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years the great poet, whose fame was already spread over Europe, seems to have wandered from city to city in his native country, in a state almost of beggary, impelled by a restlessness of spirit which no change of scene would relieve. But Ferrara was still the central spot around which his affections hovered, and to which, apparently in spite of himself, he would In 1597, the Duke Alphonso, his former friend and patron, consigned him as a lunatic to the Hospital of St. Anne. In this receptacle of wretchedness the poet was confined for above seven years. The princess Leonora who had been supposed to have been the innocent cause of his detention, died in 1581; but neither this event, or the solicitations of several of his most powerful friends and admirers, could prevail upon Alphonso to grant him his liberty. Meanwhile the alleged lunatic occupied and lightened many of his hours by the exercise of his pen. His compositions both in prose and verse were numerous, and many of them found their way to the press. At last, in 1586, at the earnest solicitation of Don Vincenza Gonzaga, son of the duke of Mantua, he was released from his long imprisonment. But his old disposition to flit about from place to place, seemed to cling to him like a disease. In this singular mode of existence, he met with

majesty, the beauty and loftiness both of senti-
ment and language by which it is marked are
perhaps in somewhat artificial style, and want
the life and spell of power which belong to the
creations of the mightier masters of epic song,-
Homer, Dante, and Milton. His genius was
unquestionably far less original and self-sustain-
ed than any of these. It is not, however, the
triumph of mere art with which he captivates
and imposes upon us, but something far beyond
that; it is rather what Wordsworth, in speak.
ing of another subject, has called "the pomp of
cultivated nature."




In most cases growing out of differences in society, it is the man who is most in the wrong who seeks redress. He feels himself in the wrong, and therefore in a manner disgraced; he wants something to take off the sense of public censure, and he remembers that by the code of honor a duel absolves both parties of all that went before it. We remember an instance which occurred in a packet-ship, where a man, either drunk or in some violent excitement, made an assault on a table at which several persons some of them ladies-were sitting. The nearest man repelled him by force, and was after.

or he must have fought.

Lord Brudenell, son of the Earl of Cardigan,
ran away with a married lady, who was after-
wards divorced, and he married her, and she is
now Lady Brudenell. But his Lordship, after
the first escapade, was somewhat surprised that
he did not receive a challenge from the injured

husband, and he was so anxious to make repara-
tion, that at last he wrote to offer it. His note
was worded as follows:

so the best logic for impostors; and if any of his credentials were short weight, he was ready to throw his pistol into the scale. In the case in question, Mr. J—— R—, whom the Baron met in a certain set where he had access, was famous for his good dinners, from which the Baron was always left out. Weary of this, he called one day on Mr. R., and spread his credentials, such as they were, before him, by way of removing suspicions which, he said, he had heard R, had expressed, and against which he made a labored argument. He left his pa. pers, and desired they might be returned with a note expressive of the impression they produ ced; but R. returned them in a blank envelope. The Baron thereupon sent a challenge, which was left at the door as if it had been an invitation for dinner. Mrs. R. opened it, and immediately replied to it as follows;

One story suggests another; and to stories about duels there is no end. We will make an end of telling them, however, with one from Boston, where, we are told, there is a correspondence going on still, which began ten years ago with a challenge. Mr. A., a bachelor, chal

the strangest vicissitudes of fortune. One day wards called upon, at Havre, to fight him for his lenged Mr. B., a married man with one child,

"SIR: Having done you the greatest injury that one man can do another, I think it imcumbent upon me to offer you the satisfaction which one gentleman owes to another in such circumstances."

"Sir,-Your note is received. My husband will not have any thing to do with you under any circumstances; but whenever you produce official proof that you have been aid-de-camp to Prince Blucher, as you say, I will fight a duel with you myself.


he would be the most conspicuous object at a
splendid court, covered with lavish honors of
the prince, and basking in the admiration of all
beholders; another, he would be travelling a

satisfaction. He replied, "Sir, you brought
your disgrace upon yourself, and I will lend you
no aid to wipe it off." The answer was most
logical, and in accordance with sense, and our

who replied that the conditions were not equal,
that he must necessarily put more at risk with
his life than the other, and he declined. A year
afterwards he received a challenge from Mr. A.,

lone on the highway, with weary steps and emp-customs and opinions; but by the code of hon. who stated that he too had now a wife and child,

[American Monthly Magazine.

