So, may thy mercy gild the gloom Of destiny severe, Sustain the sufferer to the tomb And dry affliction's tear." After her return home, she faithfully and successfully engaged in the instruction of young ladies, with an associate, whom, from her own school-days, she had continued to love, and the time passed usefully and happily. She, and this friend, with some of their pupils, became boarders Heaven has to few, the envied gift assign'd Nor sad remembrance moves one mournful friend? No more from Virtue's sacred bound to stray, Then weakly yield to vanity again, in the house of her sister, and the consciousness wrote the following stanzas. EPITAPH ON MYSELF. "Stranger! beneath this stone, in silence sleeps, What once had animation, reason, life; And while in vain, the eye of friendship weeps The bosom rests, unvex'd by mortal strife. No more the smiles of joy illume the face, Nor health's fair roses on the check shall bloom, Of sprightly youth, they gleam not o'er the tomb. And power and wealth and honor pass away. Nor wrap thy heart in hoards of glittering store, He points his shaft, and greatness is no more. And imperfections all thine actions stain, That tells such bed shall shortly be thine own. Earth's glittering store, and mortal's fitful praise, Approach, and on my tomb-stone read,-they're vain." Still more effectually to shelter the widowed sister, and her two children, her parents left their pleasant mansion, and became inmates under her roof,-and the subject of this memoir, relinquishing for a time, her school,-devoted her whole being to their comfort,-and to such social, intellectual and benevolent pursuits, as her native taste and her sense of religious responsibility dictated. While she systematically applied a portion of her time to historical, philosophical and theological reading, her journal amid the careful analysis of authors, or her own opinion on matters of serious import, mingles such little traits as the following,which will interest those who prize the excellence of woman, in the order and economy of a household. 66 Rose, and prepared breakfast for the family;"-"spent a part of this day in housewifery;"-"passed several hours in watering in the garden ;"-" busily engaged with my needle ;"-" employed a portion of the morning in gathering corn, with Thompson's beautiful description of Autumn almost constantly in my mind, and that passage often on my lips, 'Think, oh, think! The shadow of grief was slow in lifting itself from her spirit. Indeed, it is doubtful whether its effects ever wholly passed away. For, though she returned to life's duties, there was about her that utter chastisement of earthly hope,-that sublimation of the soul, whether in sorrow, or in joy, which ever looks upward for its perfect rest. With the most earnest assiduity she strove to comfort her widowed parent,-and for her sake preserved cheerfulness of deportment, and took the smile again upon her beautiful brow,-but it was not like her former smile. It was that of a spirit, ripened for a better clime, having its treasures already garnered up there. The last voice of her lyre, (so far as it is known,) was a fragment, touching, not only from its brokenness, but because it was the last. "My father Twelve long months have wing'd their flight, The fond indulgence of parental love, My heart's best treasure, would not leave me long How good the God of harvest is to you!" Though her attachment to her parents, relatives, and chosen friends, was so great, that she emphatically lived for them, more than for herself,-it had been evident from infancy that the love of her father was peculiar, and predominant. In their intellectual tastes, there existed a strong congeniality, he had made himself from childhood the companion of her pleasures, as well as her studies, and when to the weight of advancing years, was added the pressure of adverse fortune, her affection became inexpressibly tender and pervading. It was a touching mixture of deep respect, and fond devotedness,-a delight in his company, a desire to protect him from all anxiety, an in-dwelling of his image in her perpetual thought. To the friend who shared her entire confidence, she sometimes expressed the feeling that she should never be able to survive him. But sudden and fearful sickness came. Night and day she watched without consciousness of fatigue,-she was unwilling that any hand save her own, should prepare or administer medicine and nourishment. When the finished work of the Destroyer became but too visible, she was determined not to leave his pillow while breath remained,-but, "Oh!" said she, "can I endure to hear his last groan!" Having never seen Death, she supposed it always attended with convulsion and agony, and had nerved herself for the terrific scene. But when she beheld the quiet, peaceful dissolution, and was assured by the physicians that the spirit had indeed departed, she clasped her hands with the exclation, "Can this be death!" and every emotion was for a time absorbed in gratitude to Him who had so gently removed her father and her friend. She clung closely to the beloved dead,-but shed no tear. "How beautiful are those features!" she often murmured,-but no tear from her burning eyes moistened them. The