MISCELLANY. B. J. L. red by the pall of night, he sped in safety to the at the same altar. It was Pietro and the sister For the Poughkeepsie Casket. anates from God's vast throne, and hear the mu. 'Heaven be praised! exclained Victorine, sic of the rolling spheres as they revolve around falling upon her knees in an attitude of devo- the centre of unknown attractions, force in tion. Whither, oh whither shall I fly to meet mystic circles. Spirits of heaven are now hov. him? Tell me, tell me, messenger of joy,ering around me, and breathe in my ear sweet where shall I embrace my Costello ?' songs of rapture; the rustle of their wings is 'Even here, at the altar,' replied the stranger, like the sigh of leaves when the soft zephyr casting off his disguise, and changing his voice. moves among their quivering branches, and 'Here shall Costello embrace his Victorine; here their hallowed voice stirs the eternity within will he renew his vows, and again supplicate me-and aspirations arise from my heart's the smiles of Heaven to beam upon their union. warm altar to the great throne of uncreated Oh constancy, thy name is woman! exclaimed power. The wings of seraphim seem wafting Costello, pressing his fainting bride to his bo-me in thought far through the bright boundless som. 'Whatever storms agitate the ocean of ether. Oh for the freedom of unbodied life, to life, so long as hope gleams amid the darkness, roam where Thought never ventured. But so long thy constancy sits at the helm.' Fancy halts her swift wing, wearied with its lofty flight. I gaze upon the stars, and drink the full deep glory of the midnight heaven, and breathe the breath of pure spiritual existence, until my soul beats, like the captive bird, against its prison grates, and longs to soar and mix with immortality. Are not the stars immortal, and do they not live forever in joy and light? and have they not looked down from age to age upon this distant world, and watched its evolutions-viewed its face change beneath the overwhelming flood-its cities sink beneath the shock of the earthquake-its" 'Forgive me,' murmured Victorine, forgive my distrust in the promise of thy return which hope held out. Pardon Pietro, for my sake, for I have loved him tenderly. That affection which burned so warmly for thee, I transferred to him, for I deemed my Costello an inhabitant of Heaven.' Tokens of friendship were exchanged between Costello and Pietro, the priest pronounced his benediction, and the unbidden guest carried away the bride in triumph. A few months after, two plighted ones stood mountains belch destruction-its boasted empires fall-its armies crushed in battle-ita proud kings fade from earth-its ancient mon. umental grandeur crumble into dust? Yet they roll on, creatures of life-a beaming es sence a mysterious throng of heavenly pa. geantry. But is there not a region far above that envious height-above the stars, where be ings live forever, and no darkness comes? where light, unborrowed from the sun, exists forever-where storms do not dim its brightness, and where rapture never dies? Yes, there is light, far above this sky-bound ceilingeternal light! joy unsubdued, and everlasting life! If there is such a thing as sin I do not feel it now, for this is a holy hour-nothing exists to me but heaven and its pure inhabitants, and all worldly thoughts are drowned in high communing. If there is such a thing as pain I have forgotten now what it is, for Heaven's calm,pure happiness is mine. This is a peaceful hour, and I could deem myself already entered on immortal ground, if this clog of clay did not assure me I am yet of earth, and have, per chance, to witness and endure long years of pain, and wo, and sin; and though always near, yet the dark vale of Death is unpassed by me. Well, if it must be so, welcome the hour that breaks these mortal shackles and lets my spirit loose on the wings of life to find its native element and long-saught home, if Heaven at last be mine. Bright sister-spirits of unknown existence, would that your forms could be perceived by mortal eye-that I could hold sweet converse with you, and forget that I am mortal. Oh, there is something within that tells me I was destined for a higher sphere-that heaven was made for me-for all who accept the gift and mount upon the ladder of Faith, as the Word of Life directs. This life is not our destiny-it is but the prelude to an eternal state-a mere beginning of existence, which, when once begun,shall never cease to be. Life! what art thou nowwhat art thou doomed to be ?