¥ dedoddodeioinied de
@ he patriot.
Frrsrrsss, ATE SITES ITE TITS
Eloquence thesoul, song charms the sense
rr SEES TT STIS ETE I 73 ELETS TTS
BELLEFONTE AvucusTt, 1822,
SELECTE).
STANZAS—BY MOORE.
Jo, let me weep | there’s bliss in ears,
5° When he who sheds them, nly feels
Some lingering stain of early years,
L Effac’d by every drop that steals.
The (ruitless showers of worldly woe
"Fall dark to earth and never rise;
While tears iat from repentance Bow,
In bright exhalement reach the skiess
‘Go, fet me weep | there's bliss in tears,
| When he who sheds them, inly feels
Some lingering stain of early years,
Effac’d by every drop that steals.
AH
Leave me to sigh o’er hours that few,
More idly than the summer's wind,
‘And, while they passed, a fragrance threw,
"But lft no trace of sweets behind.
The warmest sigh that pleasure heaves,
| Is cold, is faint, to those that swell :
The heart, where pure repentance grieves
O’er hours of pleasure iov’d too well !
Leave me to sigh o’er hours that flew
Mote idly than the summet’s wind,
And, while they pasaed, a fragrance threw,
But left no trace of sweets behind,
bin?
oh
lof roads.
Vill glow into rapture extatic sublime.
RILLA.
in 3 EC ——
To the Editor of the Family Visitor.
|
i
VALLEY oF Misery. March 1822
|
Dear Sir,—I have been a traveller for wp
wards of forty years on a very important jour-
ney. And as you are young aad consequently
{ilnexperienced” in travelling, I will give you
some particulars as it relates lo the road it was
my misfortune to travel ; hoping by a careful
perusal and judicious reflection it may be ser-
viceable to you. I was about your age when I
left home. Two roads were immediately pre
sented to my view ; their relative situation was
similar to the letter V, so that you will observe
the farther they extended, the farther they sep-
erated from each other; the right hand road was
narrow, appeared solitary, and had but few trav-
elling, the vther was broad, and crowded with
travellers ; and they of a character that pleased
me much, being much congenial to my own ;s0;
that I had no difhculty in deciding on the choice
I now considered myselt as fairly
started on this important journey ; the road was
plain, no difficulty as to finding the way, was
rt pS FI men
J . o sf
Indignant sentiments on Nacional Prejudices,
Hatred, and.on Slavery.
»y CowpER.
Oh for alodee in some vast wilderness,
Some boundless contiguity of shade,
Where rumour of oporession and decelty
Of unsuccesstal or successful, war,
Misht never reach me more. My ears pain
My sou) is sick with ev'ry d 1y’s report
Of wrong and outrage with which earth is fill d.
There is no flesh in man’s obdurate heart,
It does not feel tor man The pat’ral bond
Of brotherhood is sever’d as the flix
Tha: falls asunder at the touch of fire.
Ho finds his fellow guilty of a skin
Not colour’d like his own; and baving pow's
1? inforce the wrong for such a worthy cause
Doams and devotes him as bis lawtul prey.
Lands intersected by a narrow frith
Abhor each other. Mountains interpos’d
Make enemics of nations, who had eise,
Like kindred drops been mingled into one,
Thus man devotes and destioys ;
And worse than ali, and must be deplor’d,
As harnan nature’s broadest foulest blot,
Chains him.and tasks him, and exacts his sweat
With stripes, that mercy with a bleeding heart
Weeps, when he sees wflicted on a beast.
Then what is man ? And what man sscing this,
And baving human feelings, does not blush,
And hang his head to think himself a man {
I would not have a slave to till my ground,
"To carry me to fan me while I sleep,
And tremble when 1 wake, for all the wealth
That sinews bought and sold have ever earn’d.]
No : dear as freedom, and in my heart's
Just estimation priz’d above all price,
¥ had much rather be myself the slave,
And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him
iris SV IEG 2. m———
SACRED MELODY.
There is a thought can lift the soul
Above the dull cold sphere that bounds it ;
A star that sheds its mild controul
Rrightest when grief’s dark cloud surrounds it
And pours a soft, pervading ray,
Lif.’s ills may never chase away !
¥
When ear hly joys have lefi the breast,
And eu the last fond hope is cherish’d,
O¢ moral bliss—too like the rest—
Beneath whose’s withering touch hath perished,
With ladeless lustre streams that light,
A halo on the brow of night!
And bitter were our sojourn here
In this wild wilderness of sorrow,
Did not that rainbow beam appear,
The herald of a brighter morrow;
A glorious beacon fiom on high,
To guide us to eternity.
EA ? EMI
THE STORM OF NIGHT.
The sun bad gone down—the day had departed,
But storms added gloom to the horrors of night,
From dark clouds oo bigh the lightuing’s flash
darted—
Extensive its rays—and borrific its light.
The wild winds blew fierce on the waters atar
The mad waves were tumbling alone on the
shore ;
And nature convulsed—wind and waves fierce
atl war,
Seemed rerding the spheres with the tempest’s
loud roar.
