The Mi sr.! whatc'cr the Muse inspires,
Mv soul the tuneful strain admire s....scott.
TO SLEKr.
" "What is more gentle than a win J in summer ?
"What is more soothing than the pretty hummer
That stays one moment in an open flower,
And buzzes cheerily from bow er to bower ?
"What is more tranquil than a musk rose, blowing
In a green island, far from all men's knowing?
More healthful than the leafings of dales?
More secret than a nest of nightingales ?
More serene than CordehVs countenance ?
More full of visions than a high romance ?
What but thee, Sleep !"
A FAVORITE SONG.
Oh ! had ye some bright little isle of our own,
In a blue summer ocean far off and alone ;
"Where a leaf never dies in the jtuT blooming
bowers,
And the bee banquets on thro a whole year of
flow'rs.
Where the sua loves to pause with so fond a
delay,
That the night only draws a thin veil o'er the day,
"Where simply to feel that we breathe, that we
live,
Is worth the best joy that life elsewhere can give.
There, with souls ever ardent and pure as the
clime,
Wc should love, as they lov'd in the first golden
time ;
The glow of the sunshine, the baJm of the air,
"Would steal to our hearts, and mke all summer
there.
"With affection, as free
From decline as the bowers
And with hope, like the Bee,
Living always on flowers;
Our life should resemble a long day of light,
And our death come on holy & calm as the night !
"lAteTJory liixtvacis, &c.
Variety's the very spice of life,
That gives it all its flavor.
FROM THE WISTAW INTELUGESCLR.
"Wc have just obtained a copy of 44 Anecdotes
of the Revolutionary War in America, by Alex
ander Garden of I-ee's Partisan Legion, fee."
lately published in Charleston. For the gratifi
cation of our readers, we make a few short ex
tracts from this volume, convinced that they will
aree with us in pronouncing it one cf the most
interesting works that has issued from the press
for many years. The style is easy and agreea
ble, and throughout the whole, there breathes
mi unusual spirit of patriotism and philanthropy.
Ve offer, with pleasure, our feeble aid in com
mendation of this excellent work, fully convin
ced that, while to all classes of readers it will
prove highly interesting, it will be particularly
useful and instructive to the rising generation ;
fir to use the language of the Author, it can
be only necessary to present to view the char
acters whose achievements he would celebrate,
44 And by their light,
Shall every valiant youth with ardour move,
To do brave acts." Shakspeare.
COLONEL PETER HORRY.'
This officer was a descendant of one
of the many protestant families who
removed to Carolina from France, af
ter the revocation of the edict of Nantz.
lie early took up arms in defence of
his country ; and through all the trials
of peril and privation, experienced by
Marion's brigade, gave ample proof of
his strict integrity and undaunted cour
age. The fame which he acquired, as
one of the band of heroes who defend
ed the post at Sullivan's Island, was
never tarnished. For, although in a
moment of despondency he once said
to his general i4 I fear our happy days
are all gone by it was not the conse
quences that might accrue to himself,
but the miseries apprehended for his
country, that caused the exclamation ;
for never were lils principles shaken ;
never, even for a moment, did the
thought of submission enter his bos
om. No man more eagerly sought
the foe ; none braved danger with great
er intrepidity, or more strenuously en
deavoured to sustain the military rep
utation of his country. A ludicrous
story is told of him, that, though probably-
varied in the narration, has its
foundation in truth. Colonel Horry
was once ordered to wait the approach
of a British detachment in ambuscade ;
a service he performed with such skill,
that he had them completely within his
power ; when, from a dreadful impedi
ment in his speech, by which he was
:micted, he could not articulate the
word "Jire." In vain he made the
attempt it was, Jt fi, f Ji but he
onld get no further. At length, irri-
N 1 1 1 1 1
u utmost to inauness, tie cxeuum-
'-Shoot, damn you shtot you
know very well wluit I would say
Liacr, shoot, and be damn'd to you !"
tie was present in every engagement
of consequence, and on all occasions
increased his reputation. At Quinby,
Colonel Baxter, a gallant soldier, pos
sesses
at crea!
coolness, and still
greater simplicity of character, called
out, 44 1 am wounded, colonel !" Horry
replied u Think no more of it, Bax
ter, but stand to your post." 44 But I
can't stand, colonel 1 am wounded a
second time !" 44 Then lie down, Bax-
ter, but quit no: your post." "Col-
onel," (cried the wounded man,) 44 they !
have shot mc again, and if I remain
any longer here, I shall be shot to pie
ces." 44 Be it so, Baxter, but stir not."