—a shade, a sub. stance-dream-reality-a blessing or a curse -a moment here- an eternity hereafter! Dread thought-yet big with hope! Shunned, yet ever longed for! Eternity! eternity! my soul is lost in that vast subject, and I shrink appalled from the unmeasured time to come-no more I ask to search its hidden span; it will soon unfold to me, and I shall forever dwell in its changeless realm, no more to feel emotions known on earth, or think or live as I do now. Until then, the mysteries of Fate are hid, and all lies buried in the world to come. DOMESTIC LIFE AMONG THE Indians. Among the many amiable traits which dis. guish the character of the American Indians, that of conjugal affection and fidelity is not the lest remarkable. When a couple is newly mar ried, the husband, without saying a single word upon the subject, takes considerable pains to skill and ability in the art of hunting, to make please his wife, and by repeated proofs of his her sensible that she can be happy with him, and that she will never want while they live to gether. At break of day he will be off with his gun, and often by breakfast time return home with a deer, turkey, or some other game. He endeavors to make it appear that it is in his power to bring provisions home whenever he 'Why, by Indians, to be sure.' 'No, no,' replied pleases; and his wife, proud of having such a In the year 1762, (says Mr. Heckerwelder, in A CELESTIAL REVERIE. THE WIFE OF OSCEOLA. which ye have elevated to an imperishable im. mortality. You have caught Indians and they have got away from you; and who can stand before the might and power of your arms? You have trailed the savage to his hammock, and he has trailed you back to your camp. You have tied sentinels to savages, and they have run a There comes, to the thoughtful and contem-way with your sentinels. In short, what have plative man, a peculiar sense of serene majesty, you not done to elevate your country's honor in when twilight falls upon the earth in spring the eyes of other nations! Have you not borne time. The heart is then a devout worshipper fatigue? Have you not marched up the hill in the great cathedral of nature. Low, deep-to- and then marched down again? And after all ned harmonies seem to vibrate in the still and your conquests and inimitable achievements, is solemn air; and faint mellow beams, fading ev- it not a most villainous shame, that you are ery moment, steal from the stained windows of compelled to sit here on the grass and eat turtle. the west, as one by one the evening lights 'go soup without a drop of wine in it upon their watch.' But when twilight deepens into night, the wide o'er-hanging firmament— that 'majestical roof fretted with golden fires'— There was a touching commentary on woman's in its bright and countless host of worlds, over-worth displayed in the dying hour of the SemiIt very seldom happens that an Indian conde-whelms the rapt gazer with awe, at the power nole chieftain. The stern old warrior who had and majesty of the Great Architect. 'Are those gone through life without having in appearance bright orbs,' he exclaims, inhabitable worlds || done aught to win the imperishable love of wolike this of ours? Lo! even when we gaze,|| man, yet passed away from the earth with his one falls far down the deep blue vault, and van-head pillowed on a female bosom, and the eye ishes away. Was a world, in the inscrutable of affection watched the decaying fires of his providence of the Supreme, then blotted from own. Cold as the heart of the savage is suppo|| being? Is our universe but as a star, to the sed to be in regard to the social and domestic dwellers of those suspended spheres, and will be feelings, the death couch of Osceola yields triseen ages hence, from yon gleaming orbs, sud- || umphant evidence of the Indian's submission in denly to fall and fade, like a transient meteor in || the sway of the affections. A captive, and to the sky? He alone knoweth, who spreadeth || add to the bitterness of imprisonment, treacher. ously captured; smarting under a sense of his nation's many wrongs; feeling that with his death passed away the sole chance for the deliverance of his people from the avaricious power of the white man, it may well be conceived that the soul of the chief was filled with emotion,and that he had few feelings to spare in the exercises of the love and sympathies of life. But the pow er of woman mastered the keen remembrances of the Indian's ills, and the voice of his faithful wife, as her arms supported his head and wiped from his brow the death damps, fell gratefully and soothing upon the ebbing senses of the captive. In witnessing the entire devotion and patient love, he forgot his wrongs, and the indomitable spirit, so often flashed in the van of battle, and fanning the leaves of the green wood with the breath of war, passed away with a murmur of love to her, the companion of his freedom, and the willing sharer of his prison. scends to quarrel with his wife, or abuse her, does not tell his wife on what day or at what time he will be back again, which he never, when they are on good terms, neglects to do, she is at once put to shame by her neighbors, who soon suspecting something, do not fail to put such questions to her as she either cannot or is ashamed to answer. When he at length does return, she endeavors to let him see, by her at. tentions, that she has repented, though neither speak to each other a single word on the subject of what has passed. And as his children, if he have any, will, on his return, hang about him, and soothe him with their caresses, he is, on their account, ready to forgive, or at least to