And such are our lives—continued commotion ;
Wild winds and rude storms forever are blow
ing;
Like barks on the waves mid whirlwinds of
ocean ;
We're driven by fortune—our fate never know-
ing.
But gone is the stom, and over the mountair
The so lar beam sbi es to the west far away—
And silen: the winds that tended the fountain
And fair is the blush that has dawned on th:
;Jone that lives in the circle of its baneful nflu-
apparent ; yet I bad 2 pilot; who made a volun-
tary offer of his services, And a most indus-
t
measures which were in store for me.
edit. I was to feast on the richest luxuries
and to drink of the inexhaustible cup of joy; in
short, my who’e life was to be one continued
round of the highest pleasures, unmixed with
alloy.
I soon found myselfina populous and bril-
hant city. My acquaintence soon became gen-
eral, and m a very little time I was introduced
into the theatre'of fashionable life ; when the
curtain; arose, almost at one view there was ex-
hibited alt that could please the eye, delight
the ear and interest the heart. It consisted of
sumptuous dinners, evening parties, balls, con
certs, shows, plays, &c. added to this, there
were chess, dice, cards and billiards, together
with a profusion of the choicest liquors. I con
gratulated myself that the happy moment had
arrived, and that T was freed from the shackles
and troubles of porental advice ; my imagina-
tior, painted every thing in the richest colours,
which imparted a most powerful stimulous to
the heat of my youthful blood. I pressed on
with all the impetuosity of unrestrained passions.
I soon became an adept in the whole routine of
In
a very little time I was reduced to practice one
what the world calls delightful amusements.
the first principles of fashionable life ; turning
night into day, and day into night. In this city
I remained, following with industry the rou-
tine above described ; notwithstanding I almost
% #6. The sorrows and woes the world has imparted the end, bat now tha great difficulty is present.
ed, I can see no way of getting into the other
oad. 1 can see no path, ne light, no direction ;
{ am sure I cannot find the way without a pi-
lot, and know of none to get. My pilot will
not go ; he says he don’t know the ‘way. Some-
times he says there is no way ; indeed, was it
not for the endless torments that await every
traveller of this road, I should feel no desire to
be in the other: for I am unaccustomed to the
manners of its travellers ; what is agreeable to
them would be disagreeable to me, what they
supremely love, I sincerely hate ; and what to
do 1 don’t know ; to risk travelling on in this
road, will not do; for I may come to the end of
it in the right, or at an unexpected moment—
then all arrangement, all cffort and hope are
over ; it is then irrecoverably too late. Isome
Wo:sen, in all countries, are civil, obliging
render and humane ; that they are ever inclinea
‘0 be gay and cheerfuy timorous and modest,
and that they do not hesitate like men to per-
form a generous action. Not haughty, not ar.
rogant, not supercilious, they are full of cour.
tesy, and fond of society ; more liable, in gene-
ral to err than man ; but, in general, more vir.
tuous and performing more good actions than
he.
The following fragment from the 17th MS.
volume of Moscs Plain’s, ¢ Notions,” found in
the till of his chest after his decease gives a
different account of the matter .
i A woman’s heart,” quoth the bachelor Mo-
ses, «¢ is like a sturgeon’s nose—soft, elastic
and always trembling. Itis kept at rest only
‘hy a bag of gold fastened to the nether end of
times fancy myself at this point looking into it : and the heavier the bag, the steadier its po-
the gulf of dark despair--seeing the trvallers
launching in in rapid succession—seeing them
sink into the blackness of darkness——descending
under the weight of their numerous and aggra
valed sins, together with the wrath of divine jus.
tice pressing them down into that pit, the depth
of which I bave no conception ; for we are told
subject of habit, an old lady related the follow-
length the first thing he thought of in the morn
1
then turn and wish I had never been born ; but
from the highest authority it is bottumless.
rious one he was ; he was continually telling this does me no good, my heart sickens and my
me of the delightful prospects and the solid,
Indeed |
he made me believe the day was not far distant
spirit faints ; at the same moment 1 am filled
with horror and keen despair. 1 believe, sir,
itis all over with me, the day of recovery is
3q, when I shoold have every thing just as I want. past; I feel the chaps of unpardoned sing death
and interminable wo, entwined around me ; held
together by that strong lock, the wrath of di-
vine displeasure, and the key given to my pilot ;
whose real name I have lately discovered is
Satan.
: iit CDS Ane
From the Goshen Patriof.
Force of Habit.
On a late cold night, my family and I were
enjoying the comforts of a good fire, with a few
friends, when during a social conversation on (he
‘ng circumstance :—
¢ Shortly after the old French war, my father,
who had recently been married, purchased a
considerable tract of wild, uncultivated land, in
the county of duchess, not far from where the
He knocked
up a log hut, and went to felling trees and
village of Poughkeepsie now lies,
clearing the land, He was a very sober man ;
but he toiled excessively hard, and began (©
think a little spirits would do him no harm
when he was chopping. He therctore got him
a bottle full, but used it very sparingly and only
In pro
cess of time however, he would take a little bit-
Afterwards
he must have his bitters every morning. A!
when he was at work in the woods.
ters in the morning now and then.
ing was his bitters ; he could rest in bed till day
every day drank deep of the bitter cup of dis
appointment, accompanied with the keenes
sorrow, mortification, and remorse of conscience.
