its legislature when they who supposed that there was greater security in the sword than in christianity, became the predominating body. From that hour the Pennsylvanians transferred their confidence in christian principles, to a confidence in their arms; and from that hour to the present they have been subject to war, with all its concomitant evils.

Such is the evidence derived from a national example, of the consequences of a pursuit of the christian policy in relation to war. Here are a people who absolutely refused to fight, and who, incapacitated themselves for resistance by refusing to possess arms, and these were the people, whose land, amidst surrounding broils and slaughter, was selected as a land of security and peace. The only national opportunity which the virtue of the christian world has afforded us of ascertaining the safety of relying upon God for defence, has determined that it is safe.

THE IMMORTALITY OF MIND.
Oh! can that Mind whose pure delight
Is truth and virtue's sacred way
Be lost in everlasting night,

And worth and genius pass away?

It cannot be! though Nature die,

Aud youth and loveliness decayThe immortal Mind shall rise on high, No more to time and grief a prey,

Like you majestic orb of light,
Whose morning smile and evening ray
Can ouly quit the dreary night
To glory in a new-born day.

19X91

THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN.

By Mrs. Barbauld.

Yes, injured Woman! rise, assert thy right! Woman! too long degraded, scorned, opprest; O born to rule in partial Law's despite, Resume thy native empire o'er the breast!

On the 11th July-The FIRST STONE of the School for educating the poor children of the Established Church, was laid, with the usual ceremonies by Doctor Edwards, the Revd. L. Mathias, and the Subscribers:-it is placed on Mount-Sion on a piece of ground given by Lord Wodehouse, and the National society of London have granted assistance from their funds. It is intended to renew the number, above what are at present taught, to 150 boys and 150 girls.

This is the school which occasioned the" Controversy" a short time ago; and it is pleasing to see the principles so well advocated by an excellent contributor to this work in our for

mer numbers, “On the Diffusion of Knowledge" put in practice by enlightening the minds of our poor infant brethren in teaching them their duty to God and Man; and no doubt this Town will thus rise in social and mental improvement. To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe the inspiring spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.

THE WAY OF THE WORLD. Determin'd before hand,-we gravely pretend To ask the opinion and thought of a friend; Should his differ from ours upon any pretence, We pity his want both of judgment and sense; But if he fall in with and flatter our plan, Why really we think him a sensible man.

Go, gird thyself with grace; collect thy store
Of bright artillery glancing from afar;
Soft melting tones thy thundering cannon's roar,
Blushes and fears thy magazine of war.

Felt, not defined, and if debated, lost;
Thy rights are empire: urge no meaner claim,—
Like sacred mysteries, which withheld from fame,
Shunning discussion, are revered the most.

Try all that wit and art suggest to bend
Of thy imperial foe the stubborn knee;
Make treacherous Man thy subject not thy friend ;
Thou mayst command, but never canst be free.

Awe the licentious, and restrain the rude;
Soften the sullen, clear the cloudy brow:
Be, more than princes' gifts, thy favours sued;-
She hazards all, who will the least allow.

But hope uot, courted idol of mankind,
On this prond eminence secure to stay;
Subduing and subdued, thou soon shalt find
Thy coldness soften, and thy pride give way.

A GREAT WARRIOR

Is with but few exceptions, a greater Scourge to the human race, than plague, pestilence, and famine; he employs the talents with which his Maker has endowed him, not for the welfare, but destruction of his fellow creatures; and calls to his aid every hellish engine he can invent for that purpose. From the arch robber, and murderer of Macedonia, to the corsican usurper, whole nations have been plundered, butchered, and annihilated, for a falsely termed glory; how often has the ambition of a despot or the caprice of a woman, poured fifty thousand assassins on a peaceable and unoffending people. All history consists of little else than a record of human crimes, and deeds of men who delight in blood, lions, tigers, wolves, and all the monsters of the desert, are lambs when compared with man the lord of the creation.

'Beasts kill for hanger, man for prey.' Mankind seem to be considered by a conqueror, as figures on a chess board, made and created, merely for his pastime; and he feels no more for the miseries of his fellow creatures than the sword that inflicts them; his thirst for blood, like that of the tiger, is never to be quenched. The robber of a house, or the assassin of an individual is hanged as a malefactor; but as if nothing was criminal that is too great for punishment, the monster that lays waste whole kingdoms with fire and sword,

And fields of plenty, turn to fields of blood, calls his deeds glorious, and fame from the mouth of his flatterers, exalts him to the skies! The end of all his labors in the work of destruction, is the empty praise of one half of the world, and the curses of the other. Oh Napoleon! if millions of the spirits of the human race sacrificed on thy altars of ambition, cruelty and revenge, plead for justice at the throne of that God thou hast so often defyed, what remorse, what penance, what purgatory, can wash away thy offences, and expiate thy crimes.

