'I don't care about admiration,' said the little lady. I should be satisfied that people should'nt like me as that they should.' "Then, cousin, I think it's a pity we all like you so well,' said Alice, with a good humored smile. If Alice had penetration, she never made a severe use of it. "But really,cousin,' said the little lady, 'I should not think such a girl as you are, would think about dress or admiration, and all that. 'Well, but don't you think that you are better their play, and the old men from the chimney than most people ? 'As far as I can tell, I think I am better than 'I did not ask you what you KNEW, but what corner, to listen to the mysterious adventures of The Ancient Mariner; and the blood rushed to the maiden's check at the gentle tale of the affectionate Genevieve. Crabbe held up the mirror to the harsh features of the most biting penury, and unlocked the sympathies of the bosom with his simple 'Annals of the Poor.' At such a season as this, and when the sky was on fire with the glare of Byron's reputation, Mr. Montgomery solicited the suffrages of the people and obtained them slowly but certainly. His was a species of poetry which steals gradually over the heart with a sober and soothing influArcadian valley, illuminated by antique paence. He tempted the painter with no story of geantry; nor seduced the enthusiast with a legend of vengeance or of passion; he brought 'Really, James, I wish you had come a minute nothing but what Purity might have written, sooner, to hear Alice's confessions." Well, then, I THINK that he likes me best, said Alice. 'I don't know what kind of a girl you think I Just then the door opened, and in walked the am,' said Alice; “for my part, I only pretend to identical James Martyrs. Alice blushed, looked be a coramon human being, and not ashamed of a little comical, and continued on with her sewcommon human feeling. If God has made using, while the lady began: so that we may love admiration, why should we not honestly say so? I love it, you love it, and every body loves it; and why should not every body say so? 'But you have no love for it in particular, I suppose you mean to say,' said Alice; 'that is just the way the matter is disposed of. Every body is willing to acknowledge a general wish for the good opinion of others, but half of the world are ashamed to own it when it comes to a particular case. Now, I have made up my mind, that if nothing but what Lucretia might rehearse. What may become of his name or his writings,' What has she confessed?' said James. Why, that she is handsomer and better than is the remark of the poet in the preface to his most of folks. collected works, it is not for him to anticipate That's nothing to be ashamed of,' said here; he has honestly endeavored to serve his James. own generation; and, on the whole, has been 'O! that's not all; she wants to look pretty, careful to leave nothing behind him to make the and loves to be admired, and all' world worse for his having existed in it.' 'It sounds very much like her, said James, looking at Alice. 'O! but besides that,' said the lady, 'she has been preaching a discourse in justification of vanity and self-love." it is correct in general, it is correct in particular, I preach, said Alice, for I do think your mem'And the next time you shall take notes when and I mean to own it both ways.' 'But somehow it seems mean!" said the little lady. It is mean to live for it, to be selfishly engrossed in it; but it is not mean to enjoy it when it comes, or even to seek it, if we neglect no higher interest in doing so. All that God made us to feel, is dignified and pure, unless we pervert it.' 'But, Alice, I never heard any one speak out so frankly.' 'Almost all that is innocent and natural may be spoken out; and as for that which is not innocent and natural, it ought not even to be thought.' 'But can every thing be spoken which thought?' may be 'No; we have an instinct which teaches us to be silent sometimes; but if we speak at all, let it be done in simplicity and sincerity. 'Now, for instance, Alice,' said the lady, 'it is ory is remarkably happy.' Never will it be known, said Cowper, till the day of judgement, what he has done who hast written a book. That amirable writer felt tha the author was treasuring up a life within a life, condensing and distilling his intellectual spirit for the benefit or the destruction of future ages. Mr. Montgomery has directed his compositions mainly to the delight and the improvement of the young, employing the golden chains of a 'You see, James,' said the lady, that Alice graceful and cultivated fancy to draw up their makes it a point to speak exactly the truth, contemplations above the cloud of sense. He when she speaks at all, and I've been puzzling has met with his reward even here, in the admi. her with questions. I really wish you would ration and esteem of the wise and the good. It ask her some, and see what she will say. But is not, therefore, to adopt the imagery of his mercy! there's uncle Ccome to take beautiful tribute to Burns, upon his literary tal| me to ride. I must run.' And off flew the lit-ents alone that we love to dwell, whether we tle humming-bird, leaving James and Alice tetecompare him to the hummingbird gliding over flowers-the eagle,with thunder in his