ble to put a great and true difference between man and man; and whosoever gains the advantage there, has reason to value it, though it will never make him proud.

But, as Pride, "exalteth herself," so, she is the means of her own downfall. At the moment when she glorifies herself, and lives deliciously; when she sits as a queen, and thinks that she shall see no sorrow, the day of her disgrace is at hand-the hour approaches, when in the bitterness of her heart she shall own, that all her pomp and pageantry, were but contemptible baubles, and that the fruit of vanity is vexation of spirit.

The foregoing observations, arose very naturally from a serious consideration of the case of INDIANA, as related by her, in a former number. I can now, more readily than at first, view her failings with an eye of unqualified compassion; with sensations of pity, untinctured by a sentiment of severe animadversion. Young ladies of her description, are too frequently taught to be proud.It is often an essential article in their system of education, to teach them to estimate men by their rank, and themselves, by their fortunes and accomplishments; the first of which, are always over-rated, and the last, in general, superficial and imperfect. To this defect of education, may be attributed the complaints, which men in a "middle station of life" frequently make, that instead of a good help-mate they have obtained only an affectionate wife. After marriage, the pretty accomplishments, that attracted attention, are generally forgotten. The object being gained, the means become no longer necessary. The piano forte, the guitar, and the song are neglected. But what domestic duties are assumed and practised in their stead? We presume, that from henceforth, the good-man, no more is to complain of ill-made shirts ;-that he no more is to be seen with holes in his stockings. His house is to be kept in nice order; every thing in its place; all is to be regularity, neatness and economy. I hope so. That there are as many amiable and lovely women in this place, under all circumstances, and in proportion to their number, as in any

other, is a truth, that no one will wish or venture to deny.
And, were a proper degree of attention always paid to form-
ing and directing the young and tender mind, no one can
doubt, that the exceptions to the general excellence of the
female character would be very few and rare. When infants,
who can scarcely lisp, are committed to a stranger's care;
when girls who can scarcely spell, are induced to think that
dancing is a superior accomplishment to reading, and that
beauty and wealth are ample substitutes for wisdom and vir-
tue; when dress and gew-gaws, are esteemed the most im-
portant objects of a female's consideration, and a husband,
the only article wanting to complete her triumphs and her
happiness, it is not to be wondered at, that we find some
"over-grown children" very proud, very ignorant, and very
ill-qualified to make good wives, when they shall be old e-
nough to enter the marriage state. It is the particular mis-
fortune of such young candidates for the nuptial couch,-that
this awkward age, when a female is neither girl, nor woman,
"the Lord knows what," should not be duly and continually
superintended and watched over by the correcting eye of an
experienced preceptress. We may be thankful, that in many
cases, this opportunity of fixing the disposition is improved,
by the ladies who have undertaken the task of educating the
female youth: But when it is neglected, miserable indeed
must be the consequences!

My readers will, I hope, pardon me for having enlarged
on a theme, concerning which so many better observations
have been made by the ablest moralists of ancient and mod-
ern times. The happiness of some of my fellow creatures
may, perhaps, be affected by a "good word told in season,”.
and as, in this world, Pride is an evil weed, that is never out
of season, if my humble endeavor to eradicate a single root,
be crowned with success, I shall have the satisfaction of be-
lieving, that by the same effort, I have cleared a spot where
the rose of contentment will bloom and flourish in perennial
luxuriance.
DAN SPONDEE.

LETTERS ON MYTHOLOGY.

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF C. A. DEMOUSTIER.

LETTER XXXVIII.

HISTORY OF AURORA.

WHAT shall be our theme to-day, my Emilia? Shall it be the history of Aurora? Of course, you are well aware that by the history of a pretty woman, we all understand it to be that of her loves.

