to him than would have been the possession beautiful-a perfect gem, and that all favors of worlds. O, ye thoughtless and unreflect- of a similar character will meet with a weling ones, who would derogate from the lonely come and hearty reception Shortly after poet's happiness by endeavoring to convince this interesting era in your literary career, him that he is born to sorrow, and to mourn you will receive a missive from the object of for the unattainable, who say that there is an your intense admiration, acquainting you that aching void in his bosom which nothing she has seen the poem dedicated to her, that earthly can satisfy, how little do ye know of she thinks nothing could be prettier, or more the joy that leaps up from the inmost recesses appropriate-nothing could please her more, of his heart, when he has finished an effusion and considers it well done! The lines which follow are those composed by Moses, and are they not beautiful? SAPHRONIA. What a thrill of extatic delight Swept over the strings of my heart, When beholding your beauties so bright, And feeling the glow they impart! The first time I gazed on your beauty, I was in the sweet prime of my youth, And when I was doing my dutyExtracting your long-decayed tooth! Saphronia! your eyes are as bright As the gems from the mines of Peru, Or the stars on a moonshiny night, When the sky is unclouded and blue! And your cheeks are as pretty and red As the roses that scent the soft gale, Which fragrance exquisite do shed, So delightful for us to inhale! And your voice is as rich in its tone, Are not sweeter than your gentle looks. Oh, when shall I see you again, And drink in the light of your eyes? My bosom till then will know pain, Afar from its true paradise! MOSES. that she reciprocates all the kind and friendly feelings which you cherish for her, and that she desires an interview may be had as speedily as possible. This interview will be immediately brought about and accomplished, the gordiant knot will soon be tied, and, as a matter of course, your perfect and endless felicity will be consummated!" The angel of dreams wrapt her snowy, flowing robes about her gentle form, and disappeared. But, alas! how very often are we doomed to disappointment! How often is the sunny brightness of our ardent and aspiring daydreams overshadowed by some dark and threatning cloud! The Mudville paper was published the next week, as usual, and Moses obtained a copy at an early hour. He saw his lines occupying the poet's corner, but so anxious was he that his adored should see and read them, that he folded the paper, inclosed it in three wrappers of beautiful pink paper, tied it with a piece of white satin ribbon, and had it conveyed to her with all imaginable despatch, without even looking at it himself to see that every thing was as it should be. The paper was accompanied by a short note, in which he politely requested her to accept the poem which he had taken the liberty of inscribing to her as a slight token of his inexpressible love and affection. The bearer of this most delectable epistle knocked at the door of the mansion of the young lady, which was soon opened by her own sweet self. Is the lady Saphronia at home?" asked the unsuspecting messenger. This delightful effusion was carefully copied on a clean sheet of smooth white paper, folded, sealed, and directed to the Editor of "She is that is my name," replied the the Mudville Journal, before Moses sought beautiful maiden, receiving the note and that repose which his wearied and exhausted package in a very lady-like manner. She frame, and unduly excited mind so much then carefully removed the wrappers from demanded. Very pleasant and delicious were the paper and opened it, when her eyes rested the dreams that haunted his pillow that night. on the verses referred to in the note. Her He was visited by the angel of dreams, who countenance, while reading, wore an undiscoursed to him in the following wise:- wonted aspect, alternately assuming an ashy "Your article will occupy a conspicuous paleness, and a deep crimson. And it was place in the aforementioned literary journal, with strong effort that she refrained from and after you shall have read it over several giving expressions to her wounded and highly times, and sufficiently admired its beauties indignant feelings. What these feelings in print,' you will perceive an editorial may have been, the writer is unable to say. commendatory, announcing to its numerous It is reasonable to suppose, however, that patrons and readers, that the Editor is exceed-they were such as any young lady would ingly happy to introduce them to a new cor- have harbored in like circumstances. She respondent-that he thinks your lines are silently returned the articles delivered to her by the messenger, and pointed to the door with an air which his quick comprehension led him to consider as equivalent to an injunction to leave her presence as soon as might best suit his convenience, or he would soon subject himself to her irrepressible displeasure. This unexpressed, but sufficiently explicit and significant command he obeyed without waiting to have it repeated. Moses was very much surprised, when informed that the lady had refused to accept his poem-that poem which had cost him so much mental toil and labor, and which he fondly hoped would win for him enduring fame. It was an event so very different from that which he expected would happen, that he could not resist the conviction that there must have been some unaccountable mistake on his, or some misunderstanding on her part. So, to satisfy his mind on this point, he examined the verses himself, and found that they were as follows: golden illusions." Moses learned this solemn fact by bitter experience. For had not all his secretly cherished hopes of renown and happiness been nipped in the bud? And had not all the splendid castles which he had built in fairy-land for his own personal accommodation and pleasure been demolished by one fell arrow from the bow of disappointment? Utica, N. Y. RISING IN THE WORLD.