The reply was this:

ty purse, and reduced to the necessity of bor. rowing, or rather begging, by the humblest suit the means of sustaining existence. Such was his life for six or seven years. At last, in 1594, he made his appearance at Rome. It was resolved that the greatest living poet of Italy should be crowned with the laurel in the imperial city, as Petrarch had been more than two hundred and fifty years before. The decree to that effect was passed by the Pope and the Senate; but ere the day of triumph came, Tasso THE ALPHABET OF REQUISITES FOR A WIFE.— was seized with an illness, which he instantly [By an Elderly Bachelor.]-A wife should be felt would be mortal. At his own request he Amiable, affectionate, artless, affable, accom. was conveyed to the monastery of St. Onofrio, plished; Beautiful, benign, benevolent; Chaste, the same retreat in which, twenty years before, charming, candid, cheerful, complacent, charihis father had breathed his last; and here he table, civil, constant, Dutiful, dignified, elegant, patiently awaited what he firmly believed would be the issue of his malady.. He expired in the easy, engaging, entertaining; Faithful, fond, faultless, free; Good, graceful, generous, gov. arms of Cardinal Cuitheo Alpobrandini, on the ernable, good-humored, Handsome, harmless, 25th of April, 1595, having just entered upon The real cause of the most violent quarrels is healthy, heavenly-minded; Intelligent, interesthis fifty-second year. The Cardinal had just very often beyond the reach of evidence or ex-ing, industrious, ingenuous; Kind, lively, liberal, brought him the Pope's benediction, on receiv-planation; and this it is which accounts for lovely; Modest, merciful, mannerly, Neat, noti. ing which he exclaimed, "This is the crown with permanent and moral differences breaking out ble; Obedient, obliging; Pretty, pleasing, which I hope to be crowned, not as a poet in on a trivial pretext, which seems like nothing; peaceable, pure; Righteous; Sociable, submisthe Capitol, but with the glory of the blest in but is backed by old hatreds, indefinable slights, sive, sensible; Temperate, true; Virtuous; rivalries, and hoarded animosities. The once Well-formed, and Young. When I meet with Critics have differed widely in the estimation notorious Baron Von Hoffman challenged a man a woman possessed of all these requisites, I of the poetical genius of Tasso, some ranking for not inviting him to dinner-a cause not like- will marry! the Jerusalem Delivered with the grandest pro- ly to be avowed, but certainly it was the real ductions of ancient or modern times, and others one. The Baron had lost his trunk in the riv. The most costly book that was ever printed, nearly denying it all claim to merit in that spe- er with all his letters of introduction, and con- was the Flora Brittannica, at the expense of cies of compositions of which it professed to be sequently, till more came, his standing was not John, Earl of Bute, (Wilkes' friend.) Only 7 an example. Nothing certainly but the most well ascertained. Some persons received him, copies were struck off, and the plates were then morbid prejudice could have dictated Boileau's others denounced him; but this latter class the destroyed. The Earl presented a copy each to peevish allusion to "the tinsel of Tasso," as Baron, if he could get at them, was always the King and Queen of England, the King and contrasted with "the gold of Virgil;" but already to fight. He knew very well that the Queen of France, the Pope, the King of Sar. though the former is one of surpassing grace and ratio ultima regum, the logic of kings, was al-dinia, and kept one to himself.

"MY LORD: In taking off my hands a woman who has proved herself a wretch, you have done me the greatest favor one man can do another; and I think it incumbent upon me to offer you the acknowledgments which one gentleman owes to another in such circumstances."


and he supposed therefore the objection of Mr. B. was no longer valid. Mr. B. rep that he now had two children—consequently, the inequality still exsisted. The next year, Mr. A., renewed his challenge, having now two child. ren also; but his adversary had three. This matter, when last heard from, was still going

on, the numbers being six to seven, and the challenge yearly renewed.

hended under that name. This method of fight-
ing in chariots is very ancient: we have it no-
ticed in Homer, and in the book of Exodus, and
thence forward to the book of Kings and Chron.
icles. But this way of fighting was inconvenient,
and the Saracens, who were once the best sol-
diers in the world in their days, used horses.
These Saracens, it is probable, were descended
from the ancient Parthians, who also fought on
horseback, and used to fly, with an intention to
betray into disorder the array of the enemy's


