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ORIGINAL.

For the Poughkeepsie Casket.
THE RIVALS.

A PENCIL SKETCH.

emotions of Cassandra. Four years had elap- sion of circumstances. To-day it burns with
sed since Parrhasius had asked her in marriage. volcanic violence, to-morrow it is but a glimmer.
Affection, deep and abiding as vitality itself, ex-ing taper."
isted between the amiable couple; but the am-
bition of Zeuxis made him forget his duty to his
child, and he resolved that the wealthy and no-
ble Thearchus, the son of one of the judges of
the Areopagus, should be her husband. When
Parrhasius modestly pressed his suit, Zeuxis be-
came indignant and called him a plebian-a poor
Ephesian--unworthy an alliance with the
daughter of the great Athenian painter.

Zeuxis was the pride and boast of Athens.His pencil had no rival, and thrice he had been crowned victor at the Olympic games. The dwellings of the rich and noble and the temples of the gods were decorated with the fruits of his genius. He was courted by the wise and pow. erful. Admirers came from distant cities to look upon the Athenian Painter whose name was The spirit of Parrhasius was aroused, and on the lips of all men. Even the proud ruler of standing up in all the conscious dignity of genPalmyra sent a deputation to invite him to the ius, he boldly repelled the insults of Zeuxis, and, Palmyrene court. Cotemporary artists acwith a voice that reached the ears of Cassandra, knowledged his superiority, and Appollodorus, he exclaimed, "Know, proud man, that thou, the the father of Athenian painters, declared that unrivalled master of Greece, of the world, will Zeuxis "had stolen the cunning from all the yet envy the talents and fame of Parrhasius, the rest." Thus flattered and caressed, Zeuxis be-poor plebian of Ephesus!" came proud and haughty. He found no rival for he knew no equal.

The Athlothetæ employed him to paint a Wrestler or Champion to adorn the peristylum of the Gymnasia. Assembled thousands gave a simultaneous shout of applause when the picture was exhibited on the first day of the games. The victors in the chariot race, the athlatea, the discus and cestus were almost forgotten amid the general admiration of the picture of Zeuxis. Conscious of his superiority, the artist wrote beneath the picture, "Invisurus aliquis facilius quam imitatarus ;"-"Sooner envied than equalled."

The rage of Zeuxis was unbounded, and he ordered the servants to thrust the youth from his presence. The order was obeyed, and ere the setting of the sun, Parrhasius departed from Athens to practice his skill in seclusion at Ephe. sus.

For four years no tidings of the exile were conveyed to Cassandra, yet hope whispered that his prediction of excellence would be fulfilled, and that Destiny contemplated their eventual union.

This hope had thus far delayed her marriage with Thearchus. Her father, to add splendor to her nuptial rites and gratify his passion for popThis inscription met the eye of one who be- ularity, resolved to have their union consumma.

lieved it not.

The third day of the games had terminated. The last rays of the sun yet lingered upon the grey summits of the Acropolis, and burnished the crest of hoary Olympus that gleamed in the distance. Zeuxis sat alone with his wife and daughter, listening attentively to the strains of a minstrel who swept the lyre for a group of joyous dancers assembled near the grove sacred to Psyche. As the music ceased, a deep sigh escaped the daughter, and a tear trembled in the maiden's eye.

"Ha! Cassandra," said Zeuxis, "why that tear, that sigh ?" A deep crimson suffused the face of the maiden, but her lips moved not.

"Tell me Cassandra," said the father, inquisitively eyeing the blushing damsel, "tell me what new grief makes sorrowful the heart of my daughter? Thinkest thou yet of the worthless Parrhasius-even now upon the eve of thy nup. tials with the noble Thearchus ?"

"Nay, dear father," said Cassandra, "it was the music made me weep. It awakened mem. ory to the happy hours spent with my dear Portia, who is now among the immortals. Four years ago we danced together to the same strain, and the lyre was touched by the gentle Parrha

sius."

