among mustered a force of sixteen thousand men, at New sent down the river Delaware, near to the city. York. These left there, soon after, with a large They expected that these would explode, and am fleet. An attack was expected everywhere upon the the British shipping; they did, however, no damage, coast; but no one knew whither they were bound. but the British were very much alarmed, and acWashington moved his army towards Philadelphia. cordingly, fired cannon at every thing they saw The British fleet at last, entered Chesapeake Bay, floating in the river. This afforded the Americans and landed their men at Turkey Point. They left a fund of amusement. Francis Hopkinson, one of that place September 3d, and marching towards the signers of the Declaration, and a man of great Philadelphia, came up with a portion of Washing- wit, wrote the following humorous ballad upon th ton's army, at a place called Chad's Ford, on the river Brandywine. On the 11th, they had a warm skirmish, and the Americans were driven back. Congress removed to Yorktown, Virginia; and Howe entered Philadelphia, in great triumph, September 26th. The Americans were defeated again at Germantown, on the 4th of October. The battle began early in the morning, when nothing could be seen farther than thirty yards. During the whole action, which lasted nearly three hours, the firing on both sides was directed by the flash of each other's guns. The smoke of the cannon and musketry, mingled with the thick fog, rested over the armies in clouds. The Americans saved their artillery, even to a single cannon, which had been dismounted. General Greene displayed most remarkable coolness in this action. About this time, a smart action was fought at Red Bank, on the Jersey side of the Delaware, seven miles below Philadelphia. The Americans had erected batteries here, and upon Mud Island, in the middle of the river. Nothing, therefore, belonging to the British, could pass up and down between their camp at Philadelphia, and their fleet in the river below. Two ranges of chevauxdefrise were placed in the channel. Howe sent down two thousand Germans, under Colonel Donop, to attack the Red Bank redoubt, which was defended by four hundred men. This number was so small, that half the redoubt was left vacant, and a line was drawn through the middle of it. The enemy came on very fiercely with a brisk cannonade; entered the empty part of the redoubt, and shouted for victory. But the garrison poured out such a tremendous fire, that the Germans, after a brief conflict fled, with the loss of four hundred men, and their brave commander Donop. Washington retired into winter quarters at Valley Forge, sixteen miles from Philadelphia. His army might have been tracked by the blood of their feet, in marching without shoes or stockings, over the hard, frozen ground. Thousands of them had no blankets, and were obliged to spend the night in trying to get warm, instead of sleeping. They erected log huts for lodgings. For a fortnight they nearly starved-sometimes they were without bread and without meat. A person passing by the huts of these poor fellows in the evening, might have seen them through the crevices, stretching their cold hands over the fire, and a soldier occasionally coming in or going out, with nothing but a blanket on his shoulders. "No pay, no clothes, no provisions, no rum," said they to each other. But to their praise be it spoken, they loved Washington and their country too well, to desert them in these trying times. During the winter, the Americans contrived some machines which were filled with gunpowder, and subject: BATTLE OF THE KEGS. Gallants, attend, and hear a friend 'Twas early day, as poets say, As in a maze he stood to gaze, The truth can't be denied sir,He spied a score of kegs, or more, Come floating down the tide, sir. A sailor too, in jerkin blue, This strange appearance viewing "These kegs to hold the rebels bold, The soldier flew, the sailor too, Now up and down, throughout the town, Some fire cried, which some denied, Sir William he, snug as a flea, Now in a fright he starts upright, At his bedside he then espied Sir Erskine at command, sir; Upon one foot he had one boot, And the other in his hand, sir. "Arise, arise!" Sir Erskine cries; "The motley crew, in vessels new, "Therefore prepare for bloody war- The royal band now ready stand, The cannons roar from shore to shore, The small arms make a rattle; Since war's began, I'm sure no man E'er saw so strange a battle. The rebel dales the rebel vales, With rebel trees surrounded, The distant woods, the hills and floods, With rebel echoes sounded. The fish below swam to and fro. Attack'd from every quarter; "Why sure," thought they, "the d's to pay. The kegs, 'tis said, though strongly made, From morn to night, these men of might A hundred men, with each a pen, which is called Mount Lafayette. From the summit of this mountain, the prospect is grand and beautiful, hardly inferiour to that of Mount Washington. Upon its sides are delightful beds of moss, surpassing all description. It is easy of access, as there is a good path well interspersed with springs even to the uttermost