In order to refute the many tales and rumors relative to the occasion which induced the celebrated virtuoso to acquire such a wonderful power of execution on the fourth string of the violin, an Italian publication has lately given the following particulars, professedly in the words of the great master himself:


"At Lucca I always led the orchestra when. ever the reigning family attended the opera. was also frequently sent into the Court circle and I gave a grand concert every fortnight. The Princess Eliza (Bacciocchi, Napoleon's sister) always retired before the conclusion, because the harmonic notes of my instrument affected her nerves too powerfully. A very amiable lady, whom I had long since adored, was frequently present at these parties, and I soon perceived that a pleasing secret also attracted her to me. Our mutual passion imperceptibly gained strength. One day I promised in the next concert to surprise her with a musical piece of gallantry, which should have reference to the terms upon which we stood. At the same time I caused the Court to be apprized that I meant to perform a new composition, with the title of A Love Scene.' General curiosity was excited; but || what was the amazement of the company when I entered with a violin which had but two strings! I had left only the G and the E strings. The latter was intended to express all the feelings of a young female; the former to imitate || the voice of a despairing lover. In this manner I executed a kind of impassioned dialogue, in which the tenderest tones succeeded expressions of jealousy. At one time they were caressingat another, tearful accords, cries of anger and of rapture, of pain and of felicity. A reconciliation formed the close; the lovers, more enamoured than ever, of each other, performed a pas de deux, which terminated in a brilliant coda. ThisScene' was highly applauded. I say nothing of the delighted looks which the lady of my thoughts cast upon me. The Princess Eliza, after loading me with praises, said to me, flatteringly, 'You have done the impossible on two strings; would not a single one be enough for your talent?' I promised immediately to make the trial. This idea flattered my imagination, and in a few weeks I composed for the fourth string a sonata entitled Napoleon, which I performed on the 25th of August, before a numerous and brilliant Court. The success surpassed my expectations. From that time dates my predeliction for the G string. People were never tired of listening to my pieces com- One remarkable fact concerning the increase posed for that string. As one keeps learning of coaches among us, that it is computed that from day to day, so I gradually attained that not less than 10,000 persons are daily on the road proficiency, in which there ought now to be noth-in stage coaches, in different parts of the kinging astonishing." dom; this, however astonishing, is not at all improbable. Our present number of hackneycoaches that ply in the streets of the metropolis, is 1,200, besides cabriolets, which, in imitation of the French vehicle, have so recently been introduced among us.

[London Mirror.


An able and ingenious author has treated the subject that gives a title to the present paper, in a manner so generally interesting, that it necessarily requires some apology for the following addition to it, but it is presumed to contain some few particulars that may have escaped the notice of that agreeable writer.

Julius Cæsar found chariots here eighteen hundred years ago; for all wheel-carriages which warriors rode and fought in, are fairly compre.

From the Romans and Saracens the nations of Europe might learn to reject the use of chariots in war (if they had not done it sooner,) for al. most all the nations of Europe sent great armies against them to recover the Holy Land.

Coaches are again found in England in the days of Queen Elizabeth, when they were im. ported by the way of France, as our fashions commonly are; and it is most certain, that the judges rode on horseback to Westminster-Hall, in term time, all the reign of king James I., and possibly a good deal later. At the Restoration, king Charles II. rode on horseback, between his two brothers, the Dukes of York and Glou. cester; and the whole cavalcade, which was ve. ry splendid, and consisted of a great number of persons, was performed on horseback.

Stowe says, when queen Elizabeth went to St. Paul's to return thanks for the defeat of the Armada, "she did come in a chariot throne," the same being "drawn by two white horses ;" and Wilson adds that "the rest crept in by degrees, as men at first venture to sea ;" and that she in "her old age used reluctantly such an effeminate conveyance."

In the year 1672, at which period, throughout the kingdom, there were only six stage coaches constantly running, a pamphlet was written and published by Mr. John Cressed, of the Charterhouse, urging their suppression, and amongst the grave reasons given against their continuance, the author says, "These stage coaches make gentlemen come to London on every small occasion, which otherwise they would not do, but upon urgent necessity; nay, the convenience of the passage makes their wives often come up, who, rather than come such long journeys on horseback, would stay at home. Then, when they come to town, they must presently be in the mode, get fine cloths, go to plays and treats, and by these means get such a habit of idleness and love of pleasure, as make them uneasy ever af. ter."