Millions have fallen to glet thy lust of fame,
And millions live to execrate the name,

The thoughtless sing of honor's bed;
Where is this boasted honor found;
Is it in heaps of mangled dead?
Which spread the battle's field around!
19401

TO THE SETTING SUN.

Our rolling world may glide away from thee
Blest orb! as tho' unconscious of the scene,
And leaves herself in shades; but not so man :
The traveller hails thee as his friend, and dreads
To see thee put thy midnight garments on:
While he whose weary home-borne linibs asks rest
Will thank thee thus to leave thy long-trod walks,
And speak a darkened world to peaceful sleep.
-No tyrant monarch with an uplift hand,
Tho bearing sceptre that a world obeys,
Wonld dare command thy stay, to disappoint
His meanest slave of what thy sovreign Lord
Has bad thee leave to all mankind,-the shade.

Ah me! and what a world is this, that now
Begins to put its weeds of mourning on!
A

moment, and I saw thy brilliant head Shed life and joy around; but now alas! The scene assumes far other; thickest clonds

Enshrine, and fain would pillow thee to rest;

As tho' 'twere cruel to withdraw thy charms By sudden stroke from earth. Farewell sweet orb I ne'er may see thee more.

Oh! things of Time! How glide ye from a charm to odium, from A sweet to gall! How quickly set the suns

Of earth, in midnight gloom, and horror's shade, The flowers it yields, close up with chill of night And ope' again when happy morn shall dawn.

So change ye, and 'tis well, for heav'n alone
Has sun which ne'er will set, nor cloud shall hide;
Ye preach-" arise, for this is not your rest,"
Descend like thee, bright world! behind the cloud
O may I then, when my short course is run,
Of death, gilding the hemisphere around
With sweetest tints of glory's bursting ray:

Like thee, may guardian seraphs watch my bed!
And fan me with their wings, when faint in death,
And bear me thence to greater joys than thine!
Like thee desceud the tomb of cold dread night,
Beaming with hope of immortality,
When my short pause is past!

When glowing East
Brings thee to life to weeping earth again,
You rise,-but ah, alas! 'tis soon to set,
And that incessantly, 'till to expire:-
But I shall take my pillow in the grave,
And sleep secure whilst worlds shake o'er my head

Till sounds the trump, then burst to life again;

In vigour fresh, as new-born morning breeze

That wafts it o'er the soft embracing wave ;

Or, as a giant rising from his couch,

In strength renewed, goes forth to boast his arms!
While cloth'd in raiment from the upper world,
Shall shine eternally in rays like thine,
When thou shalt set, to dawn on earth no more.
Devonport, June 1826.
E. C.

THE WEATHER. THIS Summer has been so uncommon in regard to deficiency of Rain in the County of Cornwall that we consider it worthy of record in the-SELECTOR:

Since the 1st April very little Rain has fallen, particularly at Falmouth, the Grass generally has been burnt up, the poor Cattle have suffered extremely, and the cows have afforded very little milk: the Fruits of the Garden have fallen very short; and the vegetables, particularly, potatoes have been greatly hurt. The crops of grain are scanty, and though the wheat may be good, yet the whole must prove light in quantity. Many wells and most ponds have been dry,-and had there not been since 4th July some refreshing Rain, the rise in Provisions must have increased and have fallen still heavier on numerous families. The oldest man in and about Falmouth does not remember a similar drought to have prevailed in the same early months of the season.

The following is an extract from 1st April of a diurnal Meteorological Register kept on Mount-Sion; which may be useful in the comparison with distant places. viz, In the morning of 1st April it appeared there had been a Frost in the night, and at 9 o'clock the Thermometer 34. wind S. S. E.-All the rest of April, Therm: ranged from 49 to 59. Barometer 29. 38 to 30. 36. one short storm of wind and rain and only 4 trifling showers. In May the Therm: ranged from 45 to 66 and Barom: 29. 64 to 30. 28. with only 6 trifling showers. In June, the Therm: ranged from 60 to 80. and Barom: 29. 84 to 30. 43. No shower except on 9th a passing storm of Lightning Hail and and Rain for an hour. The prevailing wind for the 3 months N. W. but veering at short times round the compass.

On 4th July refreshing showers began, and since then variable weather, showers, sunshine stiff breezes.

Thus in 94 days, a few showers only, so trifling as scarcely to be felt on the hilly rocky soil of this county.

BIRTHS-IN JUNE.

At Falmouth, Mr. W. R. Broad, of a daughter. At Falmouth, the wife of Lieut. Jennings, of a daughter.

At Helston, Mrs. Cunnack, of a son,
At Helston, Mrs. Pascoe, of a son.
At Hayle, Mrs. J. T. Mullett, of a daughter.
At Padstow, Mrs. Docton, of a daughter.
At Bodmin, Mrs. Deunis, of a daughter.
At East Looe, Mr. J. Martyn of a son.

