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Fame, how futile and vain are thy aspirations! Well mayest thou, proud genius! envy the carpenter at his bench-the smith at his forge—the tinker at his pots, and the shoemaker at his lapstone—their happiness is infinitely superior to that of all the boasted geniuses who lap unreal glory in a fancied elysium-or, at the best, purchase immortality by a life of wo, and a career of anguish, disappointment and disease.
ON A BLIND BOY, SOLICITING CHARITY, BY PLAYING
ON HIS FLUTE.
BY R. T. CONRAD.
•Had not God, for some wise purpose, steeld
'Tis vain! They heed thee not. Thy flute's meek tone
Thrills thine own breast alone. As streams that glide Over the desert rock, whose sterile frown
Melts not beneath the soft and crystal tide, So passes thy sweet strain o'er hearts of stone.
Thine out-stretched hands, thy lips' unuttered moan, Thine orbs upturning to the darken’d sky,
(Darken'd alas! poor boy, to thee alone!) Are all unheeded here. They pass thee by. Away!—those tears, unmark’d, fall from thy sightless eye!
Ay, get thee gone, benighted one !-away!
This is no place for thee. The buzzing mart Of selfish trade, the glad and garish day,
Are not for strains like thine. There is no heart
To echo to their soft appeal. Depart !
Spreading a kindred gloom; and there, apart
I pity thee—thy life a live-long night;
No hand to guide thy darkling steps aright,
I pity thee-thus dark, and lone, and drear! Yet haply it is well. The world from thee
Hath veiled its wintry frown—its withering sneer Th' oppressor's triumph, and the mocker's glee:
Why then, rejoice, poor boy-rejoice, thou canst not see!
SETTLERS OF PENNSYLVANIA.
BY PETER M'CALL.
Poets of all countries, in embodying their thoughts of man as he ought to be, not as he is, have described a period of the world, an age of purity, happiness, and peace, which never had existence but in the rainbow colours of their own beautiful fancy. The picture of the primitive society of Pennsylvania needs but the touch of this enchanting pencil to elevate it to a golden age. The belief in mysterious and supernatural agency, and the discussion of subtile points of theology, literally rent New England in pieces. A single trial for witchcraft, which ended, however, in an acquittal, stands upon the records of Pennsylvania, as the Keithian controversy was the only one that disturbed the harmony of the Society of Friends. Indeed it is a striking feature of that society, that will doubtless recommend it to the good opinion of not a few, rather studiously to avoid than to invite or willingly engage in polemical discussion.
Eminently calculated to diffuse a spirit of harmony and order, to systematise society, and to promote that tranquillity which is the great motive of its institution, the end and object of its laws, the principles of the Friends inculcated a deep and solemn veneration for the constituted authorities of government. “Government," says Penn,“ seems to me a part of religion itself, a thing sacred in its institution and end.” Thus regarded as an
emanation of divine power, and invested with a religious reverence, the moral guilt of arresting or disturbing its functions enhanced the civil crime.
The spirit of private litigation is perhaps more fatal to the peace of society, than the daring outrage which openly insults the majesty of the law. It unseals the bitter fountain of evil passion; it saps the morals, it weakens the energies of a community. The early inhabitants of Pennsylvania endeavoured to set bounds to an evil that militated with their pacific principles, and made frequent legislative efforts to check and control what they could not wholly exterminate. In illustration of their peaceful character, it is related that the adversary of the venerable Pastorius, a name honourably distinguished in our annals, to deprive him of all professional assistance, retained the entire bar of the province. Happy age ! when such a stratagem could be effected; when Pennsylvania required the services of but three lawyers.
An honest and straightgoing simplicity, a simplicity truly republican, adorned the path of our fathers. In dress, habits, manners, accomplishments, learning, legislation, in every sphere and department of life, in public and in private, this is the pervading beautiful characteristic.
In the statute book, it is seen to reject with an unsparing hand, the cumbrous forms and artificial processes which time, not reason, had consecrated in the mother country. While it never flattered vanity at the expense of truth, nor sacrificed utility to senseless show, the simplicity of our ancestors was entirely aloof from the ascetic severity of gloomy fanaticism ; it claimed no kindred with the sanguinary spirit which dictated the blue laws of a sister province. Springing, not from the physical necessities of a new settlement, but from the