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At the commencement of his career in England, Perr kins was hailed by all classes with enthusiasm; he was encouraged to go on, and, we trust, will receive honour and reward from a people who will give him a fair opportunity to exhibit his powers; the British nation will be just to his merits, without asking how long it is since his ancestors left their shores. They will cherish the fame of their foster-child as of one of their own sons, and this country will echo back his praise, mingled with notes of pleasure at England's magnanimity. Such conduct will do much to destroy reciprocal prejudices and to teach those who speak one language to be constant and firm friends. Perkins has no political account to settle with any body of men, for he always considered himself as a citizen of the world. Science was his pursuit, usefulness his object; and although he enjoyed his own opinions and exercised his rights, yet he never stopped to join a party or to warm himself by political excitements. Of the last and great invention which he has announced, but not fully explained to the public, the writer of this sketch does not, from any thing he yet knows, venture to form a decided opinion; but from a thorough knowledge of the man, he has a strong belief in its ultimate success. Perkins may deceive himself, but all the world's great masters have to bestow, would not make him an impostor for an hour.

He has a compact, athletic frame, a strong constitution, and sprang from a long-lived race of hardy men; therefore we may indulge a hope that he will have opportunities of doing much before he passes the bounda ries of active life: May it be so decreed-and the remotest nations enjoy the benefit of the labour of one whose track to glory was bloodless, and whose elevation never gave the human heart a pang, nor drew from mortal eye a tear.




[Vermont Intelligencer.]

THERE are many, who have told of the clear and charming skies of Italy and Greece, who have sung of their beauty and their loveliness, who have said no man whose mind is ever so dull, so unmusical and so unpoetical, but that he, when he breathed their air and viewed their skies, would be inspired to strains of music and of poetry-his whole soul would be changed, and his spirit would fly to purer and nobler objects. With reason it may be thus, to those whose lives have been spent in the murky and foggy atmosphere of England. But for a happy and pleasant life, give me the bright cold nights of New-England, where, in full and joyous splendor, the moon moves among the stars, where no cloud appears in its track and disturbs its wake, as it rolls along shedding around its beauty and its glory. This is such a scene as best fits, and is most congenial to, our habits and constitutions. It is the air of freedom that we breathe, nor do we ask for that soft and gentle clime that would only weaken and render less powerful and energetic, the stout and hardy spirits of our countrymen. It is this season of the year that adds to the strength and elasticity of the mind, the clear, cold and transparent air invigorates and nerves the spirit. The happy father of a family can now spend the long and pleasant evenings around his own fireside, and in the midst of his own circle, and recount with joy and thankfulness,


the blessings of the year, and remind them of the benefits which will result from a social, temperate and religious life, and commit them to the protection of that Being, who controls the elements at his pleasure, and supplies the wants of all his creatures in infinite wisdom and mercy--give me, I say, the cold and pure air of New-England, with its attendant blessings, in preference to the milder climes of Italy and Greece, or those of any other country with their attendant evils.


[Morning Chronicle. Baltimore.]

HAVING cast our eyes over the pages of a newspaper, we could not but be struck with the variety of intelligence conveyed in a single sheet. It first states the wholesale prices current, which brings to the view the bustle of merchandize-then follows an half column of applications for letters of administration, forcibly reminding us that many of these lately active individuals, are now quietly reposing in the arms of death, and that many clamorous relatives and friends are thinking more of their property, than of their ashes. The intelligence now takes a bolder swell—we are informed what, and in what state, a number, a large congregation of these transitory mortals, are doing in their dignified, executive, and legislative capacity-men who talk about their rights as if they were of eternal duration. Then a case of piracy occurs, shewing how these important characters may hasten the approach of the king of terrors, as if death delayed his advances too long; then we have an account of a penitentiary, explaining the mode adopted by society to secure to the possessors of property the means of enjoying it during the regular advances of death. Then comes a project of internal improvement, that for the little time that we do remain upon this earth, we may be allowed the use of internal canals; that we may divert rivers from their ancient courses, every particle whereof reminds us of the flow of human existence. Then comes advertisements for builders, stone masons, and what not, to inform us, that these tenants of an hour

must build houses for their residence that will stand longer than themselves, erecting superb mansions for others to inhabit. At last, in a little obscure corner of the newspaper, we find an obituary-passed over as an ordinary event, to remind us, after all, of how little consequence

we are.

[Commercial Advertiser. New-York.]
-But who is she,


Her dark hair streaming on her brow, her eye
Wild and her breast deep-heaving? She oft gaz'd
At distance for the white sail, nor wept nor spoke,
And now is gone."


A CORONER'S inquest was held at West-Point, on Thursday, on the body of a woman named M'Ginn, who was found dead among the rocks at the foot of the high cliff which overhangs the favourite retreat of the grotto of Kosciusko, where that officer was wont to regale himself and friends with wine after dinner, while stationed there during the revolution. The verdict was—accidental death.

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The circumstances, that have marked the life of this humble woman, and her now unhappy husband, have been in some respects romantic; and her conduct, since her marriage, has afforded one of the strongest examples of constant and ardent affection; and what is most remarkable, is, that it was the intensity of her affection that caused her untimely death. It appears that they were acquainted in Ireland, but as no peculiar attachment existed between them, they emigrated to this country separately, and at different times. By accident they met either at West-Point, or near the Foundery, on the opposite side of the river, a few years since; soon after which, it was agreed that they should be married, whenever Patrick should have raised a certain sum of money. Patrick then went away and laboured hard, and lived prudently, until he had accomplished that object, when he returned, and was awarded for his toil by the heart and hand of the object of his affection.

Their lot was cast in the humble walks of life, it is

true, but never did a couple live more contentedly and happily than they; and whenever Patrick has been called away on business, if detained longer than was anticipated, she knew neither rest nor slumber until his return. It is but a short time since, Patrick went to Newburgh in a boat, where he was detained all night; and such was the anxiety of his faithful wife, that she sat upon a cliff that overhangs the river, or walked upon the edge of the rugged steep, until the boat came safe to the shore in the morning. Often has she counted the solitary hours as they passed tediously on, in the same manner, while no sounds broke upon the dull hours of night, save the howling of the rude winds above, and the dashing of the surge against the rocks below, mingled occasionally with the stern voice of the weatherbeaten sentinel, as he slowly paced his solitary round, or perchance the gloomy screech of the lone bird of night. On the morning of the fatal day, Patrick went in an open boat to the mills at Buttermilk Falls, about two miles below, and, she had prepared to visit some friends on the opposite side of the river, but would not go until his return. He was absent longer than was expected, and she repaired to the wonted place of watching, and seated herself upon a crag, which shelved over the deep and dark abyss beneath. Night came on, and the faithful creature, probably overcome by fatigue and anxiety, dropped asleep, fell-and was dashed in pieces. In the morning, her shawl was found upon the rock, and her lifeless body, among the fallen fragments, 170 feet below.


[Morning Chronicle. Baltimore.]
-parvo curvamine flectit

Ut veras imitentur aves.--OVID.

AMONG the numerous Arts and Sciences, which have employed the attention of the ingenious part of mankind,

* During the session of Congress, December, 1821, a Mr. Bennet, of Pennsylvania, actually presented a memorial to the House of Representatives, praying for the exclusive right of navigating the air with a machine which he had then recently invented. His memorial was the origin of this and the twe for lowing articles.-En.

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