The .VlrsE ! whatcVr thy Muse inspires,
Mvso il the tuneful str Ju admire....scoxrr.
FROM THE riVr.RfOOL KALFIUOSCOPE.
.7 DIALOGUE OF SIMILES.
HE.
Iikc the moon is woman's heart,
Still with borrowed lustre shining';
Like the ivy, woman's art,
Where it fastens, undermining".
Like a rock, you may defy
Truth to shake or reason move her ;
Like the rainbow in the sky,
Shining1 when the storm is over.
she.
Woman's love is like a rock,
Firm it stands, though storms surround it ;
Like the ivy on the oak,
fn its ruin clinging round it ,
Like the moon dispelling night,
Woman's smile illumines sorrow ;
Like the rainbow, pledge of light,
Harbinger of joy to-morrow.
HE.
Like a picture, where you find
Truth and reason's fair resemblance ;
So deceitful woman's mind,
Mocks us with a mimic semblance.
SHE.
' Like a picture truly fine,
Half her beauty distance covers ;
Touches of a hand divine
Every nearer view discovers.
HE.
Like the roses of the brake,
Thorns in ev'ry blossom shrouded ;
Like the bosom of the lake,
By every passing shadow clouded.
SHE.
Like the roses of the brake,
Precious, though their bloom has faded ;
Like the bosom of the lake,
Pure itself, by otJters shaded.
HE.
Shrinking from the wint'ry blast,
Bird of passage, like the swallow ;
When the summer season's past,
Woman's love will quickly follow.
SHE.
Like the swallow, while she's seen,
Pleasure's blossoms never wither;
Herald of a sky serene,
Woman brings the summer with her.
HE.
Like the reckless mountain tide,
Every rock the current changing ;
Like the bird that must be tied,
If you would prevent its ranging.
SHE.
Like the streim upon the hill,
Unconfin'd it runs the purer ;
As the bird, a cage would kill,
E.ut kindness wins, and love secures her.
HE.
Like the sun dispersing light,
On the fool and wise in common ;
L'ndistinguishingly bright,
Is the smile of faithless woman.
SHE.
Like the sun, dispersing light,
Life and joy to all that's human ;
Ever fixed, and warm, and bright,
is the smile of faithful woman !
Variety's the very spice of life,
That gives it all its flavor.
fnO?I THE SEW (LONDON) MONTHLY MACiZINE.
The Raid of Chillcchrist.
Bordering clans, like surrounding
nations, were never upon terms of
hereditary concord. Vicinity produ
ces rivalry, and rivalry produces war :
for this reason the Mac Donnells and
the Mac Kenzies were never long with
out some act of hostility or feud ; fir
ing hojjses, driving herds, raising rents,
and slaughtering each others clansmen,
were fe'ats of recreation which each
was equally willing to exercise upon
his neighbour ; and if either was more
deficient than the other, it was more
from want of opportunity, than lack
of good will. Among all the exploits
which were thus occasioned between
the t. wo .clans, none was more cele
brated, nor more fearful, than the
burning of -the Chillechrist (Christ's
Church ;) it gave occasion and name
o tjie r.ibroch of the Glencarrie fami
ly, and was provoked and performed
in the followingmanner. In the course
of -a long succession of fierce and san
guinary conflicts, the Mac Lclarss, a
race who were followeis of the Mac
Kenzies, took occasion to intercept,
and assassinate the eldest son of Don
ald Mac Angus of Glencarrie. Don
rJd died shortly after, and his second
son, who succeeded to the chieftaincv
of the cran, was too young to under
take the conduct of any enterprise to
rev.enge the death of his brother: his
cousin, however, Angus Mac Rao
nuill of I.undi, acted as his captain,
and gathering the Mac Donnells, in
two separate raids, swept ofF the rents
from the greater part of Lord Sea
forth's country. Still this revenge
seemed to him too poor an expiation
for the blood of his chief: the warm
life of the best of his foemen was the
only sacrifice which he thought he
could ofTer as an acceptable oblation to
appease the manes of the murdered ;
and he, therefore, projected a third ex
pedition, resolving in this to fill the
measure of vengeance to the brim.