knell, at which she was wont to weep, when it tolled even for strangers,-the great concourse that mournfully assembled to do honor to the deceased, -the pathetic prayers from revered lips,-the sullen grave closing upon the beloved form-discriminating mind apprehending the result, drew no tear. Friends watched her with intense arranged every minute circumstance of care and anxiety, strangers wondered at her composure, occupation, like one who returns no more. "I she returned from the funeral solemnities,-and have no wish for longer life," said she, "but for she sat down silently by the deserted hearth- my dear mother's sake." As the disease develstone, in the very chair of the dead father, oped its dark features, "Lay me," she directed, still there was no tear. It was not 'till after-"when I am dead, by the side of my father." wards, when induced to pour out her soul into the bosom of friendship, that she found the blessed relief of tears. Veiling her sorrows, that they might not darken the pathway of the remaining objects of her affection, she still labored for the improvement of the pupils, whose education she conducted, sought to be the stay of her widowed mother and sister, and by every means in her power, promoted the welfare of the fatherless children. The reading of serious poetry, formed the principal solace of the few intervals of leisure, which she allowed herself, but its composition was laid aside, after his departure, who had been her prompting spirit. Somewhat more than two years, after this event, she was taken ill of a fever. The first attack seemed slight, but her Apprehending that the delirium, so often incidental to the disease, might overpower her, she drew her sister down to her pillow, and 1 whispered, "I have many things to say to you. Let me say them now, or perhaps, I may not be able. You know how much I have loved you. Seek an interest in our Saviour. Promise me that you will seek religion, that you will prepare to follow me. For, oh, I never before felt so happy. Soon shall I be in that world, "Where rising floods of knowledge roll, And so, with many other kind and sweet words, and messages to absent friends, and communings with the Hearer of prayer,-passed away, on the 26th of March, 1816, at the age of 24,—as lovely a spirit as ever wore the vestments of mortality,—so lovely, that the friend who from life's opening pilgrimage, had walked with her in the intimacy of a twin-being, can remember no intentional fault, no careless deviation from duty, and no shadow of blemish, save what must ever appertain to dimmed, and fallen humanity. Original. THE GRAVE IN THE WILDERNESS. WRITTEN IN FLORIDA. BY LIEUT. G. W. PATTEN, U. s. A. WHILE dimly sinks the Southern sun, I stand beside the grave of one Unknown to minstrel lay; And as the dim wood wakes its strings, I almost think on shadowy wings, His home was in the far bright North, The passion flower hangs down its head, The daisy droops upon his bed And both look desolate. O'er_rown with desert weeds! To dally with the reeds, But haste thee! on where vigil eyes And thou, young bird, that trills so late, Go back and join thy gentle mate, Who sleeps not far away; And tell her, when ye reach her grove Along yon winding shore, How ye have heard of one, whose love Will never see him more. Original. SEATING THE PARISH. BY SEBA SMITH. "Order is Heaven's first law; and this confess'd, So thought the good people of the old town of Brookhaven about a hundred and forty years ago, when they enacted the law for seating the parish at church. Do any of our distant readers want information as to the locality and geography of Brookhaven, we may as well premise in the outset, that it is on Long Island, some sixty miles or so from the city of New York, and is the largest town in territory in Suffolk County, containing more than a hundred thousand acres, and stretching across the whole width of the island. It contains seven or eight thousand inhabitants, who are distributed in several villages along the shores of the Sound and the Atlantic, while the middle portions of the town still remain covered with pine forests, abounding with deer and other wild game. The early settlers of this part of Long Island, were mostly. from New England, and the inhabitants still retain much of the primitive Puritan character of their forefathers. A company from Boston and its vicinity, commenced a settlement in Brookhaven as early as sixteen hundred and fifty-five; and in ten years the settlement had increased so much, that they called a minister of the gospel to come and reside among them. Their choice of pastor was, of course, from the good old pilgrim stock; for where else could they go? There was no other race among men or under heaven, according to their ideas, "whereby they could be saved." Accordingly, they settled as their first minister, Rev. Nathan Brewster, a grandson of Elder William Brewster, who came over in the May Flower. Thus having proved the origin of the good people of Brookhaven, it follows as a matter of course, that they were not only a pious people, a church-going people, but also great lovers of order and decorum. Happily so important a conclusion does not rest for its authority on mere inference alone; it is