trainthe wood-lark, filling the heavens with musicor the nightingale, melting our hearts with love; for none of these faculties in particular do we There is one question, Alice, which I wish || dwell upon his character; it is rather for his noyou would answer.' a.tate. "There is really one question,' said James, clearing his voice Alice looked up. : Alice did not inquire what the question was, but began to look very solemn and just then I went out of the room, and shut the door; and so I never knew what it was that Alice's friend very innocent and natural, as you say, to think James wanted to be enlightened about. this, that, and the other thing of yourself: now, would you speak the truth if any one asked you on this point?' JAMES MONTGOMERY, THE POET. ble advocacy of virtue and detestation of vicc, that devotion delights to hail her 'Bird of Para Church of England Quarterly Review. dise. POWER, Power will intoxicate the best hearts, as wine the strongest heads, No man is wise enough or good enough to be trusted with unlimited power; for whatever qualifications he may have evinced to entitle him to the possession of so dangerous a and if it were at a proper time and place, I would, their carnival. Campbell had delighted all, in longer answer for him, because he can no longer crowd of competitors; the muses were holding privilege, yet, when possessed, others can no THE ARTIST. For the Poughkeepsie Casket. LETTER VII. could have dictated the spirit in which this peti tion was written, but the agonizing and distract the safety and preservation of an adored husband and father? Hard and callous indeed must have been the heart that could read such a petition unmoved and not sympathize with the distressed author. I place it at your disposal, either to publish or reject it, as you may best see fit. Yours, respectfully, flat plank or panel of wood is the cheapest and most convenient, on which the paper may be stretched. To prepare the paper, take a cleaned feelings of a fond and affectionate wife for sponge and water, and completely saturate it; YOUNG LADIES :-After having made a variety then lay it smoothly upon the board, having the of sketches, copied from good engravings or edges to project. Turn up the edges, apply drawings, you may then proceed to sketching strong paste, and then smooth them down with from nature. This will be a pleasing task, for, a clean handkerchief or towel. When dry, all if well done, you have the satisfaction of view-wrinkles will disappear, and it is ready for use. ing original pictures of your own. Nature is the great school, and therein alone can the artist hope to become proficient. She presents copies of every model, animate or inanimate, and fur. || nishes the student with every variety of subject, at a price far less than the simplest picture from the pencil or burin of the artist. In copying subjects from nature, let them be as simple as possible, for sometimes the learner loses a confidence in her powers, in consequence of a failure in producing a correct and pleasing picture of a complicated character. Take for instance the trunk of a tree, a post, or gateway, or any simple object, and be very particular in tracing a correct outline of all its parts. In draw. ing a post, standing near by, copy every ine. quality in the angles or otherwise, every knot or projecting nail. By such minuteness in parts you will soon be enabled to copy a whole correctly, and in this accuracy depends the great beauty of transcripts from nature. Having prepared the paper, the student must be provided with Indian ink, plate, brushes of different sizes formed of camels' hair, or sable, and a cup of clean water. Mix the first tint, of the strength for the sky, with which cover the whole sky and dark parts of the clouds, leaving the white paper for the lights. Every object in the foreground should also be touched with this first tint, except the bright lights upon the erect column and entablature, the ends of the prostrate pillars, and the tops of the dilapidated entablatures. This and the second tint should be laid on with the largest brush; the second tint made somewhat stronger be laid over the darker parts of the clouds, and also over the whole of the drawing, where the last tint was laid, taking care, however, to leave a broad light upon the rampant columns, and the broken ornaments in the extreme foreground. A smaller brush must now be used, and with the third tint, made a little stronger than the others, commence with the most distant objects, as the farthest ruins, making the tint gradually stronger and stronger, till you come to the erect arch and columns, and prostrate ruins in the foreground. This dark tint may be laid on as often as necessary, to give the proper shades to the first objects. To finish, make a very strong tint, almost black, with which make the dark touches of the ruins, and finish up the foliage on the right, when the picture will be completed. The sky, and indeed the whole picture, may be much softened by washing it with a broad flat brush, dipt in clean water. MOST MIGHTY SIR: A. May the blessings of thy God ever await thee and thine! May the sun of glory shine around thy head, and may the gates of plenty, honor and happiness be ever open unto thee and thine! May no sorrows distress thy days, may