say nothing unpleasant to their mother. If these traits in the conduct of the 'untutored Indian,' in domestic life, put the manners of more civilized nations to the blush, how much more severe is the reproach to social life contained in the following account: the earth on nothing! Faint glimpses are in- HIGH LIVING. The troops in Florida, while near the coast, feed upon oysters, turtle, fish, etc., which are perhaps the best that this or any other country can afford. A party of officers were recently engaged in the exercise of their respective talents upon a meal got up a la mode, from the carcass of a fine green turtle; silently and solemnly were they doing more for themselves and their country than they had performed for months before, when one of them whirled a spoonful of the soup in the air, and sprung upon his feet, much to the surprise of his companions, who had always thought him to be one of the most quiet among them. Many conjectures were quietly indulged in reference to this strange feat, when the young officer relieved himself as follows: In the year 1771, (says the author already quoted,) while I was residing on the Big Beaver, I passed by the door of an Indian, who was a trader, and had consequently a quantity of goods in his house. He was going with his wife to Pittsburg, and they were shutting up the house, as no person remained in it during their absence. This shutting up was nothing else than putting a large hominy pounding block, with a few sticks of wood, outside against the door, so as to keep it closed. As I was looking at this man with attention, while he was so employed, he addressed me in these words: 'See, my friend, this is an Indian lock that I am put- 'Officers, soldiers, and Indian hunters, of the ting to my door.' I answered, 'Well enough; || American army, you have been for some months but I see you leave much property in the house; engaged in treading down the flowers of Florida, are you not afraid that those articles will be sto- and eating turtle soup to the glory of your counlen while you are gone? Stolen! by whom?try and of your own unconquerable spirits, NUISANCES. The idle levy a tax upon the industrious, when, by frivolous visitations, they rob them of their time. Such persons beg their daily hap piness from door to door, as beggars do their dai ly bread; and, like them, sometimes meet with a rebuff. A mere gossip ought not to wonder if we evince signs that we are tired of him, see. ing that we are indebted for the honor of his visit solely to the circumstance of his being tired of himself. He sits at home till he has accumulated an intolerable load of ennui, and he sallies forth to distribute it among his ac quaintances. PLAGUES OF THE DAY. An incessant talker, an aching tooth, a dull razor, and a fop, are a few of the greatest plagues of the day. 44 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 'Flowers,' says the fair authoress of The Gar. land of Flora, are certainly among the most beautiful productions of nature. They excite a lively interest in pure and tasteful minds, and consequently, their cultivation has always been a favorite pursuit of many persons, and they have also been the constant theme of poetical illustration. So strong and natural is the inte rest excited by them, that even national manners and customs in all countries, and all ages, have derived from them some of their most magnifi. cent traits.' Flowers have been, from the earliest times, used as the poetic symbols of sentiments-the eloquent yet silent language of the passions: by blossom is expressed hope, joy, fear, despair, anger, grief, love, jealousy, devotion, piety, &c. 'In eastern lands they talk in flowers, And they tell in a garland their loves and cares; Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers, On its leaves a mystic language bears.' PERCIVAL Among others whose symbolic language has become classic, we select from the work already mentioned, some account of the following: The Olive branch has been consecrated to peace; Palm branches to victory; the Laurel to conquests and poetry; the Myrtle to love and pleasure; the Cypress to mourning; and the Wil. low to despondency. The crown of victors in athletic exercises, was frequently composed of Oak leaves. The Oak itself was, with the Misletoe, regarded as sacred to the ancient Britons. The most honorable reward of the Roman patriot was the civic crown, composed of unwreathed leaves. The Ivy and the Vine were associated with festive mirth. LAUREL. The fabled origin of the Laurel is this: Daphne, daughter of the river Pencus, offended by the persecutions of Apollo, implored succor of the gods, who changed her into a Laurel tree. A pollo crowned his head with the leaves, and ordered that forever after the tree should be sacred to him; but when bestowed on the con queror, it is only to be considered that he deserves immortality from him. A crown of Lau. rel was given by the Greeks to their athlete; and by the Romans, to those who negotiated a peace. MYRTLE The fabled origin of the Myrtle, so named, is from Myrsine, or Myrene, a Grecian