-some untoward circumstance shall blast it.-He shall rise early, late take rest, and eat the bread of carefulness, yet some happier man shall rise up, and ever step in before him, and leave him struggling to the end of his life, in the very same place in which he began,

The history of a second, shall in all respects be the contrast to this. He shall come into the world with the most unpromising appearance, shall set forwards without fortune, without friendswithout talents to procure him either the one or the other. Nevertheless, you will see this clouded prospect brighten up insensibly, unaccountably before him; every thing presented in his way shall turn out beyond his expectations in spite of that chain of insurmountable difficulties which first threatened him,-time and chance shall open him a way, -a series of successful occurrences shall lead him by the hand to the summit of honour and fortune, and, in a word, without giving him the pains of thinking, or the credit of projecting, it shall place him in a safe possession of all that ambition could wish for.

:

A SUBJECT FOR COMPASSION. If there is a case under Heaven which calls out aloud for the more immediate exercise of compassion, and which may be looked upon as the compendium of all charity, surely it is this and I am persuaded there would want nothing more to convince the greatest enemy to these kind of charities that it is so, but a bare opportunity of taking a nearer view of some of the more distressful objects of it.

Let him go into the dwellings of the unfortunate, into some mournful cottage, where poverty and affliction reign together. There let him behold the disconsolate widow-sitting-steeped in tears;—thus sorrowing over the infant she knows not how to succour.“ Oh my child! thou art now left exposed to a wide and a vicious world, too full of snares and temptations for thy tender and unpractised age. Perhaps a parent's love may magnify those dangers-but when I consider thou art driven out naked into the midst of them without friends, without fortune, without instruction, my heart bleeds beforehand for the evils which may come upon thee. God in whom we trusted, is witness, so low had his providence placed us, that we never indulged one wish to have made thee rich, virtuous we would have made thee;for thy father, my husband, was a good man, and feared the Lord-and though all the fruits of his care and industry were little enough for our

support, yet he honestly had determined to have spared some portion of it, scanty as it was, to have placed thee safely in the way ol knowledge and instruction.--But alas! he is gone from us, never to return more, and with him are fled the means of doing it ;-For "Behold the creditor has come upon us, to take all that we have.” 'Grief is eloquent, and will not easily be imitated-But let the man who is the least friend to distresses of this nature, conceive some disconsolate widow uttering her complaint even in this manner, and then let him consider, if there is any serrow like THIS sorrow, wherewith the Lord has afflicted her? or whether there can be any charity like that, of taking the child out of the mother's bosom, and rescuing her from these apprehensions? Should a heathen, a stranger to our holy religion and the love it teached, should be, as he journeyed, come to the place where SHE LAY, when he saw, would he not have compassion on her? God forbid a christion should this day want it! or at any time look upon such a distress, and pass by on the other side. Rather let him do, as his Saviour taught him, bind up the wounds, and pour comfort into the heart of one, whom the hand of God has so bruised. Let him practice what it is, with Elijah's transport, to say to the afflicted widow,--Sec, thy son liveth! liveth by my charity. and the bounty of this hour, to all the purposes which make life desirable to be made a good man, and a profitable subject: on one hand, to be trained up to such a sense of his duty, as may secure him an interest in the world to come : and with regard to this world, to be so brought up in it to a love of honest labour and industry, as all his life long to earn and eat his bread with joy and thankfulness,

EXTRACT.

******* "THE night was dark and stormy, when Edgar repaired beneath the window of his Mary, who had promised that night to trust herself to his honour. He sat, torn by contending passions: Fear and hope alternately filled his breast. The clock tolled ONE, and still Mary did not appear.

He was almost lost in thought, when he imagined he heard whispers behind him he started and looked around--all was wrapped in deep gloom, and the lonely owl, mixing her discordant notes with the howling wind, added to the horridness of the night.

Suddenly a light glimmered in the woods. Edgar started --doubting whether to follow the light, or remain and watch for his Mary.

Love prevailed, and he sat breathless with expectation.

The night was unusually gloomy: The moon had just risen above the horizon, and the large black clouds almost continually veiled her face; the wind howled through the forest, and shook off the yellow foliage from the branches. It was a night that would have filled the superstitious with terror and damped the spirits of the brave.

The moon now burst forth with effulgent radiance, and for a moment illumined the forest. Edgar cast his eyes mournfully around, and beheld three grim-featured men at a small distance. He drew his sword and advanced-the ruffians stepped, whistled, and four more approached. Edgar sheathed his sword and drew a pistol; he then leaned against the trunk of an oak: presently a ball came whistling above his head. He fired, unsheathed his sword, ane sprung forward; the banditti had fled, leaving one of their number bleeding on the ground; Edgar stopped to raise him, when a loud shriek burst upon his ear- he looked around and saw Mary in the midst of the banditti! He sprang towards them like a furious lion The robbers drew their swords and attacked him; with one stroke of his faithful blade he lopped the arm of the nearest; the wounded man dropped backward just as another had presented his pistol at Edgar-he received the contents in his brain and sunk lifeless to the ground. The rest, enraged at the death of their partner, surrounded Edgar, but in vain he, nerved by desperation, wielded his sword, and dealt death around. The robbers fled, leaving three of their number, to mark the victor's prowess.

Edgar immediately clasped his Mary in his arms, and flew with her across the forest-he met his faithful servant whom he had left to attend his horses, but, hearing the report of the pistols, was coming to the assistance of his gallant master. They soon came to the horses, and, with his Mary behind him, Edgar galloped away. He soon arrived at his habitation, were a priest waited for him, who immediately tied the nuptial knot and made Edgar happy in the enjoyment of his beautiful bride.""