sustained by ample and positive proof in the shape of duly authenticated records. Like most new and remote settlements, the town might, for some time, be regarded as a sort of independent democracy. The people met together in a body, and adopted rules, and made laws, and elected magistrates and other officers, to see the laws properly executed. Their at tendance at church, also, was, for many years, | police, subject, however, at all times, to the geneconducted very much on the democratic princi- ral and common laws of the society. ple. Indeed this is most usually the case with churches in all new settlements. The meetinghouse, as well as the nation, experiences its revolutions, and in the progress of society, passes through all the regular forms of government. It has its period of pure democracy; when the temple is a humble, unfinished structure, with open doors and windows, and the people come and go at all times during the hours of worship, as best suits their pleasure. Then it is, that the congregation sit on stout longitudinal planks supported by blocks of wood, and on transverse boards resting on the aforesaid planks. These planks and boards being common property, vested in the body politic, the respective seats, on the Sabbath, are seized and rightfully held, like a newly discovered country, by the first occupant; thus affording a practical illustration at the same time both of their political and religious faith, viz: that the people of the parish are all equal, and that God is no respecter of persons. In progress of time, the meeting-house glides naturally into the aristocratic form of government. Wealth has begun to make distinctions in society. A better building is erected, or the old one repaired and put in a condition more suitable to the times. Permanent fixtures take the place of the loose planks and boards, and low partition walls divide the floor into distinct compartments. This revolution has been brought on and carried out by the wealth of the few who had the means to sustain it, and they in return receive the honors and distinctions usually bestowed on the successful leaders of a revolution. The many look up to them with reverence, and stand back and give place to them whenever they appear. The affairs of the meeting-house are now principally under their management and control, and having taken possession of the most honorable seats, and provided that the most respectable among the mass should take the seats of the next highest grade, the remainder of the house is left free for promiscuous occupation. Years pass on; and by the diffusion of wealth and knowledge, and the increase of numbers, the society becomes ripe for another revolution. Then perhaps comes on a sort of constitutional government, not unlike that of our great republican union. A tasteful and costly church is erected, and the snug and elegant family pew succeeds to the former rude compartments. Each pew, like a sovereign and independent state, is governed by the head of the family, who has entire control over all matters of its internal In The illustration of our subject, drawn from the history of the good old town of Brookhaven, is derived from that period when the meeting-house was undergoing a change from a democratic to an aristocratic form of government. The building had been much improved, mainly by the generous liberality of Colonel Smith, who had poured out his treasure like water, to accomplish so laudable an object. By the thorough renovation it underwent at this time, including the applications of yellow ochre and oil, and the change of loose planks and boards for permanent seats, the meeting-house was much modernized, and exhibited a very respectable appearance. front of the pulpit stood a large table of about twelve feet by four, around which, on communion days, the church gathered to partake of the supper. At the regular Sabbath services, the upper members of the parish, including, of course, Colonel Smith and his family, seated themselves at the table, as being the most honorable seat, on account of its vicinity to the pulpit, and the convenience it afforded as a resting-place for psalm-books and psalters. The rest of the floor of the meeting-house was divided into fifteen different apartments, of an oblong, bed-room sort of size and shape, which were denominated pews. But it is hard to bring the mass of community to adopt great changes or innovations in government, or the habits of society. When our excellent federal constitution was framed, it was a long time before a majority of the people of all the states could be induced to fall in with it, and receive it as their form of government. So it was with the parish of Brookhaven. They had been accustomed, from time immemorial, to sit promiscuously in all parts of the meeting-house wherever they pleased, and there seemed to be but little disposition on the part of the mass of the parish, to break over the old habit. The society had become numerous, and contained many noisy and roguish boys, and not a few thoughtless and frolicking young men. Scenes of indecorum and confusion occurred almost every Sabbath, greatly to the annoyance of the more sober part of the congregation, and sometimes to the interruption of the ceremonial