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BY R. M. LYON & CO. wnesemes POETRY. {I° Our paper may full into the hands of those who haye seemand read the following poem; they will however, be ready to excuse its re-publication, as a second perusal will not prove uninteresting; and thero are miny who have probably nover read it, ito whom it cannot fail to be highly acceptable. | It is the production of Gen. P. M. Warsone, of New- York, and independent of other able efforts of the wame-pen, would entitle its author to a high rank in the list of American poots.-Elds. Democrat. The Battle of Lexington. Sitt was m scone of strange and thrilling: interest -they stood there to oppose, an, authority which they fad beentaught to fear, if not vencrate. «Ma- ny were armed but with their wrongs; others had enught up with haste the rude wenpons of the chase; but there was determination in every look. Well did the assailants rue their assault upou that little band of patrigts. - Long and well shall the doings of tliat day be remembered. It was the opening «cone of a glorious drams,\ 'There was a fearful gathering seen, On that eventful day: And mon were there who-ne'er had been: 'The movers in a fray; 'The pencofol and the silent came wf’zh darkling brows and flashing eyes; And breasts thit boro a smothered flame, Ware there for sacrifice! No pomp. of march-no- proud rrray- DJ; brazen trumpat's sound- As solemnly they took their-way, Unto that conflict ground: Sadly, as if some tio were broken- But firm, add with a brow sovere-- Dark glances fissed, and words were spoken, As mon willlook and speak in fear; Yat coursed no coward's blood Whore that Iona phalanx stood, Rock-like, but spirit-wrought- A strange unwonted feeling crept \Within: their broosts-all memories slept; Save one consuming thought, To live a fettéred slave, Or dia in Freedom's gravel Though many an arm hung weaponless, 'The clenclied fingers spoke full well The stem regolve, the fearlessness, That dangur could not (anon; Yet sone; with hasty han Tho rust-encumbered brand, Had snatched from its peaceful nleelp, And held itnow with a grasp: that told A freoman's life should be dearly sold- 'Twas a courage stern and deep! Froudly, as: conquarers come From a field their arms have won, With bugle-blast and beat of drum The Briton host came on, 'Their banners unfurled and gaily streaming-- Their burnished arms in the sun-light gleaming; ¥garleav of fog, and of valor high, With a joyous glos they wore idly dreaming Of a bloodless triumph night \The heaty tread of the war-horse prancing~- 'The lightning-gleam. of the sabres glancing . Broke on the car, and flashed on the eye; An tho columnod foo in kis strength advancing, Ponledhiis war-notes to the echoing sky1 *Twas. o gillant band that marshalled there; With tha dragon-lag upbotna in' uir; For England gathorod then her (rude, Thé bravest spirits of hor land; ,. Namof to heroic deeds allied, . Thestrong of heart and hand; They came in thoir panoplied might, In the pride oftheir chivalrous fune- * 'They came as the warrior comes to the fight To win him a wreath for his name: They came as the occon-wave comes in its wrath, hon: the storm-spirit frowns on the deep; Thoy came as the mountain-wind comes in its path, Whon: the tompest hath roused it from sleep: They were met as «\the rock meets the wave,\ And dashes its fury to: air; le ware mat as the foe should be met by the brave, ith hearts for the conflict, but not for despair! \What power hath stayed that wild career? Not pity's voice-nora thrill of fear; *Tis tha dread recoiPof the dooming wave, Eig it sweeps tho burk 10s yawning grave *Tls the fearful hour of thesbrooding storm, Ere the lightning-bolt hath sped; 'The shock hath come} and the life-blood warm, Congeals on the breast of the deadl The strife, andthe taunt, and the death-cry loud Are pooling high through the sulphurous cloud! \Ewan a day of chargeful fite, For the foo of the bannered-line; And tha host that caine at morn in state; - Woro w brokon throng ere the nun's decline: And many a warrior's heart was cold, And many a noble spirit crushed- Where the orimson tide. of battle rolled, And theavonging legions rushedt Yo! for tha land thou tramplest o'er, Death-dealing fiond of war} Tia battle-hoofs are dyed in gore, 6d: havoo drives thy car: Wol for the dark and desolato, crushed beneath thy tread- Thy frown hath been as a withering fate, _ Fo the mourning and the dead! \Wo! for the pleasant cottage-home, The love-throng at the door; ainly they think his stop will come- 'Thote chorished comes no more: Wol for the broken-hearted, 'The long-one by the hearth- Wao! for the bliss doparted, Forovor gone from earth| Wroqths for the living conquerort _ And flax- 'a maod for the perished! 