El i 1327. VaDaal2D4l.2o] .'l-u ", - a 70 is Age a Mend of Youth, RI V. U. FOSTER hays passed since we have met; wd things are altered now ; .'s sunny hours in gloom have set,l . .501 sorrow clouds my brow: TD, now intrude where flowers one,. - a • visions bright, are o'er ; fed its dreams when life Was ew 3:t et! I dream no more." t i m e hath changed—the joyous,gl7 I' .. '3Y Tooth and health hath fled ; pulse beats faint and low— ihuh, not long, the dead : ---'` l i ed to see hope's dreams depart, ki does the light at even ; • - !hope alone now cheers my heart-- • :is the sweet hope of Heaven. ;parted in our youth and prime, When all- was bright and fair ; .Xif each were• then untouched by time— .fr Air eyes undimmed by care 17 , : hearts swelled high with hope and bliss; Ile future then was bright ; changeless -ray,of happiness, I kchilfici by sorrow's blight. - 1 g have we toiled for wealth and fame, slid care and pain and strife ; el lately deemed an empty name Our highest aim in life ! .rt,now—when age bath cooled the fire That burned in youth so bright— ') nobler joys our hearts aspire, Where'dwelle eternal light. BFI when I look upon thy face, .342 wan and wrinkled o'er; 'ink mark I scarce can trace, of what thou roast before : 'Se light hath faded.frern thine eyes— The beauty from thy brow : 2,outhful smile is now a sigh- 7 , J! thou art Eaten' now ! ...till old friend, 'tis not for nought W e tread life's stormy way ; .; with this price a home is bought,. In realms Of - endless day ; ,ere. free'd from every pain and care— Frora grief's stern chastening rod; ;e in a heaven of bliss shall share, fa bounties of our God. jFrom the" Weekly Mirror.] Lines by Lord BYron. TO BE UNPUBLINIED 7 te is mystic thread of life, , o clearly wreathed with mine alone, at deAtny , s relentleati knife It once must sever liotla ,or none .ere is a form on which my eyes Hive often gazed with fond delight ; .iay that form my joy supplies, end dreams restore it through the night! .ere is a VOICE whose tones inspire '.:ch thrills of rapture through my breast, I WOULD not hear a ter,:ph choir, -"liiess that voice could join the rest. ere is a tics whose Lluehes tell ~ lrections tale ,upon the cheek, , pallid at one fond farewell,) ?raclaims more love than words can speak is a sosov—ALL lIT OWN-- TO pilloctr oft my weary head ; lot-Ts which smiles on me alone, An rya whose team' with mine are shed! -rre are TWO I ,IIEAKTs, whose movements thril unisolf4,..so close and sweet, . 1 t pulse to &lee responsive still, 'hay lioth must heave or cease to beat! Al are Two sours, whose equal flow gentle streams so calmly run, •ittvlien*they part—they part 7 0 ! no ; They cannot part—those eouls are one! A Mother's " Gentle Eye." he first dear thing I ever loved Was a mo i ther's gentle eye, drat smiled as I woke on the dreamy couch That cradled - my infancy. never forget the joyous thrill . • That smile in my spirit stirred; :;or how iy could charm me against, my will Till r laughed like a joyous bird. Nary. Is thy name MnaY I lady fair: .7uch should, methinks,;its music be The.sweetest name that mortals bear, .` Were best befitting thee: For she to whom it once was given, Was half of earth and half of Beac on. Beanty. of hair is as dark as the stormy cloud, \ '''t hangs o'er the distant hill! b!ac::. as the midnight wave, •• . ,-- 11 111ko u .--- 4 ", er An Adventure in the Last War, One day during the last war, oppo site Portsmouth Harbor and about three miles froni the shore, lay a black frigate at anchor, and the continual motion on its deckS as seen with the aid of a glass from the land, betokened that some -.vent of unusual interest was soon to occur. Although it showed no colors, it required an eye of but little experience in naval matters to decide that it was English. What could be its object, was a mystery. Its wooden walls effectually concealed from many who watched it anxiously from the shore, and when during the day it was joined by another vessel of the same• class, and a heavy man-of-war, not a little ex citement was created among those who lived near the water. Towards Portsmouth the enemy had often cast longing glances. It was the key to New Hampshire and the wes tern port of Maine, and possessing one of the finest harbors in the world, where a navy, without' losin i i a spar, might ride out a tempest, i& held in their eyes a place of no mean hipor lance. f But the iron teeth that grinned on the forts at the mouth of the Piscatuqua had hitherto been an effectual check upon their courage. Besides, several thousand well, trained soldiers had col lected there, in anticipation of an at tack, and whole companies of volunteers were daily arriving from northern parts of the State, and even from the Green Mountains, panting with a desire for - the conflict. Portsmouth was under martial law. its rope walks, school houses and churches were crowded with the bone and muscle of New En gland, all determined to defend_the place to the last extreinity. The - shore was walked for miles night and day, by a corps of sentinels, and every precaution taken to guard against surprise. A notice of the approach of