The blighted leaves, which all around
By autumn's blast now strew the ground
These yellow leaves appear to me
As emblems of man's destiny;
But yesterday, they bloomed so fair-
Wither'd and dead, they now lie there,
A monument to mortal man,
Which tells his days are but a span.

Well, indeed, may you deem,

That love is woe and pain,

That all its griefs are real,
And all its joys are vain.
While your creed of love is like
What you say that creed to be,
It is the heart creates

Its own bliss and misery.

To try, but not to trust

To doubt, and to deride-
To trifle, and to torture;

And can this be your pride?
To bid the cheek grow pale,
The lip lose its gaiety,
The eye forget its light,

So it is for love of thee.

This could but teach the heart,
Its tenderness to hide,
For, deep as is woman's love,
"Tis equall'd by her pride.
What must a woman feel,

Whose very soul is given

ADA.

To that wild love-whose world must be
Her all of Hell or Heaven?

Then to meet the careless smile,

Look on the altered eye,
See it in others dwell, and pass

Herself regardless by.

And having drained the bitter dregs,
All bitterness above,

Of slighted love-then to be told,
'Twas but to try your love.

The heart that could bear this
Must be of stone or steel;

and his life,―the right of property,-the en tire disposal of his person, of his industry, and of his faculties,-the communication of his thoughts, by all possible means,-the pursuit of happiness, and resistance to oppression.

The end of all political associations is the preservation of the natural and imprescriptible rights of individuals. These rights are liberty, property, safety, and resistance to oppression.

The end of all society is the public good. All men are equal in the eye of the law. The exercise of the natural rights is limited only in such degree as ensures the enjoyment of them to the other members of society.

Man receives from nature imperious wants, with means sufficient to satisfy them. Society can only be formed by a free agreement amongst all the associates.

Every man is the sole proprietor of his own person: he may engage his services or his time; but he cannot sell himself, the primary property being inalienable.

Every man should be free in the exercise of his personal faculties, provided he infringe not on the rights of others.

So, in like manner, no man is responsible for his thoughts or opinions; every man has the right either of speaking or of remaining silent. No method of publishing his thoughts and sentiments should be forbidden to any man; and, in particular, every man is free to write, print, or cause to be printed, whatever he thinks proper, always on the sole condition of not giving offence to the rights of others.

Every citizen is equally free to employ his hands, bis industry, and his capital, as he shall think good and useful to himself. He may fabricate and produce whatever he please, and in what manner he may please; he may retain or dispose of, at his pleasure, all sorts of merchandise, and sell them either

The heart that broke not with such wrong, wholesale or retail. In these different oc

Was not made love to feel.

Alas! for her whose love

Is fated thine to be;

Better the heart should break
Than beat for one like thee.

L. E. L.

THE SOCIAL RIGHTS OF MAN: Being a compilation from the various declarations of Rights, submitted at different periods to the National Assembly and Convention of France, and recently arranged by Count Lanjuinais in his "History of Constitutions."

NATURE made men free and equal; the distinctions necessary for social order are founded only upon general utility.

Every man is born with inalienable and imprescriptible rights; such as, the liberty all his opinions, the care of his honour

cupations, no particular person, no association has a right to restrict him, much less a right to prevent him. The law alone can mark the limits which must be given to this, as to every other liberty; and such law must consist with the general principles of liberty.

Every man is, in like manner, able to go or to remain, to come in or to go out, and even to go out and return, into his country, whenever and however he may think proper.

In fine, every man has it in his power to dispose of and use his property and revenue in any manner he shall please.

A man can only be subject to laws consented to by him or his real representatives, and previously promulgated and legally applied.

[To be continued]

MISCELLANEOUS.