peak. It is not unfrequent in the ascent, that a herd of deer are seen bounding across the path, and flocks of partridges and pigeons are startled up from the circumjacent bushes. Near the north end of the hotel, is a lake which affords a noble spectacle when its silvery surface is kissed by the uninterrupted rays of the sun. Here, you can see the wanton pickerel frisking about in delightful gambols, and the dull turtle basking fearlessly upon the projecting rocks. Upon the farther side of this lake, at the set of sun, several guns are fired which produce a splendid echo. For a long time, the sound reverberates from cliff to cliff, resembling the long and angry peals of thunder which forebode a summer's shower. Where this secluded building now stands, not a tree was felled eleven weeks ago. A sacred silence reigned over the place and nought but the rattling of the stagecoach interrupted its permanency. Within doors, the house is finished with neatness and elegance and well divided into sleeping chambers and parlours. In addition to the common niceties of a city, the table is often provided with pickerel and venison. In the parlour, I a great variety of newspapers. The landlord is interesting, musical, social, and attentive. His numerous stories are always aptly introduced and finished with a remarkable cogency. The landlady is polite, affable, and maternal. No two persons could be better adapted to their situation. The traveller remote from home, and here, as it were, secluded in a cloister, needs something more than his usual meals. He must have relaxation, mental as well as bodily; he requires amusement, kindness, in the night. Sixty of their soldiers were found Although the season for travelling is nearly past, yet, dead on the battle-field without wounds. Fatigue the wonderful curiosities, the diversified grandeur and the excessive heat had killed them. Washing- of the scenery, and the seclusion of its situation ton afterwards passed on to Morristown, and the would amply repay any individual for his time and trouble in visiting one of the most hospitable inns highlands of the Hudson. in the state. Such feats did they perform that day, They'll make their boasts and brags, sir. Gen- found The treaty between France and America was concluded February 6th, 1778, by which the former agreed to join arms with the latter against the British, and occasioned prodigious joy in the army at Valley Forge, and over the whole country. eral Clinton, hearing of this, thought it necessary to remove to New York. He accordingly evacuated Philadelphia on the 18th of June, to the great joy of the inhabitants, and took up his march through New Jersey. Washington broke up his quarters at Valley Forge, and immediately pursued him. A hot battle was fought on the 28th, near Monmouth courthouse, which did not cease till night. Washington slept upon his cloak under a tree, expecting more fighting in the morning; but the British marched off and attention. And here he finds them in abundance. FRANCONIA NOTCH. In the depths of Franconia woods, a beautiful and spacious hotel has recently been built, distant four miles from any other habitation or spot of cultivated ground. It stands in the midst of the primitive forest. On every side, is to be heard the angry murmur of crystal brooks pouring from mountain heights, with innumerable meanders, and everywhere are to be seen the mightiest trees bowing their lofty tops in melody with the whispering breeze. In front, is the greatest natural curiosity in New Hampshire, if not in New England. Upon the side, and very near the summit of an elevated mountain, whose base is within a few rods of the hotel, is a perfect profile of the human countenance. It is on a ledge of solid granite, and is as complete as if carved with the chisel of the artist. It is with the greatest difficulty that an individual can go within a hundred feet of it; at a distance, it is said to bear a striking resemblance to Dr. Franklin. In the rear, rises another beautiful range of mountains, the highest peak of TO A REDBREAST. N. H. Patriot. Little bird, with bosom red, GENERAL MANAGEMENT OF SLEEP. tendency of sleep to prolong life. He asserts that the duration of human life may be ascertained by It now becomes a question at what hour we should the number of pulsations which the individual is able retire to rest, how long our rest ought to continue, to perform. Thus, if a man's life extends to 70 and when it should be broken in the morning. These years, and his heart throbs 60 times each minute, points I shall briefly discuss in the order in which they stand. It is not very easy to ascertain the most appropriate hour for going to bed, as this depends very much upon the habits and occupation of the individual. Labourers, and all hard-wrought people, who are obliged to get up betimes, require to go to rest early; and in their case, nine o'clock may be the best hour. Those who are not obliged to rise early, may delay the period of retiring to rest for an hour or two the whole number of its pulsations will amount to 2,207,520,000; but if, by intemperance, or any other cause, he raises the pulse to 75 in the