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the dog. The father of the child appeared : “ I return you sir,', said he to the young man, a thousand thanks ; you have saved the life of my only child.” " Your thanks,” said the young man,
are more justly due to the kind. Providence of the Almighty, which brought me hither." “Accept," said the father, "a thousand rubles, as a reward for your humane exertions.” cuse," said the young man,“ my declining your handsome offer : you are, in fact, much more indebted to the exertions of my dog, than to me." “ Well, then," said the gentleman, “ I will give you a thousand rubles for your dog.” “A quarter of an hour ago," replied the young man,
6 I did not think him worth a thousand rubles ; but now he has saved the life of a human being, I would not take ten thousand for him,"
The young man then rushed into the crowd of spectators, and the enraptured father and mother could not by any inquiry find out who he was.
The emperor Alexander was informed of the affair, and was desirous to discover the young man ; but the search he ordered to be made, although diligently persued, was fruitless.
O admirable youth! what an honour art thou to the name of Russian, or rather what an honour to human nature! Upon this occasion what an assemblage of humanity, piety, delicacy, and disinterestedness, did thy words and actions display! I wish I was acquainted with thy name, that this tributary page might catch a ray of glory from the splendour of its insertion. Much more I wish that I could inscribe the particulars of this action, together with thy name, in indelible characters in the temple of Immortality, for the praise and imitation of future ages.
THALES, ONE OF THE WISE MEN OF GREECE. A sophist wishing to puzzle him with difficult questions, the sage of Miletus replied to them all without the least hesitation, and with the utmost precision.
What is the oldest of all things ? God, because he has always existed.
What is the most beautiful? The world, because it is the work of God.
What is the greatest of all things ? Space, because it contaids all that has been created.
What is the most constant of all things ? Hope, because it still remains with man, after he has lost every thing else.
What is the best of all things ? Virtue, because without it there is nothing good.
What is the quickest of all things ! Thought, because in less than a moment it can fly to the end of the universe.
What is the strongest ? Necessity, which makes men face all the dangers of life.
What is the easiest ? To give advice.
Faith.--Tò rely upon Heaven is to be certain of its protection,
is forever on him who maketh Providence his trust. Virtue.-Beauty is a fading flower. The gaudy tulip delights the eye, and captivates the fancy-But it is the fragrance of the rose which we admire, and all that we can enjoy when its beauty is gone.
Hope.—Though liable to be wounded by its thorns, we still caress the rose for its fragrance ; and so should we nourish hope, though disappointment may now and then occur.
Gratitude.--All the sentiments which spring from gratitude, possess a religious character; they elevate the soul of him who feels them.
Elasticity of mind.-A great mind is so elastic, that it rises under the pressure of the heaviest evils that nature or fortune can lay
Revenge.--He that waits for an opportunity of acting his revenge, watches to do himself a mischief.
Negligence is the rust of the soul, which corrodes through all the resolutions. We need only to sit still, and diseases will arise for want of exercise.
That is a sententious and correct precept of one of our poets
To be secure,
DESCRIPTION OF AN OLD BACHELOR. An old bachelor is a sort of whimsical being, which nature never intended to create, He was formed out of all the odds and ends of what materials were left after the great work was over. Unluckily for him, the finer passions were all made use of in the composition of those creatures intended for social enjoyment.
What remains of the bachelor, is hardly enough to rub down the crusty mould to which he is thrown to avoid waste.--Some seasoning, that he may not be quite insipid, must be constituted, instead of more valuable ingredients ; and so dame nature tosses in self love without weight or measure. A sprinkling of understanding, which is fit for no other use, and which turns to acid from, the sour disposition of the vessel in which it is contained, and the whole composition is finished, with an immoderate portion of oddities. Thus formed, thus finished, a bachelor is popped into the world, mere lumber, without the possibility of being happy himself, or essentially contributing to the happiness of others. His only business is to keep himself quiet: he gets up to lie down and lies down to get up. No tender impression enliven bis awaking; no agreeable reveries disturb his dronish slumbers. If he speaks the language of sensibility, he speaks it on the excellency of some favorite dish, or on the choice liquors in which bis cellar abounds. On such subjects, he feels the rapture of a lover. The peace of a bachelor is sober, and he will hardly mend it to get out of a storm, although that storm were to threaten a deluge ; but show him a woman who is entitled to the compliments of his hat, and he will shuffle on as though he was walking for a wager.
His house-keeper or his laundress he can talk to without reserve ; but any other of the sex that is above an useful dependant, is his ter
A coffee-house is his sanctum sanctorum against bright eyes and dazzling complexions. Here he lounges out half his days. At home he sits down to have unsocial meals, and when his pallate is pleased, he has no other passion to gratify. . Such is a bachelor ---such the life of a bachelor. What becomes of him after death, I am not casuist enough to determine.
The wife of a noble Venetian, having witnessed the death of her only son, gave herself up to the most violent grief. A priest endeavoured to console her: “ Recollect,” said he, “ the case of Abraham, whom God commanded to plunge his knife into the bosom of his only son, and he was ready to obey without a murmur." 56 Ah ! my good friend," she replied, “ God gave this command to a father-he would not have required such a sacrifice from a mother."
