Newspaper Page Text
IMMiUMMlIIHllIB
Lru fantasies. I loved devotedly, and thought
n^> my passion wa3 truly returned. “ May I
jirh speak my mind freely to you 1” saidi candid
To put an end to my engagement, 1 sud- friend. \ “ Certainly,” said I.
3P*
ty girl of sixteen, and promised to n
her ; but time and reflection altered
My goddess became ah insipid girl*
views.
The lady
said he. “ Yon are
to be understood that I should be absent | mistaken,” said 1. “It is not yoii, but
denly embarked for Europe, giving it forth does not'love you,
several years. My reputation would have your friend Plum, llikt she is enamored with;
FROM THE TOKEN.
FOR. A LADY’S. M-BUM.
Grace is deceitful, and beauty vain.—Solomon.
Oh, say not, wisest of all the kings,
. That hateTisen on Israel’s throne to reign !
Say not, as one of yotfr wisest things,
That Grace is False, and Beauty vain.
Your harem beauties resign ! resign
Their lascivious dance, their voluptuous song !
To votir garden coine forth, among tilings divine,
And own you do grace and beauty wrong.
Is beauty vain because it will fade!
Then are earth’? green robe and heaven’s light vain;
' lost in the evening’s shade,
: in winter’s sleety ram.
green mantle, pranked with Sowers,
:h where life with joy reposes ;
gives down, with its light and showers,
le them, fruits; to deck them, roses.
ening flowers in such beauty spread,
rving fruits so gracefully swing,
r king, as you just now said,
ty or grace is a worthless thing,
jsiknb?, as they bend in the breeze,
led face of the pool to kiss ;
tthat has eyes and a heart, but sees
4t —-^’ia beauty and grace in this.
. eso boughs all whisper of Him,
PUrtpji light |h: i green arrays them ;
-1« wsi vo they skim,
And whoBe.breuth isth..
them f
‘gent io wind that sways
And are not the beauty add grace of youth,
Like those of this willow, the work of love?
Do they not come, like tlic voice of truth,
That is heard afi a round ,us here from above?
Then say not, wisest of all the kings
That have risen 6n Israel’s throne to reign!
cay not, as one of vour wisest tilings,
That Grace is fu'i ;e. and Beauty vain.
• (
suffered for this and some other trifles had
not my friend Plum exerted his influence in
my behalf, which he did so effectually, that
1 was fully acquitted, and the young lady
was -left to unpitied mortification and con-
tempt. „
1 could not think of travelling alone, so I
managed to have my guardian accompany
me. On my arrival at Liverpool, my igno
rance of the manners and customs of Eng
land brought me into sundry awkward situa
tions. In these cases 1 found the assistance
of Plum to be invaluable. He settled eve
ry difficulty in a moment, and always in a
way peculiar to himself. He seemed to un
derstand England perfectly, and I afterwards
learned that he was not a stranger to other
countries. I soon hurried to London. I
was anxious to participate in the pleasures
of the world’s metropolis. The influence
of Plum soon gained me influence in fash
ionable society. It was winter, and I was
invited to an assembly at Aimack’s. My
acquaintance enlarged, and I \vas<soon in
the fuli career of fashionable dissipation.
My society was sought by gentlemen and
ladies of the first, degree. Not a few cards
with noble names among them were exhibi
ted in my rack.
I was at a loss to account for my success.
My vanity could not persuade me to impute
it all to my person and address. I became
inquisitive, and learned at length, to my
great surprise, that it was mainly on account
of my guardian, who was held in such estima
tion, that all who were connected with him
participated in his honours. At first I was
piqued by the discovery, but such is the in
fluence of self-flattery, and such also was
it is only to secure his society, that she
seems to favor you.” “ She js not capable
of such double dealing,” said I. “ It is the
fashion of the world,” said he. “ Plum is. a
great favorite of the sex, and they will smite
on the first man that brings th$m closest to
him. You are his particular friend, and are
therefore an object of regard tp all the cal
culating mothers and daughters in totfn.
I felt too secure to be angry, i laughed at
my friend, and turned his advice to ridicule.