"Gentle Parrhasius, sayst thou, Cassandra; gentle Parrhasius! Wouldst thou call him gen. tle, the poor plebian, who sought to rival the noble Thearchus in thy affections ?-who openly avowed in the streets of Athens, that his pencil would yet make Zeuxis envious?" "And yet he was gentle," replied Cassandra, and the big round tears coursed down her cheeks. The brow of Zeuxis lowered as he beheld the

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"It may be so with the sensual," replied Cassandra. "With them indeed it is a passion of circumstances. Yet, after all, it is not love. It is but a poor semblance of the holy passion. Pure affection springs not from the dross of earth, the wealth, power and pageantry of individuals, or of society, nor from the ephemeral loveliness of the human form. Such is but lust, and does

not deserve the name of love. When moral and intellectual worth-the beauties and amiability of character-the noble evidence of exalted genius excite our admiration, and win our affec. tions for the possessor, then indeed do we love a worthy object. Such, dear father, was my love for Parrhasius, and notwithstanding thy will must shortly unite me with Thearchus, yet first love cannot be extinguished."

Zeuxis was silent. He loved his daughter almost to adoration, yet burning ambition would not permit him again to delay the nuptials on which he had resolved. He kissed the tears from the cheek of Cassandra, and was about to retire for the night, but the maiden seized his hand,and looking imploringly in his face said—

"Hear me once more, dear father, ere the decree of my unhappiness has irrevocably gone forth. Hope whispers in my ear that the prophetic taunt uttered by Parrhasius may yet be verified. Thou knowest the genius and spirit of that youth, and I know that thy gentle nature will now forgive him the utterance of words spoken in passion. Forgive and Cassandra will be happy."

ted during the festival of the Olympic games.-
For three years she contrived to delay the cere "For thy sake I will pardon the rashness of
mony, for she loved not Thearchus. But now, the Ephesian boy," said Zeuxis. But why thy
Zeuxis was resolved, and had made preparationshope? Wouldst thou see thy father rivalled, and
for the celebration of the marriage on the last the voice of Athens loud in the praises of anoth-
day of the games. The herald had already er?"
made the proclamation, and all Athens greeted
with joy the approaching nuptials of the noble
Thearchus and lovely Cassandra.

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"Nay," replied Cassandra, "it is not for that I hope. But thy daughter loves Parrhasius, and may the gods make him worthy of that love in the eyes of her father. This is the foundation of my hope. Is it not just ?"

"Truly," replied Zeuxis, and bade her good night.

"Oife word more !" exclaimed Cassandra, still clinging to his arm, "One more boon and Cassandra will be completely happy. Promise me that I shall wed Parrhasius, if his prediction is

"Would you see your Cassandra happy ?" said fulfilled.” the weeping maiden.

"I would indeed," replied Zeuxis, "and it was for her happiness that I spurned the Ephesian, and favored Thearchus."

"But Thearchus has no place in my affections," replied Cassandra. "I love him not, and to wed him is but to plunge me into deeper misery! What is wealth, what is nobility and the applause of the people, if the affections of the heart have no participation therein. They are but the ministers of woe to the broken-spirit. Without love there is no happiness; without hap. piness, what is life? I would sooner wed a peasant than an archon, did he but bring with him the riches of true affection."

"Madness! madness!" exclaimed Zeuxis, "This philosophy may do for a peasant maiden, but it should not pollute the lips of a daughter of Zeuxis. Talk of love! Why it is but a pas.

"I promise," replied Zeuxis,conscious that her hopes were groundless, and that the last day of the festival would see the daughter of the Athenian painter become the bride of one of the no. blest youth of Athens.

On the following morning Zeuxis prepared for the games. Just at the moment of starting, a helot approached him with a roll, directed to "Zeuxis, the unrivalled painter of Greece." He unbound it and read

"PARRHASIUS, THE PLEBIAN BOY OF EPHESUS, TO ZEUXIS, THE GRAET ATHENIAN ARTIST, GREETING-Ten days and the games of Olympia will terminate.

On the ninth I challenge thee to a trial of skill. The subject is left to the choice of the challenged." Zeuxis rent the challenge in a thousand pieces, and burning with rage exclaimed, "Tell your master that Zeuxis stoops not to compete with plebians. Tell him I trampled his insolent challenge beneath my feet, even as I would crush its

author. Begone! Gods, is it come to this!" continued he, "Must I first bear the taunts of that boy, and then, in the face of thousands have him challenge me to trial. I know him well. If I refuse, a herald will proclaim that refusal in every street of Athens, in the Gymnasium and the Circus. It must not be." And he commanded the helot to return.

"Tell your master," said he, "that I accept the challenge the subject, fruit." The helot departed.