the war ships soon reached the town. .. ; The tall flag staff that had been placed near the. mouth of the river, and was watched from the steeples, was 'seen to have been inclined towards the sea,"which was the signal of danger agreed upon. And when the sun went down not knowing how eminent . it might be, the -excitement that filled the place was tremendous. There was mounting in hot haste, and coursers dashed through the streets like the winds. Every cart and carriage was busy in removing the women and valuables to a station of security, and the soldiers burnished their arms and renewed the charges in their pieces, and were . ready at the tap of the drum or the blast of the 6bugle, to spring to 'their defence. The night gathered dark and chilly. The heavens looked watery and filled with clouds of mist. A double watch was set upon the outposts, and the sol diers 11y doivn to dream of their home or battling for its safety. No sooner had the darkness settled on the sea than boats just observable through the twilight, were seen passing through the enemy's vessels, and evi dently bearing orders from one to the other maturing their plans. Through the opened port-holes lights could be seen flying in all directions, and there were none who saw these movements who did not feel the late of Portsmouth would be decided before morning. , All along the coast and every eminence commanding a view of the vessels were collected little companies of speculative watchers. On a little hillock, a few rods from the shore, on the east side _of the river, were gathered ten or twelve men, noting every .motion that was visible, and listening to every sound that came from the waters. ie Is it not possible to know what is the object of these water coins ?" said an old gentleman, while he strain ed his eyes as the darkness gr,.w deep er. • It might be done," said a young man whose. face had been bronzed by I a familiarity with all weathers, "it is nearly dark enough. Come, I3ill, what say you ? there Won't be so much light as comes from a cat's eye in an hour; shall we take a boat there and slip alongside ?" Bill, as a stout fel low of tinny w i pe called, could not per mit that a man younger than himself should propose a deed, he would shrink from executing, and immediately signi fied his willingness to join in the almost reckless enterprise. - The night was cloudy, the darknesi had settled thick and heavy, the waves looked like a black, undulated pall, and as though to increase the awfulness et their condition, the British hail extin guished their lights, soon aft ir the ad , - venturers had launched their - beat, and not an object could be traced in the al. Regardless of Denunciation (from any Quarter.—Gov. PoIITEII. ‘II I OVTAIISITD.E.9 aLrLDIFOMM itURTU D 2,61:09 L2MUM f 29 L,G4',to most palpable blackness, the boat's length distance. They rowed in silence for some time, and had gone two-thirds of the distance before either spoke . ; " are you sure this is the right course, Ned ?" at length said Bill, as they res ted on their oars. " Hush,-speak lower. No, lam not certain, but we cannot be far from them. If but one star would look out it would be better than this eternal gloom. I cannot even see the lights on shore, through his fog. What a murky night we are dut in ! Gloomy as a grave yard." " Hang the British,l had ra ther met a legion of them by daylight," whispered Bill, moodily. But hark ! there they lay, dead ahead, and getting ready.to make a port too," he continu ed, as he beard the low gratings of a cable, as it was slowly and cautiously drawn up. Lightly as the swallow's wing the oars dipped into the brine, silently as the fin of a shark, the boat eut the wa ter, and directed by the sound, ere the anchor swung at the bow, they 'glided unseen under the very stern of the large vessel. Here they held fast for several minutes, in breathless anxiety to catch some word which should re ' veal the desired secret. But the hum ' ming of voices out of which nothing distinct could be gathered, was mingled with the winds, sighiog through the rigging, and the dashing of the waves against the huge fabric. With their patience nearly worn out, Ned atlength whispered, " Bill, if you cak keep your hold I will go aboard and et a full report of these villains' businks." The latter was- about to reply tihen they heard hurried motions on the deck, a large boat was let down, and a dozen men, all of whom, by the faint light of a lantern, they discovered to be armed, pushed off towards the shore that lies south of the Piscatuqua. Scarcely had they gone, when Ned, with the assistance of a rope that drag ged into the water , climbed to the deck. The watch was grouped beside a gun carriage, and Ned, as confidently as though he had been one of the crew walked by, and reaching the hatchway, descended the lower deck.. Here he found himself among several hundred men, 'a part of whom were in their harfimocks, but others, although it was !as dark as a dungeon, appeared to be arranging• their clothes and preparing for some desperate enterprise. , Almost lost,in confusion, he stood motionless at the bottom of the steps, but he