But let me proceed in my stpiy. A med
dling attorney endeavoured to bring about a
separation between me arid Plum. He was
at first unsuccessful, but by irick and arti
fice he at length gained his point. Plum
deserted me forever. I mourned over him,
“ but mourning,” said. I, “ is vain.” I am
myself the same thing as before. I .have
lost a friend, but that is no part of myself. I
flew to my mistress. “ She will sympathise
with me,” thought I, “ and oh, there would
be a sweetness in seeing her tears fall for
my sake, that would atone for my loss.” But
l was mistaken:'she' refused to see me. I was
enraged, I stamped on the floor. The ser
vant laughed, and pointed to the door. I
went away and wept in the bitterness of my
heart, like a very boy. . I went to see some
of my companions. They were cold and
restrained. I visited some of the families ing to
where I was once a favorite. They were
civil, but the hearty welcome of the mother,
and the gracious attentions of the daughters
were mine no more.
I shrunk from society like a wounded
beast of prey, who alone endures his throb
bing pain. I cursed the heartless world,
and bitterly moralized over the selfishness
rapid ha^ been its increase since, that it go
ranks, beyond all comparison, the first an
greatest library in the world, consisting of
the following prodigious number of volumes:
Five thousand volumes of engravings ;
Seventy-two thousand volumes of manu
scripts ; and
Eight hundred thousand volumes of print
ed books.
Besides the richest collection of Medals
and, Antiquities in existence.
It has been justly observed, that on look
ing through this great depot of literature,
one cannot help feeling astonished at the
fertility of the human mind, which has been
able to produce such a multitude of ideas as
are cobtained in the piles of ponderous
volu&tes which the eye surveys, without be
ing able to reach to the end.
The saloons are in succession, and open
wide into each other. In the centre of one
of these saloons is a miniature of the classic
mount “ Parnassus,” beautifully executed
by, the artist Fiton. It represents a round
rugged mountain, shaded with the emble
matic myrtle and laurel trees. On this
mountain are numerous small figures in
bronze, of the most celebrated poets and
eminent learned men who have adorned
France, placed at various heights, accord
ing to the estimated literary rank of the in
dividual whom each figure is meant to re
present. At another end of the building is
seen a representation of the sandy deserts
of Africa—the Pyramids—groves of palm
trees—and caravans of travellers—all exe
cuted in the most exact proportion, aecorJ-
a scale which is given. Adjoining
bat he is also provided with skilful guide*.
has alone the advantage of the ablest
learned living, and of the illustrious learned
dead. The Catholic religion has been ac
cused of being hostile to education; this
calumny flashes fresh and forcibly on the
mind when one visits France, and recoll ects
that France is a Cathotic country—that her
Kings have been ever Catholic, and the re
ligion of the State is Catholic.*—’Wattyfold
Chronicle.
this is a saloon dedicated to works on geo
graphy and astronomy. Here are to be
seen the two largest globes in the world—
celestial and terrestrial. Their size is so
great, that, in order to place them, it was
Long Sermons.—There are very few per
sons of good sense, who arc not aware that
short Sermons generally produce more ef
fect than long ones; and, yet, a great nuro
per of our Clergymen retain a remnant of the
verhosencss of our forefathers. Even with
in the age of many now living, if was an
established rule with many Ministers, to
preach on ordinary occasions one hour. Wo
do not recollect to have been told how long
they prayed; but probably a halt an hour
was considered moderate for the prayer be
fore sermon.
It is difficult to account for the great
change which has taken place in most
churches as to the length of these services.
But whatever the cause may bo, it uow
seems quite certoin, that even the teachable
and devout are most edified by Sermons not
exceeding twenty-five minutes, and Prayesr
which are simple, solemn, limited to few
words, and destitute of vain repetitions. It
is useless to keep an audience standing half
or three-quarters of an hour, when the atten*
tion of most of them is lost at the end often
minutes. If the fault be in the hearers,
Ministers should show it to be so; arid e.v*
plain to them the propriety of services which
are so generally esteemed too long. By
praying half an hour a Minister will do no
thing towards convincing his hearers that
necessary to cut two large circular openings i his Prayer is of reasonable length. It is
in the upper floor; the frame work rests on i better to shorten the Prayers, or show their
Shook! pome strain we us’d to love
In days«ti)o\ ’iood meet onr car.”—
■It is quitc'cQL)re-on to see the ditties which were
first learned fin the nursvry, metamorphosed in a
whimsical n*inner, to suit some political sally or
notion of drojery, and from associations most ge
nerally connected with early years, they are com*
monlj successful and applauded.—The folio .ving
little piece, treated in a different manner from the
customary inetliod^howing it has fallen into amas-
r’s will yield to none for pleasing effect.]
