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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-