In the prosecution of his design he
awaited a favorable opportunity, and
gathering a small band of men, pene-
trat
K
an
utmprniK: rnnrrrf rr'ltinn WfYP: nSSPTTl- I
bled within its walls. Inexorable in
.V.. WV. V-V..!-. -
i1 nnmns. An, commanded his
r- ' ii- i
men to set nre ic tne uuiiuing, anu
slaughter all who endeavored to break
forth. Struck with despair when the
o ... . . .1
flnmps rushed in uDon the aisle of the
ed into the countrv of the Mac Srca" reiarucu uu ytu.
enzies earlv on a Sunday morning, passing the river , the iAlac Kenzies a
i . ii i (tun jlrpw nnrri nfrer him. nnrl ns thev
d surrounded the umuecnrisi, wnue i . . " I . 7. . J
nnmPrnn, rnnfrraf inn WfTfi 3SSem- Came in Sight Ot L.OCll JNeSS, AhgUS
church, and they beheld the circle of confidence. His limbs would, howev
bare clavmores elancinjr bevond the er, in all probability have failed him
rnnMhnn mrrp bnivinrr
'what thev did, endeavored to force
: their way through the weapons and
the flame's; but, pent within the nar-
row pass of a single arch, thev were
not capable to make way over each oth-
er, far less to break the ring ot broad-
swords which bristled round the porch :
men. women and children, were driv-
t n back into the blazing pile, or hewn
down, and transfixed at the gorge of
the entrance; the flames increased on
everv side: a lieavv column of livid
smoke rolled upwards on the air, and
thf rnir nf infnrirsf ntl mfn. the w.nl- I
ing of sufFering infants, and the shrieks
of despairing women, rung from with
in the dissolving pile. While the
church was burning, the piper of the
Mac Donnells marched round the
buildiur. nlavincr. as was customary
on extraordinary occasions, an extern-
nore piece of music: the pibroch which
he now plaved was called from the
place where it was composed, Chille-
christ, and afterwards became the pi-
broch of the Glencarrie family. At
' .
length the flames poured forth from ev-
ery quarter of the building, the rcof
fell in, there was one mingled yell, one
crash of ruin ; the flame sunk in smoul-
dering vapour, and all was silent. An-
crus had looked on with stern unrelent-
ig determination ; but the deed was
done, recollection now warned him of
he danger of delay ; he immediately
gave orders to retreat, and leading off
us men, set off with the utmost expe
dition for his own country. The
flames of the church had, "however,
ightcd a beacon, the flame of which
)lazed far and wide : the Mac Kenzies
lad gathered in numerous bodies, and
took the chase with such vigor, that
hey came in sight of the Mac Don
nells long before they got to the bor
der of their country. Angus Mac
Raonuill seeing the determination of
the pursuit and the superiority of its
numbers, oidered his men to separate,
and shift each for himself ; they dis
persed accordingly, and made every
one his way to his own home as well
as he could. The commander of the
Mac Kenzies did not scatter his peo
ple, but, intent on securing the leader
of his foemen, held them together on
the track of Angus Mac Raonuill, who,
with a few of his men in his company,
fled towards I,och Ness. Angus al
ways wore a scarlet plush jacket, and
it now served to mark him out to the
knowledge of the pursuers. Perceiv
ing that the whole chase was drawn af
ter himself, he separated his followers
one by one, till at length he was left
alone ; but yet the pursuers turned not
aside upon the track of any other.
When they came near the burn of Alt
Shian, the leader of the Mac Kenzies
had gained so much on the object of
his pursuit, that he had nearly overta
ken him. The river which was before
them runs in this place through a rocky
chasm, or trough, of immense depth,
and cc-isiderable breadth ; Angus knew
that death was behind him, and gather
ing all his strength, he dashed at the
desperate leap, and being a man of sin
gular vigour and activity, succeeded in
clearing it. The lrader of the Mac
Kenzies, reckless of danger in the ar
dour of the pursuit, followed also at
the leap, but, less athletic than his ad
versary, he failed of its length, and
slipping on the side of the crag, held
by the slender branch of a birch tree
which grew above him on the brink.