female,and priestess in the temple of Venus. She was a great favorite of Minerva; and Venus, as a proof of her regard, changed her into a Myrtle, which at the same time she decreed should be green throughout the year. The beauty of the leaf, the flower, and the tree, have ever been celebrated. The Myrtle grows naturally in Asia, Africa, and the south of Europe; and flourishes best near the sea-coast. Myrtle was the symbol of authority for magistrates in Athens. CYPRESS. pined, and dying, was changed by Apollo into a mark the perspective breadth of the arches and Pity, the offspring of Love and Sorrow, wore on her head a garland composed of her father's Myrtles, and her mother's Cypress. The Willow requires a moist soil, usually growing on the borders of small streams and rivers. Virgil informs us that in olden times, Willow was the badge of mourning, worn by herdsmen and shepherds. IVY. In Egypt the Ivy was consecrated to Osiris, Female dependence and constancy have, in Let A be the base line, c the horizontal line, and an imaginary point D, where all the lines of the above diagram would vanish, be the centre of the picture, and c the point of distance. Draw the line sa equal to the height of the bridge; the vanishing line an which will give Tradition gives the Cypress a mournful ori- the top, and AD the bottom of the bridge. Next gin, and we find it ever devoted to mournful mark off upon the base line ▲ the distances 1 2 thought, or sad solemnities. From Ovid we 345, which are equal to the breadth of the three learn that Cyparissus, son of Telephus of Cea, arches and the piers between them, and rule was beloved by Apollo. Having accidentally lines from each figure to o; where the points killed the favorite stag of his friend, he grieved, in which these lines intersect the line ad will In the following example, you have represented a road in three different positions-up-hill, level, and down-hill. To represent a road going up-hill, as the left hand road in the above figure, the lines which form the sides should be drawn so that if continued they would vanish in a point above the horizontal line, remembering that the steeper the road the higher will be the vanishing point. When the road is to be perfectly level, as the middle one in the picture passing over the bridge, the sides would meet in the horizontal line. Where the road goes down-hill, the lines which form the sides would meet, if continued, below the horizontal lines, as in the right hand road. The figures on a road going down-hill, should always be represented with their heads below the horizon, for in no case should they be higher than the eye of the spectator. B. J. L. AN INCIDENT, OR A BIT OF RO- A few years ago, when but a single steamboat made its semi-monthly voyage upon Lake Erie, from Buffalo to Detroit, touching at Erie, Cleveland, Sandusky, &c., and when its arrival and departure at either place was an incident that created no little bustle, we were standing among the crowd upon the wharf at Buffalo, watching the passengers hurrying on board the Superior, Capt. Sherman, which was in a few minutes to take its departure for Detroit. There was a large number of passengers, mostly consisting of emigrants to the then latest-found land of promise, Michigan. Among the different groups upon the deck were a couple some what past the meridian of life, who were in earn. est conversation with a young man, while a fe. male of blooming seventeen,' their daughter, stood listening to the discussion with a look of deep absorption, which betrayed the intense interest she felt in the subject. We learned afterwards that the couple had been long attached to each other, but the young man had been unable to obtain the consent of || In the autumn of 1818, her late majesty, the parents to marry their daughter. She was Queen Charlotte, visited Bath, accompanied by an only child, and the circumstances of her lov- the Princess Elizabeth. The waters soon effect er were not such as answered the views they ed such a respite from pain in the royal patient, had for her. Business had called the young man that she proposed an excursion to a part of some from home for several weeks, and on his return, celebrity in the neighborhood, then the estate of to his great surprise and chagrin, he found that a rich widow, belonging to the society of Friends. Mr. S., the father of his beloved, had sold his Notice was given of the Queen's intention, and farm, and with his wife and daughter had de- a message returned that she should be welcome. parted for Michigan. James thought he saw Our illustrious traveller had, perhaps, never bethrough the motive of this movement, and, learn-fore held any personal intercourse with a meming that they had gone but a few days, his reso- ber of the persuasion whose votaries never vollution was at once taken to follow, unprepared untarily paid taxes to 'the man George, called as he was for the journey, either with ready king by the vain ones.' The lady and gentleman money or change of apparel. He gave no sleep who were to attend the august visitants had but to his