Which is generally the most successful in life,

the Modest or the Impudent Man.

many invitations, accepts them boldly, and possibly soon acquires a good patron, alactions, deserve to practise a few steps on though he may, for doing many little dirty the tread mill, as that has become a most A MODEST man, even if he possess merit, fashionable and highly approved dance, and is generally a person diffident of his own of much greater utility to society than the abilities; he is also capable of seeing his waltz, as requiring equal agility and energy. own defects, and duly appreciating the ex-But should he be promoted to the tread cellency of others; he does not obtrude him-mill, even there you may mark the superiself on the notice of the world but must be ority of impudence over modesty, for you sought after, and when found can hardly be may find a modest man for some inadvermade to believe he possesses the merit he is tent act, taking a little exercise there also, praised for, and takes it to be only a friendly especially if he be found guilty of the sin of compliment. He always speaks highly of poverty. Or he may not have a friend to others, and is afraid of doing himself even speak for him, and that is another crime; common justice, lest he should be thought and he may be ignorant of the law, which too assuming. He is too low in his own opi-few know much about, there being such a nion to dare to solicit patronage, and hum-glorious uncertainty of it, that it frequently bly keeping his distance from society, he is depends on the tip of the tongue of a skillsoon neglected and forgotten. Being ne-ful counsellor. Now I say impudence is a glected by the world, he soon neglects him very useful accomplishment; for when the self; becomes a sloven, it may be, idle and time is expended in which they are to take dissipated, and a fine genius is lost to him- their lessons and they come to be dismissed. self and to mankind. Now this often is the the modest man hides his face, is ashamed, effect of too much modesty. There is a and broken hearted, while the impudent common trite saying that you can't have too man, with head erect and face unblushing, much of a good thing. But every one will boldly enters the company even of his old asallow modesty to be a good thing, though I sociates, laughs at the fun, raises a laugh think the person alluded to has proved that from all about him, and soon becomes their he had too much. To try the subject on idol again. There is a possibility of some another ground, we will suppose him not to one or two persons who will neglect and desbe so very modest, or, I may call it, weak-pise him, but his impudence bears bim headed and bashful. He ought to be too modest to take to himself any undue praise, but he ought to accept what he knows he is deserving of without arrogance or even the appearance of it; he should neither be diffident nor assuming; in company he should show respect to others, and accept of that respect which is due to himself, and not dogmatically explain any subject, not even in his own occupation, but with deference to the opinion of others deliver his own with gentleness and mildness, and rather give up a point than contend it. This man, I should think, would be called a modest man, and be esteemed and patronised by the world in general.

Now for the impudent man.-The impudent man, not having any of the embarrassments of the modest man, can dress well, as he will find almost any tailor will trust him if he promises prompt payment, which he will willingly do, though, at the same time, he is conscious he never intends it, but by sheer impudence obtains his end, and boldly enters into good and genteel society, where be speaks highly of his own merit, depreciates the merits of his superiors in the same profession or occupation, and is believed, particularly if he sings a good song or acts some monkey grimaces, and becomes the fiddle of the company, and is highly applauded. Of course he gets their esteem, has

through all that. The same tailor will trust him, the same company receive him, and all is forgotten. If he is industrious, he gets business; if he is idle or lazy, he gets treated: so he has an opportunity either of getting work, or of sponging on his friends. He will live by the name of the unfortunate man, though he ought to think himself very fortunate he was not transported; and the world may think itself very unfortunate in that he was not hanged. But impudence being his unerring guide, such is the world that he may be a bright fellow, and either by marriage or by gambling make a fortune.

Desultory thoughts.-One man marries a woman because she looks well when she dances-she never dances afterwards. Another man marries because the lady has a handsome foot and ankle, which, after marriage, he never takes the trouble to admire. A third marries for love, which wanes with the honey-moon. A fourth marries for money, and finds that his wife does not choose to die, to complete his satisfaction. And a fifth, being old in wisdom as in years, marries a young woman, who soon becomes a suitable match for him, by growing old with grief. Thousands do wrong because others have done the same before them, upon the grand principle that many blacks make