The Mac Dcnnell, looking back in his
flight to see the success of his pursuer,
beheld Jiim lianging to tbe treeand
struggling to gain the edge of the
bank : he turned, and drawing his dirk,
at one stroke severed the branch which
supported the Mac Kenzie : " I have
left much behind me with you to-day,"
said he; 44 take that also. T. he
wretched man, rolling from rock to
rock, fell headloncr into the stream be
low, where, shattered and mangled by
the fall, he expired in the water. An
gus Mac Raonuill continued his flight,
and the Mac Kenzies, though bereft
of their leader, held on the pursuit.
Checked, however, bvthe stream which
none of them dared to leap, Angus was
gaining fast upon them, when a mus-
quet discharged at him by one ot the
pursuers, wounceunim severe , -uu
I - i , 1 1 1
. . . - . f t
perceiving nis strength to lau witn nis
wound, and his enemies pressing upon
I Viini Apt Fi-minfrl fr .ittpmnt cwimminc
. . i o
the locn ; he rusneu into me water,
Ior s""c U1C' ICU"U.CU u 110
i r ? .. r i 1 i.,
coolness, swam with much vigour and
before he had crossed the half of the
distance to the opposite bank ; but Fra-
ser of Fyars, a particular friend to the
Glencarrie family, seeing a single man
pursued by a party out of the Mac
Kenzies' country, and knowing that
ac ionneus nau gone upon an
expedition in that direction, got out a
boat, and hastening to the aid of An
gus, took him on board, and conveyed
him in safety to the east side of the
loch. The Mac Kenzies, seeing their
toeman nau escapeu, discontinued the
pursuit, and Angus returned at his lei-
SUTC tO ulencamc.
Interesting- anecdote of the celebrated Captain
Smith, the father of Virginia taken from a
small history of the United States, by Grim
shaw. 44 A character so distinguished in
the annals of Virginia ; so marked by
Mature with the bold traits ot spirit
land genius ; arrests the historian's pen i
Pna claims a more than ordinary no
l,ce a uegree 01 auenuon m some
pcasurc proportioned to the transac-
1 f
tions with which he is associated,
" Capt. John Smith, the father of
Virginia, was born ol an ancient iam-
ily in 1GT9, at Willoughby, in Lincoln-
shire, and educated in the schools of
Alford and Louth. His parents, who
died when he was only in his thirteenth
year, left him a small estate, which,
however, through his own want of
economy and the inattention of his
guardians, soon became inadequate to
his support. He then accompanied a
son of the famous Lord Willoughby
into France ; and, after remaining a
short time, returned to his relations,
who gave him a few shillings, out of
his own estate, as a sort of acquittance
from any further demands. lie next
served for some years in the low coun
tries against the Spaniards. Thence,
passing over into Scotland, he remain
ed there a short time among his friends,
but weary of the successive intemper
ance of company in which he had nev
er taken delight, he returned with a
faithful servant into the midst of an
extensive forest, and on the margin of
a little brook, entwined an arbour of
boughs ; in which he lay, with no oth
er bed than leaves, no other covering
except his ordinary dress. His study
consisted in Machiavel's art of war
and Marcus Aurelius ; his exercise, a
good horse with his lance and ring ;
his food, the deer, the rambling inhab
itant of the wood. Satiated at length
by retirement, he allowed himself to
intermingle in society, was again dis
gusted and entered a second time into
the wars against the Spaniards ; but ab
horring a contest in which one Chris
tian was employed in the slaughter of
another, he determined to use his sword
in a cause more congenial with his feel
ings. Accordingly after various misfor
tunes, and extraordinary romantic ad
ventures, he joined the Hungarian ar
my, at that time fighting under the
banners of Austria, against the Turks.
