of the art of the magician, had disappeared.
Zano appeared, "Zano," said Master Guillaume,
"put but one partridge to the fire. Louis Morand
will not sup with me.

ployed every argument with which his imagination | hangings. The illusion, which had been the effect could furnish him to induce the magician to yield up his treasures: but the old man was inflexible. The next morning when he awoke, the tower had but five windows, and he could touch the ceiling with his hands. There was no longer any doubt that the prison, by a frightful art, gradually contracted, and would eventually close upon him. He ate and drank, prayed and slept.

On waking next morning, four windows only remained, and the ceiling touched his head. The contraction of the prison walls was now evident. Louis Morand again appeared at a window. The old man threatened him with the vengeance of Heaven. Louis answered only by an insulting laugh, and endeavored to persuade him to relinquish his treasures. Master Guillaume covered his head with his mantle and slept without eating.

The next morning when he attempted to rise, his head struck against the ceiling of the tower. Three windows only remained, and with his extended arms he could touch the two walls of his prison. He ate and drank a little, and passed the day in prayer. In the evening Louis again appeared.

"Alas!" exclaimed the magician, "do not destroy thus cruelly, an old man who has done so much for you?"

"Give me then your treasures," said Louis. The old man silently covered his head and Louis disappeared.

This night Master Guillaume did not sleep. He passed the time in prayer. The prison continued evidently to diminish in size. He was soon compelled to stoop, and then to remain on his knees. Two windows of the tower only remained. then endeavored to force a passage through one of them, but the iron bars resisted every effort. He called for Louis, and Louis Morand appeared.

He

My son," said he, "what have I done that you condemn me to a death so horrible? have pity on my white hairs! have mercy on the friend of your father! do not crush my bones between these walls of iron! Spare my life, or at least give me a death less horrible than this?"

"Surrender then your treasures!" repeated

Louis.

The old man made no answer, but the prison continued gradually to close.

"Mercy! mercy!" cried he.

"Your treasures! your treasures!" repeated Louis.

Master Guillaume placed his back and feet against the two extreme walls of his prison, and endeavored to prevent their further contraction: but, by an invisible force, they continued to close, and his knees were at length bent against his breast. The bones began to break.

"Mercy! mercy!" cried he in a gasping voice. "Your treasures! your treasures!" again repeat

ed Louis.

Lying in Bed.

S. W.

No piece of indolence hurts the health more than the modern custom of lying in bed too long in the morning. This is the general practice in great towns. The inhabitants of cities never rise before eight or nine o'clock, but the morning is undoubtedly the best time to exercise while the stomach is empty, and the body refreshed with sleep. Besides the morning air braces and strengthens the nerves, and in some measure answers the purpose of a cold bath. Let any one who has been accustomed to lie in bed till eight or nine o'clock, rise by six or seven, spend a couple of hours in walking, riding, or any other active diversion without doors, he will find his spirits cheerful and serene through the day his appetite keen, and his body braced and strengthened. Custom soon renders early rising agreeable and nothing contributes more to the preservation of health. The inactive are constantly complaining of pains in the stomach, flatulence, indigestion, etc. These complaints which pave the way to many others, are not to be removed by medicines; they can only be cured by a rigorous course of exercise, to which indeed they seldom fail to yield. It consists with ob. ervation, that all old men have been early risers. This is the only circumstance attending longevity, to which I never knew an exception.

While we are reasoning concerning life, life is gone, and death though perhaps they receive him indifferently, yet he treats alike the fool and the philosopher.

ORIGINAL.

The Resuscitated Spider.

BY MRS. L. H. SIGOURNEY.

Sent with the present of a spider and flies, formed of glass, to a Preceptor, who in lecturing his class on the habits of insects, kept a spider in captivity, which disappeared and was supposed to have died.

You thought I was dead, but it is not so,
One can roll in a ball, without dying, you know,
And the wisest may err, as you doubtless will see
While in grand terms of science you lectured your
Has now been the case in your memoirs of me.
class,

Believing me safe in my prison of glass,
From thistle to thistle, all sparkling with dew;
I was throwing my tissues of silvery hue
But alas! while exultingly plying my art,
AI found with surprise a strong snare round my
heart,
Which even in my durance, your goodness had wove,
A goodness constraining even spiders to love,
So again to your halls I was willing to turn,
And with flies ready kill'd, as you plainly discern,
I have come with a faith, which no changes can
That I need have nothing to do but to learn,

Then Master Guillaume rang a golden bell. dense vapor spread itself before the eyes of Louis: with the vapor the prison vanished. Louis saw the magician seated opposite to him in his velvet covered chair, which he had not quitted. He found himself precisely in the same situation in which he was when the magician said to him, "It shall be as you desire." The bell yet vibrated again on the purple To be nail'd by the ear to your door-post forever.

sever,

69

ORIGINAL.

