173*Z4 2 041%)
PEI
Epistl„
r oTp 3 YDV*O I.ltlrr mrplAtiarin.
oritoony's fickle,ra
tbou'rt ventniedfairly ;
young , in-years, it may not be
ly bark is launched too early.
• pig' of mine to heaven is sent,
Rat so the stormy water •
t p tp rove 'a wife obedient,
whoa bast been a ,daughter.
4j i wish of. mine were bliss, '
feted hope were pledsure,
wou idir with him find happiness,
pi he in thee a treasure;
'lesery wish and hope of mine,
Joi every thought and feeling,
bribe weal of thee and thine,
As true as my revealing..
please thy husband in all things, '
Tomer, be thou zealous; .
ukit in mind that tove has wings,
v il os sver make him jealous ;
of if from his .o:erch once flies,
lion Irak are Bea;ity's jesses
! la in might plead tffy streaming eyes,]
t a d thrdishevelle4 tresseer. •
pnplenk 011
f thy, thopghts of dress;
Be sparing of thy parties ;
Where fashion riots tin excess,
0! nothing there of heart. is ;
teen its palling sweetti Compare
With love of faithful bosom?
Jen of the fatal tree beware,
There's poison in its blossom !
ch thought and wish in him confide;
No secretfrom him cherish;
beuever thou hest aught to hide,
Thti better feelings perish.
whaisoe'er ye do or say,
0 neve' with him palter;
imher too, thou saidst " obey "
fefore the.holy altar:
and forbear. for much thoulTfit'id
married life to tease ye, -
iboold thy:husbami . seem unkind,_
iqrse to smile, or please ye.:
nt that amid the cares of life
Ms troubles fret and fear him;
smile as it becomes a wife,
and labor well to cheer him.
re, answer hint with loving word,
Bo each tone kindly spoken,
)ractimes is tholuily cord
iy angry jarring broken.
en curb thy tetriper lin its rage,
k4d-fretfal be thou never;
Token ice, a fearful change
towns over both forever.
thy neek light hang the chain,
ir.livinen now bath:bound ye"
thee and thine may pleasure reign,.
/aid smiling friends stuOund
• fare-ye well, anA,niitY each time
snn smiles, find ye wiser; .
, (Maly take thewell meant rhyme
Of thy sincere adviser.
Love and Hope.
NT TIIONAR NOORr.
,beside yon summer sea,
zalliope and. Love reclined
"metleal noon-tide come, when he
leaped smilingly,
left poor Hope behind,
'aid Love, "to sail awhile
this sunny main."
so sweet, was.bis parting smite,
who never dreams of guile
, _
come again.
there till evening's beam
the waters lay ;
the sands, in thonghfut dream,
nis name, which still the stre a m,
.a.washed away. - •
gth a sad appears in sight,
towards the maiden Moves!
'earth that comes, and gay and bright,
len bark reflects the light,
Rh! not Love's.
Friendship showed
night-lamp o'er sea;•
. the light that lamp bestowed ;•
had lights that wanner glowed•,•
where, alas! was he!
"wound the tea and shore'
threw her darkling chain; Y
ly sails were-seen no more,
totting dream's of bliss were o'er - ,--
terer came.eiain.
The Passions.
cone are a num'fous crowd;
Nur, positive, and loud.
.1 licentious sans gaffe
aiefly, rise the stormslof life:
grow mirtinous, and rave,
Ire masters, thou their shore.
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s
-- In one of the loviest villages of old .
Virginia, there lived, in the year 176,
"an odd old man, whose daughter was
declared ty universal consent, to be the
-loveliest maiden in - all the country .
round. The veteran in his youth was
athletic and muscular above all his fel
lows ; and his breast, where he always
wore them, could show the adorn
ment of three medals, received for his
victories in gymnastic feat's when a
young man. His daughter was now
eighteen, and had been sought in- mar
riage by many suitors. One brought
wealth—another a fine person--anoth
er this, and another that. But they
were all refused by the old man, who
became at last a by-word for his obsti
nacy among the young men of the vil
lage and neighborhood.
