every lover (and who is not a lover in turn?) exalted in imagination his dulcinea to the rank of an acting angel; and when I took into account the high estimation in which the fair are universally held by the other sex, I could not but wonder that the "ornaments of creation" should embellish the temple of vice. But such was the fact: I saw numbers of females casting down their leaves with all the spite of disappointment, occasionally dying those cheeks with the crimson of indignation, which should never be suffused but with the blush of modesty.

At this moment the whole assembly rose to pay their vows to the genius of dissipation, and take a sip of the fountain of Lethe. Here was exhibited another scene of disgust -some scarcely stirred from the fountain :-some succeeded in getting a short distance: a part returned to their former places, and again began the worship of their favorite goddess. The young, to use a figure, skipped about with as buoyant hearts as ever floated on animal spirits; the middle aged came with a less accelerated pace; while the old, "with many a weary step, and many a groan," staggered back to their situations. Now joy and boisterous pleasure were depicted on every countenance. Impressions of former sorrows were obliterated-disappointments were forgotten, and all were ready to perform any thing in which their headstrong passions might prompt them to engage. Accordingly, they had not been long employed in worship, before contention arose, and half of the assembly was involved in a pugilistic battle. The females screamed-the old raised their staves to restore peace, -but all in vain. The contending parties would neither listen to the voice of female persuasion, nor obey the commands of gray-headed authority. The tumult, at first, thickened, then gradually died away. The combatants, weakened by intoxication, and worn out with fatigue, dropped off, one after another, and, some upon the benches, some upon the tables, and others upon the floor, all sunk to rest, enjoying the miseries of sleep in the disturbed dreams of guilty consciences. My curiosity was now fairly glutted; and I left the place almost willing to believe, that, under all circumstances,

"Vice, to be hated, needs but to be seen"

GENEROSITY. AN APOLOGUE.

Fies nobilium tu quoque.-HOT.

Generosity chiefly consists in doing good to our enemies; a truth, of which the following apologue may serve for an illustration.

A certain father of a family, a native of the east, being advanced in years, and desirous of settling his worldly affairs, divided his property between his three sons.

"Nothing now remains to me," said he to them, “but a diamond of great value: this I have determined to appropriate to whichsoever of you shall, within three months, perform the most noble, the most generous action."

The three sons departed from the presence of their father, and returned by the appointed time. When they presented themselves before their judge, the eldest began thus:

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Father," said he, during my absence I met with a stranger, so circumstanced that he was under a necessity of entrusting me with the whole of his fortune. He had no written security from me, nor could he possibly bring any evidence-any proof whatsoever, of the deposit; yet I faithfully returned him all. Was there not in this action something highly commendable?"

Thou hast done what it was incumbent on thee to do, my son," replied the old man; "he that could act otherwise would be unworthy to live; for honesty is a duty. Thy action is an action of justice, not of generosity."

After this the second son advanced :

"As I was travelling," said he, " I came to a lake, in which I beheld a child struggling with death; I plunged into it, and saved his life in the presence of a number of the neighbouring villagers, all of whom can attest the truth of what I

assert.

"It was well done,' interrupted the old man; " but still there was in thy exploit nothing of generosity; thou obeyedst only the dictates of humanity.

At length the youngest of the three came forward :—

"I happened," said he, " to meet with a man whom I knew to be my mortal enemy, and who, having bewildered himself in the dead of night, ha dunknowingly fallen asleep

upon the brink of a frightful precipice. The least motion would infallibly have plunged him headlong into a fathomless abyss; but, though his life was in my hands, I yet awakened him with the greatest possible precaution, and removed him from his danger."

"Ah! my son," exclaimed the venerable parent, with transport, "to thee belongs the diamond; well hast thou deserved it!"

THE BATTLE SONG OF LODBROG.

BY JAMES KNOX.

Regner Lodbrog was a king of Denmark, and lived in the eighth century; he was famous for his wars and victories, and was an eminent scalder, or poet.-Dr. Blair's Dissertation on the Poems of Ossian.

