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ir D'&'TJ&'jC*
mmi
la the summer of IKOO, Mr. John
Quincy Adams, then Minister at Ber
lin, made an excursion through Silesia
.tn-1 visited the Giant Mountain, the
highest land in Germany. It was the
custom for travellers, alter they had
visited it, to wiite their names, and
some sentiment, in a hook kept at a
cottage on the, side of the mountain,
and he thus describes his sensations:
“ Sentiments of devotion l have al -
ways found the first to take possession
of the mind, on ascending lofty moun
tains. At the summit of the Giant s
head, my first thought was turned to
the Supreme Creator, who gave exis
tence to all that immensity of objects
that expanded before iny view. Ihe
transition from this idea, to that of my
own relation, as an immortal soul,
with the Author of Nature, was Natu
ral and immediate: from this to Ihe
recollection of my native country,
iny parents and friends, there was but
a single and a sudden step. On return
ing to the hut, where we had lodged,
I wrote the following lines in the
book.”
From Imitls, beyond (lie vast Atlantic ti<lc,
Celestial freedom's most belov il abode,.
Panting, 1 climb'd the mountain's craggy side,
And viewed (lie wondrous works of Na
ture's Cod.
Where yonder summit, peering to the skies,
Beholds the earth beneath it w ith disdain,
O’er all the regions round 1 cast my exes,
And anxious sought iny nat/vt Iwme—hi
vain.
Vs to that native home, which till infolds
Those youthful friendships, to ray soul so
dear,
you, ray parents, in its bosom hold ;
My fancy'flew, l felt the start ing tear.
Then, in the rustling of the morning wind,
M< thought I heard a spirit whisper fair;
Pilgrim forbear, still upward raise thy mind,
“ Look to the skies, thy native home is there.”
—uOro—
COLUMBI \.
Hi/ the late Eduard Chapman, Esq.
Columbia’s shores arc wild and wide,
Columbia's hills are high,
And rudelj planted side by side,
Her fore: Is meet the eye;
But narrow mot those snores be made,
And low Columbia's hill*,
And lo'v Imt ancient forests laid.
E’er freedom leaves her fields:
For, tis (lie land where, rude and wild,
She play’d her gambols when a child.
And deep nd wide our streams that flow
Impetuous to the tide,
And thick and green the laurels grow
On cv’ry river’s side ;
But, should a transatlantic host
Pollute our waters fair,
We’ll meet them on the rocky coast,
And gather laurels there :
Foi O! Columbia’s sons are brave,
Andfreeas ocean’s wildest wave.
‘I he gales that wave otir mountain pines,
Are fragrant ami serene,
And never clearer sun did shine
Than lights ourvallies green ;
But fetid must those breezes blow,
That sun must set in gore,
E’er footstep of a foreign foe
Imprint Columbia’s shore
For 0! her sons arc brave and tree,
Their breasts beat high w till liberty.
For arming boldest Cuiratsieur
We’ve mines of sterling worth,
For sword andbucklcr, spur and spear,
F.inbowel’d in the earth ;
But e’er Columbia’s sons resign
The boon their lathers won,
The polish'd ore from ev'ry mine
isliall glitter in the sun:
For bright the blade mid sharp the spear
That freedom’s sons to battle bear.
Let Britain boast the deeds siie’s done,
Display her trophies bright,
And count her laurel? bravely won
In well-contested light.—
Colombia can array a band
\\ ill wrest that laurel wrv •
\A ith truer ex e and steadu I ~:d
Will strike thr blow of death :
For, w hetlier on the land or sea,
Columbia's fight is victory.
Let France in blood through Europe wade,
And in her frantic mood
In civil discord draw the Hade,
And ‘-pill her children's blood.—
Too dear that skill in tirin’ is bon lit
M here kindred l’te-blood flows;
Columbia s sons are only tangbt
To triumph o'er their foes ;
And then to comfort, soothe, and save
The feelings of the conquer'd brave.
‘t hen let Columbia's Cagle soar
And bear in r banner high,
The thunder from In r dexter pour
And lightning from her eye ;
And w hen she sees, from realms above,
The storm of war i- s|>ent,
Descending, like the welcome dove,
’the Olive branch present:
And then shall liemity’s hand divine
‘I lie never fading wreath entwine.
