their feet on the fender. If you sing they are the first to talk, and whatever you say, they love to contradict. They call politeness, hypocrisy and dignify rudeness by the appellation of sincerity. From such old bachelors, good fortune shield me!-they are the very brambles of society. There are some exceptions, however; Sir James did not appear to be one of this class; if there had been bitterness it was past, and the lip appeared to have forgotten its scornful curl: there was a harp near his chair, some loose music, a portfolio, and a drawing-stand; a little white spaniel nestled close to his footstool, and a small bouquet of rare flowers refreshed the old gentleman by their perfume. After calmly gazing upon the departing sun, he rang a little silver bell, and alinost on the instant a young girl of mild and tranquil beauty was at his side; she was, indeed, lovely to look upon, particularly to those who prize the gentle light of a soft blue eye, which so truly tells of constancy and tenderness; her figure was pliant as a willow wand, her silken silvery hair curled around her white and slender throat, and imparted warmth and beauty to her delicate cheek; there was a dove-like simplicity in her whole deportment, and purity sat upon her brow. "My own Emily," said the old gentleman, "did you think my summons long delayed, or did it come too soon?" "I was with my brother and--and his friend, sir; your summons to me is always happiness." "Thank you, my own girl, thanks; I wanted to speak, Emma, on a matter of much moment to you, and to me also, because I love youbless you, child, can't you stand still, and let the dog alone?-don't fidget so-there's a colour! Why, you little violet, you surely have not been deceiving me, and known all about it before I thought proper to tell you?————No answer?" "No, sir-yes, sir-I don't know, sir." "No, sir-yes, sir-I don't know, sir!-Emily, you never told me a falsehood-do not begin now to do as others do,' and deceive your old guardian." "Deceive you, mine own uncle, my more than father! Why, O why should you suspect me?" and tears filled her eyes as her blushes deepened. No, Emmy, no love, I believe you have not; but, hang it, all women have a kind of second sight in love matters-I dare say, now you have a kind of a sort of an idea that your brother's friend, as you call him, has an affection for you-eh, Emmy?" mother, Emily, was gifted with an angel's form; but her mind remained uncultivated, while accomplishments were heaped upon her without taste or judgment. She, too, was sa crificed upon the same shrine; but she wanted her mother's strength of mind. Her husband had but one maxim in common with herselfTo do as others do;'-how I do hate that little sentence" continued the old man, with strong acrimony and emotion; "it has caused," he continued, "the ruin of thousands. At that time our princes were jockeys, and Lord Morton, whose head was never cool, had the honour of losing thousands to the highest in the, land-he did as others did; and in three years, -poor fellow!-he died of a broken heart, and almost a beggar. Your mother, from following the same plan, assisted in the destruction of their ample fortune. No parties were so gay -no woman so much admired, or consequently so much flattered, as Lady Emily Morton; but the fashionables, true to their maxim also, did as others did, left the ruined widow to her solitude; and her creditors, who also pursued the same plan, seized upon every thing, even the couch on which she lay, with you, a newborn infant, on her bosom. Her parents were dead, and she was too proud to accept assistance; though, to confess the truth, I believe she was not much troubled by the benevolent feelings of others. She had always plagued me sadly, laughed at my failings, and ridiculed my peculiarities; but an English heart beat in my bosom, and I went up to town determined to bring her and hers to my house. I shall never forget it; your brother was sent home from the fashionable school to which he had been consigned, and, with the thoughtlessness of childhood, was playing about the room, gay and cheerful as a mountain lark. She was laying on an old sofa, and her pale cheek and sunken eye spoke of the end of mortal suffering; her spirits were gone, her heart was indeed broken. She withdrew the shawl that covered you, and my heart yearned towards you, Emily, as if you had been mine own-in a very unbachelor like way I stooped to kiss you. 'Save them, make them unlike their parents,' exclaimed your poor mother, as she endeavoured to raise you to me:-that effort was her last; she fell back and expired." Emily sobbed bitterly; and, truth to say, the old gentleman let fall-no, not fall, for he prevented it-but tears certainly escaped from his eyes. My own dear child,” continued he, "it is not to pain you that I speak thus, but to warn you against the remotest danger of doing as others do.' It was a troublesome legacy, "I hope-I hardly know, sir-" "Honour bright, young lady. In the green-though, to an old fellow like me-a romping house, when I saw him pulling some of my finest exotics, what said he to you then?" "He was only forming and explaining an oriental letter-love letter, sir," replied the maiden, at the same time hiding her face in the damask pillow of her uncle's chair. But where are the flowers?