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printed at Boston in 1810; but added, | noon, his Lordship confirmed a very great that be should "prefer to have the present number of those, of both sexes, who being version in possession of his people, rather employed in the cotton-factories during the than to have them remain entirely igno-week, are unable to attend on any other rast of the sacred scriptures."

Speaking of the Methodists, and their zeal in distributing books of piety, these travellers say. "This energetic Society sends out an immense quantity of these books. We found them almost every where. In the possession of the obscurest famties we often found a number of voJumes. There had been sent into the

Illinois territory, as we were informed by a respectable Methodist gentleman, seventeen hundred dollars' worth of their books. These were designed to supply the wes tern part of that territory; and the avails of the sales, as we understood, were to be laid out in furnishing more books. In the interior of the Mississippi territory, Mr.

Smith found three or four boxes of these same books deposited at oue house for sale. If this society bestows a propor. tionate attention on the other territories and states, the amount of books sent annually into the western country must be very great. It puts to the blush all the other

charitable Institutions in the United States." National Schools.

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day. The town was excessively crowded.

The Bishop of Chester, while confirming the boys, was particularly struck with the tattered garments and half-famished appearance of one of them, the son of a poor weaver, and charitably slipped a sum of money into the poor lad's hand.

Bristol Irish Education Society. This Society has commenced its opera tious by the establishment of schools in Bristol, for the instruction of the labour. ing class of Irish in their native tongue. The surplus of its funds, after the accomplishment of this object, is intended to be applied to the promotion of education in Ireland," upon the same principle.

Employment of the Poor.

Mr. Owen of Lanark, now at Aix-laChapelle, has addressed a memorial in three languages to the governments of Europe and America, on the subject of Political Economy, and the Agricultural employment of the poor: but as we last year entered so fully into his plan, and to a certain extent recommend the experi ment, we do not think it necessary to repeat it. As to the question whether the poor can be employed to the best advantage separately or in communities, our opinion is that both ought to be tried, and experience will probably shew that in different circumstances both are best.

On Mr. Owen's return it is understood that be means to make an attempt to realize his plan in England; and having viewed the educational establishment of Mr. Eellenberg in Switzerland, and the new institution for employing the poor in Holland (of both which we have lately given the out ine) we hope he will be enabled to improve his plan by blending with his own the wisdom and experience of other practical philanthropists.

The Right Rev. Dr. Law, Bishop of Chester, preached in the Collegiate Church, Manchester, on the 27th of Sep tember last, when a collection was made in aid of the funds for supporting the National Schools in this town, founded on the plan of Dr. Bell, and inculcating the principies of the Established Church. HIS Lordship delivered a most impressive dis course from Job xxviii. 28, and made a forcible appeal to his hearers, in behalf of the charity whose particular cause he was advocating; strenuously enforcing his arguments by numerous instances of the beneficial effects resulting from the training up of the rising generation in the prin ciples of the Church of England. Other religious sects, his Lordship admitted, were laudably exerting themselves in the same praise-worthy manner; but if the meed of superior excellence was to be awarded to any of these institutions, he felt no hesitation in declaring that it belonged to those which, while they instilled in the youthful minds their duties to God and their neigh-industrious husbandmen, with spots of land bour at the same time instructed them in the principles and practice of the Protestant faith (established by the wisdom of our ancestors, as the predominant religion of We are glad also that among the great this highly favoured kingdom. The church, landholders, there are some disposed to though a very large one, was excessively encourage this spirit of industry and indecrowded, and a liberal collection was pendence. In the reports of "The Somade, amounting to £115. In the after-ciety for Bettering the Condition of the

At the same time we are happy to learn that there is, in embryo, an Association forming upon a liberal and extensive plan, for the restoration of that useful class in Society, the English Yeomanry, or small farmers, and for furnishing the poor, but

at present uncultivated, for the exercise of their industry, with the addition of a cow, a pig, &c. to support their families.

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Poor," will be found several instauces,
with the happy success which has attended
them; and in the last Monthly Mag. (p.
208,) is a proposal of Cincinnatus to divide
800 acres of land into 20 small farms for
this purpose. Several similar propositions
we have lately heard of, and hope soon
to lay before our readers some importaut
information on this subject.