'No-trbphted stone may their deeds restore, .._ hero numai are chorished; Thay bared thom to the sabro-stroke, Nor quallod an or: when tha fury broke; 'They foughtlike men who dared to dig=- For freedom\ was their battlo-cry-- And: loud it sung through the conflict-amokel Up with a nation's bannors! let themfly , With an eagle flight, \To the fur bluo aky~ \The a glorious sight, e As thoy float abroad in the azure light- And thoir fame shall nover diet # \When nations sonrch their brightest page, maps «4 Far doods that gild the golden ago, + A \And shine, the metcor-lights. of story- Britain, with swelling pride shgll hear £Crasay's fold; and old Poictcer, ©§ And doathless Agincourt; Callis, point with a kindling eye ''To the day of her belted chivalry / _ And hor gallant Troubadour; «Oli Seoctay too, with joy shall turn ' Whom lives the fight of Bannockburn, And Falkirk's fiold of gloryl aid of the free! though young in fame, ath may not boast a nobler namo, '¥iatea¥aplendos\ia not thinc-- auctra, nor Murathon; , \Fetlouk whore lives in glory's lint, * \IThe day of Lexington! 33,9 Courier)\ a whig paper, published: at in this county, has been sus- Almynded# © It once professed republicanism for months, and then came out orenly and F gainst GanoralJackson, and all the lead- megures of his administration. - Since it first ostitized. its course has heen downward, till it ridged in non-ontity. | Its history may be writ- en im one line. J,‘ Tt WAt-«-----it is 106. infifiuco to ite name-ithas left no ashes to be Lihad.--Iutertown Engle, 43% 'I master, | humor. MISCELLANY. [From the New-York Mirror.] MY FIRST PARTY. @I was not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass,\ There is no period in a person's life, more awkward or embarrassing than at the time when he divests himself of the trammels and confinement of a schoolboy's life, and takes his station in the world-his own lord and The mauvaise Rhonte acquired from having little intercourse with the world, an awkwardness arising from the lawless life he has ever led, render him at once an ob- ject of pity and ridicule. My adventures in the fashionable world, though occurring ma- ny years ago, are so vividly impressed on my memory, that the time of their occurrence appears as of yesterday. My education, ha- bits and taste unfitted me for a life, yeleped, in common parlance, a fashionable one. By fashionable life, I mean that state of society when genius; intelligence and refinement are secondary considerations in raising a young aspirant to an enviable seat of notoriety a- mid its immediate circle. A good person- consummate impudence-a knowledge of the last novel-a master in dancing qnd waltz- ing-a wit-r punster-are the necessary accomplishments to recommend 'a young man to the notice of the beau monde. I ask a patient hearing, while I relate the history of my adventures; for, as Sir Walter Scott says, \if I tell not my story in my own way, how can I be warranted that I tell it in yours.\ I have said, that neither my education, habits nor taste, fitted me for fashionable life. Nature had done still less for me; for, while at school, I enjoyed the reputation of boing called the ugliest looking boy in the village. My mother has often told me, that when a babe, L was frightful to look upon, but she then comforted herself with the old adage, that \an ugly child changed to a hand- some man;\ still, as I grew in years, the contracted features of my ugliness expanded even into hideousness, so that;. when I left my paternal roof, I was considered the eighth wonder of the world. But the face is not al- ways the index of the mind-I possessed ma- ny good qualities, and held an estimable rep- utation among my friends and associates. I was goodnatured, when I had nothing to trouble me-accommodating, when I had my own way-and generous, when I was in the My education, too, was very re- spectable, although I could not boast of much intimacy with the dead languages, or con- tive tongue. _I had studied, with commenda- ble zeal, the French grammar, and commit- ted to memory various sentences in the vo- cabulary. ther irregular, but still legible-was well versed in arithmetic, as faras \the rule of three\-and was said to read Milton with becoming emphasis and correctness. I had, also attended a dancing-school for one quar- ter; and, though the master could not change Dame Nature, who had formed my body to designate a curved Zine, still I was an adept in the performance of the \pigeon wing\ and | \double shuffle.