-you did not throw them away!" "Oh, no, no, no, how could I, uncle? they were so beautiful! Shall I fetch them? they are in the alabaster vase you gave me, and that I love so dearly." He boy and a squalling baby; but I bless God for it now it saved me from the selfishness of old age, gave me something to love and to think of besides gout and lumbago. Your brother, I trust, will be an ornament to human nature, for he does not do as others do. has travelled to gain information, not eclat; he has entered the sacred profession, not because his uncle has a rich living in his gift, but because his mind is imbued with gospel truth, and he is anxious to do good; he has chosen his friend, not because of his rank or talent, The old man smiled, shook his head, moved although he is distinguished by both, but behis foot; and the young girl seated herself on cause he is a CHRISTIAN-and, consequently, the little Ottoman; he laid his hand on her must be a good son, a kind landlord, a firm glossy hair, and replied-" Mind not the flow-friend, and, in due time, an affectionate huscrs now, love, but attend to the wisdom which seventy years and more have taught to one who has not been a listless observer of passing events. I remember well when my sister, your grandmother, married. She was very young, and very beautiful-perhaps more majestic than beautiful. She was ambitious, and rarried for gold and rank. She never complained of unhappiness; but I saw it in her altered eye, heard it in her altered voice, and both blamed and pitied. At that time I had my own trials too:-but buried loves are like faded flowers-only interesting to those who treasure liem as memorials of by-gone days. Your band. I suspect the oriental flowers, Emmy, have spoken of love: and so would I have it, girl;-he is one who will never follow the opinion of fools; and to you, dearest, he will be a safe guiding-star, protecting you through the thorny path of the dangerous world' upon which you soon must enter; for you cannot be always an old man's darling. And now, child, you may fetch the flowers; they told your secret;-they were dear; and you put them in the vase you loved so dearly. Yes, yes, I can remember,-bless, bless you my own child!" continued the venerable man, folding his arms affectionately round his adopt ed, "thank God, though I am an old bachelor, I have trained up two creatures for immortality who will not 'DO AS OTHERS DO."" SONG. "WHERE are the flowers of the wild wood?- For ever!-Oh, Heaven! for ever! (Echo.) Oh! never!" Varieties. Moths. These little insects, whose ravages are every where seen with regret, by all notable house-keepers, are deserving of more attention than they generally seem to excite. That in their labours they are so little noticed, may partly arise from their operating chiefly in darkness; for, as if modestly retiring from observation, they work with the greatest energy when secured from the interruption of light. In their attacks also they may be observed, not to commence their devastations on the outer part of the article, where they are situate, but they bury themselves closely in the skin, if fur, or web, if cloth; and then, working away under cover, it is only when their ravages have become considerable, that the upper structure falls off, and discovers to view the well conducted industry of these minute enemies. Nor is it for food alone that such havoc is made in our wardrobes: these little depredators must construct for themselves a covering and a nest, for which, and the after alterations of which, more materials are destroyed than would suffice each insect during its short life for food, as it is only during the caterpillar state that it seems to require its ordinary sustenance. After arriving at its full growth, it quits (like the silk worm and other species,) the immediate scene of its previous existence, and retires to some crevice or corner to await its change into a state of chrysalis, in which it remains nearly three weeks before it finally assumes the appearance of the finely-winged moth, under which form it is most familiar to us. Essential oils, and many substances of very pungent odour, have the effect of destroying these moths, as if by suffocation;--for this purpose nothing more is necessary than to introduce into their haunts any such substance as camphor, cajeput, turpentine, &c.; and it is with this view, that persons strew their drawers with spices and strong smelling flowers, and, under most circumstances thus effectually prevent the violence of their ravages. Salt versus Snow.-During the late severe weather, the attention of the public has been directed by some of the journals to the expediency of strewing the door-ways and paths with salt, to facilitate the removal of the ice and snow, and to prevent their becoming frozen and dangerous. The propriety of this application has, on the other hand, been strongly impugned, and even denied, by some, who have founded their counter-statement on the circumstance that salt and snow, when intimately blended together, form a frigorific mixture capable of freezing water, and reducing the temperature of any fluid immersed in it very considerably. In so doing, however, it becomes, itself, a semi-fluid, absorbing the caloric of the newly-frozen body, and thus becoming a saline solution, which subsequently can only be frozen by very intense cold. The only objection to such an application of salt lies in its prevention 152 PHILADELPHIA PORT FOLIO: A WEEKLY JOURNAL. of quick evaporation, thereby keeping the place to which it has been applied continually damp, until it shall have been thoroughly washed off. It is on this principle, that salt river water has been recommended for watering the roads immediately contiguous during the summer time, as, from such watering, they would retain something like humidity, when others were quickly dry and dusty. • History and Geology mutually confirmatory. -In the first of a course of Lectures on the Natural Sciences, recently commenced at Paris in the College de France, by M. Cuvier, that learned naturalist took occasion to remark on the tendency of history and geology to confirm each other. While the traditions of every country (he observed,) have preserved the memory of a great catastrophe, which changed the whole surface of the globe, and destroyed the human race almost to a man,-geology teaches us, that of the various revolutions which have taken place in the matter which forms the world, the last corresponds with sufficient nicety with the period assigned to the deluge. The date of this great event is to be fixed, (continues M. Cuvier,) with tolerable precision, on purely geological considerations, in the following manner: There are certain formations which would necessarily have commenced immediately