no grief disturb thy nights, may the pillow of peace kiss thy cheek, and the pleasures of imagination at. tend thy dreams! And when length of days makes thee tired of earthly things, and the cur. tain of death gently closes the last sleep of existence, may the angels of thy God attend thy bed, and take care that the expiring lamp of life shall not receive one rude blast to hasten its departure! Oh then, hearken to the voice of distress, and grant the petition of thy humble servant. Spare, oh spare the father of my chil dren, my husband, my all that is dear. Consider, oh mighty sir, that he did not become rich by iniquity, but that which he enjoyed was the in heritance of a long line of industrious ancestors, who in those smiling days when the thunder of Great Britain was not heard in the plains of Hindoostan, we reaped our harvest in quiet,and enjoyed our patrimony unmolested. Think, oh think that the God whom thou worshippeth de. lights not in the blood of the innocent. Re. member thine own commandment, Thou shalt not kill,' and obey the orders of heaven-give me back my Almas Ali Chan, and take all our wealth-strip us of our jewels and precious stones, of our gold and our silver, but take not the life of my husband, for innocence is sealed on his brow, and the milk of human kindness flows around his heart. Let us go wandering around deserts, let us become tillers and la. borers in those delightful grounds where we were once lords and masters. Spare, oh spare, mighty sir, his life; let no instrument of death be lifted up against him, for he has committed no crime. Accept our treasures with gratistone above, nearly eighty feet. The drawing || original manuscript, as well as the crime for tude, which thou already hast by force, and ted object, is an excellent plan for the artist to been able to discover, but from the little inform. forget them. My children beseech thee for the In making a complicated sketch, like that of the ruins on our first page, first draw the broken friezes, entablatures and columns, scattered over the foreground. Then draw the large arch in the centre of the picture, taking care to have its diameter to correspond with the intended height of the columns which support it. Then draw the supporting columns of the arch, and the connected ruin on the left. Next proceed to the row of columns on the right, commencing with the nearest one. The entablature which surmounts them should first be sketched, determin. ing the angle of its lines by perspective rules. Then draw the shafts, and finish by completing the capitals. The two figures standing immediately beneath the great arch show its height || paper. by comparison. To this, particular attention should be paid, and the figures should correspond with the height of the ruin. In this example, supposing the figures to be six feet high, the height from the ground to the key-stone of the arch is about sixty-six feet, and to the topmost of a human figure full grown, near any eleva convey to the spectator an adequate idea of the altitude of such object. In our next, we shall describe the manner of making pleasing sketches from nature on tinted B. J. L. For the Poughkeepsie Casket. MESSRS. EDITORS:-The following is a copy of a petition sent by the Princess Almas Ali Chan of the East Indies, to Governor-General Hast ings of Great Britain, in behalf of her husband, which was not granted. The precise date of the which her husband was condemned, I have not ation I have gathered from different sources, I we will remember thee in our prayers and author of their existence. Let that humanity which we have been told glows in the breast of European loveliness, by the tender mercies of the enlightened souls of Englishmen, by the honor, Having completed these principal subjects in the foreground, sketch the ruins in the dim distance, and conclude with the sky and clouds. red between the years 1815 and 1820.* What honesty and natural feelings so dear to her the In this we have merely described the manner of sketching the subject with a pencil. We will now proceed to COLORS. We will commence with Indian ink. It is customary, in using this, to have a white earthen slab, in which are three circular hollows for mixing the tints, and one long one for rubbing up the ink. When this cannot be procured, a clean white plate will answer an excellent purpose, by rubbing the ink on the rim, and making || the tints in the centre. For a drawing-board, a *The accusation made by Hastings was, that the Indian Prince meditated a revolt. This accusation was wholly without foundation, and was made by the miscreant a pretence to seize upon the immense treasures of the Prince, and convert them to his own use. After the petition of the miserable wife was received, Hastings promised the release of the Prince, on condition that his treasures should be given up. This the affectionate wife readily granted, and flew with joy to what was her horror on entering the court, to see the receive her husband from the loathsome dungeon; but lifeless body of her beloved one suspended by the neck at the entrance. This occurred about 1784. In '86' LADIES' DEPARTMENT. ON THE MARRIED STATE, TO MISS -; Knowing that you are shortly to enter a garden, enclosed, and that you are, at present, a stranger to this garden, permit an