POETRY. For the Emerald. ODE. FALSE Glory on his crimson car, And thousands die. Peace who loves the rural scene, Doth trembling fly. He sees; and straight at his command, His followers dire, a hell-bred band, Scour like bloodhounds o'er the land, And take the maid. Her echo answers groan for groan: In chains array'd. But list! from yonder orient sky, Heard you not that glorious cry? 'Twas Justice call'd on Liberty, And gave her sword. On glory, like the bolt of heaven, For the Emerald. LINES D** ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY, ON PRESENTING HER TWO WITHERED DAISIES. FROM the spot, I pluck'd them, where they grew, And fair they flourish'd, sweet they blew Ah no! they'll ne'er revive. SELECTED. The following beautiful lines written by Mrs. Carter, appeared under the sig uature of "Eliza" in a periodical publication, when she was no more than 18 years old. "WHILE clear the night, and every thought serene, Let Fancy wander o'er the solemn sceneAnd,wing'd byactive contemplation, rise Amidst the radiant wonders of the skies. Here Cassiopeia fills a lucid throne,.. There blaze the splendors of the Northern Crown: While the slow car the cold Triones roll O'erthe pale countries of the frozenpole, With faithful beams conduct the wan[deep; d'ring ship, O'er the wide desart of the pathless Throughout the Galaxy's extended line,. Unnumber'd orbs in gay confusion shine: Where ev'ry star that gilds the gloom of night, [light, With the faint tremblings of a distant Perhaps illumes some system of its ownWith the strong influence of a radiant Calling her cheek a blushing rose, But if her heart and her desires HOPE.** By George Keate, Esq. ALL splendor which wealth can display Is so vain that it quickly must cloy; Like a bubble it soon melts away, If Hope does not heighten the joy. Sweet passion! without thee, the soul In the midst of fruition would tire; Into times yet unborn thou canst roll, And expand on the wings of desire. It was Hope that first planted my vine, And it's clusters luxuriantly spread; Rear'd my fig.tree, whose branches entwine And so gratefully shadow my head. Hope comforts the mourner's sad state, Soothes the wretch who is struggling with pain, Bids the captive support his hard fate, And to home turn his eyes back again, Bright charmer! ah! live in my breast, Round my temples thy garland shall bind; SEMPER REFULGET. No. 23. Boston, Saturday, October 4, 1806. ORIGINAL PAPERS. FOR THE EMERALD. THE WANDERER, No. XLVIII. "Carry me, I pray thee, to the land of my fathers, that so I may depart in - peace." tempt to impose a check on the causes which produce them, may suit indeed with the precepts of a visionary system, but will never correspond with the best feelings of mankind. The prejudices which arise from early impressions, leave deep marks on the mind and are probably among the first causes of happiness. Who does not love to recollect the THE CONVENIENCE of life de- days of boy-hood, the time of infanpends more perhaps on accidental tile simplicity; when no care disfeelings and early prejudices, than turbed the mind, no anxiety depriv on deep researches of reason or ab-ed pleasure of its zest? Whose stract proofs of propriety. The countenance receives no flush of first is within every person's power, joy when he marks the spot consethe last is the prerogative of few. crated in his memory by giving Every man has enjoyments which him the first view of the world; where please only himself, aversions which with satchel on his back creeping to nobody beside regards, and preju- school he had passed the gaiety of dices of which the best that can be youth, mingled with ambitious zeal said is they are neither immoral in boyish sports, and felt all the nor injurious. They are weak-pride of bloodless victory? This nesses of his own mind, for which may be prejudice-yes, even folly, though he cannot satisfy the stoic but is it not pleasure? Is it not naon principles of philosophy, he ture? Yonder village is the place can justify to a man of the world, on principles of human nature. A wonderful facility of associating ideas, makes a place dear and interesting, which has no other circumstance to recommend it than that it was the scene of former joys; it recalls those sensations of pleasure which once warmed the heart and presents us in visions of fancy with those lovely friends, who soothed misfortune by sympathy, or enlarged by participating pleasure. To discard these emotions or at Ꮓ of your nativity; the house now almost a ruin was the mansion of your fathers, can you pass it with indifference? Does it not bring to mind instances of paternal kindness, and renew upon the ear the sweet sounds of maternal affection? Or are the ideas of infancy, like your foot steps on the gravel walk, obliterated by other impressions and worn away by time? True indeed the companions of your early sports are separated; the guardians of your younger years have paid the : debt of nature; the exterior of the place is changed; the parish church has grown more venerable by its. years, but it is yet familiar to your eye; it renews feelings which nature is proud to inculcate, and which it is either affectation or insensibility to deny. The man of the world has no sentiment of this kind. With the confidence of conviction he would declare that there now exists no cause for preference, that reason finds nothing here more noble than elsewhere and to act otherwise than from the steady dictates of judgment is unmanly and