after the last great change on the earth's surface, and which, from that moment to our days, have continued with great regularity. Of this kind are the accumulations of earth at the mouths of riversthe slopes existing at the foot of mountains, and which are formed of fragments fallen from the summits. These respective deposits receive an annual augmentation, the quantity of which may be ascertained by observation. There is, consequently, no difficulty in calculating the time necessary for them to acquire the dimensions which they are observed to be of at present. Calculations to that effect have been made with regard to the deposits at the foot of mountains, and give a result of from five to six thousand years. The same calculation being made as to the deposits at the mouths of rivers, gives the same number of years. churchwarden were talking of the dissolute- practitioner, lately residing at Croydon, was The Drunkard and the Sot,-the Glutton and being, the current of whose life is reduced to a project, are forgotten in this single and beastly propensity: every duty is sacrificed; every obed to its gratification. ligation is slighted; every affection surrender He drinks for the sake of the stimutation is at an end. You see him then with lus, and seems scarcely to live when the excicrawling along the earth, or standing still with blood-shot eyes, and mean and trailing pace, his limbs hanging about him like those of a pateboard Merry Andrew, when the child has Scotchmen in London.-" Mr. Murray, who ceased to pull its string. All his sober moments was the London publisher of the Edinburgh Maare employed in efforts to appease the anger of gazine and Review, was a very respectable and those friends whom he has offended in his eminent bookseller in Fleet-street, London; maudlin fits. He takes indignities with pawhere he succeeded to the business of Mr. tience-not the patience of a Christian but that Millan, a Scotsman, who, to accommodate in his heart, while he crouches to him in apof a coward; a coward who murders his friend himself to the prejudices of the English, (for-pearance. Every feeling, every care, every merly strong against the Scots) changed his original name of Mac Millan, by dropping the patronymic Mac, signifying clan of. Macklin, the famous comedian, who was an Irishman, had, in a somewhat similar manner, changed his name of M'Lane to Macklin; and Almack, a Scotchman, well known at the fashionable end of the town, by keeping a famous subscription house in Pall Mall nearly opposite the Palace of St. James's, altered his name from M'Caul. The original name of Mr. John Murray was Mac Murray, under which name he served his country for several years as an officer of marines; and being reduced upon half-pay at the close of the war, which ended in 1763, he purchased the stock in trade and good-will of Mr. Millan, then lately deceased, and imitated him in dropping the northern Mac. He was succeeded in business at his death by his son, the present Mr. John Murray, who now carries on the bookselling business extensively in the same shop in Fleetstreet."-Smellie's Mem. by Kerr. When Mr. Murray removed to Albemarlestreet, he disposed of his shop, No. 32 Fleetstreet, to the late Mr. Thomas Underwood, also a Scotsman, whose brother now continues the business. If not the oldest book-shop in London, it is very nearly upon the site of the oldest; Wynkin de Worde having occupied the premises about this very spot, some three hundred years ago. The sot is a sensualist of another order, different in appearance and different in characlead-coloured complexion and stupid sleepy ter. He is a huge bloated creature, with a eyes, into which no human excitement can infuse a spark of fire or intelligence. His drink is ale, or some heavy malt liquor, which will gradually stupefy and beget a dull oblivion, without at any time wholly depriving him of consciousness. The drunkard acts as if his brains were converted into fire; the sot would lead you to believe that his cranium contained gulps down his coarse draught for the sake of a huge lump of mud. He smokes his pipe and the sedative, not like the drunkard in pursuit of stimulus. But both are nothing better than the brute. "Yet why should I libel the poor brutes by such a comparison? It is a shame to call a man a beast, when he puts on a character Linnæan system would assume. Poor sinless which no well-regulated animals in the whole things! I wrong you vilely, when I class you with the glutton and the drunkard. Who ever creatures, or a hog with a carbuncled probossaw a horse with a paunch like some human cis? What dog, unless a dog tutored by man, would surfeit himself on made-dishes, like an epicure, and turn up his nose at plain beef or mutton? Who talks of intemperance in a pig. stye? What if the poor hog does love a roll in the mire, and eats his pease at the rate of a quart to the mouthful, still it is a sober beast, and fulfils its part in the system of the universal harmony. It would blush, if a hog could blush, to neglect its little squeaking family for the best trough of pease, or the vilest slough that ever tempted him. It is egregious flattery to call a drunkard or a glutton a beast. The glutton, whose passion regards the quantity of his diet, is a hideous creature. To capacious as a post-bag. He envies his horse please himself he would have his stomach as ging at a rack full of hay. He emulates the when he enters the stable, and sees him tugquadruped, and goes on dilating like the frog in Esop, till he is ready to explode from plethora. An apoplectic stroke, in general, concludes his feast, and sends him straight from the table to his tomb. The epicure is a daintier sinner. He prides eating, which only proves him to be the more himself on a degree of imaginative delicacy in thorough sensualist. The glutton is only devoted in body to the passion, his mind is suffered to stagnate or run wild as it pleases. But the epicure brings both into play. He makes his intellect subservient to the uses of the pasappetite. Who would not