- At length the nineteenth birth-day of
Annette,his charming daughter,who was
amiable and modest as she was beauti
ful, arrived. The morning of that day.
her father- invited all the youth of the
country to a hay making frolic.
Seventeen handsoine and industrious
young men assembled. They come
not only to make , hay, but also to make
love to the fair _ Annette. In three.
hours they had filled the- father's barns
with . ,the newly dried grass, and their
own - hearts.with fore. Annette, by her
father's command, had brought the
malt liquor of her own brewing, which
she presented to each enamoured swain
with her own fair hands.
"Now my boys," said the old keep
er of the jewel they all coveted, as
leaning on their pitch-forks, they - as.
sembled round his door in the cool of
the evening. " Now my lads, you
have nearly all of you made propOsals
for my Annette.—Now you see I don't
care anything about money or talents,
book laming nor‘soldier laming, I can
do as well by my gal a any in the
country. But I want her to marry a
man of my own grit. Now you know,
or ought to know, when I was a young
ster, I could beat anythin g in the way
of leaping. I got my old woman by
beating the smartest man on the tas
tern shore ; and I. have took the oath
and sworn it, that no than shall m4gry
my daughter without,, jumping for it.
You - , understand me boys. There's
the green, and here's, Annette:: he ad
ded taking his daughter, who stood
timidly behind him, by the hand.—
Now, the one that jumps the further
est on a, dead level shall marry Annette
this very night."
This unique address was received by
the ybung men with applause..' And
many a youth as he bounde,d g4ilyi for,
ward to the arena of trial, cast a glance
. of anticipated victory back upon the
lovely object of village chivalry. The
maidens left- the looms and quilting
frames—the children their noisy sports
—the slaves their labors, and the old
men their arm-chairs and 'long
pipes,' to witness and triumph - in the
success of the victor. All prophesied
and many ; wished, that it would be'
Cerro!. He was the handsom
young
est and best humored youth, in the
county, and all knew that a strong and
mutual attachment existed between him
and the fair Annette. , Cerrot had won
the reputation of being the " best leap
er," and in a country where such ath
letic achievements were the " sine qua
non" of a man's cleverness, this was
no ordinary honor. In a contest like
the present; he had therefore every ad
vantage over his fellow " athletae. '
The arena allotted for this hy menial
contest, was a level space in front of
the village inn, and near the centre of a
grass plat reserved in the midst of the
village, denominated the " green."—
The verdure was ; quite worn off at
this place fly the previous exercises of
a similar kind and - a bard surface of
sand befittingly for the purpose to
which it was to be used, supplied its
place,
The father of the lovely, blushing.
and withal happy prize, (for she well
knew who would win.) with three oth
er patriarchal villagers, were the judg
es appointed to decide upon the claims
of the several competitors. The last
time Carrot tried his skill in this exer
cise, he cleared" (to use the leaper's
phraseology) twenty one feet and one
inch.
,The signal was given, and6by lot the
men stepped into arena.
. "Edward Grayson seventeen feet,"
cried one of the judges. The youth
had done his utmost. He was a pale,
intellectual student. But what had in
tellect to do in 'an arena? With.
out a look at the maiden he left the
ground.
Dick Boulden, nineteen feet."—
The Village Prize.
Regardless of Denunciation from any Quarter.—Gov. PonTsat
Drazza - oza) ammu-2. 2 ommale, 4309 act*.
Dick with a laugh turned away, and
replaced his coat.
" Harry Preston, nineteen feet and
three inches."
Well done Harry Preston," shout
ed the spectators. " You have tried
hard for the acees and homestead."
Harry also laughed, and swore he
only jumped for the " fun of the thing."
Henry was a rattle-brained fellow but
never thought of m-atrimony. He lov
ed to walk and talk, and laugh and
romp with Annette. but sober marriage
Inever came into his head. He only
I jumped for the " fun of the thing." He
would not have said so if he was sure
of winning.