< .1 ...ssccHivnav.
essaa on walking.
V> alking may be defined, a con
test ior precedence between two
feet, while, as is usual in most con
tests, a third party reaps die ad
vantage. Now ]. propose not to
consider the gait of any other an
imal but man. The rest of the
creation may walk, crawl, fly, hop
swim, and jump, according to
then different fancies, but let the
biped take care how he walks, lest
he come under my critical obser
vation. Neither shall I pretend
to enumerate the good effects oi
walking on the health of the body,
but merely describe the appearance
of mankind while exercising their
ambulatory faculties ; as for those
who lose the use of their legs, for
the sake lolling in their carriages,
or like sonic of the eastern nations,
find sufficient delight in a squatting
posture, I leave them entirely out
of the question. The pedestrian
of whatever rank or description is
the object of my present atten
tion.
It is well knowm that the physi
ognomists derive much assistance
in developing a man’s character
from observing his gestures and
attitudes, but as I can boast no
great proficiency in that art, 1 must j
consider myself in the light of an
humble observer, collecting mat
ter for the benefit of my readers,
who are at liberty to consider
themselves as very acute physiog
nomists.
The first mode of walking which
shall merit our attention, is the 1
Swagger. The swaggerer may be j
known by the reeling motion of his j
body, like an inverted pendulum,!
and the large extent of ground he
measures at each step : his pro
gress is accelerated by the swing
of his arms, which lie employs
like a pair of oars. If accustomed
to carv a stick, he becomes a dan
gerous animal by frequently an
noying his neighbours shins, and
then knocking a child on the head.
N. 15. This is an excellent walk to
conceal the effects of the bottle.
The reverse of this is the Cat-
Step , for an exemplification of
which, let any one look at a French
fuseur, on his visits to his custom
ers, or dancing master pacing it
along ; or a juggler walking on
eggs, or one of those beings who
are always very busy about noth
ing, and troubled with the fidgets.
The Strut or Spanish walk, l'o
perform this, the body must be
kept erect, while the foot is brought
forward with a majestic air. Peo
ple suddenly made rich, and new
made Aldermen, take a great deal
of pains in learning to “Walk
Spanish.” This mode of walking
is much practised by some gradu
ates in our village. It is not cal
culated for men of business, so I
may as well budge onto meet the
Wadler . His exertions to car
ry the enormous paunch before
him, gives him that motion which
entitles him to the class : but as
his chief happiness appears the in
creasing this load, we shall leave
him at a turtle feast.
Ihe Graceful Step. Conforma
ble to nature and without affection.
This would be the largest class if
every person had his choice on
which to be arranged. Politeness
will not suffer us to place the fe
male sex in any but this, for “ Grace
was in all her steps,” as Milton
says, and he must not be contra
dicted by ORSON.
From the Edinburgh Review.
Literature formerly was a sweet
Hermitress, w ho fed on the pure breath
of fame, in silence ami in solitude ;
far from the madding strife, in sylvan
shade or cloistered hall, she trimmed
her lamp, or turned her hour-glass,
pale with studious care, and (liming
only to ‘ make the age to come her
own !’ She gave her life to the per
fecting some darling work and bequea
thed it, dying,to posterity ! Vain hope,
perhaps; but the hope itself was frui
tion—calm, serene, blissful, unearthly’!
Modern literature, on the contrary is
a gay Coquette, fluttering, fickle, vain ;
foil owed by a train offlutterers ; besie
ged by a crowd of pretenders ; court
ed, she courts again ; receives, deli
cious praise, and dispenses it; is impa
tient for applause ; pants for the breath
ot popularity ; renounces eternal fame
for a newspaper puff; trifles with all
sorts of arts and sciences ; coquettes
with fifty accomplishments—mille,ur
rrntus habet, viille decenter ; is the sub
ject of polite conversation ; the darling
of private parties ; the go-between in
in politics; the directress of fashion ;
the polisher of manners; and, like her
winged prototype in Spenser,
“ YW’ this, now that, she tasteth
tenderly
glitters, flutters, buzzes, spawns, dies
—and is forgotten ! But this very va
riety and superficial polish shew the
extent ami height to which knowledge
has been accumulated, and the general
interest taken in letters.