old friend to give you some account of it. I have travelled every part and every path; know every production of every kind it can possibly yield; and, as my information can do you no harm, it may do you some good. You know there is but one way of entrance. I need hardly tell you that it is extremely gay and glittering-strewed with flowers of every hue and every fragrance, with all that art or imagination can invent. You may fondly hope this scene of rapture may never alter, as you will not see the end of the path when you enter it. To some it proves a short one-and to you it may appear very different in the retrospect. Here, my dear girl, let me caution you not to dream of perfect or perpetual bliss; if you do, experience will show you that it never existed on earth, save in visions or visionary heads. You will meet with many productions in this garden, which are charming to the eye and pleasant to the taste; but they are not all so. Let me just remark, that you are carrying into this garden one of the most delicious and delicate plants in nature-I mean good humor. Don't drop it, or lose it, as many have done soon after they entered, who seldom, if ever, found it again. It is a treasure which nothing can make up to you. When you get to the end of the first walk, which lasts about thirty steps, commonly called honey-moon path, you will see the garden open in a vast variety of views-and here I must caution you against some productions which are nauseous and noxious, and even fatal in their tendency to the unwary and ignorant. There is a low, small plant, which may be scon in almost every path, called Indifference, though not perceived at the entrance. You will always know when near this plant, though you do not see it, by a certain coldness in the air which surrounds it. Contrary to all others, it thrives in cold, and dies in warmth. Whenever you perceive this, change your situation as soon as you can. In the same path is often to be found that ug. ly yellow flower, call Jealousy, which I wish you never to look at. Turn from it as fast as possible for it has the strange quality of tinging the eye that beholds it with a stain which it seldom gets rid of. As you go in, you will meet with many little erooked paths-but do not go into them. I advise you, as a friend, never to attempt it; for though, at the entrance of each is written in large letters, 'In the right,' yet when you get in, in nine cases out of ten,, you will find the true name to be Perverseness, and that you are in the wrong, and will not acknowledge it. This often occasions endless disputes here is a source of perpetual difference, and sometimes of a final separation in the garden. Near this spot you will meet with a sturdy, knotty plant, called Obstinacy, bearing a hard, bitter fruit, which becomes fatal when taken in large quantities. Turn from it-avoid it as you would the plague. Remember this is a trust for which you are accountable to HIM who gave it. That you Just opposite to this, grows that lowly, lovely may be blest with the sweetest productions of shrub, compliance; which, though not pleasant|| this garden-that they may be the delight of to the palate, is salutary and sweet, and produces || your eyes, and that you and they, when the the most delicious fruit in the garden. Never summer of this life is over, may be transplanted be without a sprig of it in your hand-it will of to some happier soil, and flourish in immortal ten be wanted as you go along; if you do not, vigor, in perfect and permanent felicity, is the sincere wish of your affectionate friend. you will surely repent the want of it. All over the garden you may find a useful plant, called Economy. It is of a thriving quality; take a good stock of it as you go in. entirely overlook it-some despise it, and others It adorns and enriches at the same time. Many think they do not want it. It is generally forgotten in the hurry and gaiety with which people enter this place; but the total want of it is commonly paid for with bitter repentance. I must tell you, unless both partake of it, it will answer little end to either. You may, if you please, carry some with you into the garden; but it is a hundred to one if you do not lose it in going in. This is more useful than what you will find there-for it is of another sort. Provide yourself and partner with a proper quantity of it, as soon as you can, when in the place. You observe, as you pass, two or three paths, which run much into one another-I mean those of Regularity, Exactness and Neatness. Do not think, as many do, that when once you are in, you may be careless of your person and dress. Remember, your companion will see some that are not so this indifference will strike his eye, if not offend it. Enter those paths almost as soon as you enter the garden; and take my word for it, if you do you will never get out of them; once fairly in, you are in for life-and the worst of it is, that if you do not find them soon, you will never find them afterward. Near this walk, is found that invaluable shrub, Humility. This, though of no worth in itself, yet joined with other good qualities, is worth them all put together. It is never seen without being admired; and is most amiable when not visible. It is said that 'Virtue is its own reward,”—I am certain that pride