University of South Carolina Libraries
P O E T 11 Y. JUOM \N ENGLISH MAGAZINE. FORGET ME .YOT. You leave me, love, in gldry's cause ; My sorrowing heart mourns o'er my lot ; Go? fly ? obey siern honor's laws ? Be happ)? but forget me not. Like faithful love, to duty true, \ bull be tliy safety unforgot; AikJ, crown'd with victory, may you Be happy ? but forget me not. But peace may bring no joy for me, Should you escape each passing ?hot, A thousand beauties you may sec ; But while they please, forget me not, Yes, you shall please and vanquish too, Conquest and love still be your lot ; That arm, that eye, shall all subdue? Be happy ? but forget me not. VaOM THE BOSTON CENTIN EL* " THE BONNET.** Who's the maid with face so fair, With lily hand and glove upon it ; With modest air, and auburn hair, And the 44 curl" beneath "the Boni?et ?*' With pouting lip, gud rosy cheek, And modest dimple on it; And eye of bluo, that seems to speak . u So kind" beneath 44 the Bonnet f . ; The graceful step_pf fairy foot, With tiny slipper on it; Oh! who^could mark, and thence mute, The charms beneath 44 the Bonnet Where's th t form, and graces too, To swell tl>e song or sonnet ; Where's the 44 look" that is so true As the 44 smile ' beneall) 41 the Bonnet ?" STEPHEN. Miscellan eous. |\1A HUMMED AU PASHA, The celebrated Bey of Egypt. (From Belzoni's Travels.) I was presented to Mahommet All "Bashaw, who received me very civil ly. The Bashaw was just returned from Arabia, where he had conquer ed some of the Watiabv tribes, and delivered Hie holy ^cities of Mecca and Medina from the infidels. < The Bashaw is in coutinual mo tion, being sometimes at ? his citadel, and sometimes at hk seraglio in the Esbakie ; hut Bourbra is his princi pal residence. His chief amuse ment is in th*3 evening a little before sunset, ~w hen he quits his seraglio, ami seats himself on the bank of the Nile, to (ire at an earthen" pot, with his guards. If any of them i^it it, lie makes him a present, occasionally of forty or fifty rubles. He is him self an excellent marksman, for 1 saw him fire at and hit a pot only; fifteen inches high, set on the ground on the opposite shore of the !Nile, though the river at Houbra is cc nsi derably widef than the Thames at Westminster bridge. As soon as it is dark, he retires intoi the garden, and reposes, eifher iu an alcove, or by the margin of ^fountain, on an European chair, with all his attend ants round him. Hftfe his numerous buffoons keep him in coutinual high spirits and good humor. By moon light the scene w as beautiful. 1 was admitted into the garden whenever 1 wished, by which means 1 had an opportunity of observing the domes tic life of a man, who from nothing lose to he Viceroy of Egypt, and conqueror of the most powerful tribes of Arabia. From the number of lights I fre quently saw through the windows of the seraglio, 1 supposed the ladies were at such times amusing them selves in some way or other. Danc ing women are often brought to di vert them, and sometimes the famous Catalani of Eg} pt was iutroduced. One of tlie Buffoons of the Bashaw took it into bis head one day, tor a frolir, to shave bis beard, Which is no trifle among the Tin ks; for some ??f them, i really believe, would sooner have their head cut ofl than luii Lea til : lie borrowed some rmk?, clothes of the Bashaw's npothecary, w l*> was from Europe, and, afier dressing himself m oorj costume, presented himself to the Bashaw as an European, who could not speak a single word of either Turkish or Arabic, which is often the case. Being in ttixr (tnrk, the Bashaw took him for what he repre sented himself to lie. and sent imme diately fur an interpi-eter, who put some questions to him in Italian, ia ?\bich he did not answer ; lie was then questioned in French, hut no reply; and next in the German and Spanish languages, but still be was silent: at last, when he saw that they were all deceived, the Bashaw not excepted, he burst out in a plain Turkish, the only language he was acquainted with, and his well known voice told them who he was ; for such was the chauge of his j>ersoii, particularly by the cutting off his beard, that otherwi&e they could scarcely liave recognised him. The Bashaw was delighted with the fel low ; and, to keep up the frolic, gave him an order on the treaguvy for an enormous sum of money, and sent to the Kacmbay, to present himself as a Frank, to receivc it. ? The Kaciabay started at the immensity, of the ?um, as it was nearly all that the treasury could furnish ; but upon questioning