He obeyed'the order, and actually re
ceived a fourth wound before the en
gagement ended.
GENERAL THOMAS PINCKNEY.
at the disastrous battle of Cam
din, while acting as Aid-de-Camp to
Gen. Gates, he was desperately wound
ed and made a prisoner. His patience
and fortitude remained unshaken. Con
veyed into the town, it was night when
he reached Mrs. Claifs house (then by
the fiat of power, converted into a
Hospital.) The family had retired,
and Major Pinckney was placed on a
table in the piazza, where he lay till
morning, suffering under a compound
fracture of both bones of his leg, as
he would not permit the rest of an op
pressed and patriotic female to be dis
turbed. This calm and happy temper
of mind contributed in no small de
gree to the preservation of his life, for
an exfoliation of the broken bones fol
lowing soon after his removal to quar
ters, and no surgical aid at hand, he
was obliged to direct the dressing of
his wound, and to point out to his anx
ious and intrepid wife, the splinters that
occasioned the greatest agony, while
with tenderness she removed them.
The trial was, indeed, a severe one, to
a lady of uncommon sensibility ; but
there is no exertion to which the fe
male heart, under the influence of its
affections, is not equal. The duty per
formed, the fortitude of Mrs. Pinck
ney was no more ? her emotion, on
seeing her husband's sufferings, so to
tally overpowered her, that she faint
ed and fell. The recollection of such
tender and heroic conduct cannot be
lost ; it must ever command the admi
ration of the world, and to her sex,
affords a fascinating example for imi
tation. LI EUTENANT MANNING.
Late Adjutant General o f the JMilitianf t!us State.
Many other proofs could be of the position was sought by a British
adduced of Manning's presence of . force, whose leader, approaching the
mind, and cool intrepidity in action. gate of entrance, exclaimed 44 Rush
It is grateful to me to mention one of on, my brave fellows, they are only
these. At the battle ol" Eutaw, after worthless militia, and have no bayo
the British line had been broken, and nets." Ord immediately placed him
the GUI Buffs, a regiment that had 'self in front of the gate, and as they
boasted of the extraordinary feats that ; attempted to enter, laid six of his en
they were to perform, were running emies, in succession, dead at his feet,
from the field, Manning, in the enthu- crying out at every thrust u No bay
siasm of that valor for which he was onets here none at all to be sure !"
so eminently distinguished, sprang for- following up his strokes with such ra
ward in pursuit, directing the platoon pidity, that the British party could
which he commanded to follow him. make no impression, and were corn
He did not cast an eye behind him un- pelled to retire,
til he found himself near a large brick i JUDGE BUKKE.
house, into which thc York Volunteers,
commanded by Cruger, were retiring.
The British were on all sides of him,
and not an American soldier nearer
than one hundred and fifty or two hun
dred yards. He did not hesitate a mo
ment, but springing at an officer who
was near him, seized him by the col-'
lar, and exclaiming in a harsh tone of
voice 44 Damn you, sir, you arc my
prisoner, wrested his sword irom his
grasp, dragged him by force from the
house, and keeping his body as a shield
of defence from the heavy fire sus
tained from the windows, carried him
oil without receiving any in jury. Man
ning has often related, that at the mo
ment when he expected that his pris
oner would have made an effort for
liberty, he, with great sole?n?iitrj, com
menced an enumeration of his titles
44 I am, sir, Henry Barry, Deputy Ad
jutant General of the British Army,
Captain in the 52d Regiment, Secreta
ry to the Commandant at Charleston."