" Charley Simms, fifteen feet and a
half," Harrah for Charley ! " Char
ley win," cried the crowd good humor
edly. Charley Simms was the clever
est fellow in the world. His mother
had advised him to stay at home, and
told him if he ever won a wife she
would fall in love with his good temper,
rather than his lee. Charley howev
er made the trial of the latter's capa
bilities and lost. Others made the
trial, and only one of the leapers had
yet cleared twenty feet.
•• Now cried the villagers, •• let's
see Harry Carrot. He ought to. beat
this," and every ofie appearedoas they
called to mind the mutual love of the
,la l st competitor, and the sweet Annette,
as if they heartily wished his success.
Henry stepped to his post with a
firm tread. His eye glanced with con
tidence'around upon the villagers and
rested, before he bounded forward -upon
the face of Annette, as if to catch there
from that spirit of assurance which the
the occasion called for. Returning the
encouraging glance, with which she
met his own, with a proud smile upon
his, he bounded forward.
"Twenty one feet and a half. Har
ry Carrot forever, Annette and Harry."
Hands, caps and hand-kerchief waved
over the heads of the spectators, and
the eyes of the delighted Annette spark
lee with joy.
When Harry, Carrot moved:to his
station to strive for the prize, a tall
gentlemanly young man, in a - military
undress frock coat, who had rode up
to the inn, dismounted, and joined the
spectators, unperceived, while the con
test was going - on ; stepped suddenly
forward and with a knowing eye, meas
ured deliberately the space accomplish
ed by the last leaper. He was a stran
ger in the village. His handsome face
and easy address attracted the eyes oi
the village maidens, and his manly and
sinewy frame, in which symmetry,and
strength were happily_ united, called
forth the admiration of the young men.
Mayhap, sir stranger, you think
you can beat that," said one of the by
standers, remarking the manner in
'which the eye of the stranger scanned
the area. "If you can leap beyond
Harry Carrel, you'! beat the best man
in the colonies."
The truth of this observation was as
sented to by a general murnien
"Is it for mere amusement you are
pursuing this
,pastime," inquired the
Youthful stranger, or is there a prize
for the winner. '
-
" Annette the loveliest and wealthi
est of our village maidens, is to.be the
reward of the victor," cried one of the
judges.
ke the lists open to all ?"
" JO! ! young sir," replied the fath
er of Annette, with interest, his youth
ful ardor rising as he surveyed the pro
portionl of the straight limbed young
stranger. •'She is -the bride of him
who out-leaps Harry Carrol. If you
will try you are free to do so. But let
me tell you, Harry Carrol, has no watch
in Virginia. Here's my daughter sir,
look at her, and make you] trial."
The young officer glanced upon the
trembling maiden, about to be offered
on the altar of her father's unconquera
ble monomania, with an admiring eye.
The poor girl looked at Harry, who
stood near with a troubled brow and
angry eye, and then cast upon the new
competitor an, imploring glance.
Placing his coat, in the hands of one
of the jud ges he drew a sash he wore
beneath it, tightened it around his waist,
and Inking the apppointed stand, made
apparently without effort the bound
that Iris to decide the happiness or mis
ery of Harry and Annette.
"Twenty-two feet and one inch,"
shouted the judge. The announce
, ment was repeated with surprise by the
spectators, who criwded around the
victor, filling the air with congratula
tions, not unmingled, however, with
loud murmurs from those who were
mors nearly interested in the happiness
of tlfe lovers.
The old mare approached , . and grasp
ittg his hand excitingly. called him hii
son, and he felt prouder of him than if
he was•a prince. Physical activity and
strength were the old leaper's trne pat
ent of nobility.
Resuming his coat the victor sought
with his eye the fair prize he sad, al
though nameless and unknown tio
fair
ly won. -She leaned upon her 6ther's
arm. pale and distressed: •
Her lover stood aloof, glooniy and
mortified, admiring the superiority of
the stranger in an exercise in which he
prided himself as unrivalled, white he
hated him for his success. -
" Annette, my pretty prize, aid the
victor, taking her passive band, "I
have won you • fairly." Annette's
cheek became paler than marble; she
trembledjike an aspen leaf, and clung
closerto her father, while the drooping •
eye sought the form of.her lover. His
brow grew !dark at the stranger's
language.