"Now," said Zeuxis, "my triumph will be com

plete, and Cassandra's delusion will be broken. Now will I prove that the insolent Ephesian is unworthy the notice of one so superior and truly noble;" and with proud step he proceeded to

the Circus.

In a few hours all Athens was in commotion. A new impulse had been given to the popular excitement, and the first sound that fell upon the ear of Zeuxis, as he entered the Circus, was the voice of a herald proclaiming that an Ephesian painter had challenged the great Artist to a trial

of skill.

The fact soon became known to Cassandra, and joy beamed into the heart of the maiden. Although she knew not the name of the competitor, yet she was sure it was none other than Parrhasius. None heard the voice of the herald with more gladness than that devoted one, and the gods received her adoration and praise.

The time fixed upon for the trial arrived. The thousands collected to witness the games,|| flowed like a living torrent though the eastern gate of the city, and halted upon the hill which overlooked a flowery plain, bordering upon the Illysus. Sol had passed over half his journey to the meridian, when, amid the thundering shouts of the populace, Zeuxis with a proud and haughty step left the pavillion of the judges, and with a tablet in his hand, on which was painted a cluster of grapes, proceeded to the plain. Upon a column erected for the purpose, near a grove, the artist placed his painting, and withdrawing the curtain that covered it, returned to the pavillion. All was silence amid that immense multitude, and the songs of birds came up from the grove as if they were chanting an eulogy for the great painter.

Suddenly a deafening shout of "Zeuxis and Athens!" arose from the throng.. A whole bevy of birds from the grove had alighted upon the column, and eagerly sought to devour the pictured fruit!

This was deemed sufficient evidence of the superiority of the Athenian, and the people clamored loudly for the crown of laurels and the branch of palm for Zeuxis. But the skill of the competitor was yet to be tried. Pale and trem

Parrhasius approached his scornful competitor, and handed him his tablet. Had a thunderbolt fell at the feet of Zeuxis, he could not have been more astounded. The curtain was painted upon the tablet, and was so exquisitely wrought, that even the practiced eye of Zeuxis did not detect the deception.

“I yield! I yield!" cried the Athenian; Zeuxis beguiled poor birds, but Parrhasius hath deceived Zeuxis! Bring the laurel and the palm; my hand alone shall crown the victor!"

as victor.

the glad season with their rejoicing, but will draw pure draughts from her unfathomed well at Wisdom's shrine, and nurse the never-dying lamp that burns brighter and brighter as ages roll on. E.

THE HAPPIEST TIME.

When are we happiest? When the morning light wakes the young roses from their crimson rest, when cheerful sounds, borne upon the fresh winds, teil man to resume his work with better zest,-while the bright waters leap from rock to glen? Alas! roses will fade away, and thunder tempests will deform the sky, and sum

"And thy promise!" exclaimed the fair youth just mentioned, bounding forward and grasping the hand of Zeuxis. The mantle fell from the mer heats bid the spring buds decay; the clear shoulders of the youth, and Cassandra, with all sparkling fountain may be dry, and nothing the loveliness of virtuous affection, received the beauteous may adorn the scene to tell what it has passionate embrace of Parrhasius. The crown been. Are we happiest in the crowded hall, of laurels and the branch of palm were brought, when flatterers bend the knee and fortune smiles? and there, in the presence of assembled thou- No: we are not happy there: how soon, how sands, Zeuxis decorated the plebian of Ephesus very soon such pleasures pall,-how fast the Mounting a pedestal, he addressed rainbow coloring of falsehood must flee and its the multitude. He recounted the passion of Par-prison flowrets prove the sting of care. Are we rhasius for Cassandra, and of his promise; and the happiest when the evening hearth is circled told of his engagement with Thearchus. But with its crown of living flowrets,--when the laugh the shouts of the multitude interrupted him, of harmless mirth goes round, and affection show, and the names of Parrhasius and Cassandra fell ers from her bright urn her richest balm on the difrom every lip. lating heart? is bliss to be found there? Oh no!-if it might be always, it would be happiness almost like heaven; those brows, without one shading of distress, would want nothing but eternity,

A noble youth came from the pavillion with
another branch of palm, and placed it in the
hand of Cassandra. It was Thearchus. He had
witnessed the devotion of the lovers, and his
generous heart melted at the spectacle before
him.

He had tenderly loved the maiden, but
he nobly resigned all.
“Laurels for Thearchus!" shouted the multi-
tude, and he, too, was crowned victor, for he
had conquered love.