The year 1812 was probably the most eventful of any in history, ancient or modern. England was convulsed by the riots in the manufacturing districts; Mr. Percival lost his life, and at his death commenced the detestable reign of

Liverpool and Vansittart; Wellington took the towns of Cuidad, Rodrigo and Badajos, and won the battle of Salamanca; Spain abolished the Peerage and the Inquisition, and proclaimed her new Constitution; all South America was in civil war; and Napoleon fought the battles of Wilna, Smolenski, Brodino, and Moscow, and finally saw his mighty host perish in the snow; the English likewise too kAtmarez and Seville, and witnessed disgrace and defeat from the Americans at sea and in the Canadas. In this eventful year no less than three millions of Christians were armed for reciprocal carnage, and all Europe and America were made slaughter houses of the human race. It is supposed that more than one million of men, women, and children were butchered or otherwise sacrificed in that memorable year.


Make, says Dr. Franklin, a full estimate of all you owe, and of all that is owing to you. Re. duce the same to a note. As fast as you can collect pay over to those you owe. If you cannot collect, renew your note every year, and get the best security you can. Go to business diligently, and be industrious; waste no idle moments; be very economical in all things; discard all pride; be faithful in your duty to God, by regular and hearty prayer morning and night; attend church and meeting regular every Sunday, and do unto all men as you would they should do unto you. If you are too needy in your circumstances to give to‘the poor, do whatever else is in your power for them cheerfully; but if you can, always help the worthy, poor and unfortunate. Pursue this course dilligently and sincerely for seven years; and if you are not happy, comfortable and independent in your circumstances, come to me and I will pay your



Aquafortis and the air which we breathe are made of the same materials. Linen, and sugar, and the spirits of wine, are so much alike in their chemical composition, that an old shirt can be converted into its own weight in sugar, and the sugar into spirits of wine. Water is made of two substances, one of which is the cause of

almost all combustion or burning, and the other will burn with more rapidity than almost any thing in nature. The famous peruvian bark, so much used to strengthen weak stomachs, and the poisonous principle of opium, are formed of the same materials.


is a clock with one hand called, l' Horologe de In the courtyard of the Palace of Versailles limort de le Roi. It contains no works, but consists merely of a face in the form of a sun surrounded by rays. On the death of a King the hand is set to the moment of his demise, and remains till his successor has rejoined him in the grave. The custom originated under Louis Thirteenth, and continued till the revolution.It was revived on the death of Louis Eighteenth; and the hand still continues fixed on the precise moment of that monarch's death.

There are no two things so much talked of, and so seldom seen, as virtue and the funds.





SALUTATORY.-In commencing a second volume of our little periodical, after an interim of several months, the inquiry may be made, What will be its character ? To those who are acquainted with the first volume, it will be necessary only to say, that this will be similar in the variety and quantity of matter to its predecessor. To the stranger we make a more explicit answer to the inquiry.

It shall be our aim to present to the reading community subjects suited to the capacities and tastes of every virtuous class—the child as well as the adult-keeping constantly in view those great cardinal principles of morality which elevate the standard of moral excellence, and enrich the understanding.

moon, the solar system, and carried his young mind far
into the field of immensity, where the fixed stars beam
in mysterious grandeur. Simplicity marked every
word, and even that infant mind, led by such a tutor,
grasped the whole creation. Tenfold lustre seemed to
beam in his eyes as those great truths were impressed
upon him, and yet he asked, Where is heaven? Be-
yond all this, at the farthest verge of the universe,
said the divine, is Heaven-there is the throne of the
Almighty. The child was satisfied. He had been


Through nature up to nature's God,"
and often when the last bright footsteps of the sun had
faded from the sky, and the stars glittered upon the
brow of Heaven, that little teacher would take his little
sisters by the hand, and pointing to the glowing firma-
ment, would tell them where God dwelt-would tell
them that away in yon blue void their dear departed
mother was singing praises to the great Redeemer. O,
beautiful simplicity! Surely it needs all our learning to
talk to a little child.

