Man, whom fair Commerce taught with judging eye,
And liberal hand, to barter or to buy,

Indignant Nature blushes to behold,

Degraded Man himself, truck'd, barter'd, sold;
Of every native privilege bereft,

Yet cursed with every wounded feeling left.
Hard lot! each brutal suffering to sustain,

Yet keep the sense acute of human pain.

Who makes the sum of human blessings less,

Or sinks the stock of general happiness,

Though erring fame may grace, though false renown
His life may blazon or his memory crown,
Yet the last audit shall reverse the cause,
And God shall vindicate his broken laws.

The purest wreaths which hang on glory's shrine,
For empires founded, peaceful PENN! are thine;
No blood-stain'd laurels crown'd thy virtuous toil,
No slaughter'd natives drench'd thy fair-earn'd soil.
Still thy meek spirit in thy flock' survives;
Consistent still, their doctrines rule their lives;
Thy followers only have effaced the shame
Inscribed by SLAVERY on the Christian name.
What page of human annals can record
A deed so bright as human rights restored?
Oh may that godlike deed, that shining page,
Redeem OUR fame, and consecrate OUR age!

WISDOM.

Ah! when did Wisdom covet length of days,
Or seek its bliss in pleasure, wealth, or praise?
No: Wisdom views with an indifferent eye,
All finite joys, all blessings born to die;
The soul on earth is an immortal guest,
Compell'd to starve at an unreal feast:

A spark which upward tends by nature's force;
A stream diverted from its parent source;
A drop dissever'd from the boundless sea;

A moment parted from eternity;

A pilgrim panting for a rest to come;

An exile anxious for his native home.

FAITH IN HUMBLE LIFE.

Thy triumphs, Faith, we need not take
Alone from the blest martyr's stake;
In scenes obscure, no less we see

That Faith is a reality;

An evidence of things not seen,

A substance firm whereon to lean.

The Quakers have emancipated all their slaves throughout America.-H. M.

Go, search the cottager's low room,

The day scarce piercing through the gloom;
The Christian on his dying bed,
Unknown, unletter'd, hardly fed;
No flattering witnesses attend,
To tell how glorious was his end;
Save in the Book of Life, his name
Unheard; he never dream'd of fame:
No human consolation near,

No voice to soothe, no friend to cheer;
Of every earthly stay bereft,
And nothing but his Saviour left;
Fast sinking to his kindred dust,
The Word of Life is still his trust;
The joy God's promises impart
Lies like a cordial at his heart;
Unshaken faith its strength supplies,
He loves, believes, adores, and dies!

THE TWO WEAVERS.

As at their work two weavers sat, Beguiling time with friendly chat, They touch'd upon the price of meat, So high, a weaver scarce could eat. "What with my brats and sickly wife," Quoth Dick, "I'm almost tired of life; So hard my work, so poor my fare, 'Tis more than mortal man can bear. "How glorious is the rich man's state! His house so fine! his wealth so great! Heaven is unjust, you must agree; Why all to him? why none to me? "In spite of what the Scripture teaches In spite of all the parson preaches, This world (indeed I've thought so long) Is ruled, methinks, extremely wrong. "Where'er I look, howe'er I range,

'Tis all confused, and hard, and strange; The good are troubled and oppress'd, And all the wicked are the bless'd."

Quoth John, "Our ignorance is the cause
Why thus we blame our Maker's laws;
Parts of his ways alone we know;
'Tis all that man can see below.

"Seest thou that carpet, not half done, Which thou, dear Dick, hast well begun? Behold the wild confusion there,

So rude the mass it makes one stare!

"A stranger, ignorant of the trade,

Would say, no meaning's there convey'd;

For where's the middle, where's the border?
Thy carpet now is all disorder."

Quoth Dick, "My work is yet in bits,
But still in every part it fits;
Besides, you reason like a lout-
Why, man, that carpet's inside out."

Says John, "Thou say'st the thing I mean,
And now I hope to cure thy spleen;

This world, which clouds thy soul with doubt,
Is but a carpet inside out.

"As when we view these shreds and ends,
We know not what the whole intends;
So, when on earth things look but odd,
They're working still some scheme of God.

"No plan, no pattern, can we trace;
All wants proportion, truth, and grace;
The motley mixture we deride,
Nor see the beauteous upper side.

"But when we reach that world of light,
And view those works of God aright,
Then shall we see the whole design,
And own the workman is divine.

"What now seem random strokes, will there
All order and design appear;

Then shall we praise what here we spurn'd,
For then the carpet shall be turn'd.”

"Thou'rt right," quoth Dick; "no more I'll grumble That this sad world's so strange a jumble;

My impious doubts are put to flight,
For my own carpet sets me right."

IMPORTANCE OF TRIFLES.