Matrons and virgins strewed with flowers the
path of Parrhasius and Cassandra as they return-
ed to the city; and on the following day their
nuptials were celebrated with a splendor fully
adequate to the wishes of the ambitious Zeuxis.

The Games ended-the city became quiet-a few years of happiness cast their sun-light around the foot-steps of the great painter, and he went down into the tomb honored and mourned by a nation-by a world, wherever his fame spread. His mantle fell upon Parrhasius, who is revered as the greatest painter of antiquity.

Poughkeepsie, April, 1838.

B. J. L.

For the Poughkeepsie Casket.
TRANSPOSITIONS.
SPRING. BY J. G. P.

The sun is on the waters, and the air breathes
with a stirring energy; the plants swell their
buds, blow, and expand their leaves, wooing the
eye, and stealing on the soul with perfume and
with beauty:-Life awakes; its wings are wa-

but they must decay, for they are things of earth and pass away: those voices must grow tremu. lous with years,-those smiling brows must wear a tinge of gloom,-those sparkling eyes must be quenched in bitter tears, and, at last, close darkly in the tomb; if happiness depends in them alone, how quickly it is gone!-When are we happy, then? Oh! we are happiest when we are resigned to whatsoever may brim our cup of life,— when we, creatures of earth, can know ourselves to be but weak and blind, and trust alone in Him who giveth in his mercy joy or pain.

E.

THE HUNDRED LARGEST CITIES IN THE WORLD.-A recent German publication gives the following curious calculation respecting the hundred most populous cities in the world: -These are Jeddo in Japan, 1,630,000 in. habitants; Pekin, 1,500,000; London, 1,500,000; Hans Ichen, 1,000,000; Calcutta, 900,000; Paris, 900,000; Madras, 816,000; Nankin, 800,000; Congo Ischeen, 800,000; Werst Chans, 600,000; Constantinople, 490,000; Be. nares, 530,000; Kio, 520,000; Su Ischam, 497,000; Houngh Ischem, 500,000; New-York, 300,000; Philadelphia, 200,000. The fortieth in the list is Berlin, containing 190,000, and Among the hundred the last Bristol, 89,000. cities, three contain a million and a half, one

bling, the Ephesian stepped forth from the paving and its fins at play glancing from out the upwards of a million, nine from half a million

villion, and not a voice greeted him save one. It was the silvery tones of a fair youth, half

streamlets, and the voice of love and joy is
warbled in the grove. Children sport upon the

to a million, twenty-three from two hundred thousand to five hundred thousand, fifty-six

enshrouded in a mantle, who cried out "Victory springing turf with shouts of innocent glee, from one to two hundred thousand, and six from

for Parrhasius !"

"Victory for Parrhassius!" echoed a few, but, their voices fell like lead upon the young pain. ter. As he passed, with his tablet in his hand, the spot were Zeuxis was receiving the congratulations of the multitude, the proud Athenian, in a haughty and scornful tone, cried out, "Come sir, away with your curtain, that we may see what goodly affair you have got beneath it."

and youth is fired with a diviner passion while
the eye speaks deeper meaning, and the check
is filled with purer flushings at every tender
motion of the heart. The Boundless Power
that rules all living creatures now has sway :—
In man refined to holiness it feeds upon a flame
that purifies the heart,—and yet the searching
spirit will not blend these attractive charms of

eighty-seven thousand to one hundred thousand. Of these hundred cities, 58 are in Asia, and 32 in Europe-of which 4 are in Germany, 4 in France, 5 in Italy, 8 in England, and 3 in Spain. The remaining ten are divided between Africa and America.

Rats and conquerors must expect no mercy in misfortune.

LADIES' DEPARTMENT.

THE SECRET OF PRESERVING BEAUTY.

It has been observed that, during the period of youth, different women wear a variety of characters, such as the gay, the grave, etc. When it is found that even this loveliest season of life places its objects in varying lights, how neccssary does it seem that woman should carry this idea yet farther by analogy, and recollect she has a summer as well as a spring; an autumn, and a winter! As the aspect of the earth alters with the changes of the year, so does the appearance of a woman adapt itself to the time which pas. ses over her. Like a rose in the garden, she buds,

she blows, she fades, she dies.