suppose that the folsion, and debases the lofty faculties of his eternal nature to the service of a mean and selfish lowing passage from a fragment of Plato's comedies, had been written for the benefit of those philosophers Upon the choice bits of a savoury carp, wisely ordained that the means of their subNature, having denied reason to the brutes, sistence should be thinly scattered over the earth, and that they should seldom find food in masses sufficiently abundant to produce a surfeit. A horse who enters on a pasture field in the course of a day than graze a tolerable with the hungriest inclinations, can do no more meal. The same provision was not resorted to in the instance of man; for his reason rendered the precaution unnecessary. But he has contrived to escape the restraint of that severe admonisher in this as well as in other cases. Sits wondering with a foolish face of praise." SONG. "SHE died in beauty!—like a rose Blown from its parent stem; She died in beauty!-like a pearl Dropp'd from some diadem. She died in beauty!-like a lay Along a moonlit lake; She died in beauty!-like the song Of birds amid the brake. She died in beauty!--like the snow On flowers dissolved away; She died in beauty!-like a star Lost on the brow of day. She lives in glory!-like Night's gems Set round the silver moon; She lives in glory!-like the sun Amid the blue of June!" THE LITERARY PORT FOLIO. well as to gentlemen; to the young as well as to the oldIt is intended that this journal shall contain such variety of matter as may make it acceptable to ladies as While we shall take care that nothing be admitted which would render the work unfit for any of these classes, we shall endeavour to procure for it sufficient ability to entitle it to the attention of all of them. To these ends we have secured an abundant supply of all foreign and do mestic journals and new books-and we ask the assistance of all who are qualified to instruct or amuse the public. Upon this assistance we depend in a great degree for our hopes of success, for however the abundant stores to which we have access, may enable us to supply matter highly interesting to our readers, we think it of even more importance to give them something peculiarly adapted to the present time and circumstances; SOLNEthing from home. No. 20. PHILADELPHIA, THURSDAY, MAY 20, Terms.-Published every Thursday by E. Littell & Brother, corner of Chestnut and Seventh Streets, Philadelphia. It will contain four handsome engravings every year. Price Two Dollars and a Half a year, payable in advance. Agents who procure and forward payment for four subscribers, shall receive the fifth copy for one year; and so in proportion for a larger number. ANCIENT DUELLING. The following interesting account of a duel, extracted from an old British magazine, gives a faithful delineation of the ferocity and barbarity which distinguished ancient private combats. At the time of this transaction duelling was sustained by the Common Law of England, which countenanced trials by battle.American. His Grace the Duke of Brunswick to the Lord between them. The affront that you gave me at the minister's ball last night, would argue me a person very unworthy the character I bear, were I to let it pass unregarded. To prove me that adventurous knight, which your evasive expression would have given the noble lady to understand, may perhaps be the most acceptable means to reconcile your spleen; convince ine, then, that you are more of a gentleman than I have reason to believe, by meeting me near the first tree behind the lodge at Hyde Park, precisely at half past 5 to-morrow morning; and that there may be no pretensions to delay, I have sent by the bearer. two swords, of which I give you the privilege to make a choice, and shall approve of whatever terms of fighting you'll be pleased to propose. In the interim I wish your Lordship a good rest. Whitehall, 9 o'clock. Lord Baltimore's answer to the above. errors of his youthful days, and fervently sup- On this they immediately left the apartment, 1830. that battles were seldom won by hasty mea sures, deliberately levelled his, and wounded his antagonist near the throat. They both discharged again, when his Lordship received a slight wound in his arm; on which they instantly drew their swords, and impetuously charged each other, rather each of them meditating the death of his adversary, than his own safety. In the first or second thrust, Lord B- entangled the toe of his pump in a tuft of grass, and, in evading a push from his antagonist, fell on his right side, but supporting himself with the sword hand, by inconceivable dexterity, sprung backwards, and evaded the push apparently aimed at his heart. A little pause intervening here, his Grace's second proposed to his Lordship a reconciliation; but the ardent thirst after each other's blood, so overpowered the strongest arguments of reason, that they insisted to execute each other's will, whatever might be the consequence. Nay, the anger of his Grace was raised to such a high pitch of revenge, that he in that critical moment swore, if, for the future, either of the seconds interposed, he would make his way through his body. Thus, after finding all remonstrances of saving them without effect, they retired to their limited distance, and perhaps one of the most extraordinary duels ensued that the records of history can produce, fairly disputed hand to hand. The parrying after this interval brought on a close lock, which, Monsieur de Barreaux says, nothing but the key of the body can open; in this po sition they stood for I dare say a minute, striving to disengage from each other by successive wrenches; in one of which his Grace's sword point got entangled in the guard of his Lordship's, which, in fact, his Lordship overlooked; so that this advantage was recovered by his Grace, before the consequence which it night have brought on was executed. At last, in a very strong wrench on both sides, their swords flew out of their hands; I dare say his Lordship's flew six or seven yards