endowment communicates to the man, and leave his native city, and the other to absent of Oxford, which was the means of her MISCELLANY. Integrity. THE first great maxim of human conduct, that which it is all important to impress on the understanding of young men, and recommend to their hearty adoption, is, that in all circumstances, and under every emergency, to preserve a clean heart, and an honest purpose. Integrity, firm integrity, is that quality which, of all others, raises man to the highest dignity of his nature, and fits him to adorn and bless the sphere in which he is appointed to move. Without it neither genius nor learning, neither the gifts of God, nor human exertion, can avail aught for the accomplishment of the great objects of human existence. Integrity is the crowning virtue, integrity is the pervading principle, which ought to regulate, to guide, control and vivify every impulse and action. Honesty is sometimes spoken of as a vulgar virtue, and perhaps that honesty, which barely refrains from outraging the positive rules ordained by society for the protection of property, and which ordinarily pays its debts and performs its engagements; however useful and commendable a quality, is not to be numbered among the highest efforts of human virtue. But that integrity which, however tempting the opportunity, or however secure against detection, no selfishness nor resentment, no lust of power, place, favor,profit or pleasure, can cause to swerve from the strict rule of right, is the perfection of man's moral nature. In this sense the poet was right, when he pronounced an honest man, the noblest of God.' It is almost inconceivable what an erect and independent spirit this high Portrait-painting must ever be the pioneer of more exalted art-the forerunner of an elevated taste, which admires eminent art for its own sake-valuing the beautiful reflection of unseen and perfect nature, more than the resemblance of a particular individual object. In this country it has done much toward introducing such a taste; and in Philadelphia, some of the highest talent of the age has been devoted to this department. Here, West first flourished as a portrait-painter-Copley produced his beautiful pictures, and Stewart painted here artists who now have worthy followers in Rembrandt Peale, Sully, Neagle and Inman. Need I say more for the art, that, in the hands of Stewart, permits posterity to stand in the presence of Washington ;-while Sully, places before us the generous Lafayetteand, in this vast household of liberty, makes the remotest descendants familiar with the forms and faces of those who laid down all for their country, that it might be dear to their children. Devoted Attachment. HABIT and confinement will cause beasts and birds of the most opposite nature to herd together, and even become attached, but it is somewhat singular to see a powerful sympathy exist between animals in a state of perfect freedom, who are almost as remote in their genus as the bird and the fish, Then is the crisis of the young man's fate A singular instance, however, is to be then is the time to take his stand, to seize seen any day in the third avenue, in the his vantage ground. If he can then defy the devoted attachment of a fine young Newallurements of cupidity, sensuality and ambi-foundland dog, and an old worn out horse. tion, the laugh of fools, the arts of parasites, and the contagion of improbity; then, indeed, may he hope, In sight of mortal and immortal powers, And through the mists of passion and of sense, GASTON'S ADDRESS. Portrait-Painting. To every department of the arts America has furnished names that honor it. In landscape-painting, for which our country has such eminent advantages, we have artists competent to represent our scenes-the pictures of Doughty and Cole have a character decidedly American. The former infuses into his picture all that is quiet and lovely, romantic and beautiful in nature; the other imparts to his canvass the grandeur, the wild magnificence of mountain scenery. The landscapes of Fisher are well known, and deservedly esteemed, and those of Birch present us rural life, and rural scenes, as they are familiar to our eyes-his waterviews are unsurpassed in excellence. It is much to be regretted that the splendid talents of the two first mentioned artists, should be so poorly rewarded as to allow the first to A gentleman of this city, among many horses, lately had one that served him long and faithfully, and being past work, sent him down to Mr. Daniel Flynn's, near Yorkville, to wear out the little remainder of his life in good pasture. After being turned out for this purpose two or three days, a fine large Newfoundland dog, who had been accustomed to the veteran, missed his old friend from his accustomed stall, and by some strong instinct, traced him to his pasture field. No sooner had he found him than he seemed resolved they never again should part. He immediately took up his quarters with him in the open field, and has never left him