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In a short time of universal famine, how ma. ny jewels would you give for a single loaf of bread ?-in a raging fever, how many diamonds would you sacrifice for a moment's case ?—in a parched desert, now many embroidered robes would you exchange for a cool draught? That When the freshness of virgin youth vanishes; these gaudy trifles should be valued at so high a rate, is certainly no small disparagement to the when Delia passes her teens, and fastly approachunderstanding of mankind, and is a sad demones her thirtieth year, she may then consider her. stration of the meanness into which we have sunk self in the noon of her day; but the sun which shines so brightly on her beauties, declines while by the fall. Compare them with the sublime he displays them, and a few short years, and the and stupendous and the lovely objects that every where meet your eye in the creation around you. jocund step, the airy habit, the sportive manner, all must pass away with the flight of time. Bo. Can your richest purple excel the violet, or your purest white eclipse the lily of the valley? Can fore this happens, it would be well for her to rcyour brightest gems outshine the glory of the member that it is wiser to throw a shadow over sun? Why then should enormous sums be exher yet unimpaired charms, than to hold them pended in glittering baubles and sparkling dust? in the light till they are seen to decay. Compare them with your books, your Bible, your From this, my fair friends will easily appre-souls-all neglected for their sake! Arise at

hend that the most beautiful woman is not at forty what she was at twenty, nor at sixty what she was at forty. Each age has an appropriate style of figure and of pleasing; and it is the business

of discernment and taste to discover and maintain those advantages in their due seasons.

The general characteristics of youth are, meek dignity, chastened sportiveness and gentle seriousness. Middle age has the privilege of pre

serving unaltered, the graceful majesty and ten. der gravity which may have marked its earlier years. But the gay manners of the comic muse must, in the advance of life, be discreetly softened down to little more than cheerful amenity. Time marches on, and another change takes place. Amiable as the former characteristics may be, they must give way to the sober, the venerable aspect with which age, experience, and "a soul commercing with the skies," ought to adorn

the silver hairs of the Christian matron.

seen.

once to correct sentiments and noble aims; make
the Bible your looking-glass, the grace of the
spirit your jewels-if you must shine, shine here;
here you may shine with advantage in the esti.
mation of the wise and good-in the view and
approbation of the holy angels and the eternal
God; shine in death when the lustre of the fine

gold has become dim, and the ray of the diamond
extinguished; shine in the celestial hemisphere
with saints and seraphs, amid the splendor of the

Eternal.

ADVICE TO LADIES.

BIOGRAPHY.

TASSO.

This distinguished Italian poet was born on the 11th March, 1544, at Sorrento, near Naples. His father, Bernardo Tasso, was also a scholar and poet of considerable repute. The life of Tasso, almost from its commencement, was a troubled romance. His infancy was distinguished for extraordinary precocity; but he was a mere child when political events determined his father to leave Naples, and separating himself from his family, took up his abode at Rome. Hither Torquato Tasso, when only eleven years of age, was

called upon to follow him, and bid adieu to his mother, whom it might almost be said was the only parent he had ever known. The feelings of the young poet were thus tenderly expressed:

"Forth from a mother's fostering breast Fate plucks me in my helpless years: With sighs I look back on her tears, Bathing the lips her kisses prest; Alas! her pure and ardent prayers The fugitive breeze now idly bears: No longer breathe we face to face, Gather'd in knot-like close embrace; Like young Ascanlus or Camell, my feet Unstable, seek a wandering sire's retreat." He never again saw his mother; she died about eighteen months after he had left her. After a residence of two years at Rome, circumstances occurred which divided him from his father.

Bernardo proceeded to Urbino, and sent his son to Bergamo, in the north of Italy; but his faVorable reception at the court of the Duke of Urbino, induced him to send for Torquato, whose beauty of person and mental accomplish. ments so pleased the Duke, that he appointed him the companion of his own son in his studies. Political changes drew Bernardo and his son from Urbino to Venice, where he was sent to the University of Padua, for the purpose of preparing him for the profession of the law. But all views of this kind wore abandoned by the young poet. Instead of perusing Justinian, he spent his time in writing verses; and the result was the publica. tion of Rinaldo before he had completed his eighteenth year. We cannot here trace minute. ly the remaining progress of his shifting and agitated history. His literary industry in the