of worship. At last good Parson Phillips had to stop short one day in the midst of his sermon. He stood silent for the space of a minute, looking sternly at pews No. 4 and 6, and then, shaking his finger solemnly in that direction, he said "If the boys in pew No. 4 will stop that crowding and shuffling their feet, and the young men in pew No. 6 will cease their whispering with the young women, the sermon can go on; if not, not." by the way and leaning over the fences, in companies of three or four together, and discussing earnestly the events of the day, and proposing plans to be presented at the meeting to-morrow. Punctually at ten o'clock, the next day, there was a very general gathering of the inhabitants at the meeting-house. On motion of Deacon Jones, Col. Smith was unanimously appointed "mode assuming the chair, he stated in a few pertinent remarks, the general object of the meeting, and said they were now ready to hear any observations or suggestions on the subject. A minute or two passed in perfect silence, and no one seemed disposed to rise. At last, the chairman said, perhaps 'Squire Tallmadge would favor the meeting with his views of the matter. The eyes of all were now turned toward 'Squire Tallmadge, who, after a little pause, rose slowly, and addressed the chair as follows. The whole congregation looked thunderstruck. The old men turned their heads towards the two pews, and then towards the minister, and then towards the pews again.rator," or chairman of the meeting, and on Deacon Jones, coloring with indignation, rose on his feet, and glanced round with a look of awful rebuke upon pew No. 6; and Mr. Wigglesworth, who was seated at the table, went directly into pew No. 4, and seizing two of the boys by the shoulders in the thickest of the crowd, dragged them out of the pew, and set them down at the foot of the pulpit stairs. These decided domonstrations in favor of good order were not without their influence, and the services again proceeded without any material interruption 'till the close. When Parson Phillips was about to pronounce the benediction, Deacon Jones was observed to rise sooner than he was accustomed to do, and before any of the rest of the congregation; and he was observed, also, to stand, during that ceremony, with his back to the minister, and looking round upon the audience, a thing which he was never seen to do before. The congregation, therefore, were pre-worst of it. The young men and the boys have pared to expect something out of the usual course, from Deacon Jones. As soon as the amen had dropped from the minister's lips, the Deacon stretched out his hand, and began to address the audience. "For one, Mr. Moderator, I feel the importance of the subject upon which we are met; and for one, I am prepared to go into strong measures to remedy the evil, which has been so common of late. The evil is great, and must be corrected. We had a specimen yesterday of the noise and indecorum, which sometimes interrupts the course of worship. And that is not all, nor the got in the habit of going in early sometimes, before services begin, and crowding into the best seats, and occupying the chairs round the table; so that the older people, the pillars of the church, and those who bear most of the expense of sup seats or stow themselves round in the corners, wherever they can find a chance. This is the difficulty, and it seems to me the remedy would lie in some entirely new arrangement for seating the parish. I think the inhabitants should be properly divided into classes, and each class assigned to a different pew, having reference to the rank and respectability of each class, and the respective proportions they contribute to the support of the gospel." "I think," said he, "the scenes we have wit-porting the gospel, have to go into the back nessed here to-day, as well as on several Sabbaths heretofore, admonish us that we have a duty to perform which has been too long neglected. If we have any regard for our character as an orderly and well-behaved people; if we have any respect for the house of God, and the holy religion we profess, I think it is high time we took a decided stand, and adopted some strong measures to secure order and decorum during the hours of public worship. I feel impelled by a sense of duty to invite a general meeting to be held at this place to-morrow, to take the subject into consideration. And I hope that all the heads of families in town, and all who vote and pay taxes, will meet here to-morrow at ten o'clock for this purpose." Col. Smith spoke, and said he approved of the suggestion of Deacon Jones, and hoped there would be a general attendance. The congregation then dispersed, some moving silently and thoughtfully homeward, and some loitering As 'Squire Tallmadge sat down, Mr. Wigglesworth and Doctor Wetmore rose nearly at the same time. The chair finally decided that Mr. Wigglesworth had the floor, whereupon Mr. Wigglesworth made the following remarks. "Mr. Moderator; I agree with all that 'Squire Tallmadge has said, exactly; only I don't think he's stated the audacious conduct half strong enough. I think, if the young men have courting to do, they should do it at home, and not in church. Why, Mr. Moderator, I've seen |