minute, the same number of pulsations would be completed in 56 years, and the duration of life abbreviated 14 years. Arguing from these data, he alleges that sleep has a tendency to prolong life, as, during its continuance, the pulsations are less numerous than in the waking state. There is a sort of theoretical truth in this statement, but it is liable to be modified by so many longer; and may thus go to bed at ten or eleven. circumstances, that its application can never become These are the usual periods allotted among the mid- general. If this were not the case, it would be natdle ranks of life for this purpose; and it may be laid ural to infer that the length of a man's life would correspond with that of his slumbers; whereas, it is well known, that too much sleep debilitates the frame, and lays the foundation of various diseases, which tend to shorten rather than extend the duration of life. down as a rule, that to make a custom of remaining up for a later period than eleven must be prejudicial. Those, therefore, who habitually delay going to bed till twelve, or one, or two, are acting in direct opposition to the laws of health, in so far as they are compelled to pass in sleep a portion of the ensuing Those who indulge most in sleep, generally reday, which ought to be appropriated to wakefulness quire the least of it. Such are the wealthy and and exertion. Late hours are in every respect hurt- luxurious, who pass nearly the half of their existful, whether they be employed in study or amuse-ence in slumber, while the hard-working peasant and ment. A fresh supply of stimulus is thrown upon mechanick, who would seem, at first sight, to require the mind, which prevents vents it from sinking into slumber at the proper period, and restlessness, dreaming, and disturbed repose inevitably ensue. Among other things, the eyes are injured, those organs suffering much more from the candlelight, to which they are necessarily exposed, than from the natural light of day. more than any other class of society, are contented with seven or eight hours of repose-a period brief in proportion to that expended by them in toil, yet sufficiently long for the wants of nature, as is proved by the strength and health which they almost uniformly enjoy. For reasons already stated, more sleep is requisite in winter than in summer. Were there even no constitutional causes for this difference, we should be disposed to sleep longer in the one than in the other, as some of the circumstances which induce us to sit up late and rise early in summer, are wanting during winter; and we consequently feel disposed to lie longer in bed during the latter season of the year. With regard to the necessary quantity of sleep, so much depends upon age, constitution and employment, that it is impossible to lay down any fixed rule which will apply to all cases. Jeremy Taylor states that three hours only in the twenty-four should be devoted to sleep. Baxter extends the period to four hours, Wesley to six, Lord Coke and Sir William Jones to seven, and Sir John Sinclair to eight. With the latter I am disposed to coincide. Taking the average of mankind, we shall come as nearly as possible to the truth when we say that nearly one third to lie down at night. There can be no doubt part of life ought to be spent in sleep: in some that one of the most admirable conducives to health cases, even more may be necessary, and in few, can is early rising. "Let us," says Solomon, "go forth a much smaller portion be safely dispensed with. into the fields; let us lodge in the villages; let us When a person is young, strong and healthy, an hour or two less may be sufficient; but childhood and extreme old age, require a still greater portion. No person who passes only eight hours in bed, can be said to waste his time in sleep. If, however, he exceeds this, and is, at the same time, in possession of vigour and youth, he lays himself open to the charge of slumbering away those hours which should be devoted to some other purpose. According to Georget, women should sleep a couple of hours longer than men. For the former he allows six or seven hcurs, for the latter eight or nine. I doubt, however, if the female constitution, generally speaking, requires more sleep than the male; at least it is certain that women endure protracted wakefulness better than men, but whether this may result from custom is a question worthy of being considered. Barry, in his work on Digestion, has made an ingenious, but somewhat whimsical calculation on the 'The hour of getting up in the morning is not of less importance than that at which we ought get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourish-if the tender grape appear if the pomegranates bud forth." Almost all men who have distinguished themselves in science, literature, and the arts, have been early risers. The industrious, the active-minded, the enthusiast in the pursuit of knowledge or gain, are up betimes at their respective occupations; while the sluggard wastes the most beautiful period of life in pernicious slumber. Homer, Virgil, and Horace are all represented as early risers: the same was the case with