had been there but a moment, when hearing some one approaching, he stepped aside hastily, and not know- ; ing where he might be, held out hi hands to grope- the way. As chance would have it, he went directly towards the head of a sailor who was trying to catch an hour's sleep before his night's work should commence. Ned qtlick ening his pace as the step came nearer, suddenly plunged his fingers into the locks of the sleeper. and with such force that his head received no incon siderable wrench.' The old tar leaped to his feet in a twinkling, and Ned darted like a chicken chased by a hawk, leaving the angry sailor daring the whole ship's company to try to take his scalp off. He soon learned that it was the in tention to make an attempt to effect an entrance of the harbor that night, and the boat he had seen leave the ship, was gone to examine the chains which had been thrown across the main channel, and if possible, saw them. This was all he could learn. It was enough, and he felt there •was urgent necessity of giving instant warning of the danger.— But when he reached the hatchway, he found the passage entirely closed by the two old veterans, half intoxicated, and who had settled themselves to have a quiet time at lancing Old England and cursing the Yankees. Ned stood by, entirely invisible, but necessarily hear ing every word: It was nearly an hour that he stood waiting for them to vise, and listening to their outbreaks o( pas sion concerning the Americans. "'Their men are no bolder than our women, and their guns are no better titan tin horns," said one, gruffly.— " No, Jack," said the other. " and do you know that•cmce on a time, about twenty of our gals on the coast of Corn wall, dressed like sailors, put off in a gun boat, and took a Yankee seventy four with no other arms than old swords ?" Ned, boiling with rage, could not hear such • slander, and re gardless of the consequences roared out, " that's a lie, you old tiog!"— Both sailors shook as though the maga zine had exploded, plunged toward him, and awakened to a sense of his situation by his own voice, Ned sprang out of their ;each, and :as soon as the uproar had in some degree subsided. made his way on deck. But here an exexpected event occurred. The boat which had left just beforehe came on board had just returned, and the crew when he sterg►ed on deck were in the act of lifting up a prisoner. Determin ed, if possible, to know who he might be, he elbowed his way with admirable coolness and succeeded in taking the arm of the prisoner. While notice of their success was passed below, Ned found an opportunity to whisper a word of encouragement in the poor fellow's ear, and when the order was given that he should be conducted to the cabin, Ned stole aft and dropped into the boat. The prisoner found the cabin furn ished in an elegant and even sumptuous stye. Sofas, book cases and tables of the costliest wood, rested on a carpet that trod like velvet. Mirrors of enor mous dimensions, reflected the occu pants at full length, on "every side. A lamp hung above a rack that looked like a dazzling pyramid, so rich were the polished sword blades and jewelled hilts, the silver scabbards, the varnished pistols, the steel sabres and the guns, touched - with the brightest finish that skill could give them. Flower vases, filled with beautiful exotics were fas tened to a stand, diffusing an agreeable odor through the cabin.—An old man with snow white hair and thoughtful brow, sat in _an antique chair of carved oak, and fashioned after such a luxuri ous pattern that one might have lounged his life out in it and never grow Weary. A girl, the daughter of the old man, with such a sweet countenance as can belong only to a pure nand, and with lips as tempting as her own rose-buds, was reading when he entered. The prisoner was brought before the hard featured veteran, and the officers ar ranged themselves about, at respectful distance. Young man," said the.old comman der, with a severe frown and penetra ting look, remember it is the truth of what you shall say, on V'hich your life depends ; any attempt at deception, in my presence. will cause you to be hung immediately at the yard-arm.— Who are you ?" "A soldier in the American Army." " And what duty were you perform ing on she ?" "That of sentinel to watch for the approach of the murdering British." " Bridle your insolence, young man ; you did not perform .your lily so, well that you can boast of your occupation," 4' Ask your servant which was the hardest, his head or my gun stock. I could not dissolve the night, but I swept away the cobwebs that clouded the stars before his eyes." • Sir," said the veteran, in a voice hoarse with anger, which he strove to conceal, what is the force assembled this night in Portsmouth? Recollect that I shall know before morning, and if you deceive me you shall die at day break." ''This morning it was proclaimed that it numbered thirty thousand, and they have five hundred cannon'in town, ready to blow your old hulks out of the water, like cockle shells, if von are so fortunate as to float, after the forts have the sifting of you." The old commander clenched his