\ It will be admitted, that, with all these ac- complishments,; had arrived at a proper pe- tiod to cast myself upon the troubled waters of active life, and to enter the mercantile arc- na, for which T was destined. My good mo- ther furnished my wardrobe with parental care and frugality, my father gave me a suffi- cient sum of money for my immediate wants, and receiving from both their parting bles- sing, I took stage for the good city of B. A short time after my arrival in town, I obtained a situation in a retail dry-goods store, and with a light heart and willing hands, I engaged with much assiduity in my now avo- cation. 1 had been in B-- about a month, when one night, as I came to my boarding- house, a note was handed me by the servant. The pink paper, the green sealing-wax, and the general appearance of the note, quite star- me, and it was several minutes ere I was ewfficiently composed to open it-however, I regxmmd~my self-possession, broke the seal, and read- c Mrs. Willizms requests the pleasure of Mr. Mi- chael Simpson's company, on Wednesday evening, the twentieth instant.\\ The Willigms' family was one of the most fashionable in the city. My father became acquainted with Mr. W. the winter he was sent a representative to the General Court, and is said to have assisted him very materi- | ally in passing a favorite measure through the house. This will account for my invitation. I read the note over several times, then re- tired to my chamber to reflect what course I ought to pursue; but at last came to the con- clusion to await the judgment of my fellow- clerks, . The next morning I held a consultation with my friends, as to the propriety of ac- cepting or refusing the invitation. I gave the note to the oldest clerk, and requested his advice. He read the billet very careful- ly-then measuring me with his eyes from head to foot, he burst out into an intolerable fit of laughter. \How like the deuse you will look in a party, Simpson; why, you will frighten every lady out of the room. However, go, by all means-you will make an assortment; but take care of yourself, and I will give you a fow lessons before your debut.\ Such was the kind advice of my friend; I was goon persuaded to accept the invitation, and retired to the desk to write an answer. But here was trouble. I had never written a note in my life; for in our village, when a party was to be,given, one of the persons in the house walked round, and gave a verbal invitation to the guests, and made them say whether they would come or not; as mother said she wanted to know how much cake to make, and how many walnuts to crack.- However, an answer must be written. In a t 1 LOCKPORT, N.Y., SEPTEMBER 26, 1835. the first place, I took a sheet of foolscap pa- per, and with my penknife cut an exact pat- tern of the note I had received; then I ruled four lines with my thumb nail, requested one of the clerks to mend ajpen for me;-and went to work. 1 will not describe' the agony I suffered du- ring one weary hour, in attemptingito reply to this note. A dozen sheets of paper I de- faced, ere I was able to write a decent an- swer. - I either begun too near the top of the paper-or I left out a word-or in referring to the dictionary, I found I had mispelled; in fine, I had nearly exhausted all my paper and patience, when. a versio week me which I thought proper. I began again, and wrote the following: \Dran Mapam-I got your note last evening, asking me to your house next Wednesday; and as Father told m et into good company ifI could, I guess I'll co gYour friend, - Miceazt Smmsox. I saw no impropriety in this diction-so I folded the note, sealed it with a wafer, and having no one to obey my summons, I was obliged to leave it myself, on my way home at night. Four days were now to be passed before