is its own punishment. Flee from it as from a conta. gion, which it strongly resembles. It infects and corrupts. Cultivate with all your care the humble plant now mentioned, as the best antidote against this poisonous weed. Allow me here to drop a hint on the subject of cultivation, as that most probably will be your employment. Should you be entrusted with the rearing of a flower, remember two things: first, that it is but a flower, however fair-frail in its nature, and fading at every blast; and secondly, that it is a flower in trust, for the cultivation of which you are accountable to the owner of the garden. Should you be a witness to a blast on its dawning beauties, oh, how your fluttering heart will bleed with tenderness. Let affection sympa. thize. Your feelings may be conceived, but they cannot be described. The young shoot will naturally and insensibly twine around the fibres of your frame. Should it live and thrive, spare no pains to teach the young production how to rise. Weed it, water it, prune it-it will need them all. Without this, many weeds will grow up and poison the very soil on which it grows. A FRIEND TO FEMALE MERIT. TIGHT LACING. A lady of high talents, (Mrs. L. H. Sigour ney,) writes as follows: Habits of tight lacing are the more dangerous, because no one will acknowledge them. These evils that shun the light and shelter themselves in subterfuges are ever the most difficult to remedy. A great part of that energy which might tend to reform, is wasted in helping them to find their hiding places. Has any young lady been known to acknowledge that she was destroying herself that she was even uncomfortable from tight lacing? Yet the suppressed sigh, the suffused countenance, the CONSTRAINED MOVEMENT, express what the lips deny. Pul. monary and spinal diseases, lunacy and the grave, reveal the rest. BEAUTY OF THE EAST. Comstock says, Commend us to the downeast girls, if they are all as pretty as one we tian name was Irene. We would give the other were introduced to the other day. Her Chris name, but that we know it will be her own fault if it is not very soon altered for another; therefore, by exposing her present cognomen, we should give no lasting information. In the first place, we were struck by the easy freedom and elasticity of her movements. The white and red were judiciously mingled on her cheeks by those tasteful painters, Temperance and Exercise. Her form-oh! it was indescribably elegant. There was such a purity, such exquisite sweetness pervading her whole person-and then her voice! She told us she had travelled some. She had been down as far as the British lines, and there was a slight English accent in her tones, which added tenfold to the interest which her naivette and loveliness of person excited. We caught ourselves pronouncing her name for twenty-four hours afterward-Irene ! Irenc! The smiles of the beauteous Irene shall be remembered with the ladies of Rome, who saved their native city from the fury of Corio. lanus.' WOMEN AND MATRIMONY. Most women possess a talent, and by no means an uneducated one, for matrimony. At first, with common-minded girls, it evaporates in flir. tations; when that does not do, they sink into the sentimental, quote poetry, and catch vulgar colds in their heads by the 'baying of the moon,' though, if they can help it, not in sequestered solitude. I have known the sentimental continue after thirty; but, generally speaking, ladies assume a different character at that antiquated maidenly period; they become geolo gists, or moralists, or sectarians, or—any thing but rationalists! An unmarried lady feels herself desperately circumstanced between 30 and 40, and does not consider any of the lords of creation too young or too old. VARIETY. SLAVE MARKET OF CONSTANTINOPLE. From admiring the fair joyous face of nature, and this glorious world, created for our universal enjoyment, what a revulsion of feelings did we experience on being conducted to the slave market, to see those unhappy objects of tyranny and oppression torn from their distant homes and families to minister to the pleasures and passions of their unfeeling tyrants! We entered a large square court, surrounded by covered galleries, in which numbers of Turks were smoking and making bargains. We ascended these galleries by a few steps, and found that they opened upon a succession of rooms, filled with female negresses and mulattoes, some of whom made signs to us as we passed, apparently wishing us to buy them. They were respectably dressed, in the same style as Turkish women out of doors, their black faces being covered up to the tip of the nose in white napkins. Further on we saw several white fair women, past the prime of life. As my companions were descending the gallery, I caught sight of a youthful looking figure in an I made a halt at the door, the girl turned, her veil was hanging back upon her shoulders, and one of the loveliest faces I ever inner room. were taken home by their proprietors, and the mid the luxuries of the season and flowing cups, we enjoyed "The feast of reason and the flow of soul,' in the following sentiments, while the scene was enlivene by the music of my wife's tongue : 1. Our Union-Esto perpetua republica matrimoria-and may it never be embittered by 'party spirit.' Music-'Begone Dull Care.' 2. The state we live in-May it be blessed with a virtuous and numerous population. Music-Lullaby. 