white. Many embrace opinions different from
those commonly received in order to show
that they have a mind able to think for it-
self, and superior to what they call vulgar
prejudices, without considering whether er-
roneous prejudices are better than those
they have abandoned. All grumble at the
unsubstantial nature of worldly enjoyments,
and yet many purchase them at the expense
of their souls. Hypocrites have a strange
taste, neither to enjoy this life nor the next.
Many write for religion, speak for it, quar-
rel for it, fight for it, die for it, but few live
for it. It is not uncommonly remarked that
such a one is "religious," by way of re-
proach, and that too by a Christian, at a tea
party of Christians.
Millions of people are
most anxious about what they least require,
and, after teazing themselves and others for
many a weary day, they die-leave their
cash to those who have no need of it-and
are, for the first time eulogised, when the
praise of man can avail them nothing.

venerable visitor, alarmed at the gleomy preparations and dire threats of the desperate female, asked for pen, ink, and paper, which being immediately produced, he wrote a check on his banker for (we believe) two thousand pounds. He immediately retired with precipitation, happy to escape without personal injury. The next morning, before its opening, he attended at the bank with some police myrmidons, and on Mrs. Phepoe's making her appearance with the check, she was arrested, and subsequently tried at the Old Bailey, on a capital charge, grounded on the above proceedings. However, through the able defence made by her counsel (now Mr. Justice Fielding), who took a legal objection to the case as proved, and contended that she never had or obtained any property of Mr. Courtois, on the principle that possession constituted the first badge or ownership, she was eventually acquitted. Truth, however, obliges us to add, that Mrs. Phepoe, who was once connected with a respectable family in the sister island, Mr. Courtois, whose death at an advanced was in about four years after capitally conage has recently been recorded, was for victed on a charge of cutting and maiming many years a hair-dresser, in London.a poor woman, for which she suffered the last By dint of extraordinary exertions in va penalty of the law. Some years since, the rious ways, and through a most rigid system late Lord Gage met Courtois, at the Court of economy in his expenditure, this man Room of the East India House, on an elec(who seemed to have no small portion of the tion business. "Ah, Courtois," said his Charteris and the Elwes blended in his com- Lordship, "what brings you here?"-“ To position) died immensely rich, having amass- give my votes, my Lord," was the answer. ed, according to confident reports, nearly"What! are you a proprietor?"—" Most two hundred thousand pounds! Old Cour- certainly."-"And more votes than one?" tois was long well known in the purlieus of "Yes, my Lord, I have FOUR!"—“ Aye, St. Martin's and the Haymarket. His appearance was meagre and squalid, and his clothes, such as they were, were pertinaciously got up in exactly the same cut and fashion, and the colour always either fawn or morone. For the last thirty years the venerable chapeau was uniformly of the same cock. The principal feat, however, in which this fervent votary of Plutus appeared before the public, was his curious and nearly fatal affair with the unfortunate Mrs. Maria Theresa Phepoe. About twenty years ago, this ill-fated woman projected a rather bungling scheme, in order to frighten her old acquaintance and visitor, Courtois, out of a considerable sum of money. One evening, when she was certain of his calling, she had her apartment prepared for his reception in a species of funereal style-a bier, a black velvet pall, black wax candles lighted, &c. No sooner had the old friend entered the room, than the Lady, assisted by her Maid, pounced on him, forced him into an arm chair, in which he was forcibly held down by the woman, while the Lady, brandishing Subscriptions received by G. & C. Carvill, 127 Broada case knife or razor, swore, with some vio-way-where communications may be left, or transmitlent imprecations, that instant should be his ted through the post-office to the editor.

last, if he did not give her an order on his

indeed! Why, then, before you take the book, pray be kind enough to pin up my curls?" with which modest request the Proprietor of four votes, equal to ten thousand pounds, immediately complied!

French Promises.-The Queen Marie Antoinette said to M. de Breteuil, "Baron, I have a favour to ask of you." "Madame," he replied, "if the thing be possible, it is already done; if impossible, it shall be done."

Epitaph from the Greek.