. .
" I-have won you, my pretty flow
er, to make .you a bride l—,tremble not
so violently-4 mean not ixlYself, how
ever proud I might be, he added with
gallantry, to wear so fair a gem 'next
my heart. Perhaps," and he' cast his
eyes round inquiringly. while the cur
rent of life leaped joyfully to her brow,
and a murmur of surprise ran through'
the crowd—" perhaps, there is some fa
vored .youth among the competitors,
who has a higher claim to this jewel:
Young sir," he continued, turning to
the surprised Henry, "Methinks you
'were victor in the list before me-L-I
strove not for the maiden,' though one
could not well strife for a fairer—but
from love for, the manly sport in which
I saw you engaged.. You are the vic
tor, as such, with the permission of
this worthy assembly receive from my
hand the prize you have so well and
honorably won."
The youth stept foward and grasped
his hand with gratitude,, and the' next
moment, Annettee was weeping
,from
pure joy, upon his shoulder. The
welkin rung with acclamations of the
delighted villagers and amid the tern-,
porary excitement produced by the act,
the stranger. withdrew from the crowd,
mounted his horse, and spurred at a
brisk trot through the village. _ •
That night Henry and Annette were
married, and the health of the myste
rious and noble-hearted stranger, was
drank in overflowing bumper of rustic
beverage.,
In process of time, there were born
unto the married pair, sons and daugh
tars, and Harry Carroll had become
Col. Henry Cairo! of the Revolutiona
ry army.
One evening, having just returned
home, after a hard campaign, he was
sitting with his family on the gallery
of his handsome country house, when
an advanced _courier rode up and an
nounced the approach of General Wash.
ington and suite, informing him he
should crave his hospitality for the
night. The necessary directions were
given in reference to the house hold
preparation, and Col. Carroll, ordering
his horse rode forward to meet and es
cort to his house the distinguished'
guest, whom he had never yet- seen,
altho' serving in the same witlly ex
tended army.
That evening at the table; Annette,
(now become the dignified, matronly,
and still handsome Mrs. Carroll) could
not keep her •eye from the illustrious
visitor. Every moment 'or two she
tvould steal a glance at his own com
manding features, and 'half doubtingly,
half assuredly, shake her head and look
again, to be still more puzzled. Her
absence of mind and embarrassment
at length became evident to her husband
who affectionately inquired if she were
ill!
"I suspect Colonel," said the Gen
eral, who had been, with a quiet, mean
ing smile, observing the lady's curious
and puzzled survey of his features, tijat
Mrs. Carrot thinks she recognizes'an
old aCquaintance.", And he smiled
with a mysterious air, as she gazed on'
both alternately.
The Colonel started and a faint mem
ory of the past seemed to be revived as
gazed, while the lady rose impulsively
from her 'chair, and bending eagerly
forward over the tea urn, .with clasped
hands, and an eye of intense, eagerio
quiry tiled full upon him, stood for a.
moment with her lips parted parted, as
if she would speak. •
"Pardon me, my dear madam—par
don me. Colonel—l must put an end
to this scene. I have heroine by dint
of eatnp fare and hard usage, too nu
wieldly to leap again twenty-two feet
and one inch even for so fair a bride as
one I wot of."
Tho recognition, with the surprise,
delight and happiness that followed.are
left to he imagination of the reader.
General Washingten I
was indeed the
handsome young "leaper" whose mysz
terious appearance andi disappeatance
in. the native village Of the lovers is
still - traditionary, and whose claim to a
`substantial body of. " b i ona fide" flesh
and blood, was stoutly contested by the
village story - tellers, uOtil the happy
denounment which took place at the
hospititable mansion of Col. Carroll:
/a Insult well answered.