We shall endeavor to guard against the admission of any article, either prose or poetry, however beautiful the diction or sublime the conception, that may tend to vitiate taste, corrupt the heart, or paint the cheek of modesty with the blush of shame.

Mothers, would you give an early bias to the minds of your children towards morality and virtue, would you guard them from the snares of error, and enrich their minds early with true knowledge, attend to their inqui

We shall cater largely for the female taste, for tories, mothers and daughters we look for the greater portion

and send them not away with an unsatisfactory answer. A truth, impressed upon the understanding of a child by a parent, will be its companion through

of the readers of the Casket. We hope to make it ac-
ceptable to the family circle-the empire of woman-
and hope it may entertain both parent and child, profit-
ably and agreeably.

life. Many a future Newton might thus be early start-
ed on his bright career of usefulness and renown, while

others with equal talents would be groping during the
whole morning of life amid the darkness of error, for the
want of the lamp of Truth to light them onward. Let
parents use all their learning when talking to their
children, and many would have their hearts made glad
criticism candidly, and as far as we are capable, judi- by the buds of promise that would presently appear.
ciously, without regard to personal friendship, for we
consider the correction of error to be the kind office of
a friend.

We deem good selections preferable to poor original matter, and shall therefore reject all communications which do not possess decided merit. We shall use

We shall never allow space for sectional disputes of a religious or political character; but shall ever be happy to give place to communications which breathe the spirit of the ethics of HIM who "spake as never man spake."

Education-popular education, will claim a share of our attention, for with it the best interests of our counBut we shall spice these grave try are identified. subjects with a proper share of the fictitious and humorous, and fill our Casket with gems of every description, whether of the imperishable diamond or the transient dew-drop.

We shall give frequent graphic illustrations, executed on wood, in a manner which, we trust, will add much to the value of the work. In a word, we intend to spare no labor or expense to make our little sheet a favorite with the public. We hope to amuse and instruct both old and young, and if we fail to accomplish our purpose, the fault will be in our inability, not in a want of laudable efforts.

We send the first number of the Casket to all subscribers to the first volume. Those who wish the second volume, will please forward the amount of the subscription immediately, at our risk and expense.


A child.”—This was the profound remark of a philosopher, and is an incontrovertible truth. There is a beautiful simplicity in the mind of a little child, which requires the most lucid and conclusive explanations to convince it of the many truths sought after by the budding intellect. The man, standing erect in all the strength of mental maturity, can have his inquiries satisfied with a simple remark, does it but awaken a certain train of reflection; and he may, through his own effort, discover the object of his search, after receiving the key from another. Not so with the child. It hears the rumbling thunder and asks, What makes it? We tell it that it is the report of the flash that preceded it, and it asks, In what manner? The whole powers of a natural philosopher are required to give the infant inquirer a comprehensive answer.

We once heard a little boy ask a learned divine, Where does God live? In heaven, was the reply. Where is heaven? asked the little seeker, earnestly. The pious man summoned his imagination to his aid, and told the boy of the atmosphere around him, the

Chaplet of Comus.

FINDING STORE.-A chap just from "the bush," was patroling the streets of Boston a short time since, with a sheet of gingerbread under his m, and gazing at the signs; when one which was labelled "General Finding Store," attracted his attention. He entered, chewing his gingerbread, and after a severe effort at swallowing, like a hen eating dough, he exclaimed, "I swow! you must be darn'd lucky chaps to find all these things-I'spose you aint found my umbrella, nor nothing, have you?"

A NEW IDEA.-One of our jokers, the other day, on reading the deaths in a down east paper, and seeing so long at the north-he wasn't but 30, and had'nt mothe ages of a great many on the list to be 80 and upwards, said he could'nt see how people afforded to live ney enough to hold out much longer.

WOOD ENGRAVING.-This much improved art, now extensively used, is of quite early origin, and probbly preceded engraving on metal in Europe nearly two centuries. The earliest account on record of this art is given by Papillon, who says that he saw the engravings which he described, as existing in 1285. They were eight in number, and were called the "Actions of Alexander." They were six by nine inches in size. In a frontispiece, decorated with ornaments, there was the following inscription:

A HORRIBLE DEATH.-A man named Death, who lives in a town near Detroit, is said to be so prodigiously ugly, that the woolly head of a negro who accidentstant. It was said to be a first rate specimen of Saxolly met him in the street, was turned white in an inony wool. The negro was afterwards regularly sheared every spring.