this new European, it wa9 soon perceivcd who be was In this attire lie went home to his wo men, who actually thrust him out of tWe door; and such was the disgrace of cutting off his beard, that even his fellow buffoons would not eat with him till it was grown again. The Bashaw seems to be well a ware of the benefits that may be de rived from his encouraging the arts of Europe in his country, and had already reaped some of the fruils of it. The fabrication of gunpowder, the refining of sugar, the making of fine indigo, and the silk manufacture, are introduced, much to his advant age : he is constantly inquiring after something new, and is delighted with any thing strange to his imagination. Having heard of electricity, he sent to England for two electric machines, i with a plate, the other with a cylin der. The former was broken hy the way >the latter was dismounted. The physician of the Bashaw, an Armenian, did not know, though it was so easy a matter, how to set it up. Happening to be at the garden one evening, when they were at tempting^, and could not succeod, I was requested to put the several pieces together ; and, having^lone so. I made oue of the soldiers -mount on the insulated stool, charged the ma chine, and gave the Turk a good shock; wJio, expecting no such thing, uttered a loud cry, and jumped off, as much terrified as if he had seen tiie devil. The Bashaw laughed at the man's jumping off; upposing his fright to be a trick, and not the ef fect of the machine ; and when told, that it was actually occasioned by the machine, he affirmed positively that it could not be, for the soldier was at such a distance, tJiat it was impossi ble the small chain he held iu his hand could have such power. I then | desired the interpreter to inform his Highness, that if lie would mount the stool himself, he would be con vinced of the fact. He hesitated for ? while whether to believe me or not; however he mounted (he stool. 1 charged well, put the^ chain into his hand, and gave him a pretty smart shock. J!e jumped off, like the soldier, on feeling the effect of i he electricity ; bid immediately threw himself* on the sofa in a fit of laugh ter, not being able to conceive how the machine coulii have such power on the human body. FROM THti HI CUM ONI) (OMI'ICF.H. II A HI) TIMES. It is (lie fastiicui to cry out Hard Times ? an age of cmUirrassmnents ? dh unexampled pressure ? and such like expressions. Let tis see in wliat wnw these 8tiyitt?s me (rue; tor, it is right to see things precisely ns they are. The limes are hard , snvs one, bemuse wheat and corn aie low. The times are very hard , b?vs 1 1 k merchant, because clothes ha*c fal len five dollars in the yard? and no bodv buvs. * r The times are hard , quoth the landlord, because mv rents have ' v fallen from 50 to 73 per cent. They are hard , gays the landhold er, because my land has depreciated 50 per cent. They are peculiarly hardy says the querulous manufacturer, because the British goods are pouring in upon us, and banishing from the markets the products of my looms. My work shops are falling into ruin, and my family going to beggary. , The married man exclaims against the times, because it is so bard to support his family? and the old maid re-echoes tire cry, because the times are too hard u to marry or be given in marriage." _ c Every man and woman has bis or her peculiar cause of complaint, as it was in tire days of Horace, when he asks Moecenas Qui 6t, Mceccnas quam sibi sortem, fcc. Cast your eyes, in fact, wherever you will, awl you see long face*, and catch the accents of lamentation ami despair* The poor are poofter, and the rich ? but where are they? No man will wear the cap? nobody has the repu tation of it, except the adventurer, in the lottery no less worthy than for tunate, who draws the prize of one hundred thousand dollars? But prizes do not come every day, no more than "onefiwftllow makesa summer." The whole country* indeed, seems covered with mourning; and if you judge from the universal complaint, one would think that Ave are going headlong into the gnlf of ruin. But let us take a a iew of things in general ; and ask-? Are we like famished inhabitants of a besieged city? No; bread was never cheaper in the world than it is at this moment. Is tobacco low ?? It is lower than it was three years ago ; but higher than it was some years ago. Are goods'<lear? No; the mer chant's complaint is, they are so cheap, that they can scarcely be Im ported. Domestic goods; too are so cheap, that the manufacturer complains of being starved by the importe&J " Every thing then is low ;-r? we are a^l going to ruin."