At a late detiocratic !m eeting In Vir
ginia, Maj. Daiezec(Jackson's compan
ion' in arms at New Orleans) was one
of the speakers. After be had con
cluded, a . Whigaslied the pri'ilege of
replying, wbich;Was granted, when le'
taunted 3hj. D. with being a .forefen
err to which he replied
Stn--I am sorry to interrupt yob,
but,' can permit no man to use such
*page in my presence. Judging
.from your appearande, I was an Amer
ican citizen before you were born. I
have a son, born an American citizen,
older than you. As for myself, I have
been four times naturalized. .1 was
naturalized by the sanctity of
. the treaty
of Lonisiana, the highest form of law
known'to the Constitirtion. The rights
°lan American citizen were conferred
upon me by the law creating the Ter
ritorial Government , of Louisiana; and
I was admitted to all the rights, bles
singS, and obligations which belong to
you; Iffy fellow citizens, by the law
bringing the State of Louisiana into our
glorious confederacy." Then turning
to tile whig speaker, his ,eye flashing
as on the plains of New Orleans, and
heartswelling with the majesty of old
recollections, he continued: Sir,
You, look now as if you desired to
know where and when was ; the fourth
time of my naturalition, and, who were
my sponsors. The consecrated spot on
which I received the right of naturali
zation, was the battle ground of New
Orleans ; the altar was victory ; the
baptismal water was blood and fire;,
Andrew Jackson was my god-father ,
and patrietism,freetlorn and glory were
my god,mothers."
The mighty mass Of listeners rose
Spontaneously, and gave nine cheers
for our gallant, speaker, The coon was
soon missing.
CHA'NGE OF CUSTOMS WITHIN' FIFTY
YEARS.—The following extracts are
from an article in the New York Mir
ror, They are designed by the writer
for New York particularly, but are ap. ,
pliable to other portions of our coun
try, and worthy of attention. The wri
ter says:
When Washington was. President,
his wife knit his stockings in PhiLadd : .
phia, and the mother made doughnuts
and cakes betiveen Christmas and New
Years ; now- the married ladies are too
proud to make doughnuts; besides they
don't ,know ; solthey send to Madame
Pompadour, or some other Frefich
cake-baker, and buy some sponge cake
for three dollars a pound. In those
days, New York was full of substantial
comforts, now. it is fall of splendid mis
ery ; then, there were no grey headed
ipinisters, (unless they were ugly in
deed) for a man could get married for a
dollar ,and begin hcnise-keeping for
twenty, and in washing his clothes and
cooking his victuals, the wife saved
more than it took to kiep her. Now,
I have known- a minister to get five
hundred dollars for - buckling a couple;
then the wine; cake, and etceteras, five
hundred more.; weddingr clothes and
jewels a thousand more; six or seven
hundred in driving to the springs or
some mountain ; -then -a house must be
got for eight hundred dollars per annum,
and furnished ; at an expense of two or
three thousand, and when all is done.
his pretty wife can neither make a cake',
nor put an apple in a dumpling. Then
a cook must - -: be' got for, twenty dol
lars per month, a chambermaid, a laud
dress. a seamstress, at seven dollars
each, and, as the fashionable folly of
the day has - banished the mistress from
the kitchen, those blessed helps afore
said, reign supreme; and while mis
tress is playing cards in the parlor, the
servants are
. playing the devil in the
kitchen-4huS lighting !the candle at
both ends .it soon burns out.. Poverty
tomes in .at the:doer an 4 drives love out
ht the win dot+ stupid and expen
sive nonsense whieh :deters so many
Unhappy Old' bachelors I From entering
the state of blessedness. ihenee you find
mote deaths than marriages. ' •
.
QuAtcvn ToasT: l 7 -This 'from` me and
mine to thee,end I wish when
thou, and thine mine to see' e and mine.
that nap.and treat. thee 'and
thine A:?:- ) kindly• as :thou and. thine have
treated me' and Mine. ,
~~ .
ME
; • t
, , 1
1,
tf
tUS2 ta. ctvociaaciat Was
IE
Courtship.
The New York tells - the
following anecdotes Jonathan walks
in. takes - a seat. and looks at Sukey.
rakes up the fire,iblows ont- the candle.
and don't look it) Jonathan. Jonathan
hitches and wriggles about in his chair.
and Sukey sit; perfectly stilt. At
length Jonathan , Mustera coniage and
spealleth.:=
Sukey ?