the memorable evening arrived, when I was to make my debut in the beau monde. I need not say that the anticipation of this appalling occurrence formed my thoughts by day and my dreams by night; and when the evening arrived, my mind was so deranged, and my conduct so extraordinary, that my friends were doubtful whether I was really a sane being. Being informed by one of the «clerks that it was necessary 'to have my hair curled be- fore I went, I repaired, as soon as the duties of the store were over, to the nearest barber, and requested him to perform the office. The barber started at the bushy appearance of my head, and seemed loth to attempt the job. However, after I had consented to be shorn of a portion of my locks, he pinned a towel under my chin, and commenced shear- ing. gi always had a passion for a good head of hair. From a boy I had cultivated and doc- tored, with pomatum and tallow, the hair, purticularly on the back part of the head, so that my cranium, at this time, appeared as though covered with camel's hair brushes- the color of my hair approaching nearer to this article than to any thing else-and now it was to be mutilated and sacrificed for this occasion. Lock after lock fell upon my shoulders, and I could hear the barber heave many a sigh, ere the operation was comple- ted. This beingigflone, qfiiq curling-tongs 1 verse with fluency in any other than my ng\) were heated «nd dfipli¢d. : Fhe hitherto. ob- & stinate straightness of my hair under this ope- ration was transformed into an incongruous mass of curls and snarls. 'The office, I know I wrote a bold, round hand, ra-} was a difficult one; for the fellow twisted my thair round his tongs with such strength and power, that several times I was near being raised from my seat. Yet I bore it all with heroic fortitude; not a word escaped my lips -no, not even when I heard my hair singe under the influence of tlie heated iron-no, nor when the tongs came in contact with my ear and the exposed part of my head-but?t like:Absalom, I submitted to my fate. * This important affair being accomplished, I returned to my boarding-house to make my toilet for the evening. 'This was no easy task. -To be sure, I had what would be call- ed in the country a Aandsome suit of clothes, but it was very different from the fashion of the city. - Our snip of the village possessed a remarkable faculty of. making a coat from a heard of; as Ae considered that coat the best fit which set tightest to the person, and into which the wearer had the greatest difficulty to crowd himself. After taking a strong cup of tea, as a stim- ulant, I retired to arrange my dress for the evening. My best suit was of course put in| requisition, and, being thoroughly brushed, I distributed it upon the various chairs in the room, there to\remain till the time should ar- rive when thef@uties of the toilet should com- mence. My agitation now was excessive: the time was so fast approaching when I should really appear in that circle I had so constantly tho't and dreamed of-when I should be truly knocking at the door, and making my first bow -that my knees commenced sparring, my hands trembling, 'and my whole body suf- fering under such excitement, that one would have supposed that I was under the operation of a galvanic battery. In the actof shaving, I lacerated my face- in several places; in} brushing my teeth, I used the shaving-brush instead of the proper implement. I washed my hands with the tooth-powder-brushed my hair with the shoe-brush; in fine, my wits were so disordered, that I was unconscious of the office I was performing. After various reverses, I succeeded in ar- ranging my dress to my satisfaction; and, as I viewed myself in the glass, I became more composed-feeling convinced I never before appeared to so much advantage. My tailor had indeed exercised to perfection his talent in making, what he called, a good fit. My coat was of blue broadcloth, ornamented with brass buttons of enormous cireumference.