his tribe to be stared at by curious and sneering strangers. But his country is in ruins. His warriors are wasting away. -His forests are cut down, and his game has been driven far from his hunting grounds. There are none among the mighty of his tribe to make him glad, or to mourn when he is no more.-C. Rec. FROM THE IRIS. ROGER SHERMAN, Who was alike distinguished as a profound statesman and jurist, was born at Newton, Mass. on the 19th of April, 1721. His parents were obscure but worthy citizens, and had no better education than the slender and limited provision of a common free school, furnished at that early period. At a suitable age he was apprenticed to a Shoemaker, having chosen that trade as the business of his life, and continued to labor in this occupation until after he was twenty-two. He however had a strong and ardent thirst after knowledge, and employed every moment which could be spared from his other avocation in the acquisition of knowledge. It is even said that while laboring he constantly kept a book by him. In 1743, having lost his father, be with his mother removed to New Milford, in the then colony of Connecticut. Here he was associated with his brother in the mercantile business, which gave him a better opportunity to gratify his taste for intellectual improvement; for it appears he made such advances in the several studies of mathematics, that in 1745, he was appointed surveyor of the county of Litchfield, and gained some celebrity in making the necessary calculations for an almanac. These facts would be hardly worth mentioning, except as they show how a powerful mind developed itself unaided by instruction. His clear and comprehensive views of subjects seemed to recommend him to some pursuit in life which would give a more extended field for intellectual exertion, and his friends urged him to embrace the profession of law. He ac cordingly commenced the study, and in 1754, was admitted an attorney and counsellor. In 1755 he was chosen to represent New Milford in the colonial assembly, and was elected several years in succession. He soon attained to eminence in his profession, and in 1759, was elevated to the bench of the Common Pleas for Litchfield. In 1761, he left that county and removed to New Haven, where he was soon elected a representative, and in 1765, was raised to the bench of Common Pleas for the county of New-Haven. In 1766, he was chosen by the people of Connecticut an assistant, and in the same year was made a Judge of the Supreme Court. He continued to be returned at every successive election an assistant for seventeen years, and remained on the bench of the Supreme Court until 1789, when he resigned his seat. In 1774 he was elected a member of the first Congress, and was continued either a member of the house or senate until his death, in 1793. His name is among those who subscribed the declaration of independ ence. Such is a mere outline of the public services of one of the fathers of this country. To do justice to a name so conspicious, to point out in detail the able and faithful manner in which he performed the various and burdensome public duties which devolved upon him, would require a biographical notice that would swell into a volume, and a few men deserve a volume more, or would fill it better. He was a man of plain unostentatious manners, but firm and unwavering in his opinions. He discharged the duties of the various offices which he held, to the great satisfaction of the public, and with great honor to himself. His judgement was clear, and so remarkably correct that his colleagues in Congress have said, he never in all the perplexities of that body cast a wrong vote. He was more distinguished for his accurate, comprehensive views of subjects, than for his eloquence; hence he was much employed on committees in the investigation of the most complex and difficult matters, and his opinions were always received with great deference and respect. Of the high estimation in which he was held there needs no other proof than the fact that he was elevated by the people of Connecticut to almost every office within their gift. Of the fidelity and ability with which he discharged his public duties, there needs no better proof than his re-election to all offices he would consent to take, as long as he would accept them. On the whole, Roger Sherman was no common man, but seemed to be fitted to the times in which he lived. He was no demagogue, but a friend to the rights of man, and an enemy to the usurpation of political power. He stood forth in times of great peril the advocate of his distressed country and to him and others who had minds that could not be appalled by disaster nor intimidated by threats, must we attribute the blessings we enjoy as a free and independent nation. In 1793, he died at New-Haven, and a monument is erected to his memory in the principal burying place of that city. THE TALISMAN. WORCESTER, SATURDAY, FEB. 21, 1829. HOLMES'S AMERICAN ANNALS. The venerable Dr. Holmes, of Cambridge, has favored the public with a new and improved edition of this standard work upon American History in two large royal octavo volumes. The high reputation of the author, and the deserved celebrity of the former edition of this invaluable work, renders it a great acquisition