3. Domestic Manufactures-Music-Song, My Spinning Wheel.' 4. The heroes who died-for love. Music'Yankee Doodle.' VOLUNTEERS. By me. Good memories to all married la. dies. By my wife. Good manners to all married gentlemen. Music.-Song, 'Come, come, a truce to jealousies.' By me. Our honey-moon-A boisterous morning is often succeeded by a pleasant evening. MusicSmiles and tears.' GRATITUDE, OR THE BOQUET DE NOCE. About 11 or 12 years ago, a lady, accompanied by a young girl evidently suffering from illness, was in the daily habit of attending mass at the house of St. Stephens, in Rouen. On leaving the church she always gave a trifle to a poor beggar, who was regularly stationed at the church door, and the child likewise deposited her offering in his hand, entreating the benefit of his prayers for her recovery. This continued for several years, till at length one day the beg gar disappeared, and no one knew what had be. come of him. Some days ago, a wedding was celebrated at Rouen, M— P——, a wealthy landholder, was about to receive the hand of Mdle. Anastasie L, an amiable and accomplished young lady, but whose family had been much reduced in consequence of the events of 1800. The notary was on the point of offering the pen to the bride and bridegroom, preparatory to their signing the contract of marriage, when a stranger of rather rustic appear. ance entered the room. The stranger, without further ceremony, placed 30,000 franks in bank The Rev. H. Todd gave lately to the Royal notes on the table, and said, addressing the no- Irish Academy a short account of a manuscript tary, Write, sir, the Mdle. Anastasie L- of the four gospels, of the seventh century, and brings her husband a dowry of 30,000 francs. in Irish characters, which is preserved in the The beggar of Severin is come to return to his library of his grace the Archbishop of Canterbu benefactress the money that she lent him.' Anry, at Lambeth. The volume is a small quarto, explanation soon took place. With the money in the minute hand called Caroline, common to collected at the church door, the beggar all Europe in the reign of Charlemagne, but had been able to purchase a piece of land, and by now used only in Ireland, and known as the Idint of industry, and perseverance in his habits rish character. The present volume appears of economy, he had gradually become a wealthy to have belonged to Melbridgid Mac Dornan, or man. 'But never,' said he, did I pass the Mac Tornan, who was Archbishop of Armagh church without thinking of my benefactress; I in the ninth century, and died A. D.925. By knew she was not rich; I heard she was to be him it was probably sent to Athelstan, King of married, and I have brought her my boquet de the Anglo-Saxons, who presented it to the city noce.' It need scarcely be added that the grate- of Canterbury. ful mendicant became an honored guest at the ensuing wedding festival. We lately came across, says the Boston Journal, saw was suddenly presented to my view. She been concluded as we left the market, and, with a white bundle under her arm, she was walked off by her new purchaser, apparently grieved at leaving her companions in misfortune. Between 12 and 1 o'clock, the different slaves ANCIENT MANUSCRIPT OF THE GOSPELS. The facts are inferred from an inscription in Anglo-Saxon characters, (and in the hand of the ninth or beginning of the tenth century,) which occurs on a blank page immediately fol the following account in an old paper, of a 'domestic lowing the genealogy in the first chapter of St. celebration' of the fourth of July. MY CELEBRATION. Conformably to the custom of the country, we celebrated the fourth of July at our house with every possible demonstration of joy; an ac. count of which I beg you to publish in the fol. lowing words: wife did not, as is usual in such cases, request a Matthew. The discovery of this manuscript, and the satisfactory proof which facts afford of its Irish origin, are important, as adding another to the many instances with which we are already acquainted, of the employment of Irish scribes in the transcription of the Scriptures du. ring the sixth and seventh centuries. It is now ascertained that almost all the sacred books so highly venerated by the Anglo-Saxon Church, and left by her early bishops as heir-looms to their respective secs, were obtained in Ireland or from Irish scribes. LEMERY THE ELDER. In 1674, the elder Lemery acquired great and He was the first who threw aside the affected deserved fame at Paris, as a chymical lecturer. and pompous diction habitually indulged in by his predecessors and contemporaries, and adopt. tended to the ready diffusion of his subject, and ed a simple and perspicuous style, which at once to its permanent popularily. When he published his course, 'it sold,' says Fontenelle, like a novel or a satire.' THE CASKET. EDITED BY E. B. KILLEY AND B. J. LOSSING, POUGHKEEPSIE, SATURDAY, AUGUST 11, 1838. DISTINCTIONS.