eyes nor slumber to his eye-lids, till he was feeble ideas of the reception to be expected. It on the way, and lessening, as he hoped, the 'dis- was supposed that the Quaker would, at least, tance between himself and the object of his af. say thy majesty, thy highness, or madam. fections. As the departure of the boat did not take place till two days after the arrival of the parents and daughter at Buffalo, fortunately for the young man, he arrived before they had placed the Lake between the two lovers ; and when the dejected maiden stepped upon the boat, she was more surprised and overjoyed to behold him, than her parents were vexed. The latter testified their displeasure at his thus following them, in terms little calculated to strengthen his hopes of final success, and though he urged his suit with them with all the eloquence he could command, he still found them inflexible. At length the moment of parting arrived the last bell' was rung-the word was given for those who were not going with the boat, to leave, and the order to cast off' from the captain was heard. With a mingled look of affection and re gret, James extended his hand to Mary, from whose eyes streamed the fast-falling drops. What was the whole world to them at that moment?-they forgot the gaping multitude, and everything, but each other-their hearts, now about to be severed, clung the closer. As the 'farewell' was uttered, Mary held his hand with a nervous grasp, while, quick as thought, she threw her disengaged arm first round her mother's neck, and then round her father's, imprinting a burning kiss upon the cheek of each, and ejacu lating, Farewell, father-farewell, mothercome James'—ere her parents could find time to remonstrate, sprung with her lover from the boat to the wharf! The boat moved majestically on her way, while a shout of delight burst from the surrounding crowd, who had witnessed the whole scene and had warmly sympathised with the lovers. The conflict between filial duty and affection, and love, had been a violent struggle in the breast of the maiden, but love triumphed; father and mother were forsaken, and now went on their way lonely-while the lover bore back in triumph to his humble dwelling the joy of his heart, and the sharer of his future prosperity or adversity. Philadelphia Herald. The royal carriage arrived at the lodge of the park, punctual to the appointed hour. No pre||parations appeared to have been made,no hostess or domestic stood ready to greet the guest. The porter's bell was rung; he stepped forth deliber. ately, with his broad-brimmed beaver on; and unbendingly accosted the lord in waiting, with What's thy will, friend? This was almost unanswerable. Surely,' said the nobleman, your lady is aware that her majesty-Go to your mistress, and say the Queen is here. No, truly,' answered the man, needeth not; I have no mistress nor lady, but friend Rachel Mills expecteth thine-walk in!' The Queen and Princess were handed out, and walked up the avenue. At the door of the house stood the plainly attired Rachel, who without even a courtesy, but with a cheerful nod, said, 'How's thee do, friend? I am glad to see thee and thy daughter. I wish thee well! Rest and refresh thee and thy people before I show thee my grounds.' What could be said to such a person? Some breed of poultry, hitherto unknown to her, and remarked, with characteristic evasion, They are rare, as thou sayest; but if any are to be purchased in this land, or in any other country, I know few women likelier than thyself to procure them with ease.' Her royal highness now more plainly expressed a desire to purchase some of those she now beheld. 'I do not buy and sell,' answered Rachel Mills. Perhaps you will give me a pair ?' observed the Princess, with a conciliating smile. Nay, verily,' replied Rachel, I have refused many friends; and that which I have denied to my own kinswoman, Martha Ash, it becomes me not to grant to any. We have long had it to say that these birds belonged only to our house, and I can make no exceptions in favor of thine.' This is a fact. Some Friends, indeed, are less stiffly starched, but old Quaker families still exist, who pique themselves on their independent indifference to rank, and respect their fellow mortals only in proportion to the good they have done in their generation. ADVICE TO A DAUGHTER. There is one more point involved in the gen. cral subject of this letter, which is too important to be omitted-I refer to the deportment which it becomes you to maintain towards the other sex. The importance of this, both as respects yourself and others, you can scarcely estimate too highly. On the one hand, it has much to do in forming your own character; and I need not say that any lack of prudence in this respect, even for a single hour, may expose you to evils which no subsequent caution could enable you effectually to repair. On the other hand, the conduct of every female who is of the least consideration, may be expected to exert an influence on the character of every gentleman with whom she associates; and that influence will be for good