disgraceful. friend in those delightful visions, which it pictures to the fancy. MAN OF INTELLECT, deride not the feelings of Cornelia, smile not with fancied superiority at the recital. Science has stored your mind with a valuable treasure, it has opened to you the depositories of wealth. But let not the grandeur of those objects which she spreads to your admiring view, divert your attention entirely from the smaller pursuits of life; destroy not the flower while you contemplate the oak, though of humbler claim it has still its utility, and should be preserved for its beauty, if not for its use. Genius has its eccentricities, and hmanity its foibles. It is only the virtuous mind which can feel the in Vice destroys the sympathy that forms them; they are creatures of reflection, but the mind dreads retrospection when conscience ac There is a grace beyond the reach of art, says the poet, and perhaps there may be found "merit beyond the circuit of reason." Afluence of those softer impressions. cold and phlegmatic judgment will creep cautiously on actions which a generous bosom will perform by an instinctive impulse; some sentiments are virtuous principally be-cuses it of crime. cause they are spontaneous; and But what would the Wanderer the heart that always waits to calcu- commend? Is it that aspen-like late by moral diagrams will derive sensibility, which is affected by evlittle merit from its actions. Judg-ery breeze, sensation at every pore? ment is requisite in the application agitated, fainting, dying by the mere of principles, and time may be re-visions of affrighted imagination? quired for the determination of par- Is it that interest in the heroine of ticular acts; but there is no delay a novel, which invades the duties requisite to approve the sentiments of domestic life? Or is it that visionof virtue, and the mind should readi-ary system of universal philanthroly assent to the first feelings of benevolence. manity for its guide and virtue for its end. It is the heart sensible to the delights of friendship, but capable of discrimination ; neither py, which, discarding the common causes of affection, loses itself in an CORNELIA has long worn round unexplored forest of fraternity? By her neck a small braid of hair. It no means; it is sensibility of a less is really of no use and very little or-attenuated kind; that which has hu nament; but it was the parting gift of one she loved and has been consecrated to fiiendship by the tear of affection. It renews in her mind the virtues of an amiable and endearing character, and diminishes the pain of separation by the remembrance of former kindness. Like the talisman in oriental fable, it presents the living features of her like Nigbe, all tears" at every fictitious tale of distress, nor yet unaffected by those real evils which chequer the life of man. It is that medium between affectation and insensibility, where the true THE EMERALD. point of virtue exists; but this medium is rarely attained. It was fashionable at one time to indulge The tear which glitters at the recital, is more honorible than the star of nobility, and more precious on every occasion the most melan-than the embalming aromatics of Egypt. E. The ship Rose in Bloom. She was lost in the gale on her voyage from Charleston (S. C.) to New York. Twentive of the distressing event has been ty souls perished. A particular narrainserted in the daily papers.. For the Emeraka, choly musings of distress. Novels, THAT a Reviewer is bound rct to answer, when cracked, is matter of notoriety. To attack him is therefore cow: diye. His fice of necessity imposes an obligation not to defend. There would else be no end to Reviews. We should have a Review reviewed, and a Reviewer of that Review, fast, tumbling one upon another, till it would be all a dream to imagine Jacob's ladder could reach the top of the heap. Silence on such an occasion shot!1 not then be taken for evidence of conviction. That a Reviewer soya nothing raises no presumption that nothing can be said. It is still no. rant and supercilious without prnishmut." ROWLAND should increfore not be utterly unnoticed. The silence of contempt is too great reward for the deserts of a writer, who Be not then ashamed LoUISA of those tears which the melancholy narrative of the late shipwreck drew from your eyes; they are pearls of humanity more valuable than any gem that ever was gather-meet, that a man should be igneed from the: Indian sea, and adding to your charms more loveliness than any jewel that ever sparkled on your breast. Indulge, these emotions. Realize the situation of the child, for whose safety a father sacrificed can pass without censure only his life. Bring to your view the when he passes without observation." lingering horrors of the miserable The review of "Home" in the survivors. Picture their disap-21st Emerald had for its object, pointment, when the morning star what should indeed be the object of deceived them with hopes of deliv-every review, critical analysis. It erance; when faint and expiring, the unexpected -assurance of safety Icould hardly paint joy on their countenance. These aro circumstances which may well call for the display of all those feelings of humanity which play round the virtuous heart. I company with Campbell and Rogove, therefore labored to point out faults ; but was on the whole a very flattering criticism. It raised the anony mous author, where it is feared it will be generally thought he ought ever to be nameless, into the same |