*? -But pause, my friend, one moment.? If all things have fallen, why complain? If you get less for bread, you give leas for clothing. If all things are brought downuq^rly m the scale of value, (hey are c^dTparatively as valuable as (hey formerly were.? Eggs, vegeta bles, bacon, meats of most sorts, groceries, -clothes, housed most things that we want, have fallen in price, though not exactly in the sajne proportion ; and half a dollar will; now go nearly as far as a dollar would go formerly. " Aye, but there's the rub."?? Every thing may have fallen; but money has risen in valine. "It is because that article lias risen in price (says the unhappy creditor,) that so many complaints are eclioed through Hie country. The debts we owe are to be paid in this appreciate ed stand a id of value. We have to pay the same number of dollars, which we contracted to pay| while the property we hold, though k bears the sameceinparhtive value with other, articles of property,* is worth les* in dollars and cents. It requires there fore, twice or three times the quan tity of jwoperty to pay our debts as it did at the moment of contracting them. This is the cause of my own difficulties, whatever may be the case with others who are not in debt.* And this indeed is the true secret of the embarrassment we hear of,? - It is not, that the cause is a general one, but that it is fashionable to em ploy the language of complainU riiose who are out of debt are scarce ly worse off than they were before. Labour still bears some value; at least the same proportion ae the other articles which th? labourer may af ford to purchase, M hose, therefore, trfcp ate not in U i?t, ought scarcely to complain of ?Ik* times. It Js they only who arc ground down by their ancient eu ^apknfnts, who may complain with ?inme j^race. But why do they com plain? Does whining ever relieve the necessities of the poor?. Is it not rather the part of a uian to put his shoulders to the wheel ? do t lie best he can ? put forth all the faculties which his situation permits ? icork \nd save ? Are not industry and eco nomy the two gicat pillars of nation al prosperity? Some men may thrive by speculation. Fortune may smile propitiously upon others. But these constitute the exception ; and no! the rule . For one who gets rich in this way, there are hundreds who obtain a competency by a labor that never winks, aud a frugality tba* ne ver tires. Look around us, and see tlie pillars lhat have been laid pro strate. Are most of them your pains taking, hard-working, and saving men, or men, who wished to hike bold strides to fortune? many of -hem are honest, honorable and some of (hem industrious men ? bill ed on, are now enjoying their com petency in contentment. It was the tortoise w ho never stopt (hat outstrip ped the hare. ? The surest path to. competency is the bid one of Industry and Frugality. NEWS?NEWS, 1 Great complaints are marie, that] the papers contaiu so little news all the present time, as to be hardly] worth persuing, much less to be pay-] ing for. Some declare all papers] equally <k?6titute of news, because] iiieir columns are not filled with ac-] counts of war atid bloodshed, of the] conflict of armies, and the revolution! of empires, while others condemn only those which are filled wail mar vellous stories, of murders, " hair! breadth escapes/* &c. James Hogg in a letter 4o the Reviewer of his Jacobite Jielicks, in tlie Edinburgh! Review, which appeared in Black-I wood's Magazine for October, says] that " every body knows, wJio ever! stepped into a printing office, that a] certain portion of wliat is technically] called Balaam, must go to fill up the pages of a periodical work, from the Scotsman to the Edinburgh Re-| view inclusive." In setting up ai newspaper, for example, where] there is any dearth of public or pri- ] vate intelligence, of interest, the] Foremau says to the Editor, ? W?ll Sir, 1 suppose wt must just take] enough of Balaam to make out the] rest of this column" ? and so it is] done* Accounts of " enormous tur- ] nips grown- within a gentleman's] garden in Surry reports of a] dew mermaid having been discovered] in Orkney" ? particulars of tlio " pri-j vate life of Bonapartciat St Helena"! ? curious meteorological facts"?] " distressing accidents in Ireland"?*] " horrible murder hear Rouen"? I " spirited behaviour of Henry Broug l ham, Esq. M. P."?" charitable dis ] position of her late Majesty" ? ] " mummy"?