By his ingenious stratagems, he con
tributed highly to his party's success,
and when encamped before the walls
of Regall in Transylvania, he had an
opportunity of distinguishing himself
in a most singular adventure. So much
time had been spent by the Christians
in erecting their batteries, that the
Turks were apprehensive lest their en
emy would depart without making an
assault upon the town, and thereby
prevent them gaining honor in the re-
pulse ; an honor the more -desirable, as j
ladies of exalted, rank were anxious
observers of the siege, and longed, af
ter so much delay, to see 'some court
like pastime.' In that chivalrous age,
when everv soldier fought under the
patronage of a favorite mistress, to re
quest was to insure performance. A
Turkish Noble immediately challeng
ed any Captain of the besieging army
to single combat, 'for each other's
head.' The challenge was readily
accepted. The champion was appoint
ed by lot, and fate selected the intre
pid Smith The combat soon com
menced, and soon the Turk paid the
forfeit of his head : the ladies desir
ed another trial ; and again the un
daunted Smith was rewarded with a
head the request was repeated, and
the issue was the same. Shortly af
terwards he aided in taking the place
by storm and for his former exploits,
which nothing but the manners of the
age can palliate, his name was enrolled
in the heraldic records of Transylva
nia, with the appropriate amorial bear
ing of three Turk's heads."
THE SPV.
A tale of the JVcutral Ground.
From the Franklin Gazette.
We have risen from an attentive pe
rusal of this work with mingled feel
ings of pleasure and admiration. It
is in language, description, locality,
incidents, and persons purely Ameri
can. To read it, without being deep
ly interested in the narrative, and with
out occasional glows of patriotic pride,
is impossible. We have no clue for
even guessing at the author. II is
name, however, should be made pub
lic.
That Washington, a man whom we
have nearly all seen, should be intro
duced into a romance in a manner so
skilfully as to kindle profound anxiety
and interest ; that the county of West
Chester, in New-York, should be trans
formed into the theatre of a vast vari
ety of incidents, complicated but natu
ral, highly wrought yet never improb
able ; that the freshly remembered
struggle for our independence, with
all its concomitant miseries, the devas-
tation of the land, the distraction of
families, the perpetual and universal
dread of treachery and spies, and par
tially marauding warfare connived at
from necessity, should be depicted
with bold and faithful touches ; are lit
erary exploits which entitle the author
of " The Spy to our highest praise.
EDUCATION.
Gocd education is the thing in the
world the most important and desira
ble, but it is of wider scope than most
people imagine.
What is called learning is only a part
of it, and so far from being the most
essential part, it is but the husk. In
vain will you employ your endeavors
to educate your children, unless you
give seed to the heart as well as the
understanding : unless you make their
moral frame the subject of your assid
uous and well directed care ; unless
you take at least as much pains to make
them well principled, and of virtuous
manners,as to make them shine in learn
ing and accomplishments : for intellec
tual improvement, if their morals be
neglected, will tend to render them wise
only to do evil.
If you train up your bov to a strict
regard to truth, honesty and integrity,
and to a deep reverence for all that is
sacred ; if you train him up into habits
of industry, temperance, and love of
order it is then, and then only, that
you can reasonably expect that he will
pass through the perilous crisis before
him uncontaminated, and that his man
hood will be crowned with honor.
EXTRACT.
Some have been so bold as to strike
at the root of all revelation from God,
by asserting, that it is incredible, be
cause the reason which he has bestow
ed on mankind is sufficiently able to
discover all the religious and moral
duties which he requires of them, if
they would but attend to her precepts,
and be guided by her friendly admo
nitions. Mankind have undoubtedly,
at various times, from the remotest
ages, received so much knowledge by
divine communications, and have ever
been so much inclined to impute it all
to their own sufHciency, that it is now
difncult to determine what human rea
son unassisted can effect : But to form
a true judgment on this subject, let us
turn our eyes to those remote regions
of the globe, to which this supernatur
al assistance has never yet extended,
and we shall there see men endued
with sense and reason not inferior to
our own, so far from being capable of
forming systems of religion and mo
rality, that they are at this day totally
unable to make a nail or a hatchet :
from whence we may be surely convin
ced, that reason alone is so far from
being sufficient to offer to mankind a
perfect religion, that it has never yet
been able to lead them to any degree
of culture or civilization whatever.