"Allessandro Alberico Cunio Caviliere, and Isabella
Cunio, twin brother and sister, first reduced, imagined
and attempted to be executed in relief, with a small
knife on blocks of wood, made even and polished by
this learned and dear sister; continued and finished by
us together at Ravenna, from the eight pictures of our
invention, painted six times larger than here represent-
ed; engraved, explained by verses, and thus marked
upon the paper, to perpetuate the number of them, and
enable us to present them to our relations and friends
in testimony of gratitude, friendship and affection. All
this was done and finished by us, when only sixteen
years of age."
We have in our possession several wood engravings
executed three hundred years ago, which show that the
art had attained to considerable perfection at that peri-
od. But engravings on wood at the present day far
excel many of the finer specimens of metal engraving
in the days of Hogarth.

A CAUSTIC HIT.-Piron, the French author, having

been taken up by the watchmen of the night in the streets of Paris, was carried on the following morning before the lieutenant of police, who haughtily interrogated him concerning his business or profession. "I am a poet, sir," said Piron. "Oh! oh! a poet, are you?" said the magistrate, "I have a brother who is a poet." Then we are even," said Piron, "for I have a brother who is a fool."

LEANNESS.-When the Duke de Chosen, a remarkably lean man, went to London to negotiate a peace, Charles Townsend being asked whether the French government had sent the preliminaries of a treaty, answered, "He did not know, but they had sent the outlines of an ambassador."

How TO CURE A COUGH.-"Well, Mrs. Lanagan, did you put the blister on your chest, as you promised, and did it rise?" "Why, then, mistress dear, the never a chest I had to put it upon, but sure and I have a a box, and I put it on that, but sorry a rise little bit and if don't believe me, come and see, it riz for it is sticking there still, I'm thinking.





In the town of Fishkill, at the house of Mr. Jeremiah Scouten, on Sunday evening, the 15th instant, by the Rev. Mr. Price, Simon P. Heermance, printer, to Miss Elizabeth Robson, all of Poughkeepsie.

We have been asked whether the Casket has any connexion, as formerly, with the "Youth's Guide." We answer it has not. The present is the commencement of the second volume of the original Casket, as published by us in 1836. At the same time, any person who has paid in advance for the Guide, can have the Casket sent in its place, and the publisher of the former will compensate us.

"And now, they too
Before the altar bow. Ye may go
And rifle earth of all its loveliness,
And of all things created hither bring
The rosiest and richest-but alas!
The world is all too poor to rival this!
Ye summon nothing from the place of dreams,
The orient realm of fancy, that can cope,
In all its passionate devotedness,

With this chaste, silent picture of the heart!!! 2

On Sunday evening last, by the Rev. S. L. Stillman, Mr. ALEXANDER L. GALE, to Miss PHEBE MONELL, ali

of this village.

On the 10th inst., at Washington, by Wm. W. Caulkins, esq., of Pleasant Valley, Mr. JAMES L. ACKERT,10 Miss CHARLOTTE NEWCOMB, of the former place.

At Amenia, on the 1st inst., by John K. Mead, esq. Mr. EBENEZER G. BUEL, of Sharon, Conn., to Miss CAROLINE D. WHITE, of the same place.


DRAWING.-In our next number we intend to commence a series of Letters on Drawing, compiled from the best authors, illustrated by several explanatory engravings. We shall endeavor to present the subject in a clear and concise manner, which we believe will


render essential aid to young ladies desirous of obtain- CAROLINE, infant daughter of William and Emma Flag-
ing a knowledge of that beautiful branch of fashionable

At Spencertown, Columbia county, on the 7th inst., ler, formerly of this village, aged two years five months. The day previous to her death, her mother asked her whether she wished to get well. "No,'' lisped the little sufferer, and exclaimed, "Oh dear, oh Lord!"

