The ?lrsE ! whate'er the Muse inspires,
Mvsru! the tuneful strain admires.. ..scott.
.V sif ft
ask tiii: 1IOUK.
nr T. jiooiie.
.2;,. Jty husband a journey to Portugal gone.
Xe'er ask the hour what is it to us
How Time deals out his treasures ?
The iroidcn moments lent us thus?,
Arc not his coin, but Pleasure's.
If counting1 them over could add to their blisses,
I'd number each glorious second ;
But moments of joy arc, like Lcsbia's kisses,
Too quick and sweet to be reckoned.
Then fill the cup what is it to us
How time his circle measures ?
The fairy hours we call up thus,
Obey no wand but Measure's !
Young1 Joy ne'er thought of counting hours,
Till Care, one summer's morning',
Sat up among his smiling flowers,
A dial, by way of warning;
But joy lov'd better to gaze on the Sun,
As long as his light was glowing,
Than to watcli with old Care how the shadow
stole on,
And how last the light was going.
So fill up the cup what is it to us
How time his circle measures ?
The fairy hours wc call up thus,
Obey no wand but Pleasure's !
THINGS I BO NOT AND HAVE NOT
KNOWN
A married man 1 do not know
Who's free from noise and strife ;
A single man I do not know,
"Who would not have a wife.
A woman I have never known,
"Who would not married be ;
A woman I have never known,
"Who married and was free.
I never knew an aged man,
Who truly wished to die ;
I never knew a youthful man,
Who never breathed a sigh.
I never knew an idle man,
Whom Satan could not hire ;
I never knew a trading man,
"Who never proved a iiar.
I never knew a witty man,
Who wealthy ever was ;
I never knew a simple man,
15ut meddled with the laws.
I never knew a singing man,
Who did not relish wine ;
I never knew a rhyming man,
"Who ne'er went out to dine.
A homely maid 1 never knew,
Wiio so herself believed ;
A handsome maid I never knew,
Who could not be deceived.
Variety 's the very spice of life,
That gives it all its flavor.
view s or this country.
A volume lias issued from the London Tress
in the present year, entitled, Viezvs of Society
c ml ) la nners of America, n a scries of letters
from this country to a friend in England during
the years 1813, 1819, and 1320, by an KngUsh
vo?nm:." This hook is now reprinting in New
York, and it well deserves to issue from an Amer
ican I'rcss. It is so unexpected to find an En- I
glish traveller speaking well of the Society or
Manners, the People or Institutions of the Uni
ted States that wc have been agreeably disap
pointed :a reading the present work. The au
thor appears to have gone home with feelings of
kindness and gratitude towards the people of
this country. Wc have made aVvy extracts so
that they may hear her speak fcr herself.
Dcm. 1',-css.
a The in Miners of the -vomen strike
me as peculiarly marked by sweetness,
artlessness, and liveliness : there is a
botit them, at least in my eyes, a cer
tain untaught grace and gaiety of the
w ,..v &; ft.si
fx
heart, equally removed from the stud-jber,
icd English coldness and indifference,
and the no less studied French vivaci
ty and mannerism. They enter very
early into society : far too early, indeed,
to be consistent with a becoming atten
tion to the cultivation of their minds,
t am, however, acepjainted with strik
ing exceptions to this general prac
tice." p. 35.
" I ought not to omit n remark, not
merely upon the elegance of the dress
of these young, gay creatures, but
what is far better, on their modesty.
It may be sometimes more showy and
costly than is wise or befitting in the
daughters of a republic, but it never
mocks at decency, as does that of our
English ladies, who truly have often
put me to the blush for their sex and
their nation." u. CG-T.
t; The iizuntc men do not in general
appear to me to equal in grace their
fair companions, nor, indeed, in gene
ral ease of manner and address. In
accosting a stranger, they often as
sume a solemnity of countenance, that
is at first rather appalling. They seem
to look as if waiting until you should
"open your mouth in wisdom," or as
if gathering their strength to open
theirs in the same manner. I have
more than once, upon such an occasion,
hastened to collect my startled wits,
expecting to be posed and shamed by
some profound inquiry into the history!
of the past, or the probable events oij
the future. I could ill convey to you
the sudden relief I have then experi
enced on hearing some query upon
the news of the day, or as to my gen
eral opinion of Lord Byron's poetry.
