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 !