- The waist of the coat evinced a strong incli- nation to take its seat between my shoulders, while the top of the collar formed nearly a dead level with the crown of my head. The sleeves fitted tight to tlie arm, but, whether from mistake or fashion, they barely conceal- ed the wrist, and left the whole hand exposed. My vest was of woollen; dark ground, but stripes of red and yellow relieved. its other- wise dull appearance. My trousers were of a red mixed color, cut after the Turkish fash- fon; a nice pair of white woollen stockings covered the immense length of my feet, made still longer by the prevailing fashion of hav- ing the pump an inch longer than the foot; so that my body appeared as though. set upon runners. A snow-white cravat surrcunded my reck, while the stiff, starched shirt-collar stood firmly up under my ears, as though my less quantity of cloth than any tailor ever |; head depended upon that alone for support. '. Thus equipped, I paced the chamber till seven o'clock; and supposing this the proper hour for making my obeisance to Mrs. Wil- iams, I started for her house. The night was rainy and boisterous in the extreme; and not wishing to incur the expenge of coach-hire, I pulled a- pair of woollen stockings over my pumps, took an umbrella, and commenced my walk. The barber had dressed my hair so much to my mind, that, fearing to disar- range it, Fearried my hat in my hand, and made the umbrella perform: a double office.- During my: walk, I meditated on the proper. form of address on being presented to the la- dy of the house, and, after various trials, I hit upon one I thought appropriate. \I have the honor of wishing Mrs. Williams good evening.\ - This will do, thought I; so I con- tinued repeating it until I arrived at the door of the house. Have you ever called on a dentist to have your tooth extracted? if so, did not your heart beat and flutter almost to bursting, as you touched 'the fatal bell that announced your coming? But you know not half the agony I suffered, as I gave a half-smothered knock on the door of the house where I was topass the evening. But knock I did. The door flew open as if by magic; I was within the house; and my fate was sealed. But all was confused; my fortitude forsook me, and I stood in the vestibule a statue. 'Walk into the kitchen,\ said the servant. 'This aroused me. \The kitchen, sir! I was invited to come and see Mrs. Williams: is not this her house?\ \Oh yes, sir; I beg pardon, sir; I really mistook. Please walk into this room, sir,\ showing me into a basement parlour, ~ \No I replied, \I want to take my stockings off before I see the ladies.\ \Oh this is only the dressing-room; please walk in, sit.\ in I walked, freed myself from the cover» ing of my feet, and prepared to ascend into the parlor. But this required some resolu- tion, and was not to be taken in a minute; so I sat down, and reflected what course I should pursue. : ' \Pretty fellofi—fl t servant, to ask me in- to the. kitchen! I wish I could catch him in our town, I would teach him who warsqti ¢ I don't hear a word spoken; but I suppose all- parties are stiff at first; however, it must be near the time for going in.\\ hl 'These were my reflections; and, after re- peatiiil g the form of; my address several times, I leftthe dressing-room. 'The shriekshand roams of a, dvingzinneg would=not have sounded as has}??? in rfiy ears as did the noise of the staircase, as I ascended to the drawing-room. | But there was no retreat. I arrived at the top of the stairs-I opened the door-walked in-\I have the honor of wishing\-not a being was in the room! Had I mistaken the house? had the servant trick- ed me? was I too early? each thought flashed through 'my mind, when a female made her appearance from the closet. \I have the horfor of: wishing Mrs. Williams good eve- Hing,\ I said, stalking up to her with prodi- gios Strides, -= ers nston ce “flit! sit, I am;not Mrs. Williams; I am her servant; but whit do you want of her, and how dare you come up into the parlor?\ \Ma'am; I was invited here: is not Mrs. Williams going to give a party this evening?\ \Oh then you are fnviled; but, six, the company will not be here these two hours.- But, sit down, and I will speak to my lady.\. don'tallow me to disturb Mis. Williams.\ - If I ever get out of this scrape, thought 4,521 never.will be caught again. ge At this moment a lady, most splendidly dressed, entered the room. She looked véty inquiringly at me, when I informed her, that \I was Michael Simpson, but that I was very sorry I had come so early, and would call in.\\ _ «Oh, by no means,\ said Mrs. Williams. «Bit down, Mr. Simpson, I want to talk with you.\ , I took a seat. 