or evil, as she exhibits or fails to exhibit a deportment that becomes her. Indeed, so commanding is this influence, that it is safe to cal culate upon the character of any community, from knowing the prevailing standard of female character; and that can scarcely be regarded as an exaggerated maxim, which declares that women rule the world. Let me counsel you then never to utter an expression, or do an act that even looks like soliciting any gentleman's attention. Remember that every expression of civility, to be of any value, must be perfectly voluntary; and any wish on your part, whether directly or indirectly expressed, to make yourself a favorite, will be certain to awaken the disgust of all who know it. I would not recommend any thing like a prudish or affected reverse, but even this were not so unfortunate an extreme as an excessive forwardness. While you modestly accept any attentions which propriety warrants, let there be no attempt at artful insinuation on the one hand, or at taking a heart by storm on the other. Be not ambitious to be considered a belle; in deed, I had rather you would be almost any thing else that does not involve gross moral obliquity, than this. It is the fate of most belles that they become foolishly vain-think of nothing beyond personal display-and not unfre quently sacrifice themselves in a mad bargain, which involves their destinies for life. The more of solid and enduring esteem you enjoy, the better; and you ought to gain whatever of this you can by honorable means. But to be admi. red, and caressed, and flattered for mere accidental qualities, which involve nothing of intel lectual or moral worth, ought to render any girl who is the subject thereof, an object of pity. You are at liberty to desire the good opinion of every gentleman of your acquaintance, but it would be worse than folly in you to be ambitious of a blind admiration. VARIETY. TO MAKE HOME HAPPY. DRESS OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. A German traveller, who visited England du. Nature is industrious in adorning her domin. ring the reign of Elizabeth, gives a minute deions; and man, to whom this beauty is address-scription of her. She had,' says he, 'in her ears two very rich pearls, with drops; she wore false ed, should feel and obey the lesson. Let him, hair, and that red; upon her head she had a too, be industrious in adorning his domain-in small crown, reported to have been made of making his home, the dwelling of his wife and some of the gold of the celebrated Lunnebourgchildren, not only convenient and comfortable, table; her bust was uncovered, as all the Engbut pleasant. Let him, as far as circumstances lish ladies have it, till they marry; and she had will permit, be industrious in surrounding it with on a necklace of exceeding fine jewels ; her hands pleasant objects-in decorating it within and were small, her fingers long, and her stature nei. without with things that tend to make it agree-ther tall nor low; her air was stately, her manner of speaking mild and obliging. That day she was dressed in white silk, bordered with pearls of the size of beans, over it a mantle of I will only add, that you ought to be on your guard against the influence of flattery; rely up. on it, the man who flatters you, whatever he may profess, is not your friend. It were a muchable and attractive. Let industry make home kinder office, and a mark of real friendship, to the abode of neatness and order-a place which admonish you tenderly, yet honestly, of your brings satisfaction to every inmate, and which in faults; if you yield a little to flattery, you have absence draws back the heart by the fond assoplaced yourselves upon dangerous ground; if ciations of comfort and content. Let this be you continue to yield, you are probably undone. done, and this sacret spot will become more surely the scene of cheerfulness and peace. Ye parents, who would have your children happy, be industrious to bring them up in the midst of a pleasant, a cheerful, and a happy home. Waste not your time in accumulating wealth for them; but plant in their minds and souls, in the way proposed, the seeds of virtue and prosperity. W. B. SPRAGUE. PERSIAN WOMEN. ANIMAL MAGNETISM. According to the doctrine inculcated by Ma. homet, the women are not only excluded from all society, but go about so little that a traveller might pass through the whole country, and not see a female face; as the Persians are, perhaps, even more jealous than the Turks. The Armenian, and other Christian women living among Hood says 'Take the wildest freaks of the them, are obliged to conform to Mahometan most fuddled, muddled, bepudled soaker-such law in this respect, and cover their faces, and as trying to light his pipe at the pump, attemptwrap up their figures in a large sort of domino, ing to wind up his plug with a watch-key, or or 'feradgee,' in the same manner as the native requesting from a damp bed in the gutter to be women, or they would be insulted. So naturali. tucked in-and are they a bit, or a whit, or a zel are the Christians to the customs, that it