The Essayist.--No. I.

"An elegant sufficiency, content,
Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books,
Ease and alternate labor, useful life,
Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven!
These are the matchless joys of virtuous love;
And thus their moments fly."

True Affection.

(Addressed to a Young Lady.)

society, my dear E-, and in assimilating my own character to your gentle and susceptible nature. And since the blossoms which have appeared in this, our spring time of life, have never been darksome, how joyous are my anticipations, that from our intercourse, an abundant harvest of golden fruits is to enrich and sweeten our existence. But if our intimacy shall be destined soon to terminate, may we not be consoled with the beautiful sentiment of Campbell ?—

"Weep not, weep not, at nature's transient pain, Congenial spirits part to meet again!"

E. M. V. D.

THE elder D'Israeli, in one of his romances, A Daughter's Love. says "Among some curious experiments Clarissa had tried on flowers, she grafted roses on an oak. SOMETIMES, I was conscious of gathering rough'Let us observe,' cried the amiable florist, the ness from the continual conflict with passions and union of the beautiful and the tender, with the se- prejudice, and that the fine edge of the feelings vere and the great. Will not the roses charmingly could not ever be utterly proof against the corroadorn the rough and sinuous character of the oak? sions of such an atmosphere. Then I sought my and its bitter gall and stalkless berries will in the name, and called my bird of song, and listened to spring be embellished by the brilliant family it her high, heaven-toned voice. The melody of that. adopts, and the roses will blush in the dark um- music fell upon my soul, like oil upon the troubled brage of its austere boughs.' The spring returned-billows,-and all was tranquil. I wondered where the buds appeared on the stems, and the roses my perturbations had fled, but still more that I had opened—but what was the disappointment of Cla- ever indulged them. Sometimes the turmoil and rissa, when she viewed them all of one sepulchral fluctuation of the world, threw a shade of dejection hue! Every rose was black! The melancholy scion over, then it was her pride to smooth my brow, told the lovely moralist of the violation of Nature." and to restore its smile. Once a sorrow of no comHow forcible is the language of metaphor! mon order had fallen upon me; it rankled in my Scarce an idea arises in the mind-scarce a maxim breast like a dagger's point; I came to my house, can be found in the code of ethics,-or a principle but I shunned all its inmates. I threw myself down in the moral government of mankind, which can- in solitude, that I might wrestle alone with my fate, not be strikingly represented by some natural por- and subdue it; a light footstep approached, but I traiture. As is the growth of the plant in an un- heeded it not. A form of beauty was on a sofa by naturalized soil, and the union of the tenderest my side, but I regarded it not. Then my hand was shrub of the garden with the lordly tree of the softly clasped, breathed upon, pressed to ruby lips. mountain, so is the growth of the affections and It was enough; I took my daughter in my arms, moral feelings, when within the influence of the and my sorrow vanished. Had she essayed the depraved and corrupt; and the union of two dis- hackney'd expressions of sympathy, or even the positions whose tendencies are directly contra- usual epithets of endearment, I might have desired dictory. The former flourishes and matures, de- her to leave my presence. Had she uttered only a formed and uncourtly, and then sickens and fades single word, it would have been too much, so But the deed, away; the latter comes forth vigorous and fresh, wounded was my spirit within me. but has scarce felt the breath of Heaven before the very poetry of tenderness, breathing, not speakthe strength and natural ruggedness of the one ing, melted "the winter of my discontent." Evor prove too severe for the effeminacy and tenderness was she endued with that most exquisite of woof the other, and its beauty and softness are des- man's perfections, a knowledge both when to be troyed and seen no more. silent, and when to speak,-that the frost might dissolve from around the heart she loved, and its discords be turned to harmony.

This sentiment, my dear friend, seems to speak to us all. All, who are forming friendships and intimacies-who are directing their affections and It tells feelings, and forming habits and manners. us to seek the society of those, whose characters are such as will improve our own-whose principles and morality are such as will elevate and ennoble us. It tells us there is no connexion or attraction between the lively and severe-the rude and the refined-that we should cultivate the friendship of those whose feelings and thoughts are congenial to our own-that we should be able to find a voice in our own breasts, which will respond to the gladsome exclamations of our familiars, and a heart that can feel their joys and sorrows. And how soothing are my reflections, that I have hitherto observed this counsel in the formation of my attachments, and more especially in seeking your

Advice to the Ladies.

If you would be truly valuable, estimate not yourselves chiefly according to your money and your lands, but on the graces of your persons and minds. Read a little more; read divinity, morality, history, innocent poetry, and the stories of prudent, generous love.

Mankind may be divided into the merry and the serious, who both make a very good figure in the species, while they keep their respective humors from degenerating into the neighboring extreme; there being a tendency in the one to melancholy moroseness, and in the other to fantastic levity.