A certain deacon having had the misfortune to lose his wife, attempted, immediately afterwards, to strike up a match with his maid, whose name was Patience. The parson of the parish coming in, a short time after, to console the bereaved husband, told him he must have patience to support him in his troubles. Ah, says the deacon, “I have been trying her, but she seems to be rather off.”
One of the Chinese emperors was so great a favourite with his people, that they bestowed on him the glorious appellation of The father and mother of his people.'
A MAN OF FAMILY.
Of what family can you boast of being descended ?” said a castillian generilla to an English grenadier. 6 I am descended from Don Pedro Nunez Velasques de Pedrillo, who was chief trumpeter the emperor Charles V. at the battle of Pavia.”
16 I cannot pretend,” said the grenadier, looking very archly at the don, “ to trace my pedigree so far back as you do ; but this l aver, that my parents made more noise in the world than your boasted ancestor don Pedro, the great trumpeter ; for my father was a drummer, and my mother cried oysters."
Wise men say nothing in dangerous times. The lion called the sheep, to ask her if his breath was unpleasant : she said Ay ; and he bit off her head for a fool. He called the wolf, and asked him : he said No; he tore him in pieces for a flatterer. At last he called the fox and asked: him “ Truly,” said the fox, “I have caught a cold, and cannot smell."
A humpback of Toulouse met a man, who had but one eye, very early in the morning. 66 Good morrow, friend,” said the oneeyed man "you have got your load upon your shoulders
very “ It is so early," replied the humpback, “ that I see you have only one window open.”
Lord Chesterfield complained very much at an inn where he dined, that the plates and dishes were very dirty. The waiter, with a degree of pertness, observed, that every one must eat a peck of dirt before he dies. “ That may be true,” said lord Chesterfield ; “ but no one is obliged to eat it all at a meal."
HYMENIAL AND OBITUARY. MARRIED.]-In this town, Mr. Thomas L. Norton, to Miss Catharine Chandler ; Mr. John Kepp, to Mrs. Polly Allen ; In Newburyyort, Capt. Alexander Livingston, to Miss Abigail Knapp : James Prince, Esq. to Mrs. Mary Hale. In Newbury, Mr. Thomas Moody, to Mrs Sarah Bray. In Marblehead, Mr. Isaiah Putnam, of Salem, to Miss Mary Lindsey. In Randolph, Mr. Timothy Dormon, to Miss Sally Spear. In Portland, Mr. Ammi R. Mitchell, to Miss Nancy Jones. In Springfield, Mr. Lyman Cutler, to vi iss Lavinia Moore, In Kittery, (N.H) Mr. Samuel Badger, jr. to Miss Apphia M. Fernald ; Mr. Noah Manson, to Miss Catharine Fernald. In Elliot, Mr. David Libby, to Miss Betsey Hanscom ; Capt. Mason W. Merrill, of Somersworth, to Miss Dorothy Rogers. In Greenfield, Mr. Sylvester Allen, to Miss Harriot Ripley,
DIED.)-In this town, Miss Sophia Hill, aged 30; Mr. Stephen Deblois, jr, aged 24. In Medford, Miss Sarah Walker, aged 5!. In Newburyport, Mrs. Judith Lovell, wife of Capt. Ezra L. In Greenfield, Messrs. Briggs and Wilder, drowned. In Sandwich, Mr. Ebenezer Crocker, aged 25. In Porte land, Mr. Joseph Baker, aged 38; Mrs. Nancy Starrett, aged 58. In Seabrook, (N.H.) Mrs. Blanche Fogg wife of Mr. Ebenezer F. In Hampton, (N.H.) Mr. Samuel Coolbroth, of Barrington. He was hoeing corn in a field, apparently in good health, and was instantaneously taken with vomiting blood, and in fifteen minutes was a corpse. Oliver Page, son of Mr. Samuel S. P. aged 7.
O HAPPY shades! to me unblest,
Friendly to peace, but not to me ; How ill the scene that offers rest,
And heart that cannot rest, agree ! This glassy stream, that spreading pine,
Those alders quiv’ring to the breeze, Might sooth a soul less hurt than mine,
And please, if any thing could please. But fix'd unalterable care
Foregoes not what she feels within ; Shews the same sadness ev'ry where,
And slights the season and the scene. For all that pleas’d in wood or lawn,
While peace possess'd these silent bow'rs, Her animating smile withdrawn,
Has lost its beauties and its pow'rs. The saint or moralist should tread
This moss-grown alley, musing slow ;
But not, like me, to nourish wo.
Alike admonish not to roam :
TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW. TO day man's dress'd in gold and silver bright, Wrapp'd in a shroud before to-morrow night; To-day he's feeding on delicious food, Tomorrow dead, unable to do good: To-day he's nice, and scorns to feed on crumbs, To-morrow he's himself a dish for worms; To-day he's honour'd, and in vast esteem, Tomorrow not a beggar values him ; To-day he rises from the velvet bed, To-morrow lies in one that's made of lead ; To-day his house, though large, he thinks but small, To-morrow no command, no house at all ; To-day has forty servants at his gate, To-morrow scorn'd, not one of them will wait! To-day perfum'd as sweet as any rose, To-morrow stinks in every body's nose ; To-day he's grand, majestic, all delight, Ghastful and pale before to-morrow night : True, as the scripture says, “ man's life's a span," * The present moment is the life of man.