morning, noon or night. This quadruped Damon and Pythias, may be seen together any day at Flynn's, and it is somewhat curious to observe the care and attention with which the dog guards and watches the old horse. While he grazes, his faithful friend lies down to rest, and when he has finished and reposed on the grass, the watch dog' moves around him like a sentry on his post, nor will he allow any one to approach. For a time the dog was almost starved, for his faithful attendance was not observed by any who could cater for him, but when it became known, not only did his owner permit him to follow his inclination, but the horse's BY MRS, P. W. BELL. happiness. He who dwells in a lonely valley believes happiness resides in the crowded city among company and books; while he who sings amid the rattle of other men's chariot-wheels, and the smoke of ten thousand chimneys, fixes the abode of happiness by the side of some purling brook-beside a green hill, where the wind is ever fragrant, and the voice of nature alone is heard. The high-born bard, sick of the hollow courtesies of polished society, sighs for pastoral solitudes, where flowers never fade, and flocks entertainer became the dog's provider, and graces of your master or mistress, be careful now his daily meals are taken to him in the to shut the door. Whether you come in or field, for no coaxing or entreaty can inducego out, whether you stay two hours, two him to come within the house, or leave his minutes, or two seconds, shut the door after ancient friend for even an hour. How few you.-Never think it an excuse for leaving such disinterested attachments can be found the door open, because you are not going to among men man boasts himself far superior stay forever. Consider-if you have any to the brute, yet how often is reason thus ad- consideration about you-that more heat will monished by instinct.-New-York Traveler. escape in one minute, from an open door in a cold day, than the warmest stoves (not Man and Woman. excepting Dr. Nott himself,) can supply in ten. Leaving the door open in a cold winter's THERE is a moral depravity, a coarse licen-day, is, and should be, held good and sufficient never stray, and beauty is never out of reason for cutting one's acquaintance. Better blossom; the shepherd bard, on the other get rid of people who take the liberty of hand, who has to wander over moors and making you uncomfortable, than by retaining mountains, half-choked in winter with drifting their acquaintance, perpetuate your discom- snow, and half-scorched in summer with fort.-As for a servant who leaves the door burning suns-who has to smear and clip his open, whether man or maid, he or she should flocks, as well as keep them from the fox, and be made scarce. We know not, indeed, save them, too, from smothering in a snow whether an incorrigible habit of leaving the wreath, envies the opulent and longs to be a door open, should not be considered sufficient lord. There was some sense in the remark ground, in man or wife, for obtaining a divorce. of a Scotchman, who in reading the saying tiousness in the nature of man, that is wholly foreign from the female character; and of which, nothing is a stronger proof, than the unvarying constancy with which women will adhere to the objects of their early attachments, even after they excite nothing but disgust in every other bosom. Man, on the contrary, is seldom so permanently attached but he can turn aside and dally, through mere เ Both Deaf and Dumb. 6 at wantonness, with any wandering waif who From the New-York Transcript. เ Why,' was 6 of Solomon, Snow is beautiful in its season," exclaimed, Aye, nae doubt it was beautiful to you, sitting with the rich wines and the lasses o' Jerusalem aside you; but had ye been a poor stone-mason ye would hae said no such thing.' A YANKEE who was traveling, lately, put up at a country inn, where a number of loungers were assembled, telling large stories. After sitting some time and attentively listening to their folly, he suddenly turned and asked them how much they supposed he had been offered for his dog which he had with DrTTO.-An honest farmer, rather ignorant him. They all started, and curiosity was on one guessed five dollars, of the approved method of writing by abbre-tiptoe to know; viation, went to a certain store, with which another ten, another fifteen, until they had he did his trading, to make his annual exhausted their patience, when one of them settlement. On looking over, he occasionly seriously asked how much he had been found charges like the following: To 1 lb. offered. Not a cent, replied he. Tea'' to 1 lb. Ditto.' Not knowing the Two thieves were on their way to Tyburn meaning of the term ditto, he concluded the account was not correct, and posted off home in different carts; one had been condemned to inquire into the affair. Wife, says he, this for stealing a mare, the other had stolen a is pretty business, there is Mr.has watch. What o'clock is it by your watch? Just about charged me with pounds and pounds