upright. This incident, however, did not retard the affair a single moment, but both seizing their thistles at the same time, the duel was renewed with as much malevolence as ever. By this time his Lordship had received a thrust through the inner of his sword arm, passing right forward to the exterior part of the elbow; his, at the same time, passing a little over that of his antagonist, but alertly drawing back, I think partly before his Grace had recovered his push, ran him through the body a little above the right pap. His Lordship's sword being thus engaged, nothing was left but his naked left arm, and his Grace being in this dangerous situation, yet had fair play at almost any part of his Lordship's body, yet he bravely put by several thrusts exactly levelled at his throat, till at last, having two fingers cut off by defending the pushes, and the rest mangled in a terrible degree, his Grace lodged his sword one rib To which four articles they both consented. below his heart, and in this affecting condition His Grace stripped off his coat, which was they both stood, without either of them being scarlet, trimmed with broad gold lace, when able to make another push, and each of them, my Lord B-'s second stepped in to unbut- by this time, was in a manner covered with About four in the morning his Lordship ton his waistcoat; on which, with some indig- blood and gore; when both the seconds stepped waked and got softly up, without (as he nation, his Grace replied, "Do you take me in and begged they would consider their situathought) being observed by his bedfellow; and to be a person of so little honour as to defend tion, and the good of their future state; yet dressed himself, buckled on his sword, fixed myself by such means as hiding a shield under neither would consent to part, until, by the two agate flints in his pistols, and then charged my doublet?" Lieutenant General D'Lee de- greater loss of blood which his Lordship susthem; but recollecting that his Grace's se- sired his excuse, adding he was bound to see tained in being first wounded, he fell down cond would probably desire to see them loaded, justice done to the cause he had espoused. senseless, but in such a position that he drew drew them again. By this time the Lieutenant The same ceremony passed upon his Lordship his sword out of his Grace's body; but recowas awake, and observing his Lordship take a who had already off his coat, which was crim-vering himself a little before he was quite book out of his pocket, thought it was improper son, with broad silver lace; and both the com- down, faltered forward, and falling with his to give him to know he was observed; his Lord- batants being now ready, my Lord B-add-thigh across his sword, snapped it in the midship kneeled down by a small table in the Lieu-ed, "Now, if it please your Grace, come on;" dle. His Grace observing that he was no lontenant's bed-room, and seemed to pray with ger capable of defence, or sensible of danger, great devotion for a quarter of an hour, often immediately broke his own, and fell on his repeating, just loud enough to be heard, the body with the deepest signs of concern, and I received your Grace's message, and accept the contents. It would give me a sensible concern to be obliged to give up the pretensions which your Grace is doubtful of. It was an oversight, I presume, that your Grace gave me the privilege to choose my sword, except your Grace has been so little used to this sort of ceremony as to have forgot that it is the challenged's choice. This, however, is but a trifle (if any thing); appear at the time appointed, and in the interim I wish your Grace a very good night. B Cavendish Square, 11 o'clock. After my Lord Baltimore had answered his Grace's letter, he visited several of his friends, and was observed to be remarkably jocose when at lady Nottingham's; which occasioned a young lady, after his departure, to remark, that she fancied there was something very agreeable to his Lordship renewed again; alluding to the Countess of Essex, as she well knew his extraordinary passion for that lady. He told the messenger that carried his letter to bring his Grace's answer to Lieutenant General D'Lee's, the gentleman whom he had pitched upon for his second, and with whom he lay all night at his house in St. James's strect, which was done. 1st. That the distance of firing should not be less, at either time, than seven yards and a half. 2d. That if either should be dangerously wounded at the first discharge, the duel should cease, if the wounded person would own his life was in the hands of his antagonist. 3d. That between the firing and drawing their swords, there should be no limited time, but each should endeavour to make the first thrust. 4th. That if either should yield, as in the second article, during the engagement with swords, whether by a wound, false step, or any other means, then the engagement should cease. when they instantly stepped into the circle. both expired before any assistance could be got, though Dr. Fountain had orders from his Grace not to be out of the way in case he should be called upon that morning. Thus fell those two gallant men, whose personal bravery history can hardly equal, and whose honour nothing but such a cause could stain. This anecdote was signed R. Deerhurst, who, it is presumed, was his Grace's second, P. S. In the above manuscript several passages are quite defaced, especially the reign and year, which I make nothing of, at least reconcilable to history. The language I have modernized partly through the whole, for the better perusal of my son; but the seven last lines are not one of them legible, though I be. lieve them to contain reasons why the unhappy affair never got into history. VISIT TO THE PYRAMIDS. THE next morning I ascended the great pyramid. The outside is formed of rough stones of a light yellow colour, which form unequal steps all round, from the bottom to the summit: these stones, or steps, are two, three, or four feet high, and the ascent is rather laborious, but perfectly free