The Northern star, and farmers' and mechanics' advocate. [volume] (Warren, R.I.) 1830-1834, 1830-06-19

For the Star.
Mr.. Pr;nter-Many are the advocates
Er morning air But few, II any, nave
.uff;c;ent courage to enter your columns,
in defence of tho fine evenings which at
this season ofths year, our good New
England folks may enjoy. You will Of
ten hear long dissertation on the blush
ing beauty of young Aurora-ths fra
GRANGE of the first Autterings of the morn
inx breeze-and the bright glittsring Of
the pearly dew-all this, and more, ! will
cheerfully allow-'tis very fine, and well
worthy the attention of our genteel ioun-
gers, who lie parboiling between their
sheets, until Sol locking down from mid
heaven darts such piercing glances on
their PROSTATE forms, that the very heat
hinders them from naming any longerin
their recumbent posture. In short, MIR.
Editor, l am arake to all the peculiar
charis ofopsning day but, that don't
hinder me from appreciating the mild and
tranquil beauties which characterize q
fair evening in June--when the sun gets
low in the west and shorn Of his fierce
beams, casts mellowcd ray, obliqueiy
DER tho yariegatcd landscape, tinging the
spires and the tips Of mountains with gold,
Itaste my little morsel of pleasure and
delight. Then gaze at the FURNISHED
clouds that in the occidental skies, like hap
Nv islands, rest motionless and grand
look abroad on the green drapery OF the
forest, shaken by no passing gale---or turn
my eyes on the polished surface OF the
still lake, and far in magic depths below
admire another firmancnt spread out in
versely beneath the tranquil waters bed.
To me, such sights are luxuries,-tRey
calm the throbbing heart-and call out
the social feelings, as they existed, in ear
~ youth. before comlnerce, with the
world had chilled their gushing sources
and disappointment had mixed gaul with
the lessened currents Of affection. The
mildpess ofthe elemental world, at these
soft twilight hours, disposes the mind tor
contemplation ofthe tendercst character
---insensibly the thoughts steal back to
years gone bye, and trace on memory's
page the passages, of tender interest
which were once life's sweetest soiace,
and are now reco llected with mingled
sensations of Joy and sadncss--and as we
rove among the ruins Of the past-glanc-
ing thought, on each Of our many sun
dered ties, and dropping the tear OF sym
pathy for those, once, dear, nov, sleeping
iuthc tomb convictions 70 our own fugitive
state naturally arise and we are made to
believe in lively sense, the uncertainty
which is written on mortal hopes. This
induces our CONCENTRATIONS to run down
the tide Of time, little, in advance, and
anticipate the hour which must call us to
Join the ,nnumerablc multitude that haze
been. And it is profitable, sometimes, to
fix the attention on life's last scene. In
stead of .lessenine our pleasures, It will
heighten them. How few there are who
do not number majority Of their dear
est friends with the pale tenants Of the
grave. What Joy must attedd reunion
where the fear Of parting can have no pow
er to mar unmingled bliss And what il
we do leave few names behind which
are neat and dear. Will they not soon
follow on, and join us who have gone
before ?'' Yes, the green grass will
wave but short time over us, before the
few who bear our likeness in their bosoms,
will be gathered to, their bodiesenter the
dark dwelling of unconsciousncss. And
their memories, with ours, fade from the
earth. Even the rade stone which may
have been raised to tell the wanderer,
where we ne, win soon cease 10 bear the
record Of our names. Times busy fin
ger will wear the inscription, ou.,-and
creeping moss will grow upon ito face