fist, his face grew white as his cravat, and he would have ordered the fearless sol dier to instant punishment for his bold reply, had not his, daughter, who had stolen to his side, 'pressed his arm and breaking info tears, whispered mercy. An.angel's tears will melt iron, or at all events, an iron soul, and his counten ance lost its sternness as he gently put her aside, and directed that the soldier should be secured and guarded on the deck for the night. As he left the cabin, the girl unseen by her father threw her arms about the soldier's shoulders, and' he, touched by such unlooked for kindness, mur mured a fervent blessing on her young heart.. The night grew darker as the minutes glided by l The mist was so dense that it was nnpossible to distinguish even the outline °flan object six feet distant; and it seemed that the clouds rested on the waves and enveloped the ship. The hands and feet of the prisoner were then ironed, and he was lashed by a rope to a gun carriage. The watch that was set over him walked the length of the deck momentarily passing and re-passing, thus rendering escape by his united efforts impossible. Ned, having again climbed on board ,had ob served them fasten the . prisoner and waited a fit time r to spring and rescue him ; and it vitas when the sentinel pass ed him to go fo the bow, that he glided to the prisotter—witli a thrust with a knife he severed the cords that bound him to the gun. and lifting him in his arms as though he were an infant, has tened to the stern and swung into the boat. As for life they plied their oars, but they had scarcely left the ship. when they heard the alarm upon the decks. Calls for lights and shouts that the prisoner had escaped, followed.— Lanterns flew through the ship, and all was confusion. The bold fellows in the boat saw all, and felt in that deep darkness, that it was impossible for the British to overtake them ; and although Within a pistol shot they were unable • to retain their joy, but with that fear lessness that characterizes American soldiers, rested on their oars and gave three hearty cheers. Scarcely had the last hurrah left their lips, than a stream of f,re shot out from the ship, and the deep boom of the cannon awakened them to their folly. Though fired at random, they heard the balls. whistle by very near them. The boatswain's shrill call to quarters rose on the night, and the sailors expecting an attackeve ry .moment, rushed to defend the decks. Our heroes reached the shore safely, and the sentinel released of his shackels, was ready to resume big arms and his duty. The night passed heavily and in suspense, and the sun from its - fied looking cold as an• icicle. The sea was blue but calm, and every ship was gone. and not a speck ! dotted it front the shore to the horizon. Bri tish -have given over all attempts on Portsmouth, but whether restrained by the crafty story of the Sentinel, or the valiant cheering of the men in the boat will perhaps ever be a point in dispute. Youth and Love. Young, loving, and beloved—Low much of happiness may be summed up in a few brief words ! All great non sense, I grant ; and at this conviction most lovers arrive in a very few months: But if it would sometimes save much sorrow, it would also destroy great en joyment, could we think at the time as we do afterwards. Yet there is a pe riod in the lives of most, when the heart opens .its leaVes, like a flower, to all the gentle influences ;—wheu .one beloved step is swept in its fall beyond all music, and the light of one beloved face is dear as that of Heaven—when the thoughts are turned to poetry, and a fairy charm is thrown over life's most ordinary occurrences; Hope, that gent lest astrologer, foretelling a future she herself has created ; when the present is colored by glad yet softened spirits, buoyant, though too tender for mirth: Who shall say that is a selfish feeling which looks in another's eyes to read its own happiness, and holds another's welfare more precious than its own What path in after time will ever be so pleasant as that one walk which delay ed on its way yet ended so soon ? What discourse of the wise, the witty, the eloquent, will ever have the fascina tion of a low simple, even infantile won's—or of the still but delicious .silence which they broke ?. Why does love affect childish expressions of en dearment, but because it has all' the truth and earnestness of childhood ? And the sinipliei ty of its language seems the proof of its sincerity. Or is it that, being unworldly Itself, it delights to retreat upon those unworldly days ? Go through life, and see if the quiet light of the stars, the passionate song of the poet, the haunted beauty of flow , ers, will ever again come home to the heart as they did in that early and only time. Contentment. If people would onli square their ideas according to their circumstances, how much happier might we all be.