TO A YOUNG LADY. WILL you remember me, dear maid, THE ORPHAN. Sad was my heart, and sad the night, When last I heard my mother sigh ; T. C. S. 'Twas then her cheeks grew cold and white, For death was passing by. He blew upon the rose-it died; I saw it change and wither fast: Fair colours deck'd the lucid tear, Of healthy morning dew: Shines Beauty in its vernal year; THE MANIAC. Hark! the wild maniac sings, to chide the gale That wafts so slow her lover's distant sail; She, sad spectatress, on the wintry shore, Watch'd the rude surge his shroudless corse that bore, Knew the pale form, and shrinking in amaze, Clasp'd her cold hands, and fix'd her madden ing gaze; Poor widow'd wretch! 'twas there she wept in vain, Till mem'ry fled he ragonizing brain :-{ And the lone sea-bird wakes its wildest cry, EPIGRAMS. Low sunk my hopes- -this breast it sighed, Quoth Bet, Since I have thought at all, And swelled the fitful blast. In silent sorrow gushed the tear, And bath'd my mother's winding shroud; "Oh! sleep my mother! now the grave, There dwells a friend, tho' all were dead; BEAUTY. "The wind passeth over it, and it is gone." I saw a dew drop, cool and clear, Dance on a myrtle spray: I've formed this stedfast rule, Let whate'er other ill befal, Never to wed a fool.' sion to themselves. Again the pensive warrior lifts the supporting crutch, then gently sat it on the ground, as though some friendly spirit whispered peace. illume the darkened night of age-spare Justin's life to shed the filial tear on my last hour; and when this feeble weight lies low in the earth, may Justin live to bedew Godolfin's urn. It is hard that GODOLFIN :—A Fragment. "ALAS! will no pitying power hear the prayers of an aged father, and restore his son?-thus spake the venerable Godolfin, striking his crutch, and raising his desponding eye, to the fa- All gracious heaven, cried the vetether of the soldier-the poor man's ran, pressing his withered hand on a God. Godolfin was a soldier, the brav-war-worn heart, spare me my child, to est of the brave-he had wielded the sword, till age shed its silver blossoms o'er his head. The swift winged messener of a haughty Briton deprived him of a limb; it was this that urged the warrior from the field. But he left But see, a form advances decked in a on the embattled plain, a son who long military garb. Heaven, I thank thee! had fought by his side. Justin, scorn- the crutch falls-resume it Godolfin; ed the life of indolence and ease-he time holds a veil before thine eyeschose the hardy tent; the bed of straw, the mist of years o'ercast thy sight. the din of arms, the cannon's roar, was It is not Justin, but a corporal Trim, a music to his soul, for Justin was the mere child of nature. child of glory. The lengthened march the brave die, said the stranger, shakof many a mile, gave no pain to this ing his head, and moving slowly-his gallant youth. The drum's tattoo, the pace was solemn. But soldiers go to fife's shrill sound, struck no terror to heaven, continued he, extending his the son of Godolfin.-His heart was arms, and that should be the balm to a naturally brave, his principles were vir- soldier's wounds, clasping both togetuous; the laurels of victory on the ther; still, it is a hard death. I saw him brow of Washington, the example of his fall, covered with wounds, and bathed ever honoured father, formed him for in manly gore.-Godolfin heard the great exploits. Oh! might he be brave, sound-he knew it was the voice of cried the old man. As yet no joyful Volmar, and the words of truth. Volsound had met his ear, no tidings of the mar his friend could not deceive. Oh! much-loved boy had gladdened his soul. for such tears as angels shed-mirth, In a moment of distressing doubt, Go-do thou weep; adamantine hearts grow dolfin was loudly calling on that power, soft. See, whilst the story flows in who for wise ends often sinks the war-mournful accents from his lips-tears rior to the tomb, and wraps the good flowed as fast; they were the lovely offman in the dust of desolation; while spring of the feeling Volmar's heart. base soul'd cowards, and the timid Godolfin's nature could scarce support wretch, live to be a chaos of confu- the shock. A pallid paleness passed across the warrior's furrowed cheek, peaceful, without a sigh, his spirit reached its everlasting home. Volmar! light lay the turf on Godolfin's head-there shall the dews of heaven rest.**** RUDIMENTS OF TASTE, and a POLITE INTRODUCTION. independence, every endeavour to attain this state is worthy of success, whenever it is strengthened by purity of motive, a wish to live happily, and a laudable desire to be enabled to contribute to the happiness of others. It is then that the dignity of the human character is exalted; man then gains the respect of his acquaintances, and the esteem of the good; while he has all the natural wants and wishes of life satisfied, and all the conveniencies and elegancies of it within Cornelia, daughter of Scipio African- his reach. But the wealthy man selus, and mother of the Gracchi, was not dom uses his riches in this commendamore distinguished by the nobility of ble manner, and seldom makes them an her rank, than by the lustre of those instrument to effect praise worthy purvirtues which adorned her character poses. How often does some petty moa most pleasing and amiable trait of tive, undescribable and undefinable to which, shines in that little incident re- others, induce him to sacrifice his opicorded to her immortal honour. A la- nions of right and wrong, to contract dy of Ionia coming to visit her, impa-the sphere of his usefulness, and to tiently expected to be shewn the splen- misemploy his influence and power. dour and magnificence of her toilette, O! thou blessed spirit of independence, which she supposed from her rank and which makes us act with propriety and fortune, to be very superb, (she having justice, because thou art actuated by previously entertained Cornelia with conscience, and directed by the genuthe display of her own,) but the illustri-ine emotions which spring from the purous Roman prolonged the conversation est sources of the heart, how often art till her children were at hand, and then thou condemned, and how often unintroducing them to