From BlackiccoiPs Magazine.
TO THE LADY BIRD,
d! Lady Bird! fly away home”—
part of creation. I am still writhing with
disappointment, and under its influence
address this letter, partly to give vent to my
gushing feelings, and partly to obtain the
sympathy of those yho have sympathy to
bestow on the forlorn. RIDDLE.
P. S. I warn all the world against pla
cing confidence in the hollow-hearted trea
cherous fellow whom I once called my friend.
His name in this narrative is Plum, but he
is better known by the title, Cash.
JTiuJlield mouse has gone to her nest, ^
Te daisies have shut up their sleepy red eyes, JL
And the bees and the birds arc at rest.
Lady Bird! Lady Bird • fly away home—
The glow worm is lighting her lamp
The dew’s falling fast, and your fine speckled wings
Will flag with the dose clinging damp.
Lady Bird! Lady Bird! fly away home—
Good luck if you reach it at last;
The owl’s come abroad, and the bat’s on the roam,
Sharp set from their Ramazan fast.
Lady Bird! Lady Bird! fly away home—
v The fairy bells tinkle afar,
Make haste, or they’ll catch ye, and harness ye fast,
With a cobweb, to Oberon’s car.
Lady Bird! Lady Bird! fly away home—
But, as all serious people do, first
Clear your conscience, and settle your worldly affairs,
And so be prepared for the worst.
Lady Bird ! Lady Bird! make a short shift—
Here’s a hair-shirted palmer hard by;
And here’s lawyer ear-wig to draw up your will,
And we’ll witness it, death-moth and I.
Lady Bird! Lady Bird ! don’t make a fuss—
You’ve mighty small matters to give;
Your coral and jet, and—there, there—you can tack
A codicil on, if you live.
Lady Bird! Lady Bird! fly awoy now
To your house in the old willow tree,
Where your children, so dear, have invited the ant,
And a few cozy ncighbou. a to tea.
Lady Bird! Lady Bird! fly away home,
And if not gobbled up by the way,
Nor yoked by the fairies to Oberon’s car,
You’re in luck—and that’s all I’ve to say.
{From “The Token,” a work about to be published
in Boston.]
TO THE SENTIMENTAL.
“ What is friendship but a name.”
I tell not my tale to a cold and careless
world. 1 waste not sighs upon ears that
are deaf. A story of misfortune is a pearl
too precious to be cast before those who
would only trample upon it. It is for the
tender and sympathetic ear of those whom
experience has taught to contrast the bliss
of friendship indulged without suspicion or
alloy, with the bitterness of disappointed
trust and betrayed affection.
I had the misfortune to lose both my pa
tents at an early age. My mother died when
I was a boy, and my father followed her
toon after 1 entered my twenty-fiist year. I
was an only child, and without relatives;
hut my father committed me to the care of a
friend by the name of Plum, of whom he had
a high opinion, and to whom he was strong
ly attached. 'Whether my father’s choice of
a guardian for one whose imagination was
stronger than his judgment, and whose pas
sions were more active than his principles,
was wise or not, istn question which 1 have
to decide, by the issue of my story.
The stern agd strict control of my father
was no soon! fr withdrawn, than I felt like a
liberated bird. I indulged my fancy in eve
ry thing. I boughtrfgav horses, drove dash
ing gigs, smoked, drank, flourished at Na-
* Saratoga, ppt a gold Cham about
. vritfra useless quizzing glass at-
t into my pocket, cri
es, talked lightly of
ly ogled e very
the adroit manner and seeming sincerity of 0 f those 1 thought the fairest and noblest
the attentions I received, that I ceased to
scrutinize the motive, and took them as if of
fered to me on the ground of personal merit.