It is not from the young men in an idle
drawing room that a stranger should
draw his picture of an American,
lie must look at these youths when
stamped with manhood, when they
have been called upon to exercise their
rights as citizens, and have not merely
studied the history and condition of
their country, but are thoroughly im
bued with the principles of its govern
ment, and with that philosophy which
their liberal institutions are so well
calculated to inspire. The youth of
both sexes here enjoy a freedom oj in
tercourse unknown in the older and
more formal nations of Kurope. They
dance, sing, walk, and " run in sleighs"
together by sunshine and moonshine,
without the occurrence or even the ap
prehension of any impropriety. In
this bountiful country, marriages are
seldom dreaded as imprudent, and
therefore no care is taken to prevent
the contracting earl- engagements. It
is curious to see how soon these laugh
ing maidens arc metamorphosed into
fond wives and attentive mothers ; and
these giddy youths into industrious
citizens and thinking politicians. Mar
riages are usually solemnized in the
paternal mansion of the bride, in which
the young couple continue to reside for
six or twelve months. It is seldom
that the young woman brings with her
any dowry, or that the husband has
much to begin the world with, sare a
gay heart and good hopes ; which, even
should he fail in his profession as law
yer, or physician, or merchant, are not
extinguished, for he has still the wide
field of bounteous nature open before
him, and can set forth with the wife of
his bosom, and the children of his!
love, to seek treasures in the wilder
ness !" p. 37-8.
41 This people have a provoking
soundness of judgment, and rate men
and things according to their net value.
Thev have a straight forward common
sense about them that will set nothing
do'
m
to name or condition; they!
weigh the man against the trappings
of his vanitv ; and if thev fi;.d him
wanting, will leave him to walk on his
way." p. 40. ,
fcThe annals of the human race pre
sent us with no name more dear, at
once to humanity and liberty, than that
of Penn. He united every great and.
every gentle virtue. His intrepidity
withstood the frowns of power ; his
christian philosophy was superior to
the lures of Ambition ; and while his
fortitude resisted persecution, his can
dour and gentle benevolence never
sentenced the opinions of others. His
religion was without dogmatism, his
virtue without austerity ; he was tole
rant among bigots, inflexible before
tyrants, patient with the factious, hu
mane towards the criminal, fair and
just with the savage as with the civil
ized man. Proud indeed may the re
public be which had such a man for its
founder, and whose history has so gen
erally done honor to his name ; and
justly venerable, justly entitled to the
respect and love of mankind is the fra
ternity of which that man was a mcm-
one may almost say the founder,
and which has followed' up his deeds
of mercy by others not ler.s beautiful,
tempering the rigors of justice to the
offender, relieving the sick and the
destitute, and even the criminal in the
prison house ; teaching virtue to the
profligate, practising humanity to the
hard-hearted, cherishing the uncon
scious lunatic, bearing with his impa
tience, soothing his despair, and calm
ing his frenzy." p. 50. -
ON SYMPATHY.
mOM THE CIIAKLESTOX CITV GAZETTE.
Wc have always thought that such wri
ter:;, on metaphysical morality, is Kcrhe
faucault and Pope (or Bolingbrokc, if our
readers will have it so ; as Pope's Kssay
on Man has been said by critics to be only
a version of a work wiitten for him by the
hand of St. John, his great patron,) have
done more harm than good to the cause
of morality and virtue. By identifying
the best social affections of the human
heart, and the most exalted acts ol be
nevolence, with the passion of self-love,
which is the strongest and most ungovern
able which pervades the soul of man ;
every magnanimous action of our lives,
and every generous and tender sympathy
which warms our bosoms, tat tne signt 01
that wretchedness which we have not the
power to remove, or even to alleviate,)
will be traced to the sordid principle of
self-gratification.