to our Historical Libraries. The great diligence and learning of the author, manifested in collecting materials for the edition of 1805, and his unremitted labors in correcting its errors, and the new treasures acquired by him, will ensure for this work an increased reputation. Upon its first publication, it passed through a large edition here, and another in Great Britain, when it passed the ordeal and received the approbation of the reviewers of the joint stock of English literature, the common property of all who use a common language. This is strictly an American work, its facts and details not being confined to a particular State nor country, but embraces whatever belongs to the history of our Continent, from its first discovery by Columbus in 1492, to the memorable fourth of July, 1826, the day that the two great authors of our Independence, rendered their final account of what was done for the happiness of millions, to the dread tribunal of Heaven. The work is chronologically arranged, and every memorable event is placed to its proper year, so that as a book of reference, it is an indispensable requisite to every Historical Library. With such a perfect manual before him, the heretofore lamented ignorance of many of our scholars upon important facts connected with our history, will now be inexcusable. We regret that in a work apparent ly so carefully compiled, there should be found some omissions of important events, such as that of the battle of the 8th January, 1815, at New Orleans, and some of the minor conflicts The previous to the great fight on the 8th. capture of the frigate President by a British fleet, is omitted. ERRATA. By an oversight in reading the proof under the Worcester head in our last number, an article we intended should mean something, was rendered insufferable nonsense. The sentence corrected, reads as follows:"The idea of Sterne, upon a good natured reader, is strongly expressive of his dislike of that kind of satisfaction which many take in carping at the productions of the author they are reading." We are indebted to a friend for the notice of Dr. HOLMES' Work in our present number. A meeting of citizens from several towns in the north part of Worcester County, was held at Whiting's tavern, in Sterling, on the 17th inst. to consider the subject of extending the Blackstone Canal from Worcester to Fitchburg.--Committees were chosen to procure funds by subscription or otherwise. such surveys as may be necessary and to raise We are glad to see this spirit, in our neighbors, and hope they will succeed in their undertaking. WORDSWORTH.-Wordsworth evidently desires to make poetry inspire religious feelings; and the attempt is worthy of all praise. But there is no such thing as reforming men, talking in a language which they do not understand. If he had consulted the example of that religion which inspires him, he would have chosen the language most familiar to his readers, and edeavoured to adopt their feeling so far as he could without compromising his own. In this way he might have elevated theirs, and rendered a noble service to the cause of human improvement; as it is, he has contributed to the decline of of his art, and done as little as a piller-saint to the welfare of man. POETRY. FROM THE EMERALD. When I was young-when I was young, And every thing was bright and fair. When I was young-when I was young, And when I fell--I was no fool, And then get up and run to school. When I was young--when I was young, For they were stored with luxuries. I'm getting old--I'm getting old, I cannot, as in boyhood's hours, Climb proudly up the mountain steep, Or count the leaves of summer flowers. I cannot look upon the world As if 'twere made for me alone; I cannot claim a single friend, For those I lov'd in youth are gone. I'm getting old-I'm getting old, The sun-bright days of youth are gone, Care's leaden hand is on my heart, And I am in the world-alone! Life's winter is advancing fast, Ah! where is Ellen? where are they Who join'd me in my youthful sports? Just like a dream, they've pass'd away! BYRON. BY J. G. BROOKS. Creative Fancy! canst thou paint the wild And mighty grandeur of thy wayward child, The gifted Byron-canst thou tell, if Death Apalled the spirit, when he checked the breath? High-hearted bard! in whose capacious mind The extremes of good and evil were combined; Common in nothing, and beyond the ken And judgment of the common herd of men. Tempestuous passion wrapped thy heart in strife, Thy words are words of wonder and of tear, The noiseless step, the curtain moved with care Yet, yet, preserving in this awful hour Let no unhallowed step, nor glance,nor breath On that pale cheek the death sweat gathers fast His lip is writhed-that struggle is his lastThe spirit hath departed on its way To unknown worlds-and-Byron is but clay! Married, In Sterling, by Rev. Mr. Osgood, Rev. William H. White of Littleton, to Miss Sarah B. Foster, youngest daughter of Rev. E. Foster, deceased, and adopted daughter of Alexander Dustin, Esq. Died, In Northbridge, Mr. Samuel Adams, eldest son of Capt. Ayrus Adams, aged 28. In Leicester, Lieut. John Sargent, aged 60. In North Brookfield, Jeremiah Bastow,aged 66. In Berlin, Mr. Jesse Jewett aged 78. In Jaffery, Mr. Benjamin Hayward, aged 