* Roman coins discov-J sred near Watliog street" ? "la-1 borers wife delivered of three male] children"? singular coincidence, &cJ &c^- these are all thjyprts of things] fat come under titdQpjftmllepart- 1 meat of a newspaper. I We are not aware that the term] Balaam is used in this sense, bv] printers in thi& country, although] newspaper and magazine publishers] encounter the same difficulties in this] country as in Eugland, and yet there! is one class of readers, and especi-l ally of newspaper readers, who think a paper is perfectly barren, if it is not filled to overflowing with Balaam, \ while another class of another order of readers, will hardly receive the absolute necessity of the case as an artol<%y for a single scrap of him. ? We could wish that the former would cultivate a higher taste for reading, and be willing to be instructed as M ell as aipused* and the latter might >ft a ittte ore liberal in their feel ngs, thai an Editor mi&ht sometime tie excused for what he could ik< vtoid. Connecticut Journal . J 1'rc::". f..e Nc\y-li~mpsh;rc Futr.c'. 1 % ?Moral J i' flue nee of Chrintiamty. Few nu n susj>ect, perhaps no man comprehends, < lie extent of t he support given by religion to every viitue. No man perhaps is aware, how much our moral and social sen timents are fed fiom this fountain; how powerless conscience would he come without the belief of a God ; how phUied would he human benevo lence were there not (he senso of a higher benevolence to quicken and sustain it; how suddenly the whole social fabric would quake, and with what a fearful crash it would sink into hopeless ruins, w hero the idea* of a supreme Being, of accountable ness, and of a future life, to be ut terly erased from every mind. Once let men thorouirhlv believe that thev CJ ? V am the work and sport of chance; that no superior intelligence concerns itseli in human affairs ; that all their improvements perish forever at death; that the weak have i;j guardian, aud the poor bo avehger ; that there is no recompencc for sacrifices to up rjghtness and public good ; that an oath fa unheard in Heaven : that se cret crimes have no witness but the l>erpetrator ; that human existence has no purpose, and human virtue no unfailing friend ; that this brief iife is every tiling to us, anil dehth is total, everlasting extinction ; once let men thoroughly abandon religion, and who can conceive or describe the eitteut of the desolation which would, follow? We lK>pe perhaps thai human laws and natural sympa thy would hold society together. ? As reasonably might wc hclieve that were the sun quenched in t e heavens, our torches could illuminate, and our (Ires quicken and fertilize the creation. What i$ there in human nature to awakln respect and tender ness, if man is the* unprotected in sect of the day ? And what is he more if Atheism be true ? Erase all thoughts and fear of Gop from a. community and selfishness and sen suality will absorb tlie whole man. ? Appetite, knowing no restraint, and poverty and suffering having no so lace or hope, would trample in scorn on the restrainments of human laws. Virtue, duty, and principle, would be mocked and spqrned as unmean ing sounds. A sordid self jptaest would supplant every other feeTing, and man would become in fact what the theory of atheism declares him to be, a companion for brutes." h Christmas Gambols .? is love like a potal it shoots from the eye. Q. 3. What word is that yrhich by taking away a letter, makes you sick?? A. Musick. * Q. 3. Why is a spectator like a beehive?? A. Because he i% a be holder. ^7m 3. 4. In whjit month do a fair correspondent . w swers this question, adds, " ' men if you please,") talk scand$Um*?A. February,! is 4he a&ortest in the year. ' Why are darned it like heroes of thp last cental QecaOse they are mendetd* flpB. Why is a fixed star like peu, ink and paper?? A. Because If it is stationary. Q.. 7. Why is a handsome .wo- ?; man like bread?? A. tteca is often toasted. Q. 8. Why are twolaug like the two wings of a cnic A. Because they have* merry between them. / Ceremonies arc different, country ; but true politness I where the same. ? CeremonM ... take up so much of, our attention* are on!y artificial helps which igno rance assumes, in order to imitate politeness, which is the result of good sense and good nature. A reverend divine lieing accused of negligence io his calling, ainl itylcd an unfaithful shepherd, from scarcely ever visiting bxsflockf de fended himself by sayiug^ I p Was . 'always with them it sheafing time . y