But if 1 was blind in regard to the honour
which was reflected on myself, some remark
able instances of its influence on others, did
not escape me. I recollect on one occa
sion to have been struck with it at Almack’s.
In general the display of beauty there is be
yond all praise. An American would say
the ladies were too stout and ruddy, and too
heavily dressed. But let that pass. The
music had ceased for a moment, and the
places where the quadrilles had a moment
before been figuring were accidentally va
cant* There then appeared a couple so
grotesque as to put description to the blush.
A thin, miserly, snuffy little man led for
ward the hugest woman I ever beheld. She
had large, lead coloured eyes, a low, over
hanging forehead, a conical piece of her un
derlip lapping over the upper one, the cor
ners of the mouth drawn downward, long
ears standing apart from the head, a iarge
jowl, and a figure, that, in despite of the
London Cantcllos, resembled
brandy. There was a .mark of monstrous
vulgarity about the pair that, with now and
then an exception, seemed to contrast
strangely with all around them.
At the first a*ppearance of this strange
couple, there was a look of general surprise,
and then a smile, and here and there an au
dible titter. But soon it was'all hushed,
and Mr. and Mrs. Fudge seemed to be ho
noured with particular and respectful atten
the ground floor, and the globes are situated reasonableness in a Sermon.
tion. “ How is this ?” said I to Lady Flam
beau. V Oh,” said she, “ don’t you know
he is a great favourite with your friend
Plum.”
In short, I bad not spent six months in
England before I discovered that my extra
ordinary guardian had scarcely less influ
ence than the prime minister. Indeed, he
did that which the king himself could not
have performed. The world would laugh
at Sir William Curtis, though George the
Fourth was his companion and friend.
But who could despise a favourite of Plum ?
His friendship was only inferior to a patent
of nobility. It covered faults and magnified
virtues. It even became superior to the
force of nature. I once saw a very ugly
young woman dancing most vilely. “ She
is an angel,” said one. “ She dances like
a fairy,” said another. “ She is the particu
lar friend of Plum,” said a third.
I left England and went to France. In
Paris, my guardian seemed less at home
National Library of France.—The lec
tures of learned men, and the instructions
of the most eminent professors, would be
comparatively ineffectual for the purpose of
the public, national, and gratuitous educa
tion, if the books and works necessary to
the study and thorough understanding of
the subjects upon which the lectures are de
livered were not also provided. But this
want is not felt in France; the Government,
munificent in all that appertains to education,
have also provided for this want. The
a pipe of I fi nest library, at the present day, in the
world, is the Royal Library in Paris (Bib-
liotheque du Roi.) The building is of im
mense extent—an oblong square, with
court-yard in the centre. It consists of two
floors, divided into suites of spacious apart
ments, in which the books' are classified ac
cording to the different branches of Litera
ture or science to \vhi6h they belong. The
principal divisions are—1st, the Printed
Books; 2d, the Manuscripts; 3d, Engra
vings ; 4th, the Medals and Antiques of dif
ferent. ages, and from all nations. In this
library are to be found the best works that
have ever appeared, upon every possible
subject, and in every known language, liv
ing and dead, ancient and modern. It has
been the work of ages—<jne upon which the
French Nation justly prices itself, and upon
which the Kings of France for generations,
have spared no expence in procuring the
richest and most valuable collections from
every part of the world. The history of its
origin, progress, and rise to its present
enormous magnitude, is particularly interest
ing, and should serve as an encouragement
to those who may be engaged ih originating
a similar institution, even upon ever so small
or so limited a scale/ It was commenced
under the reign of King John of France,
and during his life, did not exceed ten
volumes—six volumes onprofane literature,
and four on religion. His son, Charles V.
increased it to upwards of nine hundred
But here he was by no means destitute of I volumes, whieh,at that me (when printing
influence. He could persuade a French
man to do any thing but jump into the Seine.