Ladies, always delightful, and not the least so in their undress, are apt to deprive themselves of some of their best morning beams by appearing with their hair in papers. We give notice that essayists, and of course all people of taste, prefer a cap, if there must be any thing; but hair a midst of almost ceaseless distractions of all kinds million times over. To see grapes in paper bags was most extraordinary. His great poem, Geru. Nature having maintained a harmony between is bad enough, but the rich locks of a lady in pa. salemme Liberata, (Jerusalem Delivered,) is said the figure of woman and her years, it is decorous pers, the roots of the hair twisted up like a drumto have been begun in his nineteenth year. In that the consistency should extend to the materi-mer's, and the forehead staring bald instead of 1565, he first visited the court of Ferrara, hav. als and fashion of her apparel. For youth to being gracefully tendrilled and shadowed!-iting been carried thither by the Cardinal Luigi dress like age, is an instance of bad taste seldom is a capital offence-a defiance to the love and d'Este, the brother of the reigning Duke Al. But age affecting the airy garments of admiration of the other sex-a provocative to a phonso. This event gave a color to Tasso's fuyouth, the transparent Drapery of Cos, and the paper war; and we here accordingly declare the ture existence. It has been supposed that the sportiveness of a girl, is an anachronism as fre- said war on paper, not having ladies at hand to young poet allowed himself to form an attachquent as it is ridiculous. carry it at once into their head quarters.- ment to the princess Leonora, one of the two We must allow at the same time that they are sisters of the reigning Duke, and the object of very shy of being seen in this condition, know- his aspiring love was not insensible to that union ing well enough how much of their strength, like of eminent personal graces with the fascinations Sampson's, lies in that gifted ornament. We of genius which courted her regard. But there have known a whole parlor of them fluttered off, hangs a mystery over the story which has never like a dove cote, at the sight of a friend coming been cleared away. He remained at Ferraro the garden. till the completion and publication of his cele brated epic in 1575. He had already given to the world his beautiful pastoral drama, the A. minta, the next best known and most esteemed of his productions.

Virgin, bridal beauty, when she arrays herself with taste, obeys an end of her creation-that of increasing her charms in the eyes of some virtuous lover, or the husband of her bosom. She is approved. But, when the wrinkled fair, the hoary-headed matron, attempts to equip herself for conquest, to awaken sentiments which, the bloom on her cheek gone, her rouge can never arouse; then, we cannot but deride her folly, or in pity, counsel her rather to seek for charms, in the mental graces of Madame de Sevigne, than the meretricious arts of Ninon de l'Enclos. The secret of preserving beauty lies in three thin gs-Temperance, Exercise, Cleanliness.

up

CORSETS.

LEIGH HUNT.

While thousands fall by clashing swords
Ten thousands fall by corset boards,
Yet giddy females, thoughtless train,
Forsake of fashion yield to pain;
And health and comfort sacrifice
To please a dandy coxcomb's eyes.

From this period his life becomes a long course of storm and darkness, rarely relieved even by a fitful gleam of light. For several

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, impolled 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 return. 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."

DESULTORY SELECTIONS.

ANECDOTES OF DUELLING.

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. JR, 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 invita tion for dinner. Mrs. R. opened it, and imme diately replied to it as follows;

"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. MARY R."

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-pondence going on still, which began ten years some of them ladies-were sitting. The nearest man repelled him by force, and was after. the strangest vicissitudes of fortune. One day wards called upon, at Havre, to fight him for his

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
customs and opinions; but by the code of hon.
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
the first escapade, was somewhat surprised that
now Lady Brudenell. But his Lordship, after
he did not receive a challenge from the injured
husband, and he was so anxious to make
tion, that at last he wrote to offer it. His note

was worded as follows:

repara.

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
lone on the highway, with weary steps and emp-
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 re-
solved that the greatest living poet of Italy
should be crowned with the laurel in the impe-
rial 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 Se-
nate; but ere the day of triumph came, Tasso
was seized with an illness, which he instantly
felt would be mortal. At his own request he
was conveyed to the monastery of St. Onofrio,
the same retreat in which, twenty years before,
his father had breathed his last; and here he
patiently awaited what he firmly believed would
be the issue of his malady.. He expired in the
arms of Cardinal Cuitheo Alpobrandini, on the
25th of April, 1595, having just entered upon
his fifty-second year. The Cardinal had just
brought him the Pope's benediction, on receiv-planation; and this it is which accounts for
ing which he exclaimed, "This is the crown with
which I hope to be crowned, not as a poet in
the Capitol, but with the glory of the blest in

heaven."