Poetry.

THE INVITATION.—TO LORENZO.
Clothed in a splendid garb of green and gold,
Her blue eyes beaming beautiful and bright,
Radiant and rich, and lovely to behold,

Majestic Summer mounts her throne of light.
Exulting Nature hails the auspicious sight,
And all her tuneful tribes their homage pay-

Even cheerful looks the mountain's barren height,
And every valley, pranked with flowrets gay,
Breathes exquisite perfumes that zephyr waits away.
O come, my friend-where yonder crystal stream
Meanders cool beneath the willow shade,
Now let us saunter-shun the sultry beam,

And court the breeze that flutters through the glade.
From every bough, with mingled serenade,
The feather'd choir regale the listening ear,
And buzzing insects ply their busy trade,
Collecting timely store for future cheer,

When chilling storms again shall blast the drooping.year.
And see! the blooming hawthorn to her bower
Up yonder verdant slope, our visit woos,
When down the west bright day's departing power,
Paints every passing cloud with brilliant hues;
Opening still varied and delightful views,
To charm the curious eye, on every side-
'Tis summer's invitation to the Muse,
While Nature spreads her sumptuous table wide,
And o'er the sweet repast bids lovely Eve preside.
Can'st thou the rapture such a scene inspire

Suppress in silence? no! thy speaking eye
Tells me thou can'st not, ere the nascent fires
Of feeling from thy lip permit reply.
Then seize the lyre, and wake its melody
In concert with the warblers all around,

And chaunt the beauties of earth, air, and sky,
Till echo, starting from her sleep profound,
Catch the ecstatic notes, and rock and cave resound.
July, 1818.
HAFIZ.

The watch-dog bay'd; the patient steer drew nigh-
There was a calm petition in his eye;
Unsocial birds forsook the wild woods far,
And perch'd and flutter'd at the lattice bar,-
Nought breath'd untroubled

Hark! the ruffian squalls

Rock to their base those bastion-cirel'd walls,
Whose towery crown, by time or siege unbow'd,
Frowns on the deep, and stays the passing cloud,
How baleful dark! tho' brief an hour be goue
Since, thro' the bright-edged rack that hurried on,
The moon look'd out unsullied; while i gazed,
Athwart her path the vivid meteor blazed,
And, as that herald of the brooding gale
Wing'd noises on, her crescent brow wax'd pale:
She heard the rebel deep disown her sway,
And, like offended beauty, turn'd away.
Then swoop'd the winds which hurt the giant oak
From Snowdon's altitude;--the thunder broke
In deep, percussive peals-so near, that earth
-hook as it threaten'd a volcano's birth:
And, while the angled lightning quiver'd by
(Like types of a celestial tongue) the eye
Recoil'd within itself-oppress'd and awed-

As tho' it was the written wrath of God
Gleam on the black and cloud leaf'd book of Night,
In letters of unutterable light!

it seems as Ocean, weary of repose,
With all his storms, in bold rebellion rose,
To bow that flag, obey' where'er it veers,
Which braved their fary for a thousand years!
Yet, Ocean! thou hast been our friend -tho', thus
Convulsed with rage, the eye grows tremulous
that gazed on thee; as might one, whose skill
Had brought by spells some spirit to his will,
Start-each deep wish indulged-to find it turn
in wrath upon himself, and fiercely spurn

he bondage it had book'd. Thy mighty arm
Was stretch'd between us and the locust-swarm
That made all earth an Egypt ! our ally
When none beside was our's-and Destiny
Had doom'd us Ishmael's lot, opposing thus
Our hand to all, and every band to us!
And thou hast borne us thro'-triumphant borne-
The sun of glory spotless and unshorn!
those days of strife, tho' not their memory, cease,
And all, but only thou, repose in peace:
Alas! ere ebbs this barrier trampling tide,
The throb of many a temple shall subside;
And beating hearts, which sicken at thy roar,
Be hush'd to rest, and palpitate no more!
Now faint, and far, comes on the wail of death-
Heard as the tempest seems to pause for breath;
And now the sheeted levin glares apon

A peopled deck, that idly hopes to shun
Those ambush'd banks o'er which the breakers rave-
A crash-a shriek-the ocean is their grave!
Would that one victim might appease the blast!
Oh no, the cry of death is deepening fast;
And minute-guns, above the surging swell,
Boom on the gale the Pilot's passing. bell!