I set out for Italy. In crossing the Alps
I was attacked by banditti. 1 fought va
liently, but in vain. I was wounded, over
powered* and beat down. A swarthy villian
with black mustachois planted his heavy
foot on my breast, and with his brawny arm
held his finger on the trigger of a pistol pre-
was not yet known, mti books, of course,
very scarce,) wa4 considered a most exten
sive library. After the death of Charles Y.;
about the year 1430, the books were taken
away, and dispersed through different coun
tries ; the greatest part of them were bought
by the then Dpke of Bedford, and brought
to England, Lpuis XI., however, collected
as many of 1pe books as he could* and
seated to my forehead.' The slightest con-1 brought them back again to Baris. About
traction of a muscle had scattered my brain this period thelart of printing was discover-
in the air. At this instant luckily Plum pre-1 ed, which enabled the King of France to
sented himself.' ' He went on the principle increase rapitjly this favourite national in-
that discretion Js the better part of valour, stitution. A decree was then published,
He threw away my powder and ball, and obliging every bookseller who should pub-
settled the point of negotiation. It was all hsh any work, in any part of the kingdom of
over ill fifteen minutes. The desperado France, to send a copy of it on vellum, to
t ^ A? .J ’ ~ I Kn r^onnciiorl in tl.a 14 HavoI T ibrorv W
became
the mountain', Arid at parting gave me
wishes of huppiness.H
ded us faithfully over | be deposited in the
warm Charles VIIL
I transferred to
these
abet-
g indeed, and when an honest man
I could tell other tales, bul
I returned to my country
of two years, bringing my friew
His influence was not abated,
sought my society, and the ladies
on me for bis sake. 1 took it all
isenous
Royal Library,
uest of Naples,
'aris the library of that city,
added the library of Petra rfcbt
procured many valuable Greek
in the centre, half in the upper, and half in
the lower rooms—so that, by merely turn
ing them, they can be seen from either;
they are both the same size, measuring
(each) twelve feet in diameter, and about
thirty-five feet in circumference.
In the Cabinet of Antiquities are shewn -
the finest collection in existence, of gold,
silver, and bronze medals, of all ages and
nations ; a large silver shield, supposed to
be that used by Scipio ; the brazen chair of
King Dagobert; the armour of Francis I.;
a beautiful vase, in the shape of a chalice,
made of ivory, formed out of the single
tooth of an elephant; various and valuable
specimens of Egyptian antiquities; several
Egyptian mummies, and an Egyptian bird,
called the Ibis, with its plumage ires!, and
in the highest state of preservation, sup
posed to be upwards of 3000 years old.
The manuscripts occupy five saloons.
Thirty thousand volumes of the manuscripts
are connected with the history of France ;
the remaining 42,000 'volumes consist of
foreign languages, ancient literature, and
the correspondence of eminent individuals;
amongst them are some letters from Henry
YIII., King of England, in his own hand
writing (and a very bad hand he wrote;) let
ters from Henry IV., of France; the manu
scripts of Telemachus in the hand-writing
of Fenelon ; an ancient manuscript of Ho
mer ; and Petrarch’s manuscript ofTirgi!.
In fact, any description of this splendid
institution can give but a very imperfect
idea. It would take a week to see it as it
ought to be seen; and any person whose
taste lies that way, will see it with increased
pleasure every time.
This magnificent library is one to the
world gratuitously; tables are laid in each
saloon for the accommodatinn of those who
want to read ; and if you should wish to
take notes or extracts, to any extent, you
are supplied gratuitously, also, with pens,
ink, &c.—a grant of money being made
annually by the Government for this pur
pose. In each saloon are servants in the
King’s livery, regularly stationed, and ready
to hand you in a moment any work in the
entire building you may wish to call for. To
the public in general, or to those who go
merely to look and lounge through the sa-
| loons it isjopen only on Mondays, Wednes
days, and Fridaybut to those who wish to
read, and to foreigners, it is open every day
(Sunday excepted^) and crowded with per
sons of every rank and class in life, from the
highest to the lowest, following and culti
vating the peculiar bent of their genius—
many of them, perhaps, destined to enrich,
by their future productions, they very foun
tain from which they are now so freely and
so abundantly permitted to draw. From
want of facilities and advantages like this,
how many strong and brilliant geniuses have
remained hidden forever and unknown?