'The perspiration rolled down my face, as though I wasiinder the ope- ration of a vapour-bath. _ ,! - c «Well, Mr. Simpson, why; is the news in Pelham? When did you hear from your pa- rents?\ , «\Oh there is nothing new, ma'm; I had a letter from father a few days since; he says that Deacon Cook's barn is burnt, with three yoke of catile in it; and thatthe widow Beals is dead,\ \Indeed!\ said Mrs. Williams. But I will not mention the variety of sub- jects touched upon by Mrs. Williams, in or- der to amuse me, but I will pass to the time. when the guests began to assemble. I took my stand behind the sofa in the cor- ner of the room, and with eager eyes I watched the entrance of each individual- First came three or four old ladies, with their ribboned éaps, black silk gowns, and gold,] chains and watches. Bowing to the lady of the house, they took their seats on the sofa, and after eying me very closely, they com- menced talking about their ailings, their pur- chases, and their relatives' misfortunés.-- Then entered some dozen young ladies, giv» ing a final brush withtheir imménse sleeves, and, as they made their courtesies, I nearly jumped from the floor, thinking they had lost their equilibrium; but they arose in the same mechanical manner with which they humbled themselves. Ladies after ladies continued to flock in un- til the rooms were nearly crowded; but, with the exception of some elderly gentlemen, there was not a beau in the drawing-rooms. Presently I observed several young gentle- men standing by the door, and, after run- ning their fingers through their hair, and ad- justing their cravats, and screwing their fa- ces into a \good evening\ sort of a look, they entered, bowed to the lady, then dis- | tributed themselves among the company. \Ob no-I thank you; I will call againg|\ saner ing a little confidence, I ventured 'to ask young Williams to introduce me' to some of the ladies. - Williams was evidently startled at my request, but was too much .okthe gen- tlemian to refuse. Whether he intended to quiz me or not, I cannot say; but heavsuldvhe would introduce me to Miss Rivers, directing my eye to the lady in question. 20. «Will you introduce me to hert\ L.cried; \why she is the handsomest lady in the room.\ j \Certainly she is,\ replied Williams, \and you must be very polite to her.\\ f let me alone for that,\ I answered, endeavoring to assume an aly of indifference, when in truth my heart was in my mouth. I took his arm and we made our way thro' the- crowd; but, most unfortunately, one of my huge coat buttons came in contact with the lace cape worn by one of the elderly la- dies, and from some cause, we were bound together, Iendeavored to pass on, and the lady attempted to free herself from such an unpleasant union, but in vain. Isaw the difficulty, and being wholly engrossed by the thoughts of my introduction to Miss Rivers, I had recourse to my penknife, and the affair was soon settled. The lady screamed, call- ed me an impudent fellow, but I heard no- thing till I found myself before Miss Rivers. \Miss Rivers, permit me to introduce you to Mr.; Simpson, one of my country friends.\ Three times did I incline my body to the ground, and three times did I attempt to speak, but my tongue clave to the roof of my mouth and refused utterance. I changed my posi- tion from the front of the lady to her side, and leaned my head against the wall. The lady during this movement, retained the same composure and expression as when I first bowed. \Must I speak first,\ thought L- I made a desperate push, and taking hold of her sleeve very carefully, I asked \what she gave for that calico she had on?\\ Miss Rivers started. \Lal sir, I don't know; you must ask ma.\ «'I hope you won't think me impudent; ma'm,\ I replied. © «\Oh by no means; but pray, Mr. Simp- son, how long have you been in town,\ said Miss Rivers, thinking she would quiz me a little. - \I have only been in town about a month, servant. How still the folks are up stairs\hma'am so I am not quite so genteel as some of-the chaps here.\ 'Ah, you want me to flatter you,\ an- | swered'the lady; \but I won't;, but tell me, have you seen Rob Roy?\ referring to Scott's last novel. * \No ma'am, is he here?\ \Oh :E:do. not mean the person himself, but you know the work has just come to towh.\ Yes, ma'am, I régollect now, we had a case come from NewL‘York. Capital article for cloaks. We sell them at two dollars a yard; perhaps you would like a pattern?