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By the thinking, good and wise: Here are laurel wreaths of glory

Gained without a crimson stain, And the widow's woful story

Does not mingle with the strain. The fair sun of Science shining,

Unobstructed, clear, and bright, With the charms of virtue joining, Fills each bosom with delight; Blooming fields of pure enjoyment,

Full of flow'rets, rich, and rare, Give the mind a sweet employment, While it gathers treasures there. Gold is but an empty bubble,

Fleeting as the restless tide; Fashion's ways are rife with trouble, And a thousand ills beside; But the worth of education,

Thought can hardly realize, Yet we live in expectation

Soon to gain, and grasp the prize.

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-Mother! I'll keep thy precepts in my heart,
And do thy bidding.

Sure that voice is her's,I know it is, because these were the words She us'd to speak so tenderly, with tears, At the still twilight-hour, or when we walk'd Forth in the Spring amid rejoicing birds, Or whispering talk'd beside the winter fire.

Then, when God shall say, My days are finished, will he give me leave To.come to thee? And can I find my home, And see thee with thy glorious garments on, And kneel at the Redeemer's feet, and beg That where the mother is, the child may dwell? LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY.

THE MERRY HEART. I would not from the wise require The lumber of their learned lore; Nor would I from the rich desire A single counter of their store. For I have ease, and I have health, And I have spirits light as air; And, more than wisdom-more than wealth, A merry heart, that laughs at care.

Like other mortals of my kind,

I've struggled for Dame Fortune's favor; And sometimes have been half inclined To rate her for her ill behavior. But Life was short-I thought it folly To lose its moments in despair; So slipped aside from melancholy, With merry heart, that laughed at care. And once, 't is true, two witching eyes

Surprised me in a luckless season; Turned all my mirth to lonely sighs,

And quite subdued my better reason, Yet 't was but love could make me grieve, And love, you know, 's a reason fair; And much improved, as I believe,

The merry heart, that laughed at care.

So now, from idle wishes clear,

I make the good I may not find; Adown the stream I gently steer,

And shift my sail with every wind. And half by nature, half by reason,

Can still with pliant heart prepare The mind, attuned to every season,

The merry heart, that laughs at care. Yet, wrap me in your sweetest dream, Ye social feelings of the mind! Give, sometimes give, your sunny gleam, And let the rest good humor find. Yes, let me hail and welcome give

To every joy my lot to share ; And pleased and pleasing let me live, With merry heart, that laughs at care.


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For the Poughkeepsie Casket. THE GREEN SCARF. A PENCIL SKETCH-NO. II.

Among the transient visiters at the Mansion House, during the summer of '36, was an elderly gentleman and daughter from Southern Geor. gia. The daughter was a delicate girl about eighteen years of age, and like many of the young females of the South, had thus early felt the pernicious effects upon her constitution, of inactivity. Accustomed as many are from childhood to have their every call attended to by the obsequious children of Africa, and during the summer season exposed to the torrid heats, they become almost constitutionally inactive, if we may so express it, and the seeds of discase too often find a rich soil whercin to flourish.

Such was the condition of the young lady just mentioned, whose pallid check told that which her vivacity could not conccal. Her father had anxiously watched the gradual fading of the rose upon her check, and when the bland breh of spring called forth the beauties of the season from the bosom of Mother earth, he departed for the north to give his daughter an opportunity to drink at the medicinal fountains of Saratoga, and breathe the pure air of our northern hills. The sudden indisposition of his daugh. ter while on board of the steamer, induced him to land at P., and for a few days they tarried at the Mansion House, until she was able again to travel. Many inquiries were made concerning the name and station of the stranger and his dark-eyed daughter. She's from the South' was the most explicit reply that any one could give. The father, for reasons best known to himself, concealed his history, and they departed for Saratoga, leaving gossip in ignorance and conjecture active. She was always seen with a green scarf, and this was one of the data by which to express her identity.


Not so secret was a fine looking young man, who arrived in the village a few days previous to their departure. He seemed to renew an intimacy, warm and confiding, with the lovely invalid; and when the evening twilight spread its refreshing mantle over the green earth, she was


seen hanging upon his arm while strolling about
the suburbs of the town. IIe entered his name
in full upon the register, and in desultory conver.
sation remarked that he was the son of Col.

INO. 2. headland some miles north of him. Thither. ward he bent his steps. It was the village of Hillsborough, situated at the head of Tampa Bay. He communicated the story of his dis

of Macon, a wealthy cotton planter.-tress to the already alarmed inhabitants, and at

He departed with the father and daughter, and in a few days all three were forgotton by our busy population.