-To the man of ɛense, who views society as a necessary compact of intelligent beings, met for mutual benefit upon the broad ground of EQUALITY, those petty distinctions founded on the possession of wealth, or other extraneous appendages of character, appear ridiculous and amusing. In this country, where the boast of equality is upon every lip, there are more distinctions in society than any other country in the world; and there are grades of aristocracy, in each of which there is more of exclusiveness manifested than 'She's astoundingly foolish,' said the clerk, shifting || yenaw. his legs importantly. But come, Miss Hetty, will you losophy. dance?' 'With all my heart,' said Miss Hetty,' and they simultaneously sprang to the floor. 5-As Capila, he invented the numerical phi6-As Dattatreya, he communicated science to his disciples in Alaki. 7-He assumed the forms of Deva and of Indra, their chiefs. 8-He was then born of Merudevi, to show the paths of virtue. 9-At We listened to this colloquy with superlative con- Prithu, he milked the vacci-form earth, and produced tempt for the utterers, and having formed an opinion salutary plants for the contemplative Risi. 10-As a of their characters, from the index just given, resolved fish in the river Oxus, he saved the Menu Vaivafwata. to discover that of the young man. We ascertained || 11-As a tortoise, he supported the huge mountain that he was a coach-maker, respectably connected, of Mandura, with which Gods and Titans drained the 12-As Dwanautuai, he rose bearing industrious habits, possessed of a mind far above the milky ocean. ordinary standard, and withal well cultivated. He view- the ambrosia from the ocean. 13—As a lovely nymph, he fascinated the amorous Titans. 14-as a man-lion, ed society as a man of sense ought, and presumed that he destroyed them. 15-As a dwarf, he eluded the equality should or ought to exist within the circle of a social party. Courtesy prompted him to offer his hand potent Beli, 16-As Parasurama, he extirpated twento the haughty coquette, and the refusal wounded his ty-one times the military cast. 17-As Vyasa, he divided the Veda for the instruction of mankind. 18fine feelings. But they were healed by the frank and As Ramachandra, he conquered Lanca. 19 and 20courteous address of the daughter of Judge B., and in He appeared as Rama and Crisua. 21-In the beginamong the nobility and gentry of any kingdom in Eu- truth, a motive more exalted than mere courtesy actuarope. There are distinctions in society which should ted them both. They were betrothed, but the gossips ning of Cali Yuga, he will appear for the confusion of the enemies of the Gods, in the person of Buddha, in always exist, on the perpetuity of which sound morality had not yet heard the secret. While leading the modgreatly depends. They consist in the various phases est Emma to the cotillion ring, he looked with proper the land of Kikata. 22-In the evening twilight of , the mis- the Cali, when sovereigns will be little preferable to exhibited by virtue and vice; and the more vicious a contempt upon the haughty Hester Mrobbers, he will appear in the form of Kalki, member of the compact becomes, broader and more de-guided daughter of a broken merchant. She drew cided should the virtuous draw the line of distinction, line of distinction between herself and the honest mewhich should never be passed except on an errand of chanic, while he also traced a demarcation. Hers was mercy by the latter, to reclaim the former. This is a drawn by an erroneous judgemen', his by correct prin- || distinction of character, depending upon the volition of ciples. The sequel is brief. The mechanic became each, not to any fortuitous circumstances, and consesoon the son-in-law of Judge B., emigrated to Indiana, quently is a legitimate distinction. But to see men and at the last election in that state, was appointed a building their structure of superiority upon the sandy member of the popular branch of its legislature. and uncertain foundation of riches, upon the fame of After seasons of flirtation and coquetry, Hester some distinguished progenitor, or upon the more foolish became the wife of the 'engaging' young and ridiculous idea that one employment is more genteel than another, excites the smile of mingled pity and con- clerk, who, carrying his exclusive principles into his business relations, and endeavoring to ape his wealthy tempt upon the lips of the sensible. Yet we daily meet neighbors, was soon numbered with a list of bankrupts, with those who assume superiority on these grounds, and now gains but a scanty pittance in the metropolis as and it is to this practice, arising from the error of the a third rate clerk. There are distinctions in society, but that judgement, or the absolute want of common sense, we may ascribe nine-tenths of the evil causes with they are too often drawn by ignorance, or erring judgewhich the harmony of society is disturbed. M ment. a MYTHOLOGY. Of all the ancient nations, none have so mysterious a mythology as that of the Hindoos. Many of their mysterious rites were performed in subterranean temples, and the most sublime principles of philosophy brought to aid the wily priests in their deceptions. India has undoubtedly been, at some remote age, the most enlightened part of the globe; nd both Volney and Sir William Jones give it as their opinion, that it was from thence that Egypt acquired her lore. Sir Willim, who made profound researches into Asiatic literature, relates the fact, that in a deep cave, remote from business marts, a kind of printing "These twenty-two, according to Hindoo mythology, are the principal of the innumerable descents of the Supreme Being,' IP TO READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.