of ditto. said the former to his brother. POPE never wrote a more important line Now I should like to know what you have time for you to water you mare,' was the than the above, nor one which, at this season done with so much ditto? Ditto, ditto, reply. of the year, should receive more close and replied the old lady, I never had a pound of undivided attention. Every body, young and ditto in the house since the Lord. So back old, halt and blind, gentle and simple, should went the farmer in high dudgeon that he pay attention to the precept. No one is so should be charged with things he simple but he can understand it; and no one received. Mr. says he, my wife says we is so gentle that he should think of neglecting never had a pound of ditto in the house since it. It is a coal-saving, wood-preserving, the Lord. The merchant thereupon explained comfort-bringing, temper-insuring precept. the meaning of the term, and the farmer went Warmth depends upon observing it; comfort home satisfied. On his return his wife depends upon warmth; and good temper inquired if he found out what ditto meant. depends upon comfort.-For six months in Yes, said he, it means I'm a darn'd fool and every year this precept should be borne in your are ditto. constant remembrance. When keen blows the wind, and piercing is the cold,' it should never for a single moment be forgotten. Are you a servant, John, or Betty, or whatever your name may be, and wish to keep your place either in the house, or in the good Happiness. never I would form perhaps one of the most amusing, if not the most instructive chapters in the poetic history, to compare the various opinions expressed by the inspired respecting Letters Containing Remittances, Received at this Office, ending Wednesday last, deducting the amount of Postage paid. R. S. Cold Water, M. T. $1,00; E. G. jr. Leyden, N. Y. $1,00; L. H. Brattleboro, Vt. $1,00; J. F. Taghkanick, N. Y. $1,00; M. A. M. Yates, N. Y. $1,00; J. O. T. $2,00; P. M. Cazenovia, N. Y. 85,00; L. 9. H. C. Athol, Ms. $1,00. Cooperstown, N. Y. $1,00; H. G. Glen's Falls, N. Y. MARRIED, At Albany, on the 23 inst. by the Rev. Mr. Myers, Mr. William Holsapple, of Ghent, to Miss Eva Christina Rossman, of this city. DIED, years, grand daughter of Mr. Gershom Olds. Suddenly, on the 15th inst. at the residence of James K. Van Ness, esq. in Ancram, Dwight Storrs, in the 30th this city. year of his age, eldest son of the late Amariah Storrs, of On groves and fountains, rocks and trees, Ranged on that war-clad plain, While from the serried thousands there Broke forth in shouts that met the air, The battle song of Spain. ORIGINAL POETRY. On, on to Grenada, lead, lead to the fight! PRIZE POEM. Written for the Rural Repository by Edwin H. Chapin. The breeze, from lofty palm-groves borne, Had touched the distant mountains gray, Of rock, and river, fount and plain, The signs of death and battle stern. A drear defile, a huge morass, A watch-tower in a mountain pass, And near its walls, a mosque o'erthrown, And harshly broke upon the ear Our swords for the battle, are ready and bright, Up, up with your banners ye men of Castile! "Tis for vengeance, and glory, and freedom, and Spain ! The dreadful deeds of that famed day? With the down-trodden,' Knights and Grooms, The dying, and the dead; Of Spain's loud war-notes, rising o'er Of shout that loud of triumph tells; Of ringing plate and steel, Of splintered corselet, battered casque; Vengeance for vengeance due; Of woman's shriek and startling cry, 'Strike for Castile! St. James for Spain !' 'Allah il Allah hu! Of deadly thrusts and rain-like blows; Of death-cold brow, and deep-gashed breast, The Spaniard trod the Alhambra halls, The blow was struck, the deed was done, Grenada from the Moslem won! Bennington, Vt. 1834. From the Albany Argus. To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.' There's a season of joy-when life is new, 'Tis a time to sow the precious seed, To root from the soil each poisonous weed, THE RURAL REPOSITORY. IS PUBLISHED EVERY OTHER SATURDAY, AT HUDSON, N. Y. BY Wm. B. Stoddard. It is printed in the Quarto form, and will contain twenty-six numbers of eight pages each, with a title page and index to the volume. TERMS.-One Dollar per annum in advance, or One Dollar and Fifty Cents, at the expiration of three months from the time of subscribing. Any person, who will remit us Five Dollars, free of postage, shall receive siz copies, and any person, who will remit us Ten Dollars, free of postage, shall receive twelve copies and one copy of the ninth or tenth volumes. No subscriptions received for less than one year. All orders and Communications must be post paid to receive attention. VOL. XI. [II. NEW SERIES.] LBS. ORIGINAL TALES. For the Rural Repository. A TALE OF THE LAST WAR. By William Piatt. NO. 19. general receptacle till it overwhelmed its the sun, Henry Henderson became, even in banks and carried onward every barrier in the hours of his boyhood, the glory and the its way. Nature had spread around all that pride of all who loved merriment or honored The Wife of the Susquehannah, was beautiful and grand-the castern side of virtue. None was fleeter in the chase-none the river presented a wide extended plain, held a steadier aim-none more fearless in . covered with all that was calculated to delight the pursuit of the wild game that hid itself in the husbandman's eye-with every variety of the deep recesses of the wilds which were meadow and of grove. From the cominanding contiguous to his domicil. On this favorite, eminence on which the mansion already who had now been long absent from his home, described was erected, the varied scenery might be traced for many miles with scarcely an obstruction to the view. 