Well, Jonatha - n.
I lore you like pizen and
isweet
meats.
Dew tell ! 1
It's a tam, and no mistake--wi—will
yej hate me Sukey ?
Jonathan Higgins, what am your
politics ?
I'm for Polk straight !
Wall, sir, you can walk right straight
hum, core I • win% have nobody that
ain't for Clay-4hat's eat.
Three eheers
for the mill boy of
the slashes," s, ng out Jonathan.
That your sort ! sayS Sukey. When
shall we be , maOiecl. Jonathan ?
Soon's Clays elected.
Ahem ! A•a-liem !
What's the tr4tter. Sukey-?
Sposin he al,n't elected ? • .
Jonathan, did n't go away till next
morning, but Whether he answered the
last question, this deponent . knowet#
not.
4ssian
The beardedltussian, no matter what
influence he may derive from, hid
wealth, is stilf a gross barbarian. His
odor is insupportable—arising from is
variety ef - cauSes, but chiefly from the
vapor-bath, villich he is so fond of,, and
which he enjoys at a.heat sufficient to
cook . fish. Title steaming restiltof this,
considering the nature of his diet, may
be faintly gue'ssed at.
He eats large quantities of the rank
hempseed oil, either as a soup, or in
his pastry, his buckwheat or his vege
tables, during the fast, which lasts half
the year. Hut the principal bulk of his
food is the fermented cabbage, and the
sour blackbreat i y
l which is scarcely,
more nourishing - than bran. Some ,
thing of the essence of all these things
:eem to streain through his pores with
he perspiration.
The Emperor Alexander was so sen
sitive to Mi l s' peculiarity, thapie used
to burn 'perfumes wheneveriny Rus,
sians of rank had left hirpresence
Hoors OR IIIiNDS.-Mr. Verplanck 3
in his masterly letter before the Meehan
ics' Institute, observes thet " several
years eat). i in conversing With a very
ingeniousand well-informed friend.
now deceased, I was Much struck by a
transient obServation of his. "In spite,"
said he, "nf man's boasted intellect,
he is as Minh indebted to his pres
ent state ineivilized life to the hand as
to the head. Suppose," said he, "that
the human arm had terminated in a hoof
or a claw, instead of a hand, what
woyld hair been the present state of
society, and how far would mere intel
lect have carried us ?" Ido not know.
(continued; the lecturer.) ;.whether this
idea was original with my friend or not,
aithobgh I have never since heard it or
met with it in books; and as be did
not foll Owl it out any further, I cannot
Pay what Iwhere the particular~ conse
quences lip meant to infer from it."
This grotesque and unphilosophical
idea belohgs to Helvetii's, who carried
it out as tax as it could he carried.—
One Might as wationally conjecture what
would ha >e been the condition , of man:
kindif they had been constructed so as
walk on their heads instead of their‘feet.
Mr. Verrilanck, however, uses the idea
very skillfully as the the teat for his
discourse;'„
(TAGES OF ADVERTISING.—The
fork MorOing * Post says :—A.
merchant of this city, who has
ore - advertising to the press
ADVAN'
New
wealthy'
elven
than an ,;+ - other merchant here. once
told, thel editor of this paper. that he
commenced . business with a determiha
tion'to expend in advertising all his
profits fin. the 'first Att.& years, but that
he soot found it impossible to do so ;
the,fastei he paid it out, the! more re
ceived, and could he have mOnopoliied
all the p pens in the city,- he would have
been re - l aid tenfold. . . ..
. .
A Niiw Kixo Or Mon Qumimp--
Mr: Walsh; in his list: letter to the Na
tional 'lttelligencer. after • speaking of
the,riot ) and violence that a'ttentled the
recent election in Greece. says., that
in a church, where the ballotbok was
held, aigeneral exchange Of blows was.
stepped .bv,;:t rustic, whek emptied
hive iaSt of ilitt 'coml. •
hataiit.; . l":
.
ME
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Zeio Aeo