75. He was wounded in the battle of Bunker Hill. WORCESTER TALISMAN. Published every other Saturday morning, by DORR & HOWLAND, Worcester, (Mass.) at $1 a year, payable in advance. Agents paying five dollars will be enti And high excitement was thy life of life- Letters, intended for THE TALISMAN, must be post paid to insure attention. GRIFFIN AND MORRILL....PRINTERS. THE Worcester Talisman. NO. 25. MISCELLANY. MARCH 7, 1829. THE LOVE OF DISTINCTION, OR FAME. The star which rises o'er her steep, or climb? VOL. I. Yet strange as it may seem, this bubblethis empty vapor which appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth away"-this desire for distinction (would to heaven it was always of an honourable kind,) is one of the most powerful incentives to action, which operate on the mind of man; and it only needs a proper control, and a suitable direction to its ener getic influence, to be productive of the happiest effects. Show me a man whose only ob hazard, but who cares not whether the distinction be honorable or otherwise,—who will stop at nothing however despicable-regard nothing however elevated-and shun nothing however degraded which promise to advance his favorite schemes-and I will show you one of the most vacillating, mean, and dangerous of men. On the other hand, let a man be pointed out, who is insensible to the awakening stimulus of distinction-who is regardless of the reward of merit-and he will be found to be a cumberer of the ground-a cypher in creation-a mere piece of animated clay, but to enliven whose inert mass, the revivifying fire was never stolen from heaven-a being fit only to wear out a drowsy, monotonous existence, in the lumber room of animated nature"-then It may well be questioned whether there is any one of the principles or passions which the Great Creator has implanted in the constitu-ject it is to acquire a name at any and every tion of our natures, more deeply rooted, than the love of Fame, or the wish of occupying, with the name at least, a place in the tablet of human remembrance. The highest are not above it-the lowest are not beneath it;-All cling to the hope of distinction, as the drowning man clings to the twig which he thinks will save him from impending distruction.We see it in the infant-we trace it in childhood-it expands in youth--"grows with our growth, and strengthens with our strength."It twines its multitudinous tendrils around every fibre of the heart-and with an omnipotent power, sways every action. Through life it remains unsubdued, and even in death, the ruling passion of life maintains its ascendency. Too aften, those shadowy forms which hover around the pillow of the dying, instead of wafting to Heaven the prayer, "God be merciful to me a sinner," hear only a sigh of regret that so many schemes for renown have failed, and are compelled to listen to the wish, halfuttered, and half-choaked in the damps of death, that the monumental marble may record their titles, and their names. And what is this fame for which the soldier struggles through fields of carnage? What is this distinction for which the statesman suffers wearisome days and painful nights, and for which he willingly submits to run the gauntlet of public opinion and public scrutiny? What this object for which the politician racks his brain to circumvent and over-reach his antagonist? for which the scholar grows pale over the midnight lamp-and the mere thought of securing which, adds a deeper glow to the cheek, and a richer brilliancy to the sparkling eye of beauty? In the beautiful language of another, it is --"A fleeting life, in others breath; A thing beyond us, even before our death!" die, and fatten the earth to produce subsistence for some equally intellectual and more useful animal. But such is the tenacity with which we cling to the remembrance of the world-such the instinctive abhorrence which we feel at the idea of being forgotten, that any notoriety, however disgraceful, is preferred by many to unobtrusive, and therefore oblivious merit. The man who burnt the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, avowed his intention of doing something which would compel the world to remember him, acted upon this principle.-Many a murderer and highway robber has anticipated with a strange and inhuman satisfaction, the hour when his name and iniquitous exploits would go forth to the world in a sixpenny pamphlet-descend to posterity, and be hung on high to "poison half mankind”— and there are not a few, who would feel com paratively happy, were they certain of their being, for their misdeeds and crimes, like Cromwell and Cataline-" damned to everlasting fame." In every age-in every station of life, in every class of men, individuals may be pointed out,-men rendered memorable in the an siac. nals of the world: men whose names have fil- || unspotted, and unfading, as the enduring Moled the brazen trumpet of fame, to illustrate the truth of these remarks. We need not go beyond the times and age in which we live, to find abundance of instances. For example: One species of distinction which is perhaps more covetted by mankind at large, than any other, is that of the successful warrior and conqueror. This arises from an inherent love of power, and so strong is this principle, that the