from danger, or any serious difficulty. What a boundless and extraordinary prospect opened from the summit! On one side, a fearful and melancholy desart, either level, or broken into wild and fantastic hills of sand and rocks; on the other, scenes of the utmost fertility and beauty marked the course of the Nile, that wound its way as far as the eye could reach into upper Egypt; beneath amidst the overflow of waters, appeared the numerous hamlets and groves, encircled like so many beautiful islets; and far in the distance was seen the smoke of Cairo, and its lofty minarets, with the dreary Mount Mokattam rising above. Who but would linger over such a scene; and, however wide he roamed, who would not feel hopeless of ever seeing it equalled? The height of the great pyramid is five hundred feet; its base about seven hundred feet long at each square, making a circumference of about three thousand feet; and its summit is twenty-eight feet square. It is perfectly true, as a celebrated traveller has observed, that you feel much disappointed at the first view of the pyramids: as they stand in the midst of a flat and boundless desart, and there is no elevation near, with which to contrast them, it is not easy to be aware of their real magnitude, until, after repeated visits and observations, their vast size fills the mind with astonishment. On the third night, carrying lights with us, we entered the large pyramid by a long gradual descent of near a hundred feet in length; and next ascended the long gallery of mar ble, a hundred and fifty feet in length, and excessively steep, which conducted us to the great chamber. In the roof of this lofty room are stones of granite, eighteen feet long; in what manner these masses were conveyed to such a situation, it is not easy to conceive; still less for what purpose these immense structures were formed, filled up, as the greater part of the interior is, with masses of stones and marble. The few chambers hitherto discovered bear no proportion whatever to the vast extent of the interior. So immensely strong is their fabric, and so little do they appear injured by the lapse of more than three thousand years, that one cannot help believing, when gazing at them, that their duration can only end with that of the world. The celebrated sarcophagus which Dr. C. fancifully supposed to have contained the bones of Joseph, stands in the great chamber: it has been much injured by the various pieces struck off. The pyramids of Cephrenes, the passage into which Mr. Belzoni has opened, stands not far from that of Cheops, but cannot be ascended. The pyramids stand on a bed of rock, a hundred and fifty feet above the desart, and this elevation contributes to their being seen from so great a distance. On one of the days of my | THE DAUGHTER OF THE REGIMENT. stay here, the wind blew so violently from morning to night, that the sand was raised, though not in clouds, yet in sufficient quantities to penetrate every thing, and render it dif ficult to stand against it: my tent, which was pitched in the plain below, was blown down, and I was obliged to take up my abode in the place of tombs. The large chamber excavated in the rock, and inhabited by Belzoni during his residence of six months here, is close to the pyramid of Cephrenes; it is very commodious and lofty, though excessively warm. On entering the door, the only place through which the light is admitted, an immense number of bats rushed out against us. All the ruinous apartments and temples in this country are peopled with these animals, which Belzoni contrived to get rid of by lighting large fires, the smoke of which soon expelled them.Carne's Letters from the East, p. 116. [From the Saturday Bulletin.] A LOCK OF HAIR. Few things in this weary world are so delightful as Keepsakes! Nor do they ever to my heart at least, nor to my eye, lose their tender-their powerful charm! How slight, how small, how tiny, a memorial, saves a beloved-one from oblivion-worn on the finger, or close to the heart! especially if they be dead! No thought is so insupportable as that of entire, total, blank forgetfulness-when the creature that once laughed, and sang, and wept to us, close to our side, or in our arms, is as if her smiles, her voice, her tears, her kisses had never been. She and them all swallowed up in the dark nothingness of the dust! Of all Keepsakes, memorials, relics,-most dearly, most devoutly do I love a little lock of hair-and oh! when the head it beautified has long mouldered in the dust, how spiritual seems the undying glossiness of the sole remaining ringlet! All else gone to nothing -save and except that soft, smooth, burnished and glorious fragment of the apparelling that once hung in clouds and sunshine over an angel's brow! Aye, a lock of hair is far better than any picture-it is a part of the beloved object herself; it belonged to the tresses that often, long-long ago, may have been dishevelled, like a shower of sunbeams, over your beating breast! But now solemn thoughts sadden the beauty once so bright-so refulgent: the longer you gaze on it, the more and more pensive grows the expression of the holy relic-it seems to say, almost upbraidingly, "weep'st thou no more for me?" and then indeed, a tear true to the imperishable affection in which all nature once seemed to rejoice, bears witness, that the object towards which it yearned is no more forgotten, now that she has been dead for so many, many, long, weary days, months, years-that she was forgotten during one hour of absence, that came like a passing cloud between us and the sunshine of our living-her loving smiles! Political Pismires.