How applicable are those allegorical and oft-
quoted lines of the poet—
° Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean hear;
Full many a flower is borne to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.”
This is not, however, the only library
open gratuitously in Paris; there are several
others, of which the principal are—“The
Royal Library of the Arsenal,” containing
about a hundred and eighty thousand
volumes, rich in historians and poeth, chiefly
Italian; “The Library of the Pantheon of
St. Genevieve,” one hundred and twenty
thousand volumes; “The Mazann Libra
ry,” one hundred thousand volumes $ ‘Iff he
On this subject we need say but little ; but
it seems to merit very serious attention from
every Minister- The common sentiment
undoubtedly is, that both Sermons and pray
ers—especially the latter—arc much too
long. If the error be in the people, should
not the Ministers endeavor to correct it?
If it be in the Ministers, they can easily
avoid it.—Christian Neighbour.
The Dead Revived.—During my stay
at St. Petersburg,” says Mr. Holman, “ the
following singular story was spoken of as
having occurred at this place : Two gentle
men had contracted a bitter and irreconci-
leahle enmity against each other. A servant
of one happening to die, was buried within
24 hours, after the Russian custom, when
the other determined to gratify his revenge
upon his adversary by accusing him of the
murder of this man. To give a colour to
this accusation, accompanied by some of
his confidential servants, he proceeded to
disinter the corpse, with a view of inflicting
marks of violence upon it. The body was
removed from the coffin, anil held erect, that
it might undergo a severe flogging; when,
to the astonishment and* dismay of the party,
after a few blows had jneen tnflmfed, anima
tion returned, and the affrighted resurrection
men ran off with the utmost precipitation.
The corpse at length recovering its anima
tion, was able to move off in its shroud, and
regain its master’s habitation, which it en
tered, to the great terror of its inhabitants.
At length however, his reality becoming
certain, they were re-assured, and the sup
posed ghost communicated ali that he could
remember of the state he had been in ;
which was that his senses had not left him,
notwithstanding he had felt so cold and tor
pid as to be incapable of speech or motion,
till the blows had restored him. This led
to the detection of the diabolical plan
against his master’s life and character.”
that I wi
for doing so, 1
ild his,
ib
ess in
roe to such
m
at any ex
ripts, of si
ed volumes.
Cardinal j Library of the City of Paris.”
Vigo ur of Age.—There is in Paris a fe
male, named Elizabeth Thomas Cordieux,
a native of Savoy, who was l»orn on the 6th
of December, 1714 ; and who is, in jail pro
bability, the French say, the doyenne (the
senior) of the human race. Her' face is not
more wrinkled than that of a female half her'
age, her sight is good, Her appetite excellent
and she can walk ten miles a day without
exhibiting fatigue ; she does not make use
of a stick to support herself; and it is real
ly true that she has trudged all the way, on
foot, from her native mountains to the me
tropolis of Fiance. She passed through
Lyons and Dijon, where she attended the
Theatres at the desire ot Ihe managers, who
made her a liberal compensation for the bene
fit they obtained from her presence, people
coming from all parts to behold the senior
of the human race. The aged dame lias al
ready been presented to the Dauphin, Dau-
phiness, and the Duke of Bordeaux. She
is to go the round ot the theatres for her
own benefit ana that of the managers, who
expect to reap a gr|at profit from exhibiting
>ner to the public. •
f*—Gaming was invented by fits
Lydians, when under the pressure of a great
tarnme. To divert themselves from dwel
ling on their sufferings, the) contrived dice,
balls* tables, &c. It is .added, that to hear
theirpOlaroity the better they used to play a
whole day without interruption; that they
might not be racked with the thoughts of
food, f nis in vention, intended as a remedy
for hunger, is* now a very common cause of
that evil.
d volumes '; besides seve
‘ to particular institutittr
who is inclii
'Arltyft
ishion ‘
ter
m
ousand eigh
Louis XIY.. I
thousand three hundred volumes, and so lope
throng
shortest
Unc
it amounted to fifty 1
feX.
tSues ■
certair
'not only t
to til
is tl
m
Thought.—A young man
in a lovo fit;
rescued from 1
m, who hear
illy, that he hr
his farewell at
. .... v-