To dig to (lie bottom of a subject,
through so many, generations of au
ihors, is now impossible : the concrete
mass is too voluminous and vast to be
contained in any single head ; and
therefore we must have esseac eg and
• imples as substitutes ior it. NV c
have collected a superabundance ol
raw materials : the grand desideratum
now is to fashion, and render tlieirij
portable. Knowledge is no longer j
confined to the few : the object, there-1
fore is, to make it accessible and at.-;
tractive to the many. The Jtloua- j
chism of literature i.-> at an end ; (he
cells of learning a-e thrown open, and
let in the light of universal dav. e
must yield to tiiespirit of cliaugc (whe
ther for the better or worse ;) and “ to
beguile the time, look like the time.”
A modern author may (without mucli
imputation of his wisdom) declare tor
a short life, ami a merrv one. Me may
be a little gay, thoughtless, and dissi
pated. Literary immortality is now
let on short leases, and he must be con
tented to succeed by rotation. A scho
lar of the olden time had resources,
had consolations to support him under
many privations and disadvantages. —
A light (that light which penetrates
the most clouded skies) cheered him
in his lonely cell, in the most obscure
retirement: and, with the eye of laith,
he should sec the meanness of his garb
exchanged for the wings ol the Shining |
|lines, and the wedding-garment of the
! Spouse. Again, he lived only in the
contemplation of old books and old
I events; and the remote and future be
came habitually present tohis imagina
tion, like the past. He was removed
from low, petty vanity, by the nature
of his studies, and could wait patient
ly for his reward till after death. NV e
exist in the bustle of the world, and
cannot escape from the notice of our
contemporaries. We must please to
live, and therefore should live to
please. We must look to the publick
for support. Instead of solemn testi
monies from the learned, we require
the smiles of the fail and the polite.—
If P rinces scowl upon us, the broad
1 shining face of the people may turn to
us with a favorable aspect. Is not
this life (too) sweet r Would we
change it for the former, if we could r
Isut the great point is, that we. cannot J
Therefore, let Reviews flourish—let
: Magazines increase and multiply—let
the Daily and Weekly Newspapers
live for ever. We are optimists in lit
erature, and hold, with certain limita
j tions, that, in this respect w hatever i,
is light!
From (iriscom's “ Year in Europe:’
.1 AMES MONTGOMI,KY.
His person is rather beneath the
middle size, his countenance open,
and he has an elevation of forehead,
and a fullness and tenderness of
eye, which my imagination could
not but regard as an appropriate
seat of that pathos of religious feel
ing, which spreads through his po
etry, its most attractive and endear
ing quality.
His maimers are gentle and ami
able, and his style of conversation
is animated, seasoned with play
ful wit y and a great readiness in
giving his thoughts the clothing of
perspicuous and appropriate lan
guage. Montgomery is about for
ty seven years of age. He has ne
ver been married. His father was
a Moravian Preacher, who, as well
as his mother, died in the West-
Indies, while on a missionary jour
ney among the poor ignorant blacks.
James was educated at a school kept
under the direction of that sincere
and pious sect, in Yorkshire ; where
during ten years of has early life,
be remained secluded from the
world, and where he doubtless re
ceived those convictions of the
truth ofithe Christian revelation,
which have diffused over his poe
tic inspirations, their moral tender
ness and sublimity.
He is Editor of the Sheffield Itis,
a paper which,though it is ranked
with those in the opposition, main
tains, in reality,a character quite in
dependent of a settled hostility to
the government, or of the control
of party.
Scraps from IPs ton/. —ln the for
mer part of the reignof Henry VIII.
there did not grow in England cab
bage, carrot, turnip, or other edi
ble root; and it has been noted
that even Queen Catharine herself
could not command a sallad for
dinner until the King brought over
a gardner from the Netherlands.