-A Frenchman, who had spent some time in the United States, was lately travelling in one of the western stages, and undertook to describe to a fellow passenger, an Englishman who had just arrived in the country, the names and character of the dif ferent political parties. After running over the odd list of Democrats, Federalists, Republicans, Quids, Bucktails, &c. &c. with a proper explanation to each: "Then dare is de -de-de-vat you call-em-vat in England you call de leetle red Pismire, ha?' The little red Pismire?" replied the Englishman. Why, we call them ants." "Begar, dat is it antis-de antis party-de pismire party." This significant description and manner of refreshing his memory, excited the risibility of all the passengers but two, the honest Frenchman, who was unconscious of having said any thing to laugh at, and a renouncing anti-mason who thought it a personal allusion. Ithaca Journal. From the MS. notes of a Detenu. When the French, under the command of Dumourier, had completely defeated the Austrian army at Jenappes, they found among the heaps of dead and dying a female child, about three years of age. In what manner and by whom she had been brought into the field of slaughter no one could tell. The little innocent was guarded by a large black poodle, who would not for some time allow the soldiers to approach; to this faithful animal the care of the child appeared to be entrusted. The partiality of the French military for dogs of this species is well known; after much enticement he consented to partake of some nourishment, and allowed his charge to be taken by one of the soldiers, who placed her upon his knapsack; he belonged to the 40th regiment of Infantry, and it was unanimously agreed upon among the men of his battalion, that both child and dog should be adopted by the regiment. The poodle they called Felix, and the young girl was christened by the title of "La Fille du Regiment." By turns she was carried upon the backs of the soldiers; who were delighted with the little creature, and she accompanied them to Holland. Upon several occasions she was in the midst of the battles in which the regiment was engaged, yet the roaring of the cannon did not intimidate her; but her heart was ready to break when, in a skirmish that took place on the banks of the Rhine, her favourite and faithful attendant, Felix, was wounded by a gun shot, and died in her arms. The regiment, after three years severe service, were ordered into garrison at Mons. Their protegee was now six years of age; when, by the advice of the colonel and officers, they determined on placing her in a respectable boarding-school to receive her education; and the sum of four thousand four hundred francs was collected in the regiment and delivered to the Mayor of the town, who was appointed her guardian. Having received sudden orders to march to some distant place, nearly all the men of the regiment came to the school where their beloved child was dwelling, tenderly embraced and bid her farewell for ever, as in the course of a few years probably not an individual of the regiment remained alive-they perished in those sanguinary contests that took place in Italy. In 1808 I had an opportunity of seeing the young girl at Tournay, whither she had been removed by the permission of the Mayor of Mons, who had obtained for her the situation of governess in the family of Count de L.-She was beautiful, of extremely amiable disposition, and highly accomplished. I have heard her say that the recollections of the time she spent in the regiment were quite fresh and fraught with pleasing associations; she had not even forgotten the names of those persons who were more particularly kind to her, and she expressed herself with the deepest feelings of gratitude for the education she had received by their bounty. She often made inquiries of the officers, who were continually arriving from the scene of warfare in Italy, whether they had met with any of "her dear Fortieth;" but alas! they had all disappeared from the earth. Her birth continued involved in mystery, and I never heard that she was able to ascertain who her unfortunate parents had been. In 1809, she was married to Baron de L., the colonel of a regiment, and also holding a situation in the Imperial Court. About this period I frequently used to see her going to the Palace of the Tuilleries, of which she formed one of the most brilliant ornaments: her amiable manners, her beauty and virtue, were the theme of universal admiration; and even at a time when so elevated in rank, she was not ashamed of acknowledging herself as "the daughter of the regiment." A young Englishman, who had been acquainted with her when she resided in the family of Count de L. was, in consequence of attempting to effect his es cape from Valenciennes, ordered by the minister of the police to be confined in Bitche; from this fortress he contrived to get away, but was taken on the frontiers of Holland, tried by a Court-Martial as a spy, and sentenced to the Galleys for life. Hearing that this lady possessed much influence at Court, he wrote and informed her of the dreadful situation in which he was placed, on the eve of being transferred with one hundred and fifty felons to the Bagne of Rochefort. The lady did all in her power to save the unfortunate youth, and at length obtained from Fouche an order to have him sent to the Citadel of Valenciences, where he remained until the allied armies entered France. The sojourn of this amiable woman upon earth was but brief; her husband appears to have been acquainted with the mystery of her birth, but probably never made known to her the circumstances. Upon the marble-slab that covers her tomb is inscribed "Cy git Madame la Baronne De. Son epour la vit naitre et mourir." [Her husband saw her born and die.] "When I consider the Heavens, the work of thy hands, the moon and the stars which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him, or the son of man, that thou visitest him?"