Since trifles make the sum of human things, And half our misery from our foibles springs; Since life's best joys consist in peace and ease, And though but few can serve, yet all may please; Oh let the ungentle spirit learn from hence,

A small unkindness is a great offence!

To spread large bounties though we wish in vain, Yet all may shun the guilt of giving pain.

To bless mankind with tides of flowing wealth,

With rank to grace them, or to crown with health,
Our little lot denies; yet, liberal still,

God gives its counterpoise to every ill;
Nor let us murmur at our stinted powers,

When kindness, love, and concord may be ours.

The gift of ministering to others' ease
To all her sons impartial Heaven decrees;

The gentle offices of patient love,

Beyond all flattery, and all price above;
The mild forbearance at a brother's fault,

The angry word suppress'd, the taunting thought;
Subduing and subdued the petty strife
Which clouds the color of domestic life;
The sober comfort, all the peace which springs
From the large aggregate of little things;

On these small cares of daughter, wife, or friend,
The almost sacred joys of Home depend:
There, Sensibility, thou best mayst reign;
Home is thy true legitimate domain.

THE PROPER EDUCATION FOR FEMALES.

Since, then, there is a season when the youthful must cease to be young, and the beautiful to excite admiration; to learn how to grow old gracefully is, perhaps, one of the rarest and most valuable arts which can be taught to woman. And it must be confessed it is a most severe trial for those women to be called to lay down beauty, who have nothing else to take up. It is for this sober season of life that education should lay up its rich resources. However disregarded they may hitherto have been, they will be wanted now. When admirers fall away, and flatterers become mute, the mind will be compelled to retire into itself; and if it find no entertainment at home, it will be driven back again upon the world with increased force. Yet, forgetting this, do we not seem to educate our daughters exclusively for the transient period of youth, when it is to maturer life we ought to advert? Do we not educate them for a crowd, forgetting that they are to live at home? for the world, and not for themselves? for show, and not for use? for time, and not for eternity?

Not a few of the evils of the present day arise from a new and perverted application of terms; among these, perhaps, there is not one more abused, misunderstood, or misapplied, than the term accomplishments. This word, in its original meaning, signifies completeness, perfection. But I may safely appeal to the observation of mankind, whether they do not meet with swarms of youthful females, issuing from our boarding-schools, as well as emerging from the more private scenes of domestic education, who are introduced into the world under the broad and universal title of accomplished young ladies, of all of whom it cannot very truly and correctly be pronounced, that they illustrate the definition by a completeness which leaves nothing to be added, and a perfection which leaves nothing to be desired.

It would be well if we would reflect that we have to educate not only rational but accountable beings; and, remembering this, should we not be solicitous to let our daughters learn of the well-taught, and associate with the well-bred? In training th

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carefully cultivate intellect, implant religion, and cherish modesty? Then, whatever is engaging in manners would be the natural result of whatever is just in sentiment and correct in principle; softness would grow out of humility, and external delicacy would spring from purity of heart. Then the decorums, the proprieties, the elegancies, and even the graces, as far as they are simple, pure, and honest, would follow as an almost inevitable consequence; for to follow in the train of the Christian virtues, and not to take the lead of them, is the proper place which religion assigns to the graces.

It will be prudent to reflect that in all polished countries an entire devotedness to the fine arts has been one grand source of the corruption of the women; and so justly were these pernicious consequences appreciated by the Greeks, among whom these arts were carried to the highest possible perfection, that they seldom allowed them to be cultivated to a very exquisite degree by women of great purity of character. And while corruption, brought on by an excessive cultivation of the arts, has contributed its full share to the decline of states, it has always furnished an infallible symptom of their impending fall. The satires of the most penetrating and judicious of the Roman poets, corroborating the testimonies of the most accurate of their historians, abound with invectives against the general depravity of manners introduced by the corrupt habits of female education, so that the modesty of the Roman matron, and the chaste demeanor of her virgin daughters, which, amid the stern virtues of the state, were as immaculate and pure as the honor of the Roman citizen, fell a sacrifice to the luxurious dissipation brought in by their Asiatic conquest; after which the females were soon taught a complete change of character. They were instructed to accommodate their talents of pleasing to the more vitiated tastes of the other sex; and began to study every grace and every art which might captivate the exhausted hearts, and excite the wearied and capricious inclinations of the men; till, by a rapid, and at length complete enervation, the Roman character lost its signature, and through a quick succession of slavery, effeminacy, and vice, sunk into that degeneracy of which some of the modern Italian states now serve to furnish a too just specimen.

QUALITIES THAT ARE PREFERABLE TO GENIUS.

Patience, diligence, quiet and unfatigued perseverance, industry, regularity, and economy of time-as these are the dispositions would labor to excite, so these are the qualities I would warmly commend. So far from admiring genius, or extolling its prompt effusions, I would rather intimate that excellence, to a certain dewer of every competitor; that it is the vanity of