— The engraving in this number of the Casket, is from the burin of S. G. ARNOLD, Esq., editor of the Brooklyn Advocate, and was executed after only four weeks' practice in this beautiful art. He has kindly contributed this his first production of moment to our columns, for which he has our thanks. "The Sailor and his Bride,' is received, with one or two other communications, which we have not had time to peruse. THE KNOT. MARRIED, On Sunday, July 29th, by Elder Philetus Roberts, Mr. HYMNZLE BROWN, of Dover, to Miss ELIZABETH EMIGH, of Union Vale. At Stanfordville, on the 21st July, by Henry TallYork,to Miss MAHETABLE ELIZA BRIGGS,Of Hyde Park. madge, esq., Mr. STEPHEN B. VAILf the city of New Several years since, we made a journey to a thriving village in a neighboring county, and while tarrying at the house of a friend, saw a practical illustration of the above remarks. A social party had gathered on the occasion of the return of another birth-day of one of our friend's daughters, and it was really a congregation of pretty and cheerful faces. During the evening a cotillion was proposed, and couples immediately formed upon the floor. From a retired corner came a neatly dressed young man, with intelligent countenance and pleasing address, and invited a gay butterfly girl, who seemed disposed to flirt with everybody, to join in the dance. She scarcely deigned a recognition, and coldly refused. The young man hit his lips, while the flush of press, with moveable type, was found, and from certain VLACK, aged 93 years, 11 months and 8 days. offended pride mounted to his cheeks, and passing to the opposite side of the room, found his hand acceptable to a pretty, modest miss, and in a moment more they were moving in the dance, "Who was that young man?' asked a merchant's clerk, addressing the coquette first mentioned. 'He is an impudent puppy,' responded the frail one, curling her pretty lip haughtily; "he is nothing but a mechanic, and I wonder at his presumption in asking me to dance.' ''f'was presumption indeed, and extraordinarily and shockingly imperlite,' responded the clerk, tucking in the ruffles of his dickey, and throwing one leg over the other in an important attitude. 'I wonder that Mr. was not more select in choosing the members of this 'ere party. But so it is; society here is gittin' as bad as Bosting and other induraceous places, where gentlemen are continually perforated with these 'ere infernal mechanics. You done right, miss, awfully right, in scorning to accept sich like company.' 'So says Miss Ann-don't you Ann?' said the indignant coquette, addressing her butterfly companion. Yes, you did, Hetty—and I'll be hanged if I'd dance with one of them are mechanics, ifI never did. But do look! as sure as eggs, the impertir.ent fellow is dancing with Judge B- 's Philipina. I think she ought to be ashamed of herself, for sich a disgrace in open company.' characters, or other indications, he believes it to have They believe that Vishnu has already made twenty 'THE TWENTY-TWO DESCENTS OF VISHNU UPON EARTH. (From the Asiatic Researches.) 1-The first corporeal appearance of the Deity was slumbering on the waters, when from his body sprung up Brahma, in whose members were the germs of future worlds; Brahma was the image of God, endowed with good qualities, and commenced a fervid adoration. 2-He next appeared as the boar which raised up the earth presunk in the waters. 3-In the form of Nareda he scribed what ought to be done and omitted. 4-He performed a long penance in the form of Nara Nara THE KNELL. DIED, In this village on the 22d ult., ELMORE E. LAPHAM, son of widow Rachael Lapham, aged 14 years. At the résidence of Abraham Phillips, in the town of Poughkeepsie, on Friday the 27th ult., JOHN H. VAN In this village, on the 23d July, after a lingering illness of seven months, CHRISTINA, wife of Mr. John Lewis, in the 56th year of her age. Mrs. Lewis was much esteemed for her amiable and benevolent qualities, and is deeply regretted by her numerous relations [Com. and friends. Mr. Edward E.Dibblee,late of the city of New-York, merchant, and formerly of the county of Dutchess, died at Velasco, Texas,on the 6th June, aged 41 years. The deceased was a merchant at that place, and had en deared himself to the people of Texas, and secured their respect by his polite and gentlemanly deportment, but more particularly as he was one of the Americans who raised the sum of $30,000 to'save the lives of fourteen Texian prisoners. During his last sickness he received every attention which kindness and friendship could dictate, and his remains were followed to the [Com. grave by all the citizens of Velasco. In this village on the 7th inst., PHILANDER EMOTT, only child of Herman and Maria Lee Knickerbacker, aged 9 months and 7 days. At Hyde Park,on the 31st ult., Mr. RICHARD TELLER, aged 63 years. In this village, on Wednesday August 1st, JACOB BOERUM, son of Robert and Catharine Styles, aged nearly 2 years. At Fishkill, July 4th, Mrs. MARY ELECTA PLATT daughter of Jeremiah Platt, wife of Philip Vanderbilt. Away from a world of transgression and wo; |