Pillars of death! carv'd syrens' tearful urns!
In whose sad keeping my poor dust is laid,
To him that near my tomb his footsteps turns,
Stranger or Greek, bid hail! and say, a maid
Rests in her bloom below; her sire the name
Of Myrtis gave: her birth and lineage high;
And say her bosom friend Erinna came,
And on the marble graved her elegy.

PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY.

JAMES G. BROOKS,
Editor and Proprietor, No. 4 Wall-street. New-York.

Terms-Four dollars per annum, payable in advance.

banker for a large sum of money. The

J. SEYMOUR, printer, 49 John-street.

LITERARY.

The Defence of Poesy.

Sidney, knt. 1752.

[Retrospective Review.]

in the minds of those who do not take the trouble of judging for themselves-a sober and serious disquisition, almost entirely reBy Sir Philip jecting the "foreign aid of ornament," and equally free from dogmatism and declamation. It is evidently the result of a deep conviction in the mind of the writer, and a ONE would think, that to write a "De- strong desire to impress that conviction fence of Poesy," were something like wri- upon others-to impress it, however, in a ting "an Apology for the Bible." And yet manner that shall render it not merely a it appears that this was considered necessa- sentiment of the heart, or a theory of the ry, by the most poetical person of the most brain, but a settled and active belief of the poetical age that England, or any other reason and the judgment. To this end Sir country, ever knew. It must be remem- Philip Sidney not only examines the nature bered, however, that the exact period to and objects of poetry as an art, and brings forwhich we are now referring was but the ward all the arguments that have been urearly dawn of the bright Elizabethan day-ged in its favour, but he weighs and exaShakspeare and the great dramatists having mines those arguments fairly, and contrasts scarcely as yet commenced their immortal them with those which have been or may be labours, and Sidney himself being, with the alleged on the opposite side of the question; exception of Spencer, the best poet of the and finally rejects or admits, as the proofs time. That this noble defence of his high may seem to preponderate. He begins by art had some share in bringing forward the showing the antiquity of poetry, and arguing glories that followed so close upon its ap- for the consequent inference, that it was the pearance, as well as in preparing the way parent and source of all other learning; for the due reception and appreciation of and this he addresses to those learned of his those glories, is what can scarcely be doubt- own and of other days who have inveighed ed; and that it was intended and calculated against poetry as a vain thing. "And will so to do, is certain: for, of all the charac- you play the hedge-hog, (says he) that being teristics that belong to it, that of a fervid sin-received into the den drove out his host? cerity, speaking from the heart, to the heart, or rather the vipers, that with their birth kill is its most striking. In other respects, the ex- their parents? Let learned Greece, in any of cellencies of this admirable Essay are equally her manifold sciences, be able to show me one conspicuous, whether we regard the purity book before Musæus, Homer, and Hesiodand simplicity of its style, the strength and all three nothing else but poets. Nay, let any soundness of its reasoning, the rich fervor of history be brought, that can say any writers its eloquence, or the variety and aptness of were there before them, if they were not men its illustrations. In short, nothing is want- of the same skill-as Linus, Orpheus, and ing to make the Defence of Poesy a piece of some others, are named, who having been the writing that, in a similar space, is not to be first of that country that made pens deliverparalleled in our language. ers of their knowledge to posterity, may Sir Philip Sidney, in the opening para- justly challenge to be called their fathers in graph of his essay, gives himself out as "a learning." And so he goes on, through the piece of a logician;" and, in fact, the De- earliest writers of all civilized countries; fence of Poesy may be regarded as a logical and concludes the enumeration thus: "In discourse, from beginning to end-inter- our neighbour country, Ireland, where truly spersed here and there with a few of the more learning goes very bare, yet are their poets flowery parts of eloquence, but every where held in devout reverence. Even among the keeping in view the main objects of all lo- most barbarous and simple Indians," (only gic and of all eloquence-namely, proof and the next remove to the Irish, as he seems persuasion. It is, in fact-contrary to the to think) where no writing is, yet have general notion that prevails concerning it they their poets, who make and sing