Paley, Franklin, Priestly, Parkhurst, and Buffon, the latter of whom ordered his valet de chambre to awaken him every morning, and compel him to get up by force if he evinced any reluctance: for this service the valet was rewarded with a crown each day, which recompense he forfeited if he did not oblige his master to get out of bed before the clock struck six. Bishops Jewel and Burnet rose regularly at four o'clock. Sir Thomas More did the same thing; and so convinced was he of the beneficial effects of getting up betimes, that, in his "Utopia," he represented the inhabitants attending lectures berore sunrise. Napoleon was an early riser; so was Frederick the great, and Charles XII.; so is the duke of Wellington; and so in truth, is almost every one distinguished for energy and indefatigability of mind. Every circumstance contributes to render early rising advisable to those who are in the enjoyment of health. There is no time equal in beauty and freshness to the morning, when nature has just parted with the gloomy mantle which night had flung over farmers, whose hale complexions, good appetites, and vigorous persons, are evidences of the benefit derived from this custom, conjoined with labour; while the wan, unhealthy countenances and enfeebled frames of those who keep late hours, lie long in bed, and pass the night in dissipation, study, or pleasure, are equally conclusive proofs of the pernicious consequences resulting from an opposite practice. Early rising, therefore, is highly beneficial; but care should be taken not to carry it to excess. It can never be healthful to rise till the sun has been for some time above the horizon; for until this is the case, there is a dampness in the air which must prove injurious to the constitution, especially, when her, and stands before us like a young bride, from it is not naturally very strong. Owing to this, early whose aspect the veil which covered her loveliness, rising is injurious to most delicate people; and, in has been withdrawn. The whole material world all cases, the heat of the sun should be allowed to has a vivifying appearance. The husbandman is up at his labour, the forest leaves sparkle with drops of crystal dew, the flowers raise their rejoicing heads towards the sun, the birds pour forth their anthems of gladness, and the wide face of creation itself seems as if awakened and refreshed from a mighty have acquired some strength before we think of getting out of doors. No healthy man in the summer, should lie longer in bed than six o'clock. If he does so, he loses the most valuable part of the day, and injures his own constitution. Persons subject to gout, should always go to sleep early, and rise early. slumber. All these things, however, are hid from The former mitigates the violence of the evening the eyes of the sluggard; nature, in her most glorious aspect, is, to him, a sealed book; and while every scene around him is full of beauty, interest, and animation, he alone is passionless and uninspired. Behold him stretched upon his couch of rest! In vain does the clock proclaim that the reign of day has commenced! In vain does the morning light stream fiercely in by the chinks of his windows, as if to startle him from his repose! He hears not -he sees not, for blindness and deafness rule over him with despotick sway, and lay a deadening spell upon his faculties. And when he does at length awake-far on in the day-from the torpor of this benumbing sleep, he is not refreshed. He does not start at once into new life-an altered man, with joy in his mind, and vigour in his frame. On the contrary, he is dull, languid, and stupid, as if half recovered from a paroxysm of drunkenness. He yawns, stretches himself, and stalks into the breakfast parlour, to partake in solitude, and without appetite, of his unrefreshing meal-while his eyes are red and gummy, his beard unshorn, his face unwashed, and his clothes disorderly, and ill put on. Uncleanliness and sluggishness generally go hand in hand; for the obtuseness of mind which disposes a man to waste the most precious hours of existence in debasing sleep, will naturally make him neglect his person. The character of the early riser is the very reverse of the sloven's. His countenance is ruddy, his eye is joyous and serene, and his frame full of vigour and activity. His mind, also, is clear and unclouded, and free from that oppressive languor paroxysm, which is always increased by wakefulness; and the latter lessens the tendency to plethora, which is favoured by long-protracted sleep. It is common in some of the foreign universities, to go to bed at eight, and rise at three or four in the morning; and this plan is recommended by Willich in his "Lectures on Diet and Regimen." Sir John Sinclair, in allusion to it, judiciously observes, "I have no doubt of the superiour healthiness, in the winter time, of rising by daylight, and using candlelight at the close of the day, than rising by candlelight, and using it some hours before daylight approaches." It remains to be ascertained by which system the eyes are least likely to be affected. Dr. Franklin in one of his ingenious essays, has some fine observations