"Blest by the poor and by the rich admir'd,
Their lives were happy, envied, and desir'd.'

MARRIAGE.

THE scene of marriage was originally laid, not amongst "the thorns and thistles" of the curse, but in the blissful abode of paradise. The first divine benediction was pronounced upon the conjugal union of man and woman: and in no wise is it evincive of the

narrowness of superstition to indulge a religous belief, that virtuous marriage has, generally, in some respect or other, been crowned with the blessings of God, from the time it was first consummated in the Garden of Eden up to the present day.

A well chosen conjugal relation tends to smooth the natural asperities of man, to soften his manners, to sweeten his temper, and to expand his heart. The bachelor thinks of himself; the married man of his family. The former comes to be the more selfish by reason that he has none but self to look after and provide for; the latter the more benevolent for his having a wife and offspring dependent upon the daily kindnesses of his attentions, Having learnt first to shew kindnesses at home, he is the better disposed and qualified to extend the charities of life to those about him in the circle of society. Other things being equal, the single circumstance of his having a family of his own, as it connects him more closely with society, so it renders him a more feeling, a more beneficent, and a more estimable member of it.

BRIEF EXTRACTS.

Let any one consider the round of Life, with the eye of reason and reflection, and observe how much one day is like another, through his whole career. He will then see the folly of being agitated, by the anticipation of the unknown events, concealed in the mist of futurity.

He conducts himself on the principles of Truth and Justice, who knows no man can harm him, under the shadow of excuse, or the plea of retaliation. Let him who would be happy, always conduct himself thus, and he will have nothing to fear from the arrangements of Providence, or the malice of man.

AMUSEMENT.

THIS IS A STRANGE WORLD!

YES, and a strange set of beings inhabit it! indeed I am of opinion the world is not so much to blame as the inhabitants, and was every person strictly to examine his own conduct, I am persuaded, instead of laying the blame on the world, he would say of himself, this is a strange creature! But to attend to the consequences of our own conduct is a task too burdensome; it is much easier to lay all the censure upon the world. The preacher, who by his dullness and inattention to business, has driven all his people from the church, looks around (after he has delivered a sophorick discourse to the empty pews) and sighs out, what a dull congregation, this is a strange world!

Authors, who

"Painful vigils keep, Sleepless themselves, to give their readers sleep,"

when they find their works neglected, and themselves sinking unnoticed into oblivion, quarrel with their readers for the want of taste-"this," say they," is a strange world!" - Farmers, who mix rye with their wheat, pour water into their cider, tie up swingling tow with their flax, and practice twenty other frauds with their produce; when they find it will not sell, lay the blame on the merchant, for endeavouring to keep down the market, this is a strange world! say they, with deep groans, as they return home after having been forced to sell their adulterated produce at half price.

cha

The merchant, who has jockeyed, shaved and bit his customers, until none, but those who are forced by their poverty, will deal with him, when he perceives his honest neighbour taking his best custom from him, exclaims, this is a strange world!—The haughty spark, paying his addresses to a lady of prudence and sensibility, depending upon the wet of his father, and fashionable and f othes, cay thing before them; when s himself neglected, and the affections of the lady placed upon some must us, worthy, poor man, he begins to think all women are fools, and that, this is a strange world!—The parents of the lady, who have always looked upon riches as the one thing needful, and who consider men without wealth as the Mahometans do women, as having no souls, will be ready to tear all the hair off their daughter's head. Here I am ready to cry out myself, what a strange world! The tipler, when he is urged to give a note at the year's end, for the long string of dittos and dittos, and is threatened that unless he does it, the old notes will be put in suit, mutters, this is a strange world!--But I am afraid when he has to pay those notes, he will be sensible that it is not the world that is so much to blame; he will then find out that he is a strange creature, and not that only, but that he is a miserable poor creature.

HYMENEAL AND OBITUARY.

SHARRIED.] In this town, Mr. Stephen Dyer, to Mrs. Candace Caldwell; Mr. John Weiss, to Miss Mary H. Galloope; Mr. William Hopping, to Miss Martha M'Ferguson: Mr. William White, Esq. to Miss Lydia A. Gordon. In Charlestown, Mr. Abel Adams, to Miss Abby Larkin. In Hingham, Mr. Edward Thaxter, to Miss Susan J. Thaxter. In Plymouth, Mr. Thomas J. Lobdell, to Miss Hannah Sturtevant. In Woburn, Mr. Jesse Wyman, to Miss Nancy W. Carter. In Taunton, Dr. James H. Hanley, to Miss Hope.

DIED.] In this town, Mr. Joseph Hitchings, aged 75; Elizabeth Coleman, daughter of Capt. James Freeman, aged 17 months; Elizabeth, youngest child of Mr. John Snowdon, aged 21 months; Mrs. Martha B. Vincent, aged 30; Mr. David Thoreau, aged 21; Mrs. Rachel Cross, aged 57; Mr. Stephen Hall, aged 72. In Chelsea, Lydia, only daughter of Mr. Abner Gay, aged 19 months. In Charlestown, Franklin, youngest child of Mr. William Reed, aged 2 years and 3 months. In Roxbury, Nabby, youngest daughter of Mr. Solomon Jones, aged 4 years. In Dorchester, Mrs. Mary Clap, aged 57. In Cambridge, Sarah White Hedge, aged 14; widow Hannah Howe, aged 90. In Newton, Mr. George Hastings, aged 25. In Salem, Miss Sophia Young, aged 24.