" Enough, enough, sir," said the vic
tor, 44 you are just thc man I was look
ing for ; fear nothing for your life, you
shall screen mc from danger, and I will
take special care of you. He had re
tired in this manner some distance
from the brick house, when he saw
Captain Robert Joiett, of the Virgin
ia line, engaged in single combat with
a British officer. They had selected
each other for battle a little before, the
American armed with abroad sword,
the Bjiton with a musket and bayonet.
As they,ca"me together, a thrust was
made at Joiett, which he happily par-
jrled, and both dropping their artificial
weapons, being too much in contact to
use them with effect, resorted to those
with which they had been furnished by
nature. They were both men of great
bulk and vigor, and while struggling
each anxious to bring his adversary to
the ground, a grenadier who saw the
contest, ran to the assistance of his
officer, made a longe with his bayonet,
missed Joiett's body, but drove it be
yond the curve into his coat. In at-
tempting to withdraw the entangled
weapon, he threw both the combatants
to the ground; when getting it free,
he raised it deliberately, determined
not to fail again in his purpose, but to
transfix Joiett. It was at this crisis
that Manning approached not near
enough, however, to reach the grena
dier with his arm. In order to gain
time, and to arrest the stroke, he ex
claimed in an angry and authoritative
tone 44 You damn'd brute, will you
murder the gentleman ?" The soldier,
supposing himself addressed by one ol
his. own olficers, suspended the con
templated blow, and looked around to
see the person who had thus spoken to
him. Before he could recover from the
surprise into which he had been thrown,
Manning, now sufficiently near, smote
him with his sword across the eyes,
and felled him to the ground ; while
Joiett disengaged himself from his op
ponent, and snatching up the musket, as
he attempted to raise, laid him dead by
a blow from the butt end of it. Man
ning was of inferior size, but strong
and remarkablv well formed. Joiett,
literally speaking, a giant. This, prob
ably, led Barry, who could not have
wished the particulars of his capture
to be commented on, to reply, when
asked by his brother officers, how he
came to be taken, 4 I was overpower
ed by a huge Virginian.'
SERGEANT OUD.
In every instance where this heroic
soldier was engaged in action,, he not
only increased his own reputation, but
animated those around him by his live
ly courage. In camp, on a march, and
in every situation, he performed all his
duties with cheerfulness and vivacitv,
preserving always the most orderly
conduct, and keeping his arms, accou
trements, and clothing in the neatest
possible condition. He might, indeed,
be considered a perfect Soldier.
At the surprise of Georgetown, be
ing with a small part' of the Legion
Infantry, in possession of an inclcsure,
surrounding a house from which they
' had expelled the enemy, the recovery
it h id been much the fashion,
towards the close of the war, for per
sons wishing to avoid militia service,
to attach themselves as volunteers to
the regular Continental Regiments,
engaging to take the field whenever
called upon ; but it speedily appeared,
that self-indulgence was much more
their real object, than public good. To
! counteract this practice, a Bill was in-
troduced into the Legislature at Jack-
sonboro , to compel every man to serve
in the Militia Regiment in which he
was enrolled. Judge Burke, on this
occasion, after using many arguments
in support of the bill, concluded by
saying 44 1 shall give but one reason
more, Mr. Speaker, against the volun
teer system, and that is a very power
ful one. Your volunteers are a set of
shabby fellows, and I have a good right
to say it, I am a volunteer myself."
Sending a challenge to a person who
had grossly offended him, he thus ex
pressed himself : 41 Sir, I must insist
upon your giving me immediate satis
faction, for having so far imposed on
me, as to make me believe lor a single
moment, that you were a man of hon
our, or a gentleman."
On the day previous to his death,
having been tapped by Dr. Irvine for
a dropsy, he said, 44 well Irvine, what
am I to expect ; is the decree life or
death." 44 Life, my good fellow," said
Irvine. 44 You are an Irishman, and
will yet last a long time.
4.1
Then,
by
said Burke, 41 I shall be the
first thing that ever lasted long in this
house, after beirg once put on tap."