Even the great Burke himself has (in
our humble opinion) fallen into the same
unhappy error ; for he describes the pas
sion of sympathy as flowing: directly from
the source of self-love. lie supposes it
to be that rapid current, the streams of
which are supplied from the copious foun
tain of self-interest and personal gratihca
tion : But, it onlv requires any one who
has ever felt the independent influence of
the passion of sympathy, in a high degree,
fund all men have experienced more or
less of it) to ask his own heart, or to judge
from his own sensations, whether the pas
sion of sympathy is the subject of reason
ing, reflection, or calculation, in which
self-interest, or personal gratification, can
in any manner participate. No ; it is the
pure uncontrolled, spontaneous, and heav
enly emanation of D'dty, infused into our
souls, without any reflection of the human
mind, without any co-operation of human
judgment or reasoning. It is the twin
sister of Messed charity and love.
What wc have said of the practical
effects of this divine passion is in its pro
moting the welfare and augmenting the
happiness of our fellow man ; but let any
one, who is disposed to satisfy himself
that self-love enters not into its composi
tion, only look into the most ordinary and
uninteresting occurrences of human life;
things to him totally indifferent, such as a
match between two gladiators, a game of
tennis, or a rac .:tvcen two coursers,
and ask himself it his predilections and
sympathies be not in favour of the one side
or the other, without having any interest
in the subject, or without any previous
knowledge to excite such interest.
The truth, wc think, is, that man him
self does not know with certainty the true
fountain from which those generous emo
tions flow ; he feels their influence, and
they are not only spontaneous and invol
untary, but are even irresistible. Wc
will here close these brief remarks by the
following beautiful lines, from Dr. Dar
win's Ttmile of Nature. Speaking of the
passion of sympathy, he says
"The seraph Sympathy from heav'n descends,
And bright o'er Karth his beamy forehead bends.
On man's cold heart celestial ardor flings,
And show'rs affection from his sparkling wings ;
Lifts the clos'd latch of pale Misfortune's door,
Opc's the clench'd hand of av'ricc to the poor,
Unlocks the prisons, liberates their slaves,
And sheds his sorrow o'er the untimely graves."
FROM A VIRGINIA FATKR.
Effects of Flannel worn in contact ivith
the Shin,
dear sir Having been frequently
questioned on the propriety of wear
ing flannel next the skin, and, as I have
always esteemed it a highly injurious
habit, carried to the extent it is at the
present time, I think it my duty, for the
benefit of inquirers, and as many
others as it may concern, to make pub
lic my opinion, and my reason therefor.
From persons of debilitated habit,
having been relieved of disease by
wearing flannel next their skin more
especially aflfections of the lungs, the
practice has been adopted not only as
a remedy for, but it is without restric
tion, advised as a preventive of such
complaints ; and it is even advised to
those in perfect health, and frequently
adopted by them, I suppose, to render
them more healthy.
Flannel worn in contact with the
skin is, undoubtedly, a highly advan
tageous remedy in many winter diseas
es, more especially catarrh and rheu
matism ; and I have no doubt but that
persons of a consumptive constitution,
have had their lives prolonged by wear
ing flannel, through the whole of the
cold seasons of the year.
But such persons have, for some
years past, been much in the habit of
abusing this remedy, by continuing the
application of it throughout the year.
Emaciated, as they may be, they suffer
themselves to be still more reduced, by
an excessive and constant perspiration,
induced and kept up by the heat and
friction of flannel in addition to the
heat of summer.
In the winter of 1813, whilst I was a
student of medicine, being considerably
alarmed at a cold I bad contracted of unu
sual severity and duration, I was induced
to resort to the use of a waistcoat and
drawers of flannel, from which 1 derived
considerable advantage. At the com
mencement of the ensuing summer, being
somew hat apprchenshc of a breast com
plaint, in consequence of the severity of
my winter's attack, I was induced to be
lieve, in conformity with the generally re
ceived opinion, that it was necessary to
continue the use of the flannel through
the summer, for the more complete res
toration of the health. In the course of
a few weeks tbe waistcoat became so in
tolerable that I threw it off, but continu
ed my drawers. In a few more weeks I
perceived tbe skin, that was in contact
with flannel, had a less healthy appear
ance than that of the rest of my body,
and the muscles were softer ; these ap
pearances continuing to increase, I in a
short time threw them aside. More cl-
factually to convince myself, whether tins
rcally were the effect of the flannel, in
the summer of 18U, after examining
both my arms, and having them examin
ed by some of my fellow students, their
appearance being the same, I drew a flan
nel sleeve over one of them next to the
skin, and wore it six weeks, in the months
of July and August : on withdrawing the
sleeve, the difference in the appearance
of the two arms was remarkable tbe
clastic than those of the other arm, which
was in every respect, of a healthy appear-
ancc. On removing the flannel, the ilesh
in a few days recovered its natural appear-
ance.