SKETCH TAKEN FROM DOVER CASTLE And there be some to whom this morning's sun

DURING A STORM.

THE COMING ON OF THE STORM.

Three score and ten I can remember well,
Within the volume of which time I've seen
Hours dreadful, and things strange; but this sore night
Hath trifled former knowings.-Macbeth.

Whose flag has braved, a thousand years,
The battle and the breeze.-Campbell.
The sun was down in splendour-as he went
A crimson glory streak'd the occident,
Lingering like hope: and clouds were floating, bright
As ruby islands in a sea of light:

Awhile they wore all hues-then wavering, weak,
Waned like the blush that warms the virgin's cheek,
Till all was lost: then Twilight drew her hood,
Dropp'd with pale stars; and scowling darkness stood,
Like a dim spectre on the eastern hill,
Vestured in clouds, and lingering there until

His hour bad come. then sobbing gusts plain'd by-
The vex'd wave flung his silver crest on high,
The sea-guil shriek'd on rapid-wheeling wing,
The steed prick'd up his ear, as hearkening

To far, far sounds-neigh'd, started, toss'd his head,
Then, bounding off, gazed fierce and spirited;

Reveal'd the cliffs their thoughts had dweit upon
Through exiled years; and bade, all peril past,
The warm heart hail its native hills at last-
As fair to-morrow's sun those hilts may greet,
But then the surf shall be their winding-sheet!
And there be others struggling with the spite
Of warring elements, whose souls were bright
To mark, at evening's close, the little space
Which but delay'd affection's bland embrace;
And now they roll'd the aching eye ball round,
And meet but death-the dying and the drown'd:
Yet fond, fair arms shall yield the clasp they sought-
Yea, wildly clasp,-but they shall heed it not!

ON THE DEATH OF A BEAUTIFUL BOY,
BY J, W. LAKE.

I saw thee, sweet Boy, in the blush of thy youth
Like a flower in its loveliness blowing,
All bright in the beaming and beauty of truth,
And thine eye in its innocence glowing,

I saw thee-nor thought in the hue of that wreath
Which the rose and the lily had wove,

On thy fair budding cheek the foul mildew of death
Would blight the fond promise of love.

I lov'd thee sweet Boy, for in thee were enshrin'd
What my youth and my promise had known,
Ere Ingratitude rose, like the dark desart wind,
Ere Misery made me her own.

Then peace to thy spirit, as spotless and sweet
As this tear of sincerity given;

Then peace to thy spirit, again we shall meet,
Sweet Boy, in yon beautiful Heaven.
Aug. 1818.

FROM THE WELCH.

The grave of a beautiful warrior, by whose hand Fell many a combatant,

Ere he became silent, Beneath this stone, Llachan, the son of Rhun, Is in the vale of Cain.

FROM THE SAME.

To whom belongs the square grave,
With the four stately stones at its corners?
It is the tomb of Madoc-The Fierce Knight.

FROM THE SAME.

He whose grave is on this cliff,
His hand was the foe of many;
His name shall sleep in peace.
Mercy be to him!

TO AN AUTUMNAL LEAF. "That Autumn leaf is sear and dead," And soon will seek its wint'ry bed; Yet many a lesson can supply, To Fancy's ever-watchful eye.

It once was green, and fair, and young,
Heaven's brightest beam on is was flung;
With many a friend that round it grew,
It danc'd in every breeze that blew.

But now old age has stolen on,
Its youthful beauty all is gone;
And now it dreads the Zephyr's play,
Which only bears its friends away.