But, look what threatens from behind?—

The rage-fraught waves swell high and proud!
It 'gins to grow a squally wind,

With many a little ragged cloud,
Fleeting before the mutiled storm!
Wrapped in a hundred clouds, with frown
As dark as Death's, and giant form,
Threatening to rush in thunders down,
In lightnings, and in deluge.-Now
It comes !-It blows a hurricane;
Great is the roar above, below;

The flashes thick, as the big rain,
That beats and batters the huge wave,
Rolling in wrath along!-What now
The Smuggler's little skiff can save ?
If Heaven ordains, I think I know.
Her mainsail and her jib are down;

Under the foresail, reefed, she flies!
Through the black fiery storm, whose frown

Of death the Smuggler still defies!
With dauntless arm the helm he rules,
Erect his form and bold his mien;
And, as it scowls at him, he scowls
And looks it in the face again!
All night it rages on!—but now,

As night declines it dies away;
And leaves the blessed East to show
The rosy lids of waking Day,
That opens its glittering eye!-And O
How radiently it shines!-It shines
Upon the Smuggler's cliff!-'Tis so;

Yet, how 'tis so, he scarce divines!
But, look!-Who stands upon the beach,
And waves a welcome with her hand?
What little cherub strives to reach

Its father, from the nearing land?
O, treasures dear! What dome of state,
The haunt of luxury and show,
Contains so blithe a joy as that,
The Smuggler's hut will shelter now?
O, how he glows again!—to tell

What perils he has passed—what store
Of merchandize he has !-how well

The skiff her share of duty bore!
Now tell me not-but in my mind,
Whate'er the smooth and softest tongue
Of luxury may sing, you'll find

Your sweetest joys from pain have sprung!

Love's Truth.

THOU hast heard the idle scandal
Of a cold, malicious world;
Thou hast drunk its poison'd fountain,
Where the secret snakes lie curl'd.
They have told thee I am false,

O, believe me, 'tis not true;

They accuse me of sweet smiles,
When I only thought of you.
Though my smiles were often gleaming,
With the joyous dance or song,
Soon my silent soul was dreaming
Of my love the whole night long.
And though many saw me smile,
Yet they never saw my tears,
Which in secret I have poured-
They would melt away thy fears.

Flirtation.

I dislike the man who deliberately trifles with the affections of women. I would rather shake hands with a highwayman, than with a gentleman who has sacrificed to his own vanity, the life-long happiness of an inexperienced girl. I fear this sort of conduct has never been sufficiently reprobated, and females too often betray the rights of their sex, by accepting with pride, the homage of a man who has become notorious for the conquest and destruction of their sisters, as if his mercy and love could be depended upon, who had once been cruel to an affectionate woman! The world laughs, and stores of living proverbs and stupid jests, on the briefness of woman's love, are administered; but you will find, if your heart be not hardened by selfishnes, that this will be in vain. Perhaps you had no intention of being seriousyou only flirted, tried to be agreeable, and to please for the moment; you had no conception that your behavior could be misconstrued, but what, if while you were meaning nothing, your trifling created anguish-your sport became death to the object of it? When, by exclusive attentions, you have excited a regard, by the development of talent, or by the display and devotion of personal graces, you have fascinated the mind and the heart, when, by the melting and the sinking eye, the faltering voice, the fervid tone, the retained hand, you have awakened the passion you cannot allay-when you have done this in the cold blood of vanity, and it suits your convenience, or sated coxcombry, to finish the scene by an altered mien, a distant courtesy, or an expression of surprise at the unexpected efforts of your civility, will you be able to quiet your conscience with a jest? Will you sleep on an adage of fools, or a lie of your own? What, if the poor being, whose hope you have changed into despair, whose garden you have blasted with mildew and dust, whose heaven you have darkened forever, shall suffer in silence, striving to bear her sorrow, praying for cheerfulness, pardoning without forgetting you, till the worm has eaten through the life, and the body is emaciated which you have led to the dance, the voice is broken on which you have hung, the face wan which you have flattered, and the eyes frightfully bright with a funeral lustre, which used to laugh radiancy, and hope, and love, when they gazed upon you? What, if a prouder temper, a more ardent imagination, and a stronger constitution, should lead to spite and impatience, and recklessness of good and ill, if a hasty and loveless marriage should be the rack of her soul, or the provocation of her sin! Is there mandragora which could drug you to sleep while this was on your memory, or does there really live a man who could triumph in such bitter woe?

O, believe it not! For the sake of our household gods, call it and cause it to be a lie! Be ye sure that coquettes are the refuse of their sex, and were only ordained to correspond with the coxcombs of the other.

P. B.

Learning, once made popular, is no longer learning; it has the appearance of something which we have bestowed upon ourselves, as the dew appe to rise from the fields it refreshes.