-It is well there should be the strongest desire of rising in the world. But what is rising?-Here is all the difficulty. Is it for the prosperous man to move into a bigger house, and patronise the tailors, milliners, and the upholsterers, and give splendid entertainments? This may be perfectly allowable and proper as the reward and natural consequences of industry, and frugality, but it is not rising in the world.It amounts to nothing but simply patronising tailors, milliners, upholsterers, and cooks.The only way to rise in the world, even for the prosperous man, is to cultivate his mind, manners, and educate his family. It is not to set up his carriage, though this may be perfectly allowable if he can afford it. It is not to resort to this or that watering place, You are shrivelled, and faded 's the beauty though there is no objection to his doing that, That shone in the prime of your youth;mily in the scale of moral and intellectual if he pleases. It is to raise himself and faE'en now you begin to look sooty, SO FAR AWAY. Your looks are enough to affright Any thing in the shape of a heart, And despoil every thrill of delight With a sort of a troublesome dart. Not excepting your long-decayed tooth. And reflect as much radiance too, Your looks are as portly and red, As a rose is when blown by the gale, With its leaflets bestrewing the vale! Oh! how long will this vision remain, Come to dim the soft light of my eyes! beings. It is not to bring up his sons in idleness under the preposterous notion of making them gentlemen, and in so doing make them fops and dandies instead of men, and thus prepare them for squandering his estate much faster than he amassed it. It is not to educate his daughter with merely showy accomplishments, and with the expectation that this world is to be a show and life a holiday. The best symptoms of rising in the world that he can give, is to despise the follies of American society, to set at naught the despotism of foreign fashions, to perceive and resist the absurdity of a business community following in the footsteps of the idle and worthless aristocracy of Europe. It would show hopeful signs of rising above the vulgar, both great and small, if he should refuse to countenance the nonsense of turning night into day, and day into night; and as the end of society is enjoyment, he should perceive the ridiculousness of going to a party of pleasure at his usual hour of retiring to rest. Appended to the poem were a few lines by the Editor, informing the aspiring follower of the muses, that his manuscript was too It would show that he was rising if he illegible to be correctly deciphered by the should bring up his sons to some useful, honprinter; that it was so obscure in some places orable, and profitable employment, and save that he was obliged to guess at its meaning, them from the degradation of living to show but that under all the circumstances, he had off their persons in fine clothes in the streets. done the best he could with it. This ex-If he should infuse into the minds of his daughplained the mystery, and cleared up the fog ters a strong tincture of common sense, and which obstructed the mental vision. teach them to look on life as a scene of ele "That malicious power which lies in am-vated duty and responsibility, instead of an bush for our destruction, delights to lull its opportunity for the indulgence of ambition, chosen victim asleep with sweet songs, and vanity, and selfishness. THE LADIES' GARLAND. Written for the Ladies' Garland. AUNT TEMPLE, A STORY FOR A BRIDE. Its aim to point out the safest and surest way to Domestic Happiness. BY JOHN MOFFATT. ""Tis education forms the common mind; "WELCOME, Fanny! that smooth young||and as I hope you will give us a practical ilface, ever radiant with the sunshine of the lustration of domestic happiness in your own soul, makes you still a welcome visitor.-little world, as a dutiful and affectionate wife, How fares all the good people at Blooms- I will, as far as the truth admits, endeavor to ville?" make it useful to you." "All well, Aunt Temple ;-for so I must call you, though the only tie that binds us springs from what the poet calls the mysterious cement of the soul;' the good people are all well, and getting along with a tolerable degree of comfort in these troublous times." "It is the part of true wisdom to make the best it can of bad circumstances. Time rolls on-the tide ebbs and flows as it did from the beginning-people die and depart, and leave room for others to act their parts in the great drama of existence; and eating, and drinking, and marrying, and giving away in marriage is just as much in vogue now, as in the times before the flood. Now, Fanny, I wish you much joy when about to enter the matrimonial state with Harry Mortimer." "Thank you, my good aunt; I know too well the warmth of your friendship, to doubt of your candor, or the purity of the motives by which you are actuated." 