And trembling on its parent stem,
It scarce can bear the dewy gein;
Its former strength and vigour past,
It meets each moment as its last.
The brightest sun may shed its ray,
The fairest moon upon it play,
The balmy air may pass it o'er,
But never-cau its life restore.
Its lot was this, to bloom awhile,
And give to Nature's face one smile.
The voice of Heaven, in Autumn calls,
Thy part is done-and see-it falls.
'Tis thus with man-youth yields to age,
And sad reflections fill the page;
Of former times, of hopes now fled,
Of early friends and vigour dead.
Thus like the leaf he dwindles on,
But he is cheer'd for what is gone;
For when he seeks his wint'ry bed,
'Tis but the body that is dead.

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Written on the Banks of the Ouse, in Huntingdon shire.

When not a breath hath heav'd thy gentle breast,
How oft I've sought thee at the break of day,
Ere lazy man would spurn his downy rest,
Or linnet rise to chant her morning lay,
To catch the first glance of Phœbns' golden ray
Shot lightly o'er thy mead's empurpled vest,
And mark how, whi e it drank morn's misty, grey
'Twould wake the hum of life from east to west:
And oh! 'twas sweet to read this title page of day.
Pleas'd have I trol thy softly swelling hills,
Where yellow Ceres and sweet Flora meet,
Throwing betwixt thy tributary rills

Rich floods of living gems and golden wheat;

And eke thy plains, where noisily do beat
The dusty clappers of thy busy mills,
To muse me where some broadly dashing sheet
The gauzy cloud of humid mist distills:
But ah, I traverse now Augusta's crowded street.
Oft have I sported on thy level side;

Where the fleet racer shoots across the green;
Oft have I laved me in thy grassy tide

In boyhood's days, all spotless and serene,
Or, buoyant, scndded up thy banks between:
But ah, those days are gone, and I must chide,
For memory will betray that I have been

Where tow'ring Hinchingbrook's old gothic pride
Peeps thro' the wood, and smiles o'er all the scene.
Oft have I, hid in bedge or leafy nook,

Sat by thee, shaded from noon's parching gleam, To watch the patient angler with his hook,

Dancing and eddying down the purple stream, Beguile the simple roach;-or skim the cream, Delightful task! of some poetic book,

Where useful lore and pleasant fancies beam,

When all around me seem'd as 'twere but shook From Heav'n for mortal weal! all life a pleasant dream.

At eve I muse me oft and deeply, Ouse,

How pleas'd I've rambled by the side of thee, When weary labour quits the glitt'ring dews That gem the dark green carpet of the lea, Listening the shepherd whistling angrily

His lazy sheep that cunningly would lose Themselves behind or spreading bosh or tree

That fringe thy verdant banks, delightful Ouse, Lotb, loth to leave thy peaceful haunts, like me! Oh! and I've rambled up thy banks at night, When man was mute, and clos'd was every door, To see, beneath the moon-beam's misty light, The little boat go gliding up the shore;To hear the music of the splashing oar;Perchance some flute, as sweet as Stephens quite, Whose silver notes did flote along before,

Trilling with melody the meadows bright:

But ah, those nights are gone! I will not muse them

more.

Farewell, sweet Onse!-thy image may I keep

For ever. O, Fancy, let me, when my brain Doth gamble on my pillow, let me leap

Again in Ouse's bosom! and again

Broil on his banks with pleasure's giggling train
In boyish frisk! Farewell! oh, I could weep
To think thou hast no turn, life's sullen lane,
To point ns back, for aye, for youth's sweet, sweet
days again.
WALTER.

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. Air-" Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled."

Before the sun had drank the dew,
The marching columns glanc'd in view,
And on the plains of Waterloo,
The cry was-" Death or Victory!"
The bugle rang its war-note bigh,
The battle thander rends the sky;
And onward to the charge they fly;
And rank to rank clos'd rapidly.
In dread array the warriors meet
And high their hearts for glory beat;
The redden'd soil beneath their fee
Has mark'd the battle's boundary.
O! few shall hail the evening horn
Who heard its sound at dawn of morn;
And widow'd mothers long shall mourn
The soldiers' timeless destiny!

Their Country's tears shall dew the grave
Where valonr sleeps; and o'er the brave
Proud Freedom shall her bauper wave,
To consecrate their memory!

The stranger oft, with anxious tread,
Shall visit where the hero bled,
And o'er the British soldiers' bed
Shall rouse the deeds of chivalry.