The generality of authors assure us that Aurora is the child of the Sun and the Earth; others make her the offspring of Titan however, both opinions may be called the same, since Titan is synonymous with that famous giant, who in his brilliant career enlightens and fertilizes the world at that charming moment when the Sun quits the bed of Thetis, Aurora mounts her gilded car, and seizes the vermillion reins of her two snowy coursers. As her wheels roll on, they leave a bright track in the heavens, in which the shades of purple and azure are lightly mixed with gold. The goddess soon reaches the transparent gate of the east, and opens them with her rosy fingers; she then seats herself upon a thin wreath of mist, and waits with impatience for the coming of her father. The ravishing harmony of the celestial spheres rings around her; she listens, and through the soft sounds fancies she hears the neighing of the horses of the Sun. Her heart palpitates with hope and joy: she continues to gaze, and at last distinguishes through a glittering vapor, the ardent Pirois, the swift Eous, the thundering Ethon, and the formidable Phlegon. At the next glance she perceives Apollo himseif, who holds in his immortal hands the traces of fire. At that sight the daughter of day blushes with pleasure and tenderness fall from her beautiful eyes. The Zephyrs hasten to catch these balmy drops upon their wings, and then fly to diffuse them over the flowers of earth.

Thus, fairest Emilia, when I come under your balcony to offer you a nosegay gathered at the mist of early morning,

should you observe in the present, as it trembles in my doubtful hand, some drops of the yet lingering dew, refuse it not; think that every flower owes its freshness and the rich perfume to filial piety.

For a long time Aurora, happy in loving her father, lived without imagining that there existed any other sort of love; when, by chance, she saw in the plains of Troy, the beautiful Tithon, son of Laomedon, and brother of Priam, king of the Trojans. In a former letter I have told you that she carried him away, married him, rendered him immortal, yet saw him grow old in eight days, and then changed him into a grasshopper. Thus Aurora knew love only as a bright dream: but though she ceased to be a wife, she became a mother; and the son who renewed to her again the features of her husband, was the celebrated Memnon.

From his earliest years Memnon was a hero; but alas ! the perilous road to glory conducted him to death! The Greeks were waiting to besiege Troy; the son of Tithon, the nephew of Priam, hastened with an army to the assistance of that unfortunate prince; but before he could penetrate into the besieged city, Memnon encountered the invincible Achilles, combatted, and fell under his blows.

At

I may not paint to you the despair of Aurora; she covered her bright visage with clouds of impenetrable mourning; and as her tears poured over the fields of earth, their bitterness withered every flower and green herb. In short, her affliction spread gloom over the whole face of nature. length Jupiter consoled her, by promising that her son should re-appear under a different form. In effect, when the fire consumed the body of Memnon, two white birds were seen to rise from the funeral pile, to which were given the name of Memnonides. These birds multiplied in a very short time, and flew into divers regions. But, if we may believe Pliny, and other writers of antiquity, every year, at the same day, the Memnonides assemble all together at the tomb of Memnon, as if to combat in honor of his memory, and pour a libation of their blood over his insensible ashes. Some few po

ets assure us that the annual visit of these birds is made for the purpose of weeding with their beaks the turf that covers the solitary mound of Memnon, and of watering it with their wings, which they have previously dipped in the river Asopus.

In process of time, a statue of black marble was erected to Memnon, by which he was represented sitting, his head raised, and his mouth half open, as if just going to speak. No sooner did the first ray of Aurora strike the body of this statue, than it took a smiling air, and appeared to warm into life: the ray touched the mouth, and then there proceeded from it a sound exquisitely tender and harmonious, which seemed to bid a welcome to his mother. In the evening, when Aurora went to enlighten another hemisphere, a feeble and plaintive sigh appeared to say, "Adieu my mother!"

Such, my Emilia, was the celebrated statue of Memnon, which I am very often made to resemble by your means. When I prepare to visit you I have a thousand things to say. -You appear, I hesitate, I sigh, I remain trembling at your feet, and might very well pass for a marble image: but if you cast a glance on this animated marble, if you smile-that smile, that glance suffice to make the statue speak-Adieu.

LETTER XXXIX.

HISTORY OF AURORA CONTINUED.

AGITATED by the sweet remembrance of her first love, Aurora perceived one morning the youthful Cephalus upon the top of Mount Hymethos. Cephalus, who was a son of Dioneus, king of Phocis, had married Procris, daughter of Erechtheus, king of Athens. They were united by that conjugal tenderness in which they gloried formerly, and at which they blush to-day In vain did Aurora with all her charms, try to render Cephalus unfaithful. At length resolving to triumph over his resistance, she carried him off; but hearts are not so easily borne away; and that of Cephalus remained with his dear Procris.

After many useless attempts to retain him in her chains a willing captive, Aurora restored him to his wife, with these alarming words: "Bitterly shall you repent one day having