66 'Though the act of looking back has been always painful to me, it has, in no instance, been unproductive of good, when attended to in a proper spirit, and from a laudable motive. At an early period of life, it was my misfortune to lose both of my parents, and thus I was left in the wide world, a frail, helpless thing, though not without friends, or funds competent to rear and educate me in a proper manner, if rightly applied. "Those who had me in charge, sent me to reside under the roof of a newly married pair, relations of mine, by-the-by; and young as I was, I recollect it struck me very forcibly that they were not happy in each others' "Who told you so, aunt? I thought to be the first bearer of this piece of news; but some courier, inore swift of foot, has forestall-company. Being naturally of an inquisitive ed me." disposition, I set about finding out the cause, "Ah! Fanny, us matrons take a deep inter-|| or causes, of this, in the best manner I could, est in these matters; and while the lamp of life continues to burn, we retain the faculty of scenting out 'matches,' though they may be made up in a corner."" "Well, aunt, as I am about to turn over and commence a new page on the book of life, I bethink me of reminding you of your promise." and shall now give you the result of my enquiries, as far as recollected-giving you to understand that the Miss Lucy Glenville, of whom I am about to speak, was destined to fill up the place of a mother to me. "I learned that Lucy was a sweet, gifted creature in the hey-day of her existence-one who, by proper training, might have become "Aye, that story.. Well you shall hear it, an ornament of society, a blessing to herself, VOL. 6. No. 11.-MAY, 1843. 329 and a source of honest pride to all connected with her. Yes, Lucy might have been all this; but unfortunately her father was a weak, silly-minded man, and her mother an aspiring, proud, ambitious woman; one who despised the sage maxim of Solomon-Train up a child in the way he should go,' so far as to make this child an object of fond idolatry. "The homage blindly lavished on Lucy, was not in keeping with the dictates of common sense or reason, and hence, while it hurt its object, it was in a corresponding degree in jurious to the rest of the family. Yes, Fanny, this partial, one-sided sort of action manifested itself on all occasions by a most unjust division of maternal affection, which was of right the common, and should have been the equal property of all the family. Lucy was indeed the fairest creature of the group, in point of face and form; but she was as. prone to error, and rather more so, than her less comely sisters. This the old lady would not admit; for, alas! like all other fond mammas, culpably fond ones, I mean, her eyes were so effectually blinded, that she could not see, or would not, which amounts to the same thing, aught amiss in any thing the little darling said or did. In relation to the other branches of the family, the conduct of the paternal pair was of a different cast.Their errors, faults, and blemishes were seen, and punished with an unsparing hand, in the presence of the little favorite, who soon began to form very arrogant notions of her own dear little self. In fact, the young creature's brain was turned topsy-turvy with pernicious conceits; one of which was, that she was a very superior kind of being to her sisters, and, though I dare say the only reason that she could give for this vagarish fancy was that her parents idolized her, she scrupled not to follow the bent thus given to her nature, by exacting more homage from her sisters than they would tamely render beyond the parental eye, and the reach of the rod. Hence arose contests and little skirmishes for the mastery, and though in all of these Lucy was still in the minority, it is needless to say that the balance still turned in her favor; for, when she had ineffectually exhausted her own little resources of stamping with her little foot, shaking her little white hand, and using her little tongue like an embryo termagant, she had only to trump up a little story of her wrongs to enlist the aid of her weak, erring parents, who frequently flogged the other little ones for sins against order and decorum, which originated and were committed chiefly through the agency of pretty Miss Lucy. Strange as it may seem to the eye of common sense, these ill-judging people flattered each other into the belief, that the pert, forward, assuming demeanor of the little favorite, gave sure indications of a lofty spirit, which would one day lead its possessor to respect and consideration in the great world without, as it had unquestionably done in the little world at home. Thus Lucy grew up very beautiful to look upon; but, alas, she was a spoiled child, and her parents had proved by their conduct how utterly unworthy they were of such a precious charge. Pride, vanity, ambition, and false sentiments respecting herself and her relation to society, rankled luxuriantly in her bosom, and to make the matter worse she was equally devoid of true and proper affection for her parents, and those who had descended from the same stock. Thus unaccomplished, she was sent to be accomplished by what is called a genteel, fashionable education. "I differ very widely from a certain class of people on the subject of education, Fanny. Those in charge of schools, academies, and other seminaries of learning, may, in my opinion, act their parts well; but if the parents overlook, or neglect to discharge their duties at the fireside, the most costly education will only have a tendency to polish the exterior of vice, or make pride and vanity more insufferable. My ground for this opinion is, that nature by an irrevocable decree hath made the mother the first preceptor of her offspring; and hence the early impressions stamped on the young mind under the domestic roof, have a decided influence in the formation of future character. "The Glenville family acted according to the opinions of those who think that an expensive education would atone for every deficiency, and in due time bring forth their darling child like gold seven times purified,' from the boarding-school. The result was, that Lucy formed a slight acquaintance with French and Latin, too slight indeed to be of any utility to her in carrying on the great business of life more properly than those who were ignorant of such acquirements. Slender, however, as her knowledge was, it failed not to acquire for her the character of a talented and learned young lady amongst those who were still more superficial scholars than herself; for she had likewise made some proficiency in drawing, painting, and embroidering, and could play tolerably well on the pianoforte. "All of these may be subservient to good, Fanny, and therefore I will not attempt to despise nor undervalue them; but in the present instance, this was not the case, for Lucy knew nothing of the stern realities of life, but fluttered about like a gaudy butterfly, from flower to flower, in search of something new.' On the whole, her education had made her a more agreeable person to the eye, for she had learned to wear the sem- creations of fancy, as they are called, not blance of modesty and good nature-qualities only from the possibility of your being puffwhich are often above par with the lords of ed up' on account of having a comely, intelcreation,' and hence the obsequeous beaux flocked to her standard, and called her a paragon of perfection! a divine creature! an angel!