The cause is won-the warfare o'er,
And bleeding Europe bows no more
Beneath Oppression's galling power,-
A Tyrant's lawless dynasty.

Aug. 18.

The Gatherer.

No. XXII.

is more thick and viscid. This sap is contained in the true bark (or cortex,) which, when punctured, yields a considerable quantity, so that in a short time a cup-full

"I am but a gatherer, and dealer in other may be collected from a large tree. The

men's stuff."

The Poison Tree.

The Public were never, perhaps, more grossly imposed upon than by Foersch's account of the Poison Tree of Java, which was afterwards dressed up in all the tinsel charms of Darwin's poetry, (to which it was much better suited than to the sobriety of natural history.) and has been lately retailed to us in the public prints. Dr. Horsfield, however, unmasked the falsehood in a paper drawn up by the request of Mr. Raffles, the late Governor, and inserted in the 7th volume of the Transactions of the Batavian Society. Mr. Leschenault de la Tour, a French naturalist, arrived at the same result about the same time-indeed, Dr. Horsfield yields him the priority of the discovery.

It is true, notwithstanding, that there is a poison tree in Java, and other eastern islands, commonly called the Oopas, or Upas. By Rhumphius it is called the Arbor Toxicaria, and otherwise the Anchar (or Antshar) of Java. It is true also, that from the sap of this tree, the natives of the eastern extremity of the island, where it grows, extract a poison for their arrows equal in virulence to any animal poison that is known. The juice, or gum, is, however, innoxious at its extraction, and requires the addition of various heating substances, of the nature of ginger, to give it that fatal activity for which it is so famous.

"The Anchar (says Dr. Horsfield) is one of the largest trees in the forest of Java. The stem is cylindrical, perpendicular, and rises completely naked to the height of 60, 70, or 80 feet, Near the surface of the ground it spreads obliquely, dividing into numerous broad appendages, or wings, much like the canarium commune (the canary tree,) and several other of our large forest trees. It is covered with a whitish bark, slightly bursting in longitudinal fur rows. Near the ground this bark is, in old trees, more than half an inch thick, and upon being wounded, yields plentifully the milky juice, from which the celebrated poison is prepared.

A puncture or incision being made into the tree, the juice or saps appears oozing out, of a yellowish colour (somewhat frothy) from old (trees); paler, or nearly white, from young ones; exposed to the air, its surface becomes brown. The consistence very much resembles milk; it

inner bark (or liber) is of a close fibrous texture, like that of the morus papyrifera, and when separated from the other bark, and cleansed from the adhering particles, resembles a coarse piece of linen. It has been worked into ropes, which are very strong; and the poorer class of people em ploy the inner bark of the younger trees, which is more easily prepared, for the purpose of making a coarse stuff, which they wear in working in the fields. But it requires much bruising, washing, and a long immersion, before it can be used; and, when it appears completely purified, persons wearing this dress, being exposed to rain, are affected with an intolerable itching, which renders their flimsy covering insupportable. It will appear from the account of the manner in which the poison is prepared, that the deleterious quality exists in the gum, a small portion of which still adhering, produces, when exposed to wet, this irritating effect: and it is singular that this property of the prepared bark is known to the Javans in all places where the tree grows, while a preparation of a poison from its juice, which produces a mortal effect when introduced into the body by pointed weapons, is an exclusive art of the inhabitants of the eastern extremity of the island."

Capture of a God.

A golden image of the Hindoo Deity, Ganesha, was part of the booty at the late capture of the fort at Singhur. This idol had been concealed within a column or pillar of masonry, under which it was expected his godship would have remained secure, and would have eluded the search of the conquerors of the fort. Report enhances the value of this idol to several lacs of rupees, and a lac and a half are said to have been already offered for his ransom.

England in the 17th Century.

Count Oxenstiern, who had been three times Ambassador from the Court of Sweden to that of England in the former part of the 17th century, drew the following sketch of this country, which some may think not very far from the truth at the present period.