The result of the above experiment,
gives only a miniature view of the emaci
ating effect of flannel, worn in contact
with the whole body ; for in this case, be
sides the primary efl'cct it bus on the skin
itself, and the superficial muscles, it has
a secondary effect on the itals; especial
lv on tbe stomach and lungs by sympathy.
The sympathy existing between the skin
and those parts, is evinced by the effect
produced on them from various applica
tions made to tbe skin. Tobacco leaves,
for example, applied to the skin, aflcct
tbe stomach so much as to produce vomit
ing, and to stop obstinate vomiting, lauda
num and other anodynes are frequently
applied to the skin over the region of the
stomach, with the happiest effect. To
prove a sympathy between the skin and
lungs, (if such a thing is questioned) we
need only to refer to tbe effects of flannel,
which being worn next to the skin, will
generally, in the course of twenty-four
hours, loosen phlegm, in the lungs, and
break a cough.f II a remedy has the
power to effect such a change as this in
the lungs, it must, if long continued, v.ith
out intermission, have the effect gradual-
ly to deteriorate, and at last, to destroy,
the natural actions of the part, unless the
constitution opposed to it, be unusually
robust.
I am firmly of opinion, that the in
creased number of deaths from consump
tion, that we perceive in the lists of mor
tdity, is owing in a great measure, if not
principally, to the abuse of the remedy
in question.
From the lists of mortality in seaport
towns, wc perceive, upon an average, that
about , one third of the deaths are from
consumptions ; and a greater number to
the south than to the north. In former
times, the converse of this has been al
ways remarked. Flannel as a remedy,
has been in use about twenty years ; and
its good effects in winter, have encouraged
its abuse in summer
Almost any constitution may be ruined,
from the constant and ill judged use of
medicines, taken inwardly ; and the same
will, almost as certainly, though more
slowly, ensue from the abuse of outward
remedies.
YVM. A. M'DOWELL.
Sincc making the above mentioned observa
tions on my own person, I have frequently had
the opportunity of making similar observations
on the persons of my patients, who were wearing-
flannel in the warm months.
f Many other illustrative physiological facts
could be adduced, but a physiological disserta
tion is foreign to my purpose, v
From an article in a late number of the
Journal of Science, it appears that during
the last summer, in the island of New
foundland, about half a mile from the
shores of Gander Bay, was found an oc
tangular fragment of a small pillar of white
marble, to account fcr which, the antiqua
rians of that island are at " their wits' end."
It is 18 inches in length, and 10 in diam
eter, is much corroded by the influence
of the weather, 'and must, from uppear-
ances, have lain there a long time. As it
is too remote from the shore to be sunno-
sed to have come there by water as bal
last, and as it was found in a part of the j
island uninhabited, and where no similar
stones nor productions of the chisel have
been discovered, it may not be. unreason
able to account for this fragment by the
supposition of an ancient colony settled
'here from oriental nations, where civil
ization and the arts were in a course of
successful progress. Irc-u. Gazette.
Villains arc usually the worst casuists, and rush
into srreater crimes to avoid less. Henry YIIF.
committed murder, to avoid the imputation of
adultery ; and in our times, these who commit
the latter crime attempt to wash off the stain of
seducing the wife, bv slcrmfvinsr their readiness
tosA&c the .'h:sIg:uI
in fl,,mel, was pile, flucci'J, ami papillous, i P-' ol mmu andjml.c.ou rcp.s,
somewhat resembling the skin of a picked whenever ensnaring questions were
rwi. thn muscles were softer, and less ' 1" oposed to him,he testified thecoo.ncss
On the Character and Example of Christ IV,
A-RCHDEACO- PaLET.
