The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository - BestLightNovel.com
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Satire is the only kind of wit, for which we have scripture authority and example, in the case of Elijah ridiculing the false G.o.ds of Ahab.
He that always praises me, is undoubtedly a flatterer; but he that sometimes praises, and sometimes reproves me, is probably my friend, and speaks his mind. Did we not flatter ourselves, others would do us no hurt.
Men are too apt to promise according to their hopes, and perform according to their fears.
Secrecy has all the prudence, and none of the vices either of simulation, or dissimulation.
_For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._
_An Enigmatical List of amiable young Ladies in this City._
1. Miss C-l-e S-m-n, 2. Miss S-r-h B-r-r, 3. Miss L-e-a B-z-r, 4. Miss M-r-a C-e-n, 5. Miss M-r-a B-k-r, 6. Miss M-r-a B-e-n, 7. Miss C-h-e D-v-s, 8. Miss N-n-y P-g-e, 9. Miss S-r-a T-y-r, 10. Miss M-r-y U-t.
(A solution is requested.)
_Sept. 12, 1796._
A. D.
_NEW-YORK._
MARRIED,
At Elizabeth Town, on Sat.u.r.day evening the 3d inst. by the Rev. Mr.
Rayner, Mr. BEZA E. BLISS, of this city, to Miss BETSEY JELF THOMAS, of that place.
On Sunday evening the 21st ult. by the Rev. Mr. Schenck, Mr. JOEL SCIDMORE, of Crab-Meadow (L.I.) to Miss HANNAH HOYT, of d.i.c.ks-Hills, (L.I.)
On Sat.u.r.day evening the 3d inst. by the Rev. Dr. Linn, Captain DANIEL HAWLEY, of Connecticut, to Miss CATHARINE GILBERT, daughter of William W. Gilbert, Esq. of this city.
On Wednesday evening the 31st ult. by the Rev. Mr. Burnet, Mr. JOSEPH WICKES, of Troy, to Miss SUSANNAH RAYMOND, of Norwalk, (Connecticut.)
_METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS._ _From the 4th to the 10th inst._
_Days of the Month._ _Thermometer observed at 8, A.M. 1, P.M. 6, P.M._ _Prevailing winds._ _OBSERVATIONS on the WEATHER._
deg. deg. deg. 8. 1. 6. 8. 1. 6.
100 100 100 Sept. 4 67 75 72 50 nw. do. ne. clear, do. do 5 63 70 75 69 ne. nw. do. clear do. do.
6 63 50 71 25 70 50 ne. do do. clear do. do.
7 63 25 74 68 25 ne. do. se. cloudy, clear do.
8 66 71 66 50 e. do. do. cloudy, lt. wd. do.
9 71 50 75 50 75 50 se. n. w. high wd. & rn. at night 10 67 25 78 75 73 nw. w. do. clear, lt. wd. do.
_For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._
TO EMMA.
With thee, my Emma, lovely fair, with thee Life's varied path I'll tread contentedly; When rising morn her blooming tints displays, And clads all nature with enlivening rays; Or when the threatning storm in dark attire, Beclouds the scene, and hurls etherial fire: Sweet innocence, bright beaming from thine eye, Shall heavenly hope and fort.i.tude supply; --Together then, my Emma, let us stray, Where heaven and virtuous love shall point the way.
VIATOR.
+For the New-York Weekly Magazine.+
ELEGY
On the Death of Mr. Peter Abeel, Who Ceased to Exist on the 30th Ult.
The awful sound of death--the tolling bell, With solemn sadness strikes the list'ning ear: While sighs responsive to its gloomy knell, Proclaim the loss of what was held most dear.
In prime of life, e'er manhood had begun, A virtuous youth was number'd with the dead; E'er nineteen years their wonted course had run, ABEEL's chaste soul to other regions fled.
Untainted yet by pleasure's 'witching smile, Of manners easy, affable and free A conscience pure, and void of specious guile, An upright heart, and n.o.ble mind had he.
But, ah! integrity can nought avail, Nor innocence arrest the fleeting breath!
E'en purity like his we now bewail Could not repel the pow'rful shaft of death.
That form which late with youthful vigour teem'd, The fierce attack of sickness could not brave; The eye in which bright animation beam'd, Has lost its splendour in the silent grave.
Oh! Death, couldst thou not stay thine active arm, 'Till age had strew'd its winters o'er his head: Till life's enjoyment could no longer charm, And earthly pleasures had forever fled.
Then thine approach more welcome would have been, And less regretted thy reverseless doom; Age would have render'd thy attack less keen, And smooth'd the rugged pa.s.sage to the tomb.
But youth--luxuriant season of delight, When pleasing fancies fill the teeming brain; Was soon by thee transform'd to endless night-- To night, on which no morn shall dawn again.