England without dispute is the queen of isles, the empire and arsenal of Neptune. She is at the same time the Peru of Europe, the kingdom of Bacchus, the school of Epicurus, the academy of Venus, the country of Mars, the abode of Minerva, the support of Holland, the scourge of France, the purgatory of partisans of op

position, and the paradise of those of liberty. The women are handsome, but their beauty is attended with something very insipid. Bravery there is as it were nainral to the men, but carried to an excess that approaches to savageness. Wit and judgment reign there, and perhaps more than in any other country whatever; but they produce a certain air of pride which considerably diminishes their merit. 'Tis there, one may say, that fortune dis tributes her favours abundantly; but these islanders are ignorant of the use they ought to make of them to strangers, as the courtiers and their taste are the only objects of their liberality. Their language is an odd mixture of almost all the tongues of Europe: but with this advantage, that it expresses itself the best of all of them: in short, is a nation where nothing is wanting to its happiness but to know how to enjoy it. Her natural restlessness and extreme jealousy for liberty and property have often plunged her into civil wars, which have laid her within six inches of her destruction, The three journies I made there having let me into their manneis, I venture to assert that it is the most delightful country in the world for young gentlemen to be amused in, provided they are masters of the language, and able to support the expense; and if the high road to hell be sown with delights and pleasure, you must necessarily pass through England to go to it."

Robert Ferguson, a Presbyterian Minister, who had plotted against the govern ment, fled from justice to the city of Edinburgh, when perceiving that he was closely pursued, and that the gates were shut to prevent his escape, he had recourse to a device which men of less cunning would have considered as the certain means of destruction. Instead of secreting himself iu a cellar or garret, and putting coufidence in strangers he went to the town prison, where he knew an old acquaintance was confined, and there he remained concealed till the search being over and curiosity at an end, he was enabled to go quietly about his business. The same mau, after the unfortunate and melancholy affair in which the Duke of Moumouth perished, with whom he acted as secretary, had a still more narrow escape. Ferguson knew that a proclamation was issued out agaiðt him, and his person was so very remarkable, that he could hardly entertain the least hopes of eluding pursuit. Being, however, a man of great presence of mind, he made the best of his way for the coast; but instead of passing bye-roads, or through villages, be entered the largest towns, and put up at the best inns. At one place in Dorsetshire, where his danger was greatest, he found that the principal inn was kept by the mayor, which circumstance made him choose that very house for his quarters. Here he came towards the evening, ordered a handsome supper, to which he invited the company of his landlord and his wife. In the middle of the repast the mayor reCor-ceived a message desiring him to grant a search warrant for the apprehension of oue Ferguson. The Magistrate in consequence being obliged to retire for the discharge of his official duty, made an apology to his guest and at the same time acquainted him with the reason of his absence. On his return the conversation fell upon the subject of the fugitive, and the offences with which he stood charged. Ferguson, who knew that too much ardour in condemning frequently betrays consciousness of guilt, and that an attempt to palliate crime is apt to create suspicion, both which are the errors of little cunning, commended the zeal of the magistrate with that discreet coolness which generally accompanies moderation and honesty, and then deviated imperceptibly to topics best calculated for his own security. The evening passed away pleasantly, and Ferguson lay till pretty late in the morning, when he arose confident enough of his being safe while in that house, but not so sure of getting out of the town to the sea side. In order to obvi. In the reign of James the Second, ate this difficulty he called for brackfast,

Acquisition of Languages.

At a recent meeting of the Shropshire Auxiliary Bible Society, Archdeacon bett, in a speech delivered on that occasion, drew a parallel between Samuel Lee, one of the preachers, and the admirable Chrichton. From the Reverend Gentle man's statement, it appears, that Mr. Lee had merely the education of a village school (where he was born, about six miles from Shrewsbury,) viz. reading, writing, and arithmetic; that he left school at twelve years of age, to learn the trade of a carpenter and builder. While thus em ployed, he became, self-taught, a Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, and Samaritan scholar. These languages he acquired in six years, at the hours during which he was relieved from manual labour. Since that period, Mr. Lee has bad more assistance, and is now, in addition to the tongues we have mentioned, familiar with Arabic and Persian, Hindostanee, French, German, Italian, Ethiopic, Coptic, Malay, Sansent, and Bengalee-in all, seventeen languages in fourteen years.

Confidence.

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