Time rolled on, and chapter after chapter of startling history was revealed to men. The fierce Seminole, driven by injustice to lift the knife and battle-axe in defence of the graves of his fathers and the wigwam of his wife and children, had raised the warwhoop amid the everglades of Florida, and already the torch had been lighted upon the borders of the white man's dominion. The green prairies and stately forests of the west had no attractions for him-the marshes of HOME were a paradise in comparison. Patriotism, pure as light, burned in his heart, and he virtually declared, White man! there is eternal war betwixt thee and me.'

It was a calm afternoon in September. The dog-star had disappeared below the horizon, and the cool breezes of autumn gathered fragrance from the balmy orange groves of the South, to greet the appoach of the homeward bound mariner. In every grove the notes of the oriole and nonpariel were heard in mournful contrast with the shrill cry of the painted savage, whose arm was nerved for war. A party of Seminoles had watched for a long time the approach to shore of a dismantled vessel that came slowly floating upon the billows of Tampa Bay. For two days previous a violent storm had swept over sea and land, and the wreck in question was one of its numerous victims. Twenty persons were on board, one of whom was a female, whose fragile form and tender years seemed ill-befitting hardships so severe. Revenge burned in the bosoms of the red warriors, for they had just made a retreat from a field of slaughter. They concealed themselves in a jungle, and when the vessel, without rudder, mast or canvass, was driv. en by the sea breeze upon the sandy beach, with a horrid yell they bounded from their ambush, and with glittering tomahawks sprang upon the deck of the wreck. Manfully did the hardy crew, with marlinspikes and other missiles, contend against their armed assailants. It was a conflict for life. At last the savages overpowered them, and only five of the twenty escaped by retreating into the forest. The young female was taken captive, and, placed upon the shoulders of a stalwart warrior, she was carried to the home of these rude sons of the wilderness. One of the survivors was a daring youth of twenty three, who retreated not till he saw her to whom he was affianced, hopelessly wrested from his protecting arm. When night approach. ed, he cautiously stole to the shore, and saw with joy the spire of a church pointing above a

dawn the following morning a party of sixty, with the youth at their head, started in the direction of the dominions of Micanopy, in search of the fair captive. Toward evening on the second day they discovered their trail.

A dark cloud loomed up in the western horizon, and distant thunder muttered a warning to the pursuers to speed on. The tempest gathered thick and fast, and night set in, terrible indeed. They took shelter in a thicket, and for a while the rain poured in torrents. All was midnight blackness, save frequent flashes of lightning; but at length the voice of the wind was hushed, the storm-cloud rolled castward, and the light of the moon beamed forth like the propitious dawning of hope. Just as the party were preparing to proceed, a voice came floating upon the gentle night breeze. They listened attentively and the sound grew nearer, and multiplied. It was the language of the Seminoles, and a moment after several in a group passed by, all eagerly scanning every place that had the appearance of a retreat. They were evidently in search of an escaped victim. The pursuing party followed cautiously after them, as they proceeded toward a lake, not far distant. The Indians had not advanced far before their leader gave a shrill whoop, and all dashed on with arrowy speed down the inclined plane to. wards the lake.


With equal rapidity our pursuing party sped after them. The youth, their leader, was frantic with emotion, as he saw a light female form speed across an opening in the forest, in the di rection of the lake, with the fierce savages in pursuit. He was conscious it was her whom they sought, and love gave him strength and fleetness. For one moment the willows near the margin of the lake hid the savages and their victim from view, but the next, the fair girl stood upon the bald summit of a rock, poised over the placid waters. The sure aim of the rifle of the youth felled the leader of her pursuers as he emerged from the willows, and the others, affrighted, fled. But the maiden heard not, saw not the approach of deliverance, and pausing a moment upon the crest of the rock, she com mitted herself to the care of Heaven, and the lake received the beauteous one into its pure bosom.

The youth rushed to the brow of the precipice, and measuring with his eye the height for a moment, counted not the cost, but leapt to the rescue of his beloved one. The hand of Providence sustained him, and he bore his precious charge safely to shore. A rude litter was prepared for her, and in haste they returned to Hills

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