Critics have differed widely in the estimation of the poetical genius of Tasso, some ranking the Jerusalem Delivered with the grandest productions of ancient or modern times, and others nearly denying it all claim to merit in that species of compositions of which it professed to be an example. Nothing certainly but the most morbid prejudice could have dictated Boileau's peevish allusion to "the tinsel of Tasso," as contrasted with "the gold of Virgil;" but although the former is one of surpassing grace and

"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."

The reply was this:

has proved herself a wretch, you have done me the
"MY LORD: In taking off my hands a woman who
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 circum-
stances."

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 corres

ago with a challenge. Mr. A., a bachelor, chal. lenged Mr. B., a married man with one child,

who replied that the conditions were not equal,
his life than the other, and he declined. A year
that he must necessarily put more at risk with
afterwards he received a challenge from Mr. A.,
who stated that he too had now a wife and child,
and he supposed therefore the objection of Mr.
B. was no longer valid. Mr. B. replied that he
now had two children-consequently, the ine-
quality 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 chal-
lenge yearly renewed.
[American Monthly Magazine.

THE ALPHABET OF REQUISITES FOR A WIFE.[By an Elderly Bachelor.]-A wife should be Amiable, affectionate, artless, affable, accom. plished; Beautiful, benign, benevolent; Chaste, table, civil, constant, Dutiful, dignified, elegant, charming, candid, cheerful, complacent, charicasy, engaging, entertaining; Faithful, fond, faultless, free; Good, graceful, generous, gov. ernable, good-humored, Handsome, harmless, The real cause of the most violent quarrels is healthy, heavenly-minded; Intelligent, interestvery often beyond the reach of evidence or ex-ing, industrious, ingenuous; Kind, lively, liberal, lovely; Modest, merciful, mannerly, Neat, noti. ble; Obedient, obliging; Pretty, pleasing, peaceable, pure; Righteous; Sociable, submis. sive, sensible; Temperate, true; Virtuous; Well-formed, and Young. When I meet with a woman possessed of all these requisites, I will marry!

permanent and moral differences breaking out
on a trivial pretext, which seems like nothing;
but is backed by old hatreds, indefinable slights,
rivalries, and hoarded animosities. The once
notorious Baron Von Hoffman challenged a man
for not inviting him to dinner-a cause not like-
ly to be avowed, but certainly it was the real
one. The Baron had lost his trunk in the riv.
er with all his letters of introduction, and con-
sequently, till more came, his standing was not
well ascertained. Some persons received him,
others denounced him; but this latter class the
Baron, if he could get at them, was always
ready to fight. He knew very well that the
ratio ultima regum, the logic of kings, was al-

The most costly book that was ever printed, was the Flora Brittannica, at the expense of John, Earl of Bute, (Wilkes' friend.) Only 7 copies were struck off, and the plates were then destroyed. The Earl presented a copy each to the King and Queen of England, the King and Queen of France, the Pope, the King of Sar. dinia, and kept one to himself.

PAGANINI'S FOURTH STRING.

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. I 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. This Scene' 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 composed for that string. As one keeps learning from day to day, so I gradually attained that proficiency,in which there ought now to be nothing astonishing."

HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF COACHES.

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.

hended under that name. This method of fight. Liverpool and Vansittart; Wellington took the
ing in chariots is very ancient: we have it no. towns of Cuidad, Rodrigo and Badajos, and won
ticed in Homer, and in the book of Exodus, and the battle of Salamanca; Spain abolished the
thence forward to the book of Kings and Chron-Peerage and the Inquisition, and proclaimed her
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
battle.

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
From the Romans and Saracens the nations Christians were armed for reciprocal carnage,
of Europe might learn to reject the use of chari. and all Europe and America were made slaugh.
ots in war (if they had not done it sooner,) for alter houses of the human race. It is supposed
most all the nations of Europe sent great armies that more than one million of men, women, and
against them to recover the Holy Land.
children were butchered or otherwise sacrificed
in that memorable year.

Coaches are again found in England in the days of Queen Elizabeth, when they were imported 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."

One remarkable fact concerning the increase of coaches among us, that it is computed that not less than 10,000 persons are daily on the road in stage coaches, in different parts of the kingdom; 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.

AN EVENTFUL YEAR.

[London Mirror.

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

A FAIR OFFER.

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 can. not 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 debts.

WONDERS OF CHEMISTRY.

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.

THE DEATH CLOCK.

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.

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