voluntary renunciation of that power, after the distinction has been acquired, has always been considered as the most striking instance of self denial on record and consequently the most glorious. It was this that raised our own Washington so far above the Cæsar of Republican Rome, or the diademed Napolean of imperial France. Washington served his country for his country's good. He wished distinction, but he sought it in building a peaceable, prosperous and poworful nation. He desired a name--but he wished it engraven on the hearts of his countrymen and not on marble colums, or pyramids of granite. Napoleon sought distinction, but it was of a different kind. His was to be gathered on the field of battle--sought in the cannon's mouth--and its memorials traced in lines of blood, over the green surface of half the globe. There is, too, the fame and distinction whicn belong to literature--a distinction of the most enviable and honourable kind, when directed to worthy objects--but of an influence destructive as the simoon of the desert, when as is too often the case, its gigantic power is exerted to poison the fountains, whether the flowers, & annihilate the hopes which freshen and brighten, and enchant the traveller, along the changeful pathway of life. Who, viewing it in a purely literary light would not prefer the fame of Scott and Irving to that of Voltaire and Paine? Much rather would I share the distinction which awaits the author of the Minstrel, and Old Mortality than that of the author of the Henriade, or Charles the Twelfth and gladly, were it at my option, would I exchange the "bad eminence" of the author of the Age of reason, and Common Sense, for the pure and unfading laurel which freshens on the brow of him who sketched the Young Italian, or the inimitable Legend of Sleepy Hollow. There is one other kind of distinction I shall mention without apology-one less sought and less prized, it is true, more elevated and ennobling; and as much higher than those kinds of fame to which I have alluded, as the zenith is above the nadir. Mere mortal distinction forms no part of its object--the benefit it confers is immortal--the amaranthine wreath that encircles the brow of its votaries, is not made of the perishing materials which form the garlands of time; but it is woven of blossoms plucked from the tree of life, and the unfading flowers which are sprinkled over the sapphire courts of Heaven. Such is the fame of Brainard, of Whitfield, of Martyn and Newell--bright, If we would wish for evidence to convince us of the folly of seeking for fame in the ordinary acceptation of the term, let us listen to the voice of antiquity and we shall hesitate no longer. From the chambers of the Pyramids, from the catacombs of Thebes--from the Cyclopean fountains of Tyre and Argos,-from the shatered capitals of the Acropolis, and the crumbling columns of Pæstum, is heard a voice deep toned as the solemn and majestic march of ages, and hollow and prophetic as from the fragments of an earlier and nearly forgotten world. Where are the founders and builders of these stupenduous works? Where the conquerors and Kings who have swayed the sceptres of empires in these dilapidated palaces and temples? What were the names of those, who, when enclosed in their mountain mausoleums, fancied they might bid definance to the oblivious stream of Time? Alas! their names are blotted out! Time touched with his withering finger the monuments they had destined for immortality, and they crumbled to the earth! The dust of the imperious Nebuchadnezzar is trodden by the wolf and the hyena and fanned by the lonely wing of the owl and the bittern. Bats cluster and brood in the tombs of the Ptolemies--and asses quench their thirst in the Sarcophagus of Alexander the Great--who vainly sighed for more worlds to conquer!--And Rome! the imperial mistress of the world, who proudly styled herself the "Eternal City," whose magnificence, even in ruins, is still the wonder and astonishement of the earth! what a lesson on the transitory nature of human greatness and grandeur, and its concomitant fame may be read within the walls? Streets once thronged by the millions of Roman citizens, are swept of their inhabitants by the depopulating Malaria. Earth accumulates in the area where republican Rome in the vast Coliseum beheld the agonies of the dying gladiator--Culinary vegetables are raised in dust which once lived--the poor remains of patricians, consuls, and Cæsars! and cattle graze in the forum which once resounded with the eloquence of Cato and Cicero! Such are the changing destinies of nations, such the doom of that posthumous reputation which mankind are so anxious to secure, that by too many it is thought to be cheaply purchased at the expense of every thing which renders mankind amiable and their conduct honorable. We have then arrived at these conclusions: that the love of eminence and distinction is one of the most powerful springs of human action--that properly directed and controlled, it is of incalculable service to mankind--that history furnishes an antidote for that feverish anxiety for power and distinction which we sometimes witness-that no reliance, will, unless based on virtuous and honourable actions, be more permanent, than the transient meteor |