These have uniformly flowed from that
great fountain of divine communica
tion opened in the east, in the earliest
ages, and thence been gradually diffus
ed ia salubrious streams, throughout
the various regions of the earth. Their
rise and progress, by surveying the
history of the world, may easily be
traced backwards to their source ; and
wherever these have not as yet beerf
able to penetrate, we there find the hu
man species not only void of all true
religious and moral sentiments, but.
not the least emerged from their orig
inal ignorance and barbarity ; which
seems a demonstration, that although
human reason is capable of progres
sion in science, yet the first foundations
must be laid by supernatural instruc
tions : for surely no other probable
cause can be assigned, why one part of
mankind should have made such an
amazing progress in religious, moral,
metaphysical, and philosophical in
quiries ; such wonderful improvements
in policy, legislation, commerce, and
manufactures, while the other part,
formed with the same natural capaci
ties, and divided only by seas and
mountains, should remain, during the
same number of ages, in a state little
superior to brutes, without govern
ment, without laws or letters, and even
without clothes and habitations ; mur
dering each other to satiate their re
venge, and devouring each other to
appease their hunger : I say, no cause
can be assigned for this amazing dif
ference, except that the first have re
ceived information from those divine
communications recorded in the scrip
tures, and the latter have never yet
been favoured with such assistance.
This remarkable contrast seems an un
answerable, though perhaps a new
proof of the necessity of revelation,
and a solid refutation of all arguments
against it, drawn from the sufficiency
of human reason. And as reason in
her natural state is thus incapable of
making any progress in knowledge ;
so when furnished with materials by
supernatural aid, if left to the guidance
of her own wild imaginations, she
falls into more numerous and more
gross errors than her own native ig
norance could ever have suggested.
There ib then no absurdity so extrava
gant, which she is not ready to adopt :
she has persuaded some, that there is
no God ; others, that there can be no
future state : she has taught some, that
there is no difference between vice and
virtue, and that to cut a man's throat
and relieve his necessities are actions
equally meritorious : she has convin
ced many, that they have no free-will,
in opposition to their own experience ;
some, that there can be no such thing as
soul, or spirit, contrary to their own
perceptions ; and others, no such thing
as matter or body, in contradiction to
their senses. By analysing all things
she can shew, that there is nothing in
any thing ; by perpetual sifting she can
reduce all existence to the invisible
dust of scepticism ; and by recurring
to first principles, prove to the satisfac
tion of her followers, that there are no
principles at all. How far such a guide
is to be depended on in the important
concerns of religion, and morals, I
leave to the judgment of every consid
erate man to determine. This is cer
tain, that human reason, in its highst
state of cultivation amongst the phi
losophers of Greece and Rome, was
never able to form a religion compara
ble to Christianity ; nor have all those
sources of moral virtue, such as truth,
beauty, and the fitness of things, which
modern philosophers have endeavour
ed to substitute in its stead, ever been
effectual to produce good men, and
have themselves often been the pro
ductions of some of the worst.
There is but one pursuit in life which it is in
the power of all to follow, and all to attain. It
is subject to no disappointments, since lie that
perseveres, makes every difiiculty an advance
ment, and every contest a victory ; and this is the
fmrsuit of xirtne. Sincerely to aspire after vir
tue, is to gain her, and zealously to labor after
her wages, is to receive them. Those that seek
her early, will find her before it is late ; her re
ward is also with her, and she will come quickly.
For the breast of a good man is a little heaven
commencing on earth ; where the Deitysits en
throned with unrivaled influence, e'erysubju
gated passion, "like the wind and storm, fulfil
ling his word." k
We ask advice, but we mean approbation.