PRIDE.
From ta : Baltimore Federal Republican.
Pride is a necessary and indispensa
ble attribute of dignity. We mean
well regulated and consistent pride.
The dignified, the good and worthy
man, is proud to withstand temptation
his pride is of that kind which does
honor to his Maker, tor he uisuams
and is too proud to be guilty of a mean ;
and unworthy action. His pride con- j
sists in governing himself, for he will j
not submit to the dictation of habit or j
practice. He is too proud to be cold ;
and ungenerous, because his pride
teaches him to be kind and affectionate.
He is too proud to wound the feelings
of others, because he takes pride m j
comforting and soothing them. He
is too proud "to look disdainfully on the
poor, because to relieve them is one ol
his favorite pursuits. He is too proud
to be a hypocrite, because he delights
in candour and sincerity. In short,
he is too proud to mislead the unsus
pecting, for the purpose of furthering bath school. lie was himself respect
seljish views, because he looks upon j able, clean and thriving at peace in his
insincerity with horror and detestation, j own mind, and living peaceably with
How different is the portrait cf the j his neighbors. Such are some of ths
man who is proud without dignity j trophies of Religion shewing herself,
he is as miserable as he is contempt!- j as indeed she is, profitable unto all
blc he is as deficient in the head as things, having promise of the life that
he is cold at heart. He oiten has a j
little money and ioolishly imagines that
filthy lucre will hide the deformities of
both. He has a narrow and contract
ed soul ; he struts about in society with
all the consequential, gravity of a major
domo, but deprive him ot his cash or or
his dependence, and he sinks into ab- benevolence. On his monument thec
ject insignificance and contempt. js recorded a list of the public chari
Here lies the error of society ; men of j ties antj benefactions given and found
cash oftener than mTn of mental worth j et hy him which amount to 70,G95. ;
and -value, arc courted, flattered and out his private donations were not less
coaxed and so far does this longing j tlan his pUblick ones ; he sent at one
after cahh go, that if it is even known ! time joCO to relieve and discharge
that some handle it only as the agents thc debtors in Ludgate, by a private
of others, yet because they handle I , hand . and he yearly freed ' those con
it, they are admired and respected ! uned for small dcb'ls in whitechapei
"Money," says the adage, 44 makes j prison and the Marshalsea; he sent
the mare jto" and money, generally, ! mnn. to relieve tbr- nnnmf WhitP.
is the rale by which a man's respecta
bility is measured.
GOOD ADVICE.
Quit your pillow, and go about your
business, if you have any, is thc first in
junction ; if not seek some. Let the suns
first beams shine on your head in the
moriiing. and you shall not want a good
hat to defend you against its scorching
rays at noon. Earn your breakfast before
you eat it, and the Sheriff shall not de
prive you of your support. Pursue your
calling with diligence, and your creditors
shall not interrupt you. Be temperate,
and the physician shall look in vain for
your name on his day book. If you have
a small farm, or a trade, that will support
your family and add a hundred dollars a
year to your capital, he contented.
"Religions.
THE SETTING SUN.
From a work called " happiness," a tale by thc
author of "No Fiction."
Sav, did ve mark the sun to-dav,
Slow bursting1 through the shadowy cloud,
lie chased the twilight gleam away,
And gilded all his sable shroud ?
And then mc thought he lingering stood,
To gae upon thc world awhile,
And ere he sunk upon the flood,
To blcus it with a parting smile.
So, when the christian's day is past,
' Tis his to chase the twilight gloom,
To shine the brighter at the last,
And shed wild radiance o'er the tomb.
So, when life's well spent journey o'er,
Lies pictured in the approving" breast,
'Tis his the landscape to explore,
And bless the view, and sink to rest.
CtCtCCD
EXTnACT....We do not say that all the actions
even of a religious man, will exemplify the pu
rity of his profession, and illustrate the sublim
ity of his conceptions. Something must be con
ceded to the weakness of humanity, to the force
of conflicting- passions, to the remains of inbred
corruption, to momentary forgetfulness of the
awful presence of God, to occasional deviations
from the narrow path, which, though it is always
the path of safety, is often that of suffering.