— If we would come down a peg or two now and then in our notions, in accor dance with our waning fortunes, hap piness might be within our reach. It is not what we have, or what we have not; which adds to, or subtraCts from ok felicity. It is the longing for more than we have, and envying of those who possess that more, and with the wish to appear in the world of more consequence than we really arc, which destroy our peace of Mind. and eventu ally lead to ruin. Reflect on these things, and be cautious In prosperity, and courageous enough to come down a little, should adverse circumstances . assail or threaten, COD'S SLUMBER.-" The Almighty is resting, or asleep," says the heart of man, when his dim eye can no longer follow his footsteps. Thus did the man once dream that the sun had stud; to sleep in-the ocean, when he was walking anil moving over a new world. 34 2 , 4 eqYaWalrfna a VSO'S Natter and Manner, There are two classes of preachers whose peculiarities may be marked by these two words. The one class make it the whole aim of their discourse to leave a strong impression of the impor , tanee of their subject. With them the matter rules the manner. You feel that they are in earnest; and you are more inclined to think of - the truth you have heard, than to criticise ; the style, voice, and gestures of the speaker. The other class so write or speak, as to leave the impression that they de dire 'rather to.givc a specimen of their elegant styli and oratorical powers, than to enforce truth. With them the manner rules the matter. Indeed, the only use of the matter _seems to be, like that of a dandy's body, to furnish a frame work to show fine clothes on. It is impossible to feel that such mend 'are in earnest. They seem to write and speak, not for the purpose of ma ' king you wiser and better, but for the sake of writieg and speaking. Nor are preachers of this class very rare.— One may hear many a pretty sermon, so filled With harmonious sentences and and beautiful figtires, that all tho't of the subject is swallowed up in admi ration of its. dress ; and set off with for ced tongues and gestures, as to take away every particliof real earnestness from the preacher's manner. flower er hard it may be for our fine writers and speakers. to believe it, it is never theless certain, that it is quite impossi ble to mould a harmonious sentence to harmony, to introduce a beautiful figure for the sake of beauty, or to use a par ticular tone or gesture for the sake of oratorical effect, without betraying the design to nine-tenths of the audience, and so utterly defeating the true pur pose of speaking and writing. All such ornaments in style as a supreme desire_ to enforce the truth does not sug gest, and such as do most evidently subserve this end ; as well as all tones and gestures which a really earnest spirit does not supply, should be pru ned away without mercy. They ef fect no other end than to Increase the speaker's vanity. To be in earnest, atid therefore to appear so, is the first qualification of a preacher. Such a man's audience will seldomgo away talking of his fine talents, sw&t•voice, or beautiful style ; they will think of the matter and not of the manner, be cause the pearlier himself has done A Scene at Camberwell Fair. Following the stream. I entered the crowded avenue. 4- Best spice nuts, sir," bawled out a, stout man, thrusting a cake under my nose. " The real ar ticle—try 'em, sir—." Ilere you are, sir," cried an old woman, interpos ing her specimen. " The Reading nuts, sir, only a shilling a pound : —." " The original spice nuts, sir," said a sett voice in my ear; while a light hand on my arm invited me to turn. A rosy, smiling girl, With saucy blue eyes,, stood balancing a spice nut between as taper a finger and thumb as nature ever tipped with rose, " The original spice nuts, sir," she repeated with a roguish smile. I looked at the cake as she held itat arm's length. A rich, brown, irre , gutar surface, with a glorious piece of lemon-peel • extending,' like a smile across its tawny face. Lhesitated. She passed the tip of her fore-finger from end to end of the fragment lemon-peel, indicating its abundance- The white finger moved along the lucid yellow, like ivory on amber. I felt the force of the argument and decided in favor of originality. " A pound, sir ?" she en quired, diving intb the grgat canister, (what a pretty attitude ?) There was a crisp rattling among the cakes half way down in the canister ; and she speedily returned to the surface with an abundant catch. The bag was filled, swung around my ears, and delivered, with great despatch, I handed her half a crown in payment. She took the coin. and bit it. The action was prudent, but disenchanting. I , took my chaege and passed on. C DRISTIA NITY.--rure and genuine Christianity never was, nor ever can he, the national religion of any country upon earth. It is a gold too. relined to be Worked upon in any human institu tion; without a large portion of alloy : for no sooner is this small grain of mustered seed watered with the fertile showers of civil emoluments, than it grows up into a large and spreading tree, under the shelter of whose branch es the •biils of prey and_ plunder will not fait to Make for thetoselves-comfor trible habitations, and theritt>. tiorltce .It 3 bt-Anty arid destroy its fruits. Frao 440
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