-nay, some of the coxcombs went so far as to flatter her shadow, for she was very handsome. "Elated with Lucy's flattering reception in the world of fashion, the Glenvilles looked forward with hope to the happy period when a match with some man of rank, influence, and fortune would elevate the beloved scion to that eminence in society, which, in their opinion, she so well merited. To conduce to this end, and likewise to give credence to the notion that they were wealthy people, their entertainments and parties were graduated on a magnificent scale; while, according to old use and wont,' there was no lack of guests to do the right thing to the dainty dishes, choice viands, delicious fruits, and costly wines that sparkled on the festive board. Lucy, richly attired and redolent with the charms of youth, diffused life, light, and animation around, and won the easy expressed admiration of all the banquetters.None of these, however, manifested a disposition to come to close quarters on the grand subject of matrimony, and this was to the old folks a very perplexing consideration;-the more so, as love, which in common cases impairs people's appetites, had apparently sharpened them in the young gentlemen in the present instance, to an unpleasant degree. 66 6 · ligent, and well arranged set of features, and a person nicely formed by the master-hand of nature, but chiefly because the tendency of these beautiful creations,' are to convey to mortals, naturally prone to idolatry, the idea that there were other objects than the Great Supreme, worthy of that veneration and those ascriptions of praise due to him alone from all his intelligent offspring. "The passion enkindled in the bosom by beauty alone, is intense, ardent, and full of flame, while it lasts; but as it has no affinity with reason, it exacts too much, and receives too little to keep it in trim, or rather out of trim; and hence it frequently wanes and dies away, ere the charms which gave it birth feel the withering influence of the breath of time. "How different it is with that chaste, sober, and pure affection called into being, and nourished and matured by the more enduring charms of mental and moral excellence.Personal beauty fades like a flower, or withers like the autumn leaf; but the beauty of virtue and moral goodness is of celestial origin, and hence it is indestructible-being transmitted from race to race, to fashion mortals for a better order of being, where virtue and beauty shall be united forever. "But to my story. At length Lucy discovered one who seemed disposed to propose. Edmund Fitzmaurice, who claimed to be a full-blooded Englishman, was at all events full of national prejudices and national pride. He was, according to common speech, of a good family, though not an ancient one, for their elevation to respect and consideration was but of recent date, if I am rightly informed, and I have no occasion to think otherwise. Like the stiff, tory faction with whom he herded in politics, he talked away about the dignity and excellency of religion, as by law established, but cared not to hear a sermon on the common origin of man, nor to trace his descent beyond that certain speck of the past eternity,' when one of his ancestors, by political intrigue and manœuvring, brought himself into repute with the powers who swayed the helm of government, whose province it is to make weak and wicked men great, noble, and honorable. 'Why don't the gentlemen propose?' muttered the old man, and I wonder why they don't propose?' chimed in the old woman, since Lucy is so very accomplished, and so very beautiful.' Lucy thought so, too; but I dare say the greater part of the knaves who devoured the good things,' contented themselves with ruminating on the old adage -'Fools make feasts for wise people to eat.' "A correct knowledge of human nature, my dear Fanny, enables one to form just and rational conceptions of things that are generally prized far beyond their value, by those who have not this knowledge, or abuse it to promote selfish and sinister ends. Novelists and tale writers have offered up a quantum sufficit of incense on the altar of beauty, to make it as dangerous a commodity as the "Ah! me, Fanny, how weak and ridicuhousehold gods of the young man, of whom lous do men make themselves by these fanwe read in the scriptures; and venal bards tastic notions. How comes it that they never have made liberal contributions toward ma-think of tracing their descent back to the king vanity more vain, and implanting this first pair, when Adam delved and Eve spun.' unseemly thing, where it was not, in the bo- This foolish pride unfits a man for wise and som of many a female, who might otherwise well ordered conduct, both as regards his own have been useful in her day and generation. interest, and the respect due to his fellow "I have taught you, Fanny, and not inef-creatures, and should therefore be discarded fectually either, to beware of these beautiful" without parley or preamble, from the bosom |