her visitor--" these, known!" says, she are my jewels." The writer of these letters has so great a veneration for the domestic character of this lady, that she thinks she cannot do better than give them to the public, under the signature of Cornelia. And whatever their other defects EVANDER. A living character. "Happy the man, who far from public view, Lives to himself, and to the faithful few; Shuns the vain walks of bustle and parade, And dwells sequester'd in the peaceful shade." noisy haunt of busy men, lives the genIn a calm retreat, secluded from the tle, kind, and hospitable Evander. may be, they have at least this to recommend them, that the same sentiments of mend them, that the same sentiments of maternal tenderness which influenced the Roman matron, gave rise to these epis-head, and fourscore years have filled his tles, and prompted a fond mother to be come an author. INDEPENDENCE. "One situation, which is justly and honourably sought after, is a state of Time has snowed upon his venerable cheeks with furrows; yet the sunshine of cheerfulness illuminates his face, and his conversation is replete with vivacity. A cleanly, neat built hut is the residence of Evander, in which he enjoys more real contentment than the haughty inhabitant of a pompous palace. The following lines, which Aristo placed over his cottage door, could ith propriety be fixed over Evan er's: "Small is my humble cot, but well design'd, To suit the temper of its master's mind: Hurtful to none, it boasts a decent pride, That my poor purse the modest cost sup. ply'd." Oft in my rural excursions I have sited Evander, and spent some pleaint hours in conversation with him.en would he shew me his well culturI garden, point out each tree which s own hand had planted, told me the story of his useful life and talked of Icient times. GLEANINGS. Marriage. The man who passes his life without a wife, will contract unsocial habits, be displeased with the world, and in the winter of his years, will stand like a lonely tree on an extended plain, his breast exposed to every blast of misfortune, without a companion to soothe his troubles and wipe away the tears wrung by misery. Truth.-Protagoras, a Greek philosopher, maintained, that all is illusion, and that there is no such thing as truth:-But Aristotle refuted tion is true or false; if it be false, then you him by the following dilemma. Your proposiare answered; if it be true, then there is something true, and your proposition fails. Calumniators.-Are those who have neither Happy Evander! How transcend-good hearts nor good understanding. tly blissful is thine enviable condition! he raging storms that rock the stately rret, never shake thy humble dome. Happy Evander! The care crazed onarch may look down on thee with vy, and the laurelled hero wish to change his blood stained trophies for y unpolluted joys. HUMANITY. Look on slanderers as direct enemies to civil society; as persons without honour, honesty or humanity. Whoever entertains you with the faults of others, designs to serve you in a similar manner. Miseries.--Sitting at a dinner on a bench nailed to the floor, and this at such a distance from in the position of a rower, just beginning his the table, (nailed down also,) that you feed stroke. Missing the way to your mouth, and drowning your breast in a bath of beer. The moment in which you discover that you have taken in a mouthful of fat, by mistake for a turnip. My uncle Toby was a man patient Finding an human hair in your mouth, which as you slowly draw it forth, seems to lengthen ad infinitum. bread and butter, at a house where decorum A strong tang of tallow, or onion, in your forbids you either to splutter or mutter. A stone lurking in your crust, which you crush with such violence as to drive out a tooth and an oath at the same time. At dinner, in the dog days-seeing several copies of the grain of the footman's thumb printed off in a hot mist upon the rim of your plate. Sterne. Dropping in upon a friend at the dinner hour, upon the strengh of his general invitation-and at once discovering from the countenance and manner of the lady, that you had better waited for a particular one. A fish bone, or other substance, stuck between your two hindmost teeth; then, in your endeavours to remove it with a tooth pick, only What is often termed shyness, is nothing more than refined sense, and an indifference to common observations. Next to the satisfaction I receive in the pros. perity of an honest man, is that arising from the confusion of a rascal. CONTRA, CR. O the joys from women spring! Till fair woman show'd her face. So our parent priz'd her charms. Kings have left their crowns to seek! Parody of a sonnet, on a country seat near Philadelphia. Here he wild swamp its rugged bosom spreads, And hoarse through ether bull frogs' cries ascend, Briars and thorns erect their prickly heads, And with sharp fangs, the bellowing frogs defend. Black as the shar'd borne beetles of the night, Thick as musquetoes, in the autumnal skies, Unnumbered tadpole forms sport in sight, And wide around the trembling ripple flies. Here jetty haws in mellow clusters grow, Aquatic night shades wave their foliage green. "Mercutio" is respectfully requested to con tinue his communications, they give very ge neral satisfaction.-" Lines on the death of F. A. J. Phyle, the hermit" are too hackneyed, having appeared in a common Chap-book."The happy Fire side" is also too common."To Maria," by a young gentleman under his fourteenth year, is a very pretty first attempt, although it has not sufficient ardour, variety of sentiment and incident, to entitle it to publica tion, much however is to be expected from a more extensive acquaintance with the Muses. "A vindication of the mental abilities &c. of the citizens of the U. S. does not come under our plan. PHILADELPHIA-Published weekly, price Twelve and a half cents per month, payable quarterly in advance, by THOMAS G. CONDIE, jun. No. 22, Carter's alley, opposite Mr. Girard's Bank-Where a LETTER BOX is placed for lite. rary communications. Subscriptions are also received at the Mer. chants Coffee house, Mr. R. Desilver's Book store, No. 294, Market-street, and at Mr. J. Bioren's Book-store, No. 88, Chesnut-street. |