\ «You do not understand me,\ said Miss Rivers, endeavoring to command her risi- bles; \I had reference to Scott's last novel.\ \A novell oh, I never read such things, for they tell me there is not a word of truth in them, and I don't want to read a pack of lies.\ ~ . ® Our edifying conversation was interrupted by the arrival of some refreshments, which the servant proffered to Miss Rivers: Here | was,a chance for my gallantry. The waiter was covered 'with ice creams, Roman punch, blane-magne, etc. etc'; articles never before sgen bi'ine; however, I stepped forward, and gsked the lady what I should have the plea- sure of giving her. \I will thank you for a little Roman punch, Mr. Simpson.\ Roman purich at this time was held in. high estimation in B It was some- times of frozen Champagne; sometimes of water, spiced and frozen; but of this I was ignorant. - Punch!\ thought I, \rather queer for a lady to drink punch!\ endeavoring at the same time to find the article on the waiter.- I looked in vain; nothing resembling what I called punch, was visible; so I whispered in the servant's ear-\Bring me a glass of punch, waiter; - quick!\ then turning to Miss Rivers, «Will you not have some of this white stuff first?\\ referring to some delicate blane-magne. ‘ \As you please, Mr. Simpson,\ said the lady, smiling. 209 . I covered the plate with this delicious morceauss asked the waiter if he had got a knife and fork; he said a spoon was gener- ally used, so I handed it to the lady, and re- turned to my place by her side. - Presently I saw the servant approaching bearing on the waiter a glass of punch. - \Now I thought, \Miss Rivers shall have a drink.\ Taking the glass from the waiter, I hand- 1 ed it to the lady, informing her that it look- ed as though it might be good. 'But what is this, Mr. Simpson? asked Miss Rivers. «Why, ma'am, this is the punch you or- dered; pray take it; no one shall see you drink it, for I will stand before you.\ Miss Rivers seemed somewhat embarrass- ed, but seeing my honest, grave and anxious face, she burst into an intolerable fit of laughter, and begged me to drink it for her. Now; I had never drank a glass of punch in my life; but fearing the lady would laugh at me, withuot hesitation I swallowed the con- tents of the glass. c Shortly after this, I observed an unusial degree of commotion throughout the draw- ing-rooms; music struck up, and a dance was called. I thought of my proficiency .in the \pigeon-wing\ and @double-shufflc,\ and was anxious for an opportunity of display- ing my agility-but resolved to await the second dance. x \Why they are playing psalm tunes,\ thought I observing none move faster than n slow walk. | \I should think they wereall frightened to death; but I will show them how the thingis done.\ _. fou T- watch2d every movement, and when the - All was now noise and confusion, and feel- 'dance was completed, I requested the honor rmpmy VOL I NO.4. , of dancing with Miss Rive %, She being the only lady with whom I was acquainted. The lady very politely consented. ~I led her into the centre of the room, made two slides and bows, placed myself in the third, position, and awaited the call of the musician, I began now to feel the effects of the punch, and it was with difficulty that I was able to remain in my awkward attitude. \But the dance will make all right,\ I thought, when the musician calls out, \right and left.\ I started at once, eager for the dance, but was detained by my partner, who informed me that my turn had not yet come. 29 At the call of \side couples right and left,\\ I jamped three feet into the air, strained ev- ery uerve, and went to work, and, much to my satisfaction, found myself in my place again. ~Elated with my success, and excited by the punch, I turned to Miss Rivers, and asked if there was not \any down in the mid- dle\ to this dance. - - \No she replied. \Oh! I am. great in that. could see me.\ . \How well you dance! Mr. Simpson.\ \Do you think sot Youshall see me cut a 'pigeon-wing,' presenitly,\\I replied. \Forward and back, and cross over,\ call- ed the rnusician. -__ -' Away I started, and as I got opposite my partner-\now is the time,\ thought I ''to take the 'pigeon-wing.'