'What praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving woman?' SHAKSPEARE. THERE might have been seen, about the year 1811, on a gentle eminence, which overlooked the Susquehannah river, near the junction of its northern and western branches, the white front of a mansion of simple grandeur, closely embowered within a thick grove of elms and sugar maple; though now, there scarcely remains a vestige of an abode, which, at the time our story opens, was distinguished for its beauty of location and the hospitality of its inmates. Rich orchards. of various kinds of fruit, dotted the green ascent-or, stretching downward toward the river, gay meadows marked the open lawns, while the walnut and the oak mingled their verdure and cast their shadows over a varied and undulating landscape for miles around, interrupted, in the distance, by blue ridges of highland, the summits of which were covered with the wild-chesnut and mountainpine, while the ravines were shadowed by the dark foliage of the hemlock tree. Northward and westward from this mansion, high and mountainous crags lifted their gray peaks to the sky, or projecting over the river, (which here, diverging from a direct line, swept around their bases) they seemed as if ready to crumble into fragments and bury beneath their ruins, whatever or whoever might have the temerity to venture too near them. Occasionally, through broken ravines, the gurgling waters danced from rock to rock, or sweeping beneath some massy pile, meandered along their sunken courses, until falling into the river's channel, they mingled their tribute to the many thousand springs that roved onward toward the ocean. Their summer windings were gentle and enlivening; but in the spring of the year, they seemed only to have traced a line in which the thawing snows of winter rushed in wild torrents, sweeping every thing before them, and swelling their every attention had been lavished-and the wearisome toil of a progressive education, under the auspices of his kind and venerated parents, was already drawn to its scholastic close. Day by day he was expected to throw his collegiate honors into the lap of his parents; and one heart throbbed more intensely perhaps than all others to hear that he had won them by assiduity and faithfulness to his studies. Mr. Henderson, the proprietor of the seat, had been in his younger days what is emphatically termed a bon vivant; but marrying, in the midst of his career of pleasure, an amiable lady, whose devotion to him overlooked his follies, and whose influence overcame his propensities, he had retired This being must here be introduced-it from the gay world and sought in this rural was Helen Hargrave-the companion of his retreat the comforts of a domestic life, infant sports-the joy of his boyish hoursuntrammeled by the cares of the busy world the loved of his heart-and the betrothed of abroad. His talents had insured him respect. his affections. Helen was an orphan, but the and his open, generous heart soon drew generous and truly great spirit of Mr. around him the many, who, though in humble Henderson looked only to her virtues, and he condition themselves, always appreciate that felt proud that his son had thought worthy which is noble in their superiors. He was of one he himself so much esteemed. He looked upon in his vicinity as the conservator encouraged their passion, and felt that an of the peace, and many of the misunder-early settlement in life would afford to Henry, standings of his neighborhood were quieted in the possession of this beautiful and amiable by an appeal to his decision. The poor girl, all the happiness that man could wish for, around him enjoyed the benefits of his and open a field for any subsequent operation harvest fields and their merry-makings at the of his ambition without being beset by the harvest home' were always enlivened by snares which often encompass the young and his presence and the bounties which his the unsettled. Helen was a warm-heartedgenerosity bestowed. His lady too, the a beautiful-a confiding creature. Her dark pattern of all that was innocent and valuable eyes were capable of emitting sparks of living the pattern of every domestic virtue, was light-and her raven tresses were such as the esteemed, nay loved, by all whose poverty poets would glory