In the first place, Christ was abso
lutely innocent: we do not find a sin
gle vice to which he was addicted, ei
ther from the accounts of his own fol
lowers, or as charged upon him by his
enemies : we hear nothing like what is
told of Mahomet, of his wives and
bin fnll
j . TIoro ic f hiou--
j o oc.ate jnd 1 l.to, imo ... tnioa;
vices of his .country. n the next
place, nis wnotc me, mac pan 01 it u.
least, which we are acquainted with,
was employed in doing good, 1:1 sub-
stantial acts of kindness and compas
sion to all who fell in his way, i. e. in
solid virtue. In his youth he set ar-
example of subjection and obedience;
to his parents.
S and soundness of his understanding
j JIatt. xxi. Ar. xxii. 16. xxx 37. By
? avoiding all danger, when he could do
j t consistently with his duty, and rcsc-
lutelv encountering the greatest,
tl . . C
hit hour 71'as come, i. e. when his own
office or the destination of providence
made it necessary, he proved the se
dateness of his courage in opposition
to that which is produced by passion
and enthusiasm. JIatt. xii. 14, 15.
xiv. 12. 13. John iv. 1 3. compared
with lilatt. xv. 17 19. liy his pa
tience and forbearance, when he had
the means of revenge in his power, lie
taught us the proper treatment of cur
enemies. Luxe ix. 54. Matt. xxvi.
53. compared with Luke xxiii. 34. Uy
his withdrawing himself from the pop
ulace, and repelling their attempts to
make him a kinpf, he showed us the
sense we ought to entertain cf popular
clamour and applause, fohnv'i. 15.
By his laying hold of every opportuni
ty to instruct his followers, and taking
?.o much nains to inndrate. his nrecpnts.
,; hfi left us' a ern of industrv and zeal
- V yUr t, 'r,W, 1
in our profession. iy tne liberty lie
j took with the Pharisees and Sadducees,
j the. lawyers and scribes, in exposing
their hvoocrisy, their errors and cor-
ruptions, he taught us fortitude in the
discharge of our duty. Matt, xxiii.
Luke xi. 37 54. He spared neither
the faults of his friends, nor the vices
of his enemies. Bv his indifference
and unconcern about his own accom
modation and appearance, the interest:
of his family and fortune, he condem
ned all worldly mindedness. Matt.
viii. 20. xii. 46- 50. John iv. 34
He was perfectly sober and rational in
his devotions, as witness the Lord's
prayer compared with any of the com
positions of modern enthusiasts. His
admirable discourses before His death
are specimens of inimitable tenderness
and affection towards his followers.
jfohn xiv. xv. xvi. xvii. His quiet
submission to death, though even the
prospect was terrible to him, exhibits
a complete pattern of resignation and
acquiescence in the divine will. foh?i
xxii. 41 44. And to crown all, his
example was practicable and suited to
the condition of human life. He did
not, like Rousseau, call upon mankind
to return back to a state of nature, or
calculate his precepts for such a state.
He did not, with the monk and hermit,
run into the caves and cloisters, or sup
pose men could mak'e themselves more
acceptable to God, by keeping out of
the way of one another. He did not,
with some of the most eminent of the
Stoicks, command his followers to
throw their wealth into the sea, nor
with the eastern Faquirs to inflict upon
themselves any tedious gloomy pen
ances, or extravagant mortifications.
He did not, what is the sure compan
ion of enthusiasm, affect singularity in.
his behavior; he dressed, lis ate, he
conversed like other people ; he accep
ted their invitations, he was a guest ar.
their feasts, frequented their syna
gogues, and went up to Jerusalem, at
a f 1 -w -r- - ,
tneir great lestivai. lie supposed his
disciples to follow some professions, to
be soldiers, tax-gatherers, fishermen ;
to marry wives, pay taxes, submit to
magistrates ; to carry cn their usual
business ; and when they could be spar
ed from his service, to return again to
their respective callings. Upon the
whole, if the account which is given
of Christ, in Scripture, be a just one ;
if there was really such a person, how
could he be an impostor! If there
was no such person, how came the illit
erate Evangelists to hit off such a char
acter, and that without any visible
design of drawing any character at
all !