About thesame time, the artichoke,
the apricot, and the damask rose,
made their first appearance in Eng
land. ‘Turkeys, carps, and hops,
were first known there in the year
1524. The current shrub Was
brought from the Island of Zante,
anno. 1553, and in the year 1540
cherry trees from Flanders were
first planted in Kent. It was in the
year 1563 that knives we/e first
made in England. Pocket watch
es were brought there from Ger
many! anno. 1577. About the year
IJBO coaches were introduced ; •
before which time Queen Elizabeth,
on public occasions, rode behind
her chambermaid. A saw-mill
was erected near London, anno.
1633, but afterwards, demolished,
that it might not deprive the ; and st
ing poor of emlpovtnent. Dow ci ude
w r as the science ol politics, even in
that late age !
From the Cayt-V ar Recorder.
INTOLERANCE.
The recent attempts to deprive
the Jews of citizenship, recalls to
our recollection the worst times of
ancient bigotry. Among nations,
indeed, where v iolence is a custom
and oppression a maxim, we should
not be so much surprised at any
deviation from the most manifest ,
rules of right and justice. But in
a country like ours, abounding with
Institutions favorable to the indis
criminate liberty of conscience, and
blessed with a Constitution which,
both in the letter and spirit guaran
tees to every individual such liber
ty, we cannot but be surprised at
such consummate audacity. Ne
buchadnezzar, King of Babylon,
when he set up his golden image
in the plain of Dura, and comman
ded, among the rest of his subjects,
the three children of Israel to wor
ship it, committed but a trifling er
ror, compared to the mad lolly of
the christians of the present day.—
The former was governed by an
imaginary sense of right—the lat
ter influenced by bigotry and hy
pocrisy. This persecution is said
to be in retaliation for the crucifix
ion of our Saviour by the Jews :
what a ridiculous pretext, what
blasphemous jargon—as if God
cannot be the avenger of his own
cause, without the aid of half wit
ted demagogues, who thus profane
his name to advance their interests
in a political election. Professors
of Religion, before they raise the
arm of persecution or revenge,
should remember this expression :
“vengeance is mine, I will repay,
saith the Lord.” They should ra
ther pray that the time would spee
dily come when there shall be one
fold and one shepherd—and not like
fiends, “ gnash on them with their
teeth.”
If any thing can be calculated to
astonish us, it must he the persecu
tion oi the Jews by the Christians,
in these enlightened days. It can
not be otherwise than that these
pretended zealots are guilty of the
worst of c rimes—that of of using the
altat of their God as a steping stone
to gratify their personal ambition.
If they have read the Scriptures
they will find that the cup of sorrow
j has been filled to the Jew s, and that
He who scattered them abroad will
shortly restore them their inherit
ance. It is remembered that they
are the ancient covenant people of
God, who will lie neither to Jew or
Gentile ?
In a political point of view such
proceedings are equally absurd.—
There is nothing in the religion of
a Jew to prevent the discharge, ho
norably and faithfully, of the du
ties ot any office or station. There
can be no foundation for a charge
of a defective moral constitution,in
them, any more titan in a Christian,
inasmuch as they possess all the
advantages of natural and revealed
religion ; nor would any experience
justify such an assertion. With us
they are remarkably industrious and
enterprising people, whose exer
tions contribute, in no small degree
to the wealth of the nation. They
are swayed by the motives, and go
verned by the same principles, as
other men ; and are as benevolent
and friendly to Christians, as Chris
tians are to one another. There
can be no objection, then, to their
enjoving every right and privilege,
and every opportunity of promotion
to honor, except the appalling name
of Jetv. Our faith would be in a
miserable plight, if this were consi
dered as an accusation of a crime ;
lor our Saviour was a Jew, as well
as the ancient lathers, whose names
we revere, and whose writings we
venerate. The authois of this re
volting and disgusting system,
scarcely deserve our charity—they
sin against the most apparent light,
and treat the most essential and sa
cred privileges with scorn and con*
tunicly. Now that the genius and
science of our country, as one ex
presses it, has a men like the sun
irom the ocean and tinged the heav
ens with its glory—now is r.o time
for the tolerance of such dark and
gloomy shades in our horizon.—
One universal spirit of indignation
—one universal fee.iug o [,,
intent —should chive th e
less beings iron; the face of ■
lar favor : and crush, forever 1
hope of future political
ment. There is nothing a ,
such men would stop—\j lev ,
assume
“■ The eye of saintly f|.. x
“ And make lira-', not'sweet 'Ttui.li.Hi
“ Y si II ol bioo.l.