to have sonnetized. Her made them associates, or whose affluence form was graceful, tall and elastic-and the made them guests. One child was the only smile that often played upon her brunette issue of their love; on him they doated with features was as rich as the rainbow sporting all the fondness that parents can feel for a in the evening clouds. She loved Henry with beloved and only offspring-that offspring ali of a woman's tenderness-their vows were too, was the eulogized of every tongue in the reciprocal, and with a panting heart she saw neighborhood. With a disposition as mild from the mansion balcony the gay carriage as the lustre of an evening's placid sky-with which brought the idol of her soul to the a heart as open as the free and translucent vicinity of her caresses. Henry came; let stream upon whose margin he first witnessed us pass over his reception-let us not look 6 Henry Henderson, as I live,' was the reply of Jones as he grasped it eagerly, my dear boy, I'm happy to see you-if I have missed the partridge-I have at least started less shy game-why, you are sadly altered. Do you live hereabouts?' That house upon the hill, Ned, was my father's.' upon his sunken cheeks, the effect of deep the feelings with which his whole frame was at sunrise. But no more of this. What · Indeed there was a thrill throughout the frame of Henry, as the ejaculation escaped, for there was a foreboding something came over his fancies which while it seemed irresistible made him shudder. Are you known here?' I ask-betray not my secret, and despatch me to some distant post as soon as possible. I might do all this myself, but while here, I should like to dispose of the bounty.' You amaze me Henderson-do you not jest?" 'On my honor I do not.' 'My God, how strange!' reflected Jones to himself. Have you a wife, Henry?' 'I have—yes, yes—I have,' and he spoke with emotion.' Why then would you leave her?' No matter why; my last care shall be for her when abroad my pay shall be her support. Do not compel me to say more. This night must attach me to the fortunes of war.' They soon after separated, and as the shades of evening gradually spread over the surrounding fields, Henry Henderson sought his wretched home with the bounty of his servitude ready to cast into the lap of her for whom alone he felt that life was worth enduring. Helen met him at the threshold of the little dwelling whither she had retired when all of grandeur was gone but the unfading lustre of virtue, and a smile lit up her features as she threw her arms around his neck, and printed a kiss upon his lips, that told him he was all that the world had left her yet that she was happy even that he was left. Henry felt all her kindness, and on this one evening he appeared before her without one symptom of inebriety, though his pale features betrayed a sadness that threw its melancholy shade for a moment over the brows of Helen, but reflecting for an instant that it was now her task to soothe and to comfort his sorrows, she assumed a gaiety which while it cost herself a struggle, only added a deeper pang to the bosom she sought to heal. You have been away all day, Henry; why have you remained so late?' No matter Helen; I have been engaged. Out of the wreck of all, I have managed to obtain a small sum for your immediate use. 'I am not, and shall tax your patience for In a few days I shall depart from this.' some introductions.' 'Depart!' exclaimed the astonished wife, depart! oh whither? you will not leave me Henry?' * For a time I must-perhaps to-morrow. To-morrow-so soon too-and whither Do not, I beseech you. Edward, you see 'I have a distant relative who has often sur-invited me to visit him. He is wealthy, and without a child-perhaps he may assist me in some manner that will enable me to retrieve my fallen fortunes.' 'Alas!' said he, ‘and it is all gone !—What is there left for me now on this wide earth, but the harrowing consciousness, that in working my own ruin I have drawn down with me to beggary and wretchedness, a heart Enlistment!' echoed the officer in devotedly my own-a being whose forgiving|| prise, I have not even heard of it.' siniles even now plant daggers in my soul. Nor am I yet enlisted, but I shall be a Oh, Helen, Helen! were it not for thee I could dash heedless into the desperate mazes of life-struggle my way onward,' and pausing. he added with gloomy effect, no matter to what bourne. Oh, desperation! desperation, to what horror do you counsel me?' He threw himself upon the earth and gave vent to recruit of yours.' Poh! folly. I did but jest, and you perhaps jeer me for casting my musty old volumes into as musty a chamber-choosing to wear regimentals in preference to making a brief.' Alas Henry' she could utter no more but burst into tears. Nay Helen, chide me not-alas, I know too well of my weakness. Oh God! have I Not I, by heaven! Jones, I have resolved, not striven with the fiend-have I not struggled you must enrol me; but one thing in mercy as a drowning mau for life, to be free-but |