jot, or a what not, more absurd, more extravawas the cause of great disappointment to us up-gant, or more indicative of imbecility or unreaon one occasion. An Italian doctor, who had been lately married to an Armenian, was polite enough to endeavor to induce his bride to uncover her face for our curiosity and amusement; but his efforts to persuade her that it would not be improper, were in vain; the lady even smoked a kalikum, (the Persian hookah,) while we were in company with her, but kept it under her veil; in vain we told her it was unfair she should have the opportunity of seeing us through the little holes of her dress, and that we could not be permitted the advantage of seeing her, even with her husband's consent. She felt it would be extremely indecent to show her face; and we were obliged to satisfy ourselves with the as surance of her husband that she was not worth secing, and the great probability that she would have accidentally dropped aside her veil, if she had any hopes of exciting our admiration. BEAUTY. 'Gaze not on beauty too much,' says old Quarls, 'lest it blast thee; nor too long, lest it blind thee; nor too near, lest it burn thee. If thou like it, it deceives thee; if thou love it, it disturbs thee; if thou desire after it, it destroys thee. If virtue accompany it, it is the heart's paradise; if vice associate it, it is the soul's purgatory. It is the wise man's bon-fire, and the ool's furnace.' WIT. Swift says, 'A very little wit is valued in a woman, as we are pleased with a few words spoken plain by a parrot.' son, than the vagary of a somnambulist gravely Back's Journal, or a back number of the Retro- LAZINESS. Readers, perhaps you never heard of a boy who took a stint, (as the phrase is now cast,) to mow three acres of grass in as many days? Presuming you have not, we will relate it. black silk, shot with silver threads; her train was very long, the end of it borne by a marchioness; instead of a chain, she had an oblong collar of gold and jewels. As she went along, in all this state and magnificence, she spoke ve. y graciously, first to one, then to another-whether foreign ministers or those who attended for different reasons-in English, French, and Italian; for, besides being well-skilled in Greek and Latin, and the languages I have mentioned, she is mistress of Spanish, Scotch, and Dutch.' WHO SHALL HAVE THE PRIZE ? ers, and the judge was to award a prize to the one pronounced the most beautiful. Who shall have the prize?' said the rose, stalking forward in all the consciousness of beauty. 'Who shall have the prize?' said the other flowers, advan cing, each filled with conscious pride, and each imagining it would be herself. I'll take a peep at those beauties,' thought the violet, as she lay in her humble bed, not presuming to attend the meeting-'I'll see them as they pass;' but as she raised her lowly head to peep out of her hiding place, she was observed by the judge, who immediately pronounced her the most beautiful, because the most modest. he was handsome. The lady thanked him, and A gentleman in company told a young lady We respectfully solicit a translation of the following words. The language, although often used in our country, is very much neglected. We will give a receipt for all arrearages to any of our subscribers who will explain them in a manner satisfactory to us. 8 T I N RE On the first morning he viewed the field. 'Pooh! said he, I can mow it in two days;' so he played that day. The next morning he look-replied, 'I wish I could say as much for you! 'And so you might,' returned the other, if you ed at it again, and after scratching his head, and ruminating a short time upon the subject, he made no more of telling a lie than I do.' came to the conclusion that if he worked right smart,' he could accomplish the work in one day-so he spent that day as he had done the day before. On the morning of the third and last day, he arose late, and it was near ten o'clock be. fore he reached the field. After casting his eyes over it, he began to doubt whether he could ac complish his task in one day; the field looked considerably larger than it had the day previous. He stretched himself under a shady tree, to reflect upon the subject; presently he heard the dinner horn. It was noon! He jumped upswung his scythe over his shoulder, and turned his face homewards, muttering to himself that he 'warn't a-going to kill himself, if the grass never got mowed; and he'd be darn'd to darna- | tion, if there was a man in the country that could mow that confounded big piece of meadow in one day, and for his part he should'nt try it.' So, after eating his dinner, he went to play as usual. There are many like him. SIGNS. If you see a girl more anxious to know who she is to marry than to obtain an education, it is a sign she is very foolish. If you see people peeping into others' win. dows, it is a sign they are very impudent. If you see a man pretending to tell fortunes, it is a sign he ought to be sent to the house of correction. If you see a boy drinking rum, it is a sign he will become a drunkard. |