At East Looe, wife of the Revd. Mr. James, of a daughter.

IN JULY.

1

At St. Austle, Mrs. Burnley of a son. At St. Austle, Mrs. Isabell, of a son.

At St. Neot Vicarage, the lady of Revd. H.
Grylls, of a son.

At Peuryn, wife of Capt. Nicholls, of a daughter
At Truro, Mrs. Harris, of a son.
At Truro, Mrs. Pront, of a daughter.
At Redruth, Mrs. Harris, of twins, son and
daughter.

At Redruth, Mrs. Ede, of a son.
At Penryn, Mrs. Sherwell, of a son.
At St. Columb, Mrs. G. Higgs, of twins.
At Marazion, Mrs. Millet, of a son.
At Penzance, Mrs. W. Pearce, of a son.
At Penzance, Mrs. Hewett, of a son.

MARRIAGES-IN JUNE.

At Jersey, Charles Pipon, Esq. Commander of
H. M. P. Lord Sidmouth, to Mies A. Lempriere.
At Egloshayle, Mr. W. Hawken, to Miss Cory.
At Camborne, Mr. J. Budge, to Miss James.
At Stratton, Mr. Ridgman, to Mrs. Prust.
At Falmouth, Mr. J. Hallamore, to Miss Thomas.
IN JULY.

At Redruth, Mr. S. Martin, Junr. to Miss M.
Teagne.

At St. Columb, Lient. J. Saunders, to Miss Mary Ann Johns.

At Falmouth, Mr. J. Joseph, to Miss Alexander.
At St. Hillary, Mr. J. Broad, to Miss M. A.
Richards.

At Redruth, Mr. R. Tremby, to Miss G. Mitchell.
At Redruth, Mr. Penrose, to Miss Farren.
At Truro, Mr. Peter Rogers, to Miss G. Roberts.
At Truro, Mr. R. Pearce, to Miss S Penneck.
At Rame, Dr. J. Cook, R. N. to Miss H. M.
Rowe.

At Penryn, Mr. H. J. Box, to Miss L. Hanson.
DEATHS-IN JUNE.

At Penzance, Mr. Edward Paynter, aged 28.
At St. Ives, Capt. Pearce, aged 84.
At Marazion, Miss M. Michell, aged 9.
At Lariggan, near Penzance, R. Millet Esq.
At Wadebridge, Mr. T. Thomas, Tailor.
At Redruth, Mrs. Eathorne.
At Redruth, Mr. R. Coad.
At St. Columb, Mrs. C. Roberts, aged 90.
At St. Hillary, Mr, F. James, aged 65.
At Penzance, Mrs. Williams, aged 73.
At Penzance, Mr. Tonkin, aged 79.
At Penzance, Mr. M. Smith. aged 82.
IN JULY.

At Falmouth, infant daughter of Mr. Philp.
At Penzance, Mrs. Weaver, aged 72.
At Falmouth, J. Price, Esq. H. M. Packet
Duke of York.

At Launceston, Mr. J. Robinson.
At Fowey, Mr. Joseph Thomas.
At Agues, Mr. Charles Lander, aged 76.
At St. Austle, Miss C. Geach.

At St. Austle, Mrs. Polglass, aged 74.
At Marazion, Mrs. Tyack, aged 88.
At Truro, the wife of Mr. Pearce, Innkeeper:
At Penzance, the wife of S. Pidwell, Esq.
At Gulval Miss E. Phillips, aged 68.
At St. Anthony passage, Mr. T. Martin.
At Falmouth, Capt. Cotesworth, late of H. M.
Packet service.

At Camelford, James, son of Mr. Roberts.
At Lawbitton, Parsonage Rev. Mr. Marshall.

Printed and Published by J. Philp, Falmouth, and sold by most Booksellers in the County.

No. 9.1

THE HILL OF SCIENCE.

A VISION.

BY MRS. BARBAULD.

In that season of the year when the serenity of the sky, the various fruits which cover the ground, the discoloured foliage of the trees, and all the sweet but fading graces of inspiring autumn open the mind to benevolence, and dispose it for contemplation; I was wandering in a beautiful and romantic country, till curiosity began to give way to weariness; and I sat me down on the fragment of a rock overgrown with moss, where the rustling of the falling leaves, the dashing of waters, and the hum of the distant city, soothed my mind into the most perfect tranquility; and sleep insensibly stole upon me, as I was indulging the agreeable reveries which the objects around me naturally inspired.

