winter gather. Iut you have seen also, every succeeding day, the mornmg arise in its brightness, and in every succeeding year, spring; re turn to renovate the winter of nature. It is now you may understand the magnificent language of Heaven it mingles its voice with that of revelation,--it summons you in these hours, when the leaves fall and the winter is gathering, to that evening study which the mercy of Heaven has provided in the book of salvation ; And, while the shadowy valley opens, which leads to the abode of death, it speaks of that hand which can comfort and can save, and which can conduct to those 'green pastures, and those still waters," where there is an eternal spring for the children of God. A well known simpleton, who had for many years been employed in carrying the com to mill for the poor house in the town in which he lives, was one day accosted by the miller in the following manner: "John, they say you are a fool that you don't know any thing.'' Hah, hah ! (said John) that can't be true, for I do know something, tho' I may not know other things. But I can tell you what I do know, and what I don't know,"' I'm glad to hear it (replied the milli r :) now let us hear, John, what you do know." - I know (answered John,) that the miller's hogs grow fat Very well, very well, that's true John ; now please to inform me what you don't know ?" I don't know (cried John, scratching his head) whose corn they are fed on ?"

JUSTICE'S BLANKS,

For Sale at this Office.

FOR SALE. A KEEL BOAT OF ten or twelve tons burthen he is almost new, substially built, and will be sold reasonable apply to JOHN EWING. February 7, 1817. 10-tf J C. REILEY, & Co. WATCH & CLOCK MAKERS, SILVERSMITHS & JEWELLER S RESPECTFULLY informs their K L friends, and the public in general, that at they have commenced the above business bi all its various branches, in the house lately occupied by Messrs- Hale

8c Wood, and nearly opposite Harlow Trimble's store where they hope by their unremitted attention to business, to merit the approbation of the public. Vincennes, January l, 1817. N. B. Watches & Clocks, of every description carefully repaired, and warranted to perform The highest price given for old Gold and Siiver. to IT An apprentice, will be taken of good moral habits, to learn the above. s s r r f TEN DOLLARS REWARD. LOST, ON the 23d of this instant a Red Morocco Pocket Book, either in the town of Vincennes, or on the road leading from Vincennes to the White-Oak Springs, it contains a number of papers valuable to me, and would be of no use to any other person there is also bank notes in it to the amount $30, among which is a note on the Farmers' and Mechanics' Bank of Cincinnati. I will give the above reward to any person who will deliver the said pocket book and papers at the office of the Western Sun, or at the White-Oak Springs to JOSEPH W. LOAN. February 26, 1817. i3-3t N O T I C E. A LL persons indebted to the estate of Tousaint Dubois decd. by Note account or otherwise, are requested to make immediate payment to Henry Dubois, who is duly authorised to receive the same. JANE DUBOIS WILL JONES, Adimin. T. DUBOIS Vincennes, 22, Feb. 1817 l&-4t CASH! CASH! CASH!!! THE highest prices in CASH, will be given for good fresh BUTTER. EGGS and

HONEY, by ABIJAH HULL. Vincennes, Feb. 21,1817. 1 3-tf NOTICE " " THE subscriber being duly authorized to adjust, and finally close the business of the late firm of N. Breading,jun. & Co. hereby requests all persons indebted to the same, to come forward and discharge their debts. If it is not convenient for any of those against whom there are book accounts, to discharge the same immediately, a reasonable time for payment at will be given, provided they embrace the present opportunity of calling upon me, and giving their notes for the amounts due. ISAAC BLACKFORD. Vincennes, Feb. 7, 1817. tf-lo LAW NOTICE NATHL. HUNTINGTON, Attorney at Law & Conveyancer. HAS opened an office, under the same roof of Messers Hale and Wood's Apothecary Store,in Vincennes, where he will be generally found ready to attend to the business of his profess-tf-5 Vincennes, January 2, 1817 J. CALL. WILL practice Law in the Circuit Courts of Knox, and the adjacent counties he resides at the "Vincennes Hotel." Vinecennes, 14, Feb. 1817. 1 ljrtf WRITING PAPER" For Sale at the Offiee of the Western SUN