-PSALMS. Come ye! upon whose shrouded mind And grope where mystic shadows fall- There is no flood of sunlight shed, Save boasted Reason's fitful ray, : A restless dream, by Passion fed: Ye, who seek evidence of God, And scorn the lessons of his Word; Look o'er the paths ye all have trod, Recall the themes ye all have heard: The murmured warnings that have press'd, Like low breathed voices to the ear, The awful whisperings of the breast, That deeply echoed-" God is here!" Come, and while Spring's alluring song Is borne from every freshening spray; When every gale that steals along Bears the young bird's beguiling lay:When like the mystery of a Dream, Bends o'er ye the Eternal sky, O'erlooking wood, and field, and stream,Hear the heart whisper "God is nigh!” Come, when the proud, descending sun Wraps the cloud-draperies round his brow;When the wide Earth he looks upon, Seems radiant in his boundless glow:When buds are closing,-and the haze Comes o'er the far blue mountain's head:While Sunset's free and kindling blaze Lies painted on Day's ocean-bed! In Autumn's hour-in Winter's scene, When pale pure hills in glory rise:When forests, stript of Summer's sheen Stand naked 'neath the bitter skies:In the deep terrors of the storm The tempest's mighty thunderings,— As Death's dark angel rears his form, And veils the wide Earth with his wings! Read ye of these!-and unbelief Will like a shadow disappear- From the unpillared atmosphere :- Unstained by earthliness or sin! Are leaves of a great volume given :- And bid us seek repose in Heaven! Col. Star. MOUNT CARMEL. 1 Kings, chap. xviii. v. 44, 45. Extract from a Journal, by an English Officer, on board the Hydrios Brig of War, the Achilles. As we were seated at breakfast, a sailor put his head within the door, and saying briefly, that it looked squally to windward, hurried again upon deck. We all followed, and on coming up, saw a little cloud on the verge of the horizon towards the south, which was every instant spreading over the sky, and drawing nearer to us. The captain altered his course instantly, preparing to scud before it, and in the mean time ordered all hands aloft to take in sail. But scarcely an instant had elapsed ere the squall was upon us, and all grew black around: the wind came rushing and crisping over the water, and in a moment the ship was running almost gunwale down, whilst the rain was dashing in torrents on the decks. As quick as thought, the foresail was torn from the yards, and as the gust rushed through the rigging, the sheets and ropes were snapping and cracking with a fearful noise. The crew, however, accustomed to such sudden visitants, were not slow in reefing the necessary sails, trimming the rigging, and bringing back the vessel to her proper course; and in about a quarter of an hour, or even less, the hurricane had all passed by—the sun burst again through the clouds, that swept in its impetuous train-the wind sunk to its former gentleness, and all was once more at peace, with the exception of the agitated sea, which continued for the remainder of the day, rough and billowy. It is the dread of such bourasques as the present, that compels almost every vessel in the Levant to shorten sail at the break of day, since, in cloudy weather, it would be next to impossible, during the night, to discern the approach of the tempest in time to prepare for its reception; and to a ship, with all her canvass spread, its effects might prove terrific. This instance and others I have witnessed, are thoroughly explanatory of the passage in Kings, where the servant of Elijah descries from the top of Carmel the little cloud ascending from the sea: "And it came to pass at the seventh time, that he said, Behold there ariseth a little cloud out of the sea like a man's hand." And in the meanwhile the heavens grew black with clouds and wind, and "there was a great rain." (1 Kings, chap. xviii. v. 44, 45.) In the Mediterranean such scenes are frequent; but fortunately, though so dreadfully impetuous, the hurricane is so local in its fury, that its impetuosity will scarcely be perceived at the distance of a very few miles. There are at present three titles known in Ireland to have been transmitted from time immemorial, and whose origin is lost in the lapse of ages. They are known as the Knight of Kerry, the Knight of Glin, and the White Knight, which last is centered in the Earl of Kingston, who claims the priority in point of antiquity. The other two are in the family of the Fitzgeralds, and differ very little in the mottos they assume from that of the Duke of Leinster, which in the old Milesian phrase of “ crom a boo," is supposed to be an ancient war cry; that of the Knight of Glin is "shanet a boo," MARY LEE A BALLAD, BY JOHN CLARE. Can they fear thy frowns the while, Like thine own purity: My esteem for thee- Here's the violet's modest blue While it thinks of thee; I'm as lowly too, indeed, My charming Mary Lee, I could find for thee; Though a blush is scarcely seen, Like love,-for I've no power, Can plead excuse for me. Might make them dear to thee; Than all wealth's golden skill, My charming Mary Lee; My wreath of flowers are few, Than mine to thee; A Curious Circumstance-If horses are put to grass on a townland, five miles to the west of Rathkeale, county of Limerick, at the end of two months the caronate ulcerates, the ," and the others differ in minute particu- horny hoof separates gradually from the sensilars. The translation given to the Duke's is tive foot, and falls off. The horse must be "I burn," and is accounted for in a curious horned, and the void created by the opening of manner. It is said that one of the early pro- the exterior of the horny substance kept congenitors of the family kept in his house at Car- stantly filled with cotton or fine tow. When ton, in Kildare, a monkey of extraordinary do- the hoofs fall off the horse gets perfect new cility; and, the house one day catching fire, ones, free from sand cracks, ringbones, corns, the monkey is said to have rescued a child in quitters, and narrow heels-a desideratum in his arms from the impending danger, and car- farriery. The wild fowl that resort to the ried it to a place of safety; the motto of "crom place lose their feathers, and are caught in a boo," was afterwards adopted, and continues, abundance by the country people. The land with monkies as supporters to the armorial in the vicinity of the quicksilver mines in Bobearings, up to the present day.-Court Jour-hemia and Hungary, possesses the same quality. nal. |