Give me my sword! Shall Odin's son
Beneath his foeman quail?
Shall he who leads the valiant on,

Himself in valor fail?

No, no! my spirit with delight

Awaits on battle's call,

And dearer is the bloody fight

To me than festival.

Unfurl

my

banner! When its folds

Are fluttering on the breeze,

Each chief shall feel, as he beholds,

His soul within him freeze.

For, rear'd on high, 'twill seem to him,
Astonish'd and dismay'd,

A token that his glory's dim,

And that his fame doth fade.

Assemble now, ye hawks of heaven!
Draw near, ye birds of prey!
For on the battle field is given
A feast to ye to-day.

A banquet of the blood of kings,
And flesh of mighty men ;
Then gather on your rapid wings,
And follow in my train!

THE POET'S FATE.

BY MISS JEWSBERY, AUTHORESS OF

PHANTASMAGORIA," &c.

We poets in our youth begin in gladness
But thereof comes in the end, despondency and madness.

Wordsworth.

What is the poet's fate?-In life's young spring
His soul expandeth like a flow'r in the sun;
Smiling and smiled on by each living thing,
As though it ne'er would be a withered one.
Or, like a bird in its first flight to heaven

Giving forth music with a spendthrift's joy,
As though such precious stores of both were given,
That joy could never change; or music never cloy.
Awhile, a little while, and then depart

His fond imaginings, and inward gladness;
Feelings that twined like flowers around his heart
Are plucked by time, or trodden down by sadness.
Ambition tempts him with its fierce frail joy,
Scorning the world, he trembles for its favor,
And now a tyrant, and again a toy,

Its choicest nectar hath a wormwood savor. 'Tis his, to travel in some kingly hour

With sun-like strength to inspiration's goal;
To claim mankind of every clime his dower,
His range, the universe ;-his home, the soul!
'Tis his-to fall from inspiration's heaven,

And feel the wretchedness that hath no name;-
His-to be often blamed-less oft forgiven;

His-frequent penury, and not seldom shame :His fierce extremes of glory and of gloom, Perchance an early fame, but oft-an earlier tomb?

THE REASON WHY WOMEN ARE WITHOUT BEARDS.

How wisely Nature ordering all below,

Forbad a beard on woman's chin to grow;
For how could she be shav'd, whate'er the skill,
Whose tongue would never let her chin be still?

THE WANDERING JEW.

SALATHIEL AMONG THE ANTIQUES.

I am emboldened to offer the following authentic anecdotes to the public, because I know that the most trivial circumstances relative to extrordinary persons are highly gratifying to this biography-mad age. Since the publication of the Rev. Mr. Croly's Salathiel," that singular personage, commonly known as the Wandering Jew, has excited great general interest, and therefore I make no further apology for communicating to the world what I know about him.

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I was well acquainted with Salathiel, some time ago, in Italy, and a very pleasant fellow he was; not grave and melancholy, as Croly, who evidently never saw him, would have us believe; but a shrewd, jolly dog, who, having no settled income, but living by his wits, would make himself vastly agreeable at a dinner party, in hopes of getting invited a second time; for, owing to his roving disposition, the poor fellow had well exemplified the truth of the adage, which says, that a rolling stone gathers no moss." It was very necessary, also, for his acquaintance to guard against the consequences of one very bad propensity of Salathiel's, which was that of borrowing money; for having, as I said before, nothing to live upon, he was very apt to inquire whether one had a spare ten pounds about one; and then, cursed as he was with a wandering spirit, he would be off the next morning, heaven only knows where, and never return to the same place till his creditors were dead, and gone to the third and fourth generation. But this by the way.

At a time when many curiosities were brought into the Neapolitan Museum from the ruins of Pompeii and Herculaneum, I was unwilling to lose the opportunity afforded me of visiting them and the other antiques, in company with a person so capable of elucidating those antiquities, which, at one period of his existence, were his cotemporaries. Accordingly, I prevailed on him to go with me to see the collection; and here I must warn the directors of all such establishments, if they have the least regard for the character of their medals, marbles, and inscriptions, to be very careful how they admit Salathiel; for he plays the very devil with antiquity, and is