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