I immediately found myself in a vast extended plain, in the middle of which arose a mountain higher than I had before any conception of. It was covered with a multitude of people, chiefly youth; many of whom pressed forwards with the liveliest expression of ardour in their countenance, though the way was in many places steep and difficult. I observed that those who had but just begun to climb the hill, thought themselves not far from the top: but as they proceeded, new hills were continually rising to their view; and the summit of the highest they could before discern, seemed but the foot of another, till the mountain at length appeared to lose itself in the clouds. As I was gazing on these things with astonishment, my good genius suddenly appeared. "The mountain before thee," said he, "is

[Price 3d.

the hill of Science. On the top is the temple of Truth, whose head is above the clouds, and whose face is covered with a veil of pure light. Observe the progress of her votaries; be silent, and attentive."

I saw the only regular approach to the mountain was by a gate called the gate of languages. It was kept by a woman of a pensive and thoughtful appearance, whose lips were continually moving, as though she repeated something to herself. Her name was Memory. On entering this first inclosure I was stunned with a confused murmur of jarring voices and dissonant sounds; which increased upon me to such a degree, that I was utterly counfounded, and could compare the noise to nothing but the confusion of tongues at Babel. The road was also rough and stony, and rendered more difficult by heaps of rubbish continually tumbled down from the higher parts of the mountain, and by broken ruins of ancient buildings, which the travellers were obliged to climb over at every step; insomuch that many, disgusted with so rough a beginning, turned back, and attempted the mountain no more while others, having conquered this difficulty, had no spirits to ascend further, and sitting down on some fragment of the rubbish, harangued the multitude below with the greatest marks of importance and self-complacency.

About half way up the hill, I observed on each side of the path a thick forest covered with continual fogs, and cut out into labyrinths, cross alleys, and serpentine walks, entangled with thorns and briars. This was called the wood of Error, and I heard the voices

of many who were lost up and down in it, calling to one another, and endeavouring in vain to extricate themselves. The trees in many places shot their boughs over the path, and a thick mist often rested on it; yet never so much but that it was discernible by the light which beamed from the countenance of Truth.

In the pleasantest part of the mountain were placed the bowers of the Muses, whose office it was to cheer the spirits of the travellers, and encourage their fainting steps with songs from their divine harps. Not far from hence were the fields of Fiction, filled with a variety of wild flowers springing up in the greatest luxuriance, of richer scents and brighter colours than I had observed in any other climate. And near them was the dark walk of Allegory, so artificially shaded, that the the light at noonday was never stronger than that of a bright moonshine. This gave it a pleasingly romantic air for those who delighted in contemplation. The paths and alleys were perplexed with intricate windings, and were all terminated with the statue of a Grace, a Virtue, or a Muse.

After I had observed these things, I turned my eyes towards the multitudes who were climbing the steep ascent, and observed amongst them a youth of a lively look, a piercing eye, and something fiery and irregular in all his motions. His name was Genius. He darted like an eagle up the mountain, and left his companions gazing after him with envy and admiration: but his progress was unequal, and interrupted by a thousand caprices. When Pleasure warbled in the valley, he mingled in her train. When Pride beckoned towards the precipice, he ventured to the tottering edge. delighted in devious and untried paths, and made so many excursions from the road, that his feebler companions often outstripped him. I observed that the Muses beheld him with partiality; but Truth often frowned and turned aside her. face. While Genius was thus wasting his strength in eccentric flights, I saw a person of a very different appearance, named Application. lie crept along with a slow and unremit

He

ting pace, his eyes fixed on the top of the mountain, patiently removing every stone that obstructed his way, till he saw most of those below him who had at first derided his slow and toilsome progress. Indeed there were few who ascended the hill with equal and uninterrupted steadiness; for, beside the difficulties of the way, they were continually solicited to turn aside by a numerous crowd of Appetites, Passions, and Pleasures, whose importunity, when they had once complied with, they became less and less able to resist; and, though they often returned to the path, the asperities of the road were more severely felt, the hill appeared more steep and rugged, the fruits which were wholesome and refreshing, seemed harsh and ill-tasted, their sight grew dim, and their feet tripped at every little obstruction.

I saw, with some surprise, that the Muses, whose business was to cheer and encourage those who were toiling up the ascent, would often sing in the bowers of Pleasure, and accompany those who were enticed away at the call of the Passions. They accompanied them, however, but a little way, and always forsook them when they lost sight of the hill. Their tyrants then doubled their chains upon the unhappy captives, and led them away without resistance to the cells of Ignorance, or the mansions of Misery. Amongst the innumerable seducers who were endeavouring to draw away the votaries of Truth from the path of Science, there was one so little formidable in her appearance, and so gentle and languid in her attempts, that I could scarcely have taken notice of her, but for the numbers she had imperceptibly loaded with her chains. Indolence (for so she was called,) far from proceeding to open hostilities, did not attempt to turn their feet out of the path, but contented herself with retarding their progress; and the purpose she could not force them to abandon, she persuaded them to delay. Her touch had a power like that of the torpedo, which withered the strength of those who came within its influence. Her unhappy captives still turned their faces towards the temple, and always