But we trust the patriotic ,
intelligence of our countrymen!
prevent any effectual results
the recent attempts—that
press in the country will raise •
voice against such monstrous ‘!”
pou isy and presumption; and ft
every enlightened citizen wilt
his influence towards the
ion of so much daring. The f
stain should not be suffered t o i.
main a moment on our annals t
should be swept from them with
the besom of indignation. |p t ’
shall the true light and spiritof our
republican maxims shine more “!
and our nation enjoy her glory. n.
polluted.
Mrs. K—— n,said to her hushar
that if she died, rather than toliv
single, he would marry, though ■
were to the Devil’s daughter! AT
my clear,” said he, “ I should t
chose to marry tw ice in the tsr
family.”
A dandy seeing a newly arrim
Irishman passing, as he was walkinj
up Main street, a few days since
out, “ Arrah Pdt, what’s o'clock b?
your red stockings r” “ Juststrikd
one;”said paddy, at. the same the
flooring the exquisite with his sliiUj,
lain
Literary Curiosity. —Now an<l theatrem
with Ailin’ curious ietters. The followir.- i-ti,
literal cojiy ol ii ratter sent to a medicil m
tleman. not Car from Blackburn in Lancaosfei
Englund.
“ Cer,Yole oblige me us yole \m
tin ce me I hevaßad cowl am Hi!
in my Bowhills, and lost my Hr
py Tight.”
DEATH.
There is at least one great
casion in the life of every man.
There is one decisive act that trie
the spirit, and puts the cJestinieso
the soul at issue. Neither th
sceptic’s wavering confidence, nc
the duellist’s blind temerity, be
fits this dread solemnity. Th
wretch that thrusts himself und
ed for into his Maker's presena
and the wretch who being called ii
dares, without preparation, as
without concern to enter it, desert
alike our reprobation. The on
resembles the maniack, who leap
the precipice ; the other, these
who staggers off it, regardless o
its height, and unmindful of a
shock that awaits his fall.—Fra
such spectacles of self destruction
the mind turns away with minglei
emotions of pity and horror
liow unlike the good man’s death
Here there is real majesty. No
thing below exceeds, nothingepali
it. To see a human being crowded
to the verge of life, and stands?
on that line that connects and di
vides eternity, and time, excites l
solemn interest. But, 0! “- a ;
words can express the grandtier oi
the death scene, when the indivta
ual about to make the dread expe
riment, sensible of bis condition,
and with heaven and hell, ard
judgement, and eternity, fc” 11
view, is calm, collected,
and relying on the merits
Saviour, and the faithfulness 0
his God, is eager to depart! b
haps the sainted Stephen, n™
heaven beaming from his counted
ance, as shrinking underjthe En
sure of his enemies; he raises *
dying eyes to glory, saying,“f- 0
Jesus, receive my spirit.” ft l ” 3 '’
the Israclitish prophet,
his consecrated mantle on l' lS r!
pi 1, as he mounts the whirl' ,lD
from the bank of the Jordant
perhaps Saul ofTarshish,
ing in the prospect of the T 5.
martydom, “ I am ready t 0
offered up; I have fought inC £
fight; 1 have kept the
there is henceforth laid up y-
a crown of rigteousness,
righteous Lord will
and nor tome only, but to ad t-'-
that love his appearing
“ Mow our heurts burhwitliiii
YY lienee tills brave hound oei la ll ' 1
man !
llis Lodsupports fiim in his find t |oU f‘
IDs final hour brings ;'lor> to his
V* e <aze, we w f“V| mixed tears ol P 1 1”
Yinfew rnent strikes; devot'oii him*’
Ulirislifuis admi;e, and iniidels bein'’
l'o imitate the best is the b
imitation; and a resolution
cel, is an excellent icsolutio 0.