on early rising; and makes an amusing ealculation of the saving that might be made in the city of Paris alone, by using the sunshine instead of candles. This saving he estimates at 96,000,000 of livres, or £4,000,000 sterling. This is mentioned in a satirical vein, but probably there is a great deal of truth in the statement. deed, if people were to go sooner to bed, and get up earlier, it is inconceivable what suns might be saved; but, according to the absurd custom of polished society, day is, in a great measure, converted into night, and the order of things reversed in a manner at once capricious and hurtful. In To conclude: the same law which regulates our desire for food, also governs sleep. As we indulge in sleep to moderation or excess, it becomes a blessing or a curse-in the one case recruiting the energies of nature, and diffusing vigour alike over which weighs like a nightmare upon the spirit of the the mind and frame: in the other, debasing the sluggard. The man who rises betimes, is in the character of man, stupifying his intellect, enfeebling fair way of laying in both health and wealth; while his body, and rendering him useless alike to others he who dozes away his existence in unnecessary and himself. The glutton, the drunkard, and the sleep, will acquire neither. On the contrary, he runs every chance of losing whatever portion of them he may yet be in possession of, and of sinking fast in the grade of society a bankrupt both in person and in purse. sloven bear the strictest affinity to each other, both in the violation of nature's laws, and in the consequences thence entailed upon themselves. What in moderation is harmless or beneficial, in excess is a curse; and sleep carried to the latter extreme, may be pronounced an act of intemperance almost as The most striking instances of the good effects of early rising, are to be found in our peasantry and much as excessive eating or drinking. BATTLE MONUMENT, BALTIMORE. The Battle Monument was erected in 1815, at Baltimore, to the memory of those who fell bravely defending that city from the attack of the British, at North Point and the bombardment of Fort M'Henry, on the 12th and 13th of September, 1814. It cost about 60,000 dollars. For perfect propriety of design, as well as for the masterly execution of its various parts, it is not equalled by any work of similar character in this or any other country. It was planned by MAXIMILIAN GODEFROY, who presented the drawings to the city, and directed its construction. It is entirely of pure white marble, and rests upon a square plinth or terrace of the same material, forty feet square, and four feet high, at each angle of which is placed erect a brass cannon, having a ball, as it were, issuing from its mouth. Between the cannon and along the verge of the platform, extends a railing or chevauxdefrise of brass-headed spears, the beauty and effect ⚫ of which are much heightened by the disposal, at equal distances, of eight fasces, forming a part of and supporting the railing. These fasces are composed of corresponding spears bound with iron fillets. The whole protected by massive chains in festoons, suspended from posts of granite, enclosing a walk of five feet on every front. From the platform rises a square Egyptian basement, entirely rusticated, to indicate strength. It is composed of eighteen layers of stone, to signify the number of the states which formed this confederation at the period of the event which the monument commemorates. The style of this basement is especially consecrated to tombs. It is surmounted by a cornice, each of the four angles of which bears an elegantly executed Griffin, with an eagle's head, as an emblem of the eagle of the Union. The decorative hieroglyphick, having been dedicated to the sun, and often employed by the ancients in front of their temples, is, therefore, regarded as the emblem of glory and veneration. A winged globe adorns each centre of the Egyptian cornice, symbolical of eternity and the flight of time. On each of the four fronts of the basement is a false door, in the antique style, closed with a single tablet of black marble-imparting the character of a cenotaph, with the remains of the dead deposited therein. Three steps to ascend to these doors, are intended to indicate the three years of the war. We now carry the description up to the principal part of the monument, which presents the appearance of a fasces, (symbolical of the Union,) the rods of which are bound by a fillet-on this are inscribed in letters of bronze, the names of the brave, who were killed in defending their city; and who, by their glorious death, strengthened the bands of the Union. Around the top of the fasces are bound a wreath of laurel, and a wreath of cypress, the first expressive of glory, the other sepulchral and mourning. Between these wreaths, in letters of bronze, are inscribed the names of the officers who perished at the shrine of glory. They are : JAMES LOWRY DONALDSON, 3d Lieutenant Nicholson's artillerists. The names of the non-commissioned officers and privates, who were killed in the action, as inscribed on the fillet binding the fasces, are : |