I still retained the hope that I should soon
reach and partake of those pleasures described
by my pilot : but such was the fag, I never did,
and such will be the fate of every other unior-
That dis-
play of beauty and brilliance, so pieasing to the
tunate traveller that comes this road.
eye, and the cause of that ardent desire to par
take of the fruit, are all deception—the tree
that produces this fruit, grows out of the very
hot bed of Satan’s richest nursery, and every
anguish of his soul.
1 recollect when abou to start on this jour-
ney, I was told that it { took this road, howev-
er pleasant part of it might be to travel, the
«nd would be dreadtul :the end at certain times
appears as if it might be near and begins to
unfold a most awful appearance ; its effects up
on my feelings are beyond descripiion, and to
ral children traveling on in this dreadful rozd
day.
who lcok upon me as being the sole cause of
H) Be in nis gepiarah A
ence and partakes of the fruit, will have just|
ause to weep and lament in the most bitter|__.
is pumerous posterity are now in the posses.
aggravate my suffering i 5 : : : : Ta
ge ¥ ngs, I have a wife and scve-¢ Not she with trait’rous kiss her Savion: stung i
INot she denied him with cnholy tongue,
load
stone is applied—the attraction lies in the metal
sition. No matter in what manner the
not inthe hand that fastens it. The latter may
he tremulous with ave, infirmity or guilt ; yet
if the bag is full the hand is unheeded—and
the more tremulous, the more acceptable : for
then the greater the prospect that it may soon
be got rid of, either by the hangman or the sex-
ton.”
The Climax.
At the conclusion of the American Revolas
tisn, Dr. Franklin, the English Ambassador and
the French Minister, Vergennes, dining to-
ether at Versailles; 2 Toast from each was
called for and agreed to. The British minister
began with;
«George 3. Who like the sub in big meris
lian, spreads a lustre throughout and enlightens
the world,’
The French Minister followed with,
16, Who like thé
moon; sheds bis mild and benignant rays on
¢ "The illustrious Louis
and influences the globe !’
Our American Frankl then gave, Ag
‘George Washington, Commarder of thé
American Who like Joshua of old;
ommanded the Sun and Moon to stand still and
army.
they obeyed him.’
The Ladies.
The tucks in the gown of a young lady, (for
are young who wear them,) are swect little
ladders of love—for him to climb up and be
py:
tier the aim, and more ambitious the pursuit. —
hap
The more numerous they are, the lof-
As the taut and neat shrouds of a vessel indicate
her readiness for sea, while a dismantled hull
nrarks the period of unusefulness and of repose ;
sa the tucks on a gown indicate the you'h, gale
ety and elasticity of the wearer . while she who
has ne tucks in ber gown, and has of course
worn them all out, may as well be Jaid up lo or<
light, but must get up earlier and carlier for
his bitters. Finding the habit was growing so
last upon him, he began to reflect ce.iously on
dinary.
iil CH STIs
Extract.
he consequences, and at last mustered up ail
his resolution to overcome it. One morning he
got up very early went to his closet took out his
bottle, gave it 2 parting look and dashed it to
pieces against a stone, liquor and all. My
The parting of friends is death in miniature.
You have not it is true the glazed eyc—the
closed lip—the damp flesh-—the marble cous
tenance-—the ghastly form, and the horrible re-
mother exclaimed, « Why, what in the world is [pose of death ; but you feel that which chicfly
the matter! Why do you throw your boitle
away ¢” His reply deserves to be recorded in
letters of gold : «1 am resolved that liquor
He lived to a
good old age ; the lord was his strength and
his portion ; the Bible was his constant compan.
shall never get master of me.”
ion, and he died the death of the righteous.—
Ision of this same paternal inheritance, which
'
|
their ancestors preserved by throwing away the
bottle.’
Thus we see how important it is to check
the growth of evil habits before they get the
|mastery.
| 2 | CR —
WOMAN :—0R POUR ET CONTRE.
She, while Apostles shrank, could dar ger brave,
Last at his cross and earliest at his grave.’
cmbitters death, the agony of separation. Yet
we pat with our friends daily, and there is
somewhat of cheerfulness mingled with the re-
luctance with which we take leave of each oth=
er. A sight glow on the cheek, a tremulous
-rasp of the hand, and a few sighs soon diss'p~
Ipated in the surrounding atmosphere, are the
fleeting memorials of the severance of the liv-
ing.
The hope that we may meet again, and the
belief that we will meet again~—and the confi-
dence that Heaven will continue to us ils merci-
ful protection—these are the consoling stamina
of happiness, How wretched then must be he
who, in death, bath not hope, because he hath
oot faith, Religion would, therefore, be a bless-
A belief
in the superintending goodness cf the Deity is
ing even it ts promises fail of reality.
a safc and delightful substitute when the wis-