But thc blighted or unsound fruit, which may
sometimes be found even on the soundest and
most vigorcus tree, bears but a small proportion
to that which is as healthy as the stock whence
it springs, which adorns its parent stem w ith the
beauty cf its hues, and enriches it with the deli
ciousness of its flavor.
INTERESTING ANECDOTE. -
Extracted from the 5th Report of the Boston
Society for the Moral Instruction of the Poor.
Wheaever Religion has spread her
banners and enrolled her armies, or
der, discipline and efficiency have char
acterised her followers. We need not
go to other countries for proof. Our
own exhibits it. Lcl a single instance
suffice. A man had been a notorious
sabbath-breaker. He was often met,
on that day, ragged and barefoot, ac
companied with one or two of his chil-
ri.. n:
nrpn in i s mi ir i run 11 hiii. li iihiiu'
U & W . t- . WW - - - y
witn a gun or nsnmg poie to ms accus
tomed employment of the" day. His
house was the picture of wretchedness.
After the lapse of a jew years, a
gentleman, then in the town where he
lived, noticed on the sabbath morning
a decent wagon proceeding to chinch
with a well dressed family. He thought
he knew the driver, who appeared to
be the head of the family, and accost
ed him. He had not mistaken. It
was the identical sabbath-breaker and
idler. He had become a religious
man, and his appearance evinced, while
his tongue confessed it. His house
was found to exhibit economy and in
dustry. Its windows, which were
once stuffed with rags, were now gla
zed. His children attended the sab-
noiv is, and that ivhich is to come.
EDWARD COLSTON.
The celebrated Edward Colston,
who was a native of Bristol, Eng.
j an(i died in 1821, devoted his life and
: fortune to the noblest acts of Christian
chapel ; and twice a wreek had a quan
tity of beef and broth dressed to dis
tribute to all the poor around him. If
any sailor suffered or was cast away in
his employment, his family afterwards
found a sure asvlum in him.
IIow solicitous he was of doing
good, and having his charities answer
the design of their institution, appears
from a letter of his to 3Ir. Mason,
Master of the Society cf Merchants
in Bristol, the trustees of his charity.
" Your letter was received by me with
great satisfaction, because it informs
me that the Merchants' Hall have made
choice of so deserving a gentleman for
their master, by whom I cannot in the
least think there will be any neglect in
their affairs ; so neither of want of care
in seeing my trust reposed in them re
ligiously performed ; because, thereon
depends the welfare or ruin of so ma
ny boys who may in time be made use
ful, as well to your city as to the na
tion, by theif future honest endeavors ;
the which that they may be, is what I
principally desire and recommend un
to vou, sir, and the whole society. Ed
ward Colston."
During thc scarcity of 179S, Mr.
Colston, after relieving the wants of
his immediate neighborhood, sent in
a cover to the London Committee,
with only these words, "to relieve thc
wants of the poor in the metropolis,"
and without any signature, the sum of
twenty thousand pounds A donation
almost past belief, but established on
the best authority.
When some friends urged Mr. Cols
ton to marry, he replied, "Every help
less ividoiv is my ivife, and her orphans
my children" What adds greatly to.
his character as a charitable man, is,
that he performed all these works of
beneficence, great and splendid as they
are, in his life-time ; he invested rev
enues for their support in the hands of
trustees ; he lived to see the trusts
justly executed ; and perceived with
his own eyes the good effects of all his
establishments. That his great for
tune might the less embarrass him
with worldly cares, he placed it out
chiefly in government securities ; and
the estates he bought to endow his
hospitals, were chiefly ground rents.
And notwithstanding all these public
legacies, he provided amply for all his
relations and dependents, leaving more
than 100,000. among them.
Lies, by being a long while repeat
ed, and circulated thro' many hands,
acquire so much authority, that at
length they pass for truth without any
farther inquiry: time and repetition
have the very same effect upon nonsense.