THE FAITHLESS FAIR.

A SKETCH OF REAL LIFE.

HENRY-joined a company of volunteers during garb of a poor soldier. He tapped at the door of the memorable revolutionary struggles between her mother; he was admitted by a servant and conGreat Britain and the American colonies. His ducted into the parlor. Other officers had been youthful bosom glowed with that patriotic fire there to pay their respects; the brilliant dress of which seemed to animate the whole continent. At many a youthful warrior had passed before her the period we speak of, it became not a man to eyes, and with a beating heart she obeyed the sumhold back-his liberty depended on the ineditated mons. A tinge of red passed over her face, as he blow, aimed at the greatest power in Europe,-imprinted a fond kiss on her cheek-that kiss, the giant of war through ages of blood. But what when given in the fulness of a fond heart, was not ever obstacle existed, they became pigmies when returned with that fervor his glowing fancy had compared with the objects set forth in that declara-pictured-it was cold, formal and trembling. tion which inspired every patriotic heart to resolve on liberty or death.

Henry rushed into battle, heedless of dangers, and reckless of the consequences. It was at the *battle of Trenton, which, more than any other single battle during the war, decided its fate, that Henry rushing into the hottest of the conflict, gained the enemy's standard, and bore it off in triumph. For this act of youthful bravery, Henry was promoted to the rank of captain, and gained the highest esteem of his superior officers. We shall not now follow our hero through the many and various campaigns; suffice it to say, that acts of heroism succeeded, until at the termination of the war, we find him returned among the list of cotemporary heroes, as major.

"And you have returned?" escaped her lips, rather as a question than an exclamation.

"Yes, Helen, I have returned, the same in heart, the same fond lover as ever. But you see my garb denotes the sufferings I have endured-the misery, privation and toil-but what of this? we have gained our liberty, and planted on our shore the banner of virtue, liberty and independence. And thy sweet, dear image was ever present to my sight-it cheered me in battle, and I could press my cold blanket with ecstatic joy, knowing that one fond heart was beating for me, and that heart was yours. "Henry, you-you-must not be astonished to find a change in me. My parents-" "Change in thee-in thee, Helen! Good heavens! what do you mean? speak!"

have insisted on our separation, and decreed it we must part."

Gracious heavens! Helen, is this their former

kindness, their former love! But I forgive them— their motives are to me obvious; but you, Helen; this transaction is beyond my belief—is this your love?"

"Daughter Helen," was now repeated by the mother without, “Captain Ellis is below."

Captain Ellis," muttered Henry, "he my rival ?"

ed in, followed by Helen's mother-Ellis was in But before she could answer, Captain Ellis rushfull uniform, and the contrast between it and the his advantage. He was received with smiles and humble garb of Henry, was certainly not much to tain Ellis, permit me to introduce my friend, Henry marked attention. Helen introduced him-" Cap

Previous to Henry's joining the army, he was betrothed to a young lady of great personal beauty and considerable property. She parted from him with many protestations of love and affection, and her tears fell on the cheek of her lover, to seal the words, "I am thine." Day after day succeeded his departure, and she anxiously awaited the return of the post; it came, her lover's letter was filled with protestations of love and constancy. While the papers teemed with the heroic actions of the brave, and the promotion of his youthful companions, there was no mention made of Henry. They all spoke of Major Drayton-the young, the noble and the brave; and the sigh of disappointment often escaped the bosom of Helen, and a wish that it was her Henry. Helen was proud; the pressing events of a war, had created in her an ambitious fire; smothered the love of Henry, and kindled another, flaming with every opposite quality. But to return to Henry-Returning with his youthful bosom What, Major Drayton! our major in this garb! elated with hope and joy, and convinced one faith-by my faith you become it well. Doff your beaver, ful heart would sympathize with him, in recount- Major; your hard earnings ill become these huming his many sufferings and privations during a Ladies, permit me to introduce, long, tedious and bloody campaign, he determined in his true character, the gallant Francis Drayton. to surprise his love by stratagem. Others I presume fame has already done that honor; you condemn an act of this kind, as one unworthy a now see him in proper person, though I acknowlman-a lover; but whatever Henry's motives were edge, not in a proper garb." he hid them entirely from others. Under another name he entered the army-under the assumed title he gained honor, fame and renown. Aware, with such to recommend him, there could be no doubt of a happy and joyous welcome, he therefore determined to surprise Helen in another guise in the

it

may

W. to-'

ble habiliments.

"Captain Ellis," exclaimed Drayton, "whatever your opinions may be respecting this disguise, I presume its colors are no disgrace; 'tis the plain garb of a continental soldier, and honors the wearer more at this proud epoch of our country's glory, than the diadem on the brow of the monarch."