\ Springing from the floor with all my strength, I made a flou- rish with my feet as I came down, but the carpet proved a slippery foundation-my heels flew up-I lost my equilibrium, and fell prostrate on the floor. My feet came in con- tact with those of a servant's, who was hand- ing about ice creams; the force of my fall was so powerful, thatI upset the servant, and the contents of the waiter came tumbling into my face and eyes. Mistaking the fri- gidity of the ice-creaims for boiling water, I bellowed most lustily, that I was scalded; but recovering my feet, and observing the whole assembly laughing at my misfortune, I made . a desperate push for the door. \y Rushing down stairs, I-miet another ser- vant, coming up with wine and lemonade; I served him as I served his fellow; and, amid the crashing of glasses, and the screams and shouts of, the company, I rushed into the street, and paused not until I had arrived in my chamber, where, overcome with grief and shame, I threw myself upon my bed, was soon asleep, and awoke the next morn- ing, firmly resolved never to enter a fashion- able party again. x. The Poetry of Life.-We hear a 'great : deal of the philosophy of. life-the poétry 'of . life is equally real, and far more generally diffused. Itis that spirit which mingles itself with all our hopes, affections,; sorrows, and © even death, and beautifies them all, - It min- gles itself with the ambition of aspirants in every honorable track-with the emotions of the lover, with the ardor of the hero, till it covers the battle field pit.from_ his shows him only the halo of glory-with the patriotism of the rightcous statesman-with all our social attachments and intercourse, and spreads the roses of heaven on the bea» > ten path of our daily life. No human spe- culation, no human pursuit, no human feel- ing, which is not utterly selfish and base, but draws fire and force from this spirit-and is borne by its elating influence towards its le- gitimate end. It is impossible to point out - any nation that has become great, or even successful for a time, without it. Of the an- cient nations we need not speak-in all, of which we know anything but the barest facts, poetry, and the intense desire of glory, which cannot exist totally distinct from poetical feeling, were found. . From some of them what have we not. received ! The verySara- cens, when under Mahomet, they suddenly overflowed Asia, Africa, and part of Europe, . were set on fire by the poetic charms of his new paradise: the Teutons, that extinguish- I wish you \ed the last sparks of the Roman empire, and laid the foundations of the present European kingdoms, were not led hither merely for food-it was Valhalla, and the poetic legends of their Scald, that armed and animated them. We cannot'take poetry fra life, without reducing it the level of animal stupidity. In our days, stupendous events have passed on the face of the civilized world, and equally extranrdinary has been the de- velopement of poctic power, A hostof great names will be left to posterity, and with them a host of new impulses that will fill futurity ' with increase of light and happiness ; and as - christianity becomes better understood, as our natures become better understood, as the spirit of love begins to predominate over the spirit of selfishness, and the true ffiefiy of life, and its power, shall be more and more acknowledged. - Men will feel that in aspir- ing after true honor-in desiring to become benefactors of men-to spread knowledge and intellectual beauty, they are but giving exercise to the divine. spivitof potery which is sent down from:-heaven to warm ard em- bellish every human heart, though often un- seen and undcknowledged ; and they will work in the spirit of love and in its enjoy» ment.-4 day. Dream at Tintagel, by W. Howitt. ~ ~ Southampton, Mass., is said to have given birth to tiwenty-cight, clergyman now living. An association was lately formed by them, which is to meet every three years on the day after the commencement of Amherst college. Whig love of order.-Mt. Morris, U. S. Senator from Ohio, was recently assaulted 'in. the street by a Mr. Abrams, and severely ' | beaten---and in the evening about 100 whigs assembled to celebrate the event.-Bost, Post. During the late riots at Baltimore, a 'colo- red man who had been struck on the head with a brick bat, exclaimed,. hat gemmen throw that last brick? Ho only-say who'the. wur, I no expose-him.\ UL. *.: % a + \ ~ /
