THE PRAISE OF WOMEN.

An Old English Ballad.

Both sexes, give ear to my fancy,
While the praise of a woman I sing
Confined not to Polly nor Nancy,

But alike from the beggar to king.
When Adam at first was created,

And lord of the universe crowned,
His happiness was not completed,
Because a help-meet was not found.
He had all things that were wanting,
Which yield us contentment in life;
Both horses and foxes for hunting,
Which many love more than a wife.
A garden, so planted by nature,
Man could not produce in his life;
And yet the all-wise Creator

Saw that he wanted a wife.

Old Adam was cast into slumber,
A rib taken out of his side;
And when he awoke in a wonder,

He beheld his most beautiful bride.
With transport he gazed upon her,-
His happiness now was complete:
He praised the all-bountiful Donor,
Who thus had provided a mate.
She was not taken out of his head,
To rule and triumph over man;
Nor was she taken out of his heel,
To be ruled and trampled upon.
But she was taken out of his side,
His equal companion to be;
And thus they both were united,
And man is the top of the tree.
Then let not the fair be despised

By man, for she's part of himself;
Since woman by Adam was prized

More than the whole world full of wealth.

For man without woman's a beggar,

Although the whole world he possessed; And the beggar who has a good wife,

With more than this world he is blest.

PARALLEL OF THE SEXES.

There is an admirable partition of qualities between the sexes, which the great Author of being has distributed to each with a wisdom which calls for our admiration. Man is strong,

-woman is beautiful. Man is daring and confident,—woman is diffident and unassuming. Man is great in action,-woman, in suffering. Man shines abroad,-woman, at home. Man talks to convince,-woman, to persuade and please. Man has a rugged heart,—woman, a soft and tender one. Man prevents misery,-woman relieves it. Man has science,—woman, taste. Man has judgment,-woman, sensibility. Man is a being of justice, woman, of mercy.

FEMALE SOCIETY.

The following remarks come with peculiar force from one of such querulous and unconnubial habits as John Randolph :—

You know my opinion of female society: without it we should degenerate into brutes. This observation applies with tenfold force to young men, and those who are in the prime of manhood. For, after a certain time of life, the literary man makes a shift (a poor one, I grant) to do without the society of ladies. To a young man nothing is so important as a spirit of devotion (next to his Creator) to some amiable woman, whose image may occupy his heart and guard it from the pollution that besets it on all sides. A man ought to choose his wife as Mrs Primrose did her wedding-gown,-for qualities that will "wear well." One thing at least is true, that, if matrimony has its cares, celibacy has no pleasures. A Newton, or a mere scholar, may find enjoyment in study; a man of literary taste can receive in books a powerful auxiliary; but a man must have a bosom friend, and children around him, to cherish and support the dreariness of old age.

WIFE MISTRESS-LADY.

Who marries for love takes a wife; who marries for convenience takes a mistress; who marries from consideration takes a lady. You are loved by your wife, regarded by your mis

tress, tolerated by your lady. You have a wife for yourself, a mistress for your house and its friends, a lady for the world. Your wife will agree with you, your mistress will accommodate you, your lady will manage you. Your wife will take care of your household, your mistress of your house, your lady of appearances. If you are sick, your wife will nurse you, your mistress will visit you, your lady will inquire after your health. You take a walk with your wife, a ride with your mistress, and join parties with your lady. Your wife will share your grief, your mistress your money, and your lady your debts. If you are dead, your wife will shed tears, your mistress lament, and your lady wear mourning. From the German.

MY MOTHER.

That was a thrilling scene in the old chivalric time-the wine circling around the board, and the banquet-hall ringing with sentiment and song-when, the lady of each knightly heart having been pledged by name, St. Leon arose in his turn, and, lifting the sparkling cup on high, said,—

"I drink to one

Whose image never may depart,
Deep graven on this grateful heart,
Till memory is dead;

To one whose love for me shall last

When lighter passions long have passed,

So holy 'tis, and true;

To one whose love hath longer dwelt,
More deeply fixed, more keenly felt,

Than any pledge to you."

Each guest upstarted at the word,
And laid his hand upon his sword,
With fury-flashing eye;

And Stanley said, "We crave the name,
Proud knight, of this most peerless dame,
Whose love you count so high."

St. Leon paused, as if he would

Not breathe her name in careless mood

Thus lightly to another,

Then bent his noble head, as though
To give that word the reverence due,
And gently said, "MY MOTHER!"

LETTER TO A BRIDE.

The following letter was written by an old friend to a young lady on the eve of her wedding day :—

I have sent you a few flowers to adorn the dying moments of your single life. They are the gentlest types of delicate and durable friendship. They spring up by our side when others have deserted it; and they will be found watching over our graves when those who should cherish have forgotten us. It seems that a past, so calm and pure as yours, should expire with a kindred sweetness about it,-that flowers and music, kind friends and earnest words, should consecrate the hour when a sentiment is passing into a sacrament.

The three great stages of our being are the birth, the bridal, and the burial. To the first we bring only weakness-for the last we have nothing but dust! But here at the altar, when life joins life, the pair come throbbing up to the holy man, whispering the deep promise that arms each other's heart, to help on in the life-struggle of care and duty. The beautiful will be there, borrowing new beauty from the scene. The gay and thoughtless, with their flounces and frivolities, will look solemn for once. Youth will come to gaze upon the object of its secret yearnings; and age will totter up to hear the words repeated that to their own lives had given the charm. Some will weep over it as if it were a tomb, and some laugh over it as if it were a joke; but two must stand by it, for it is fate, not fun, this everlasting locking of their lives.

And now, can you, who have queened it over so many bending forms, can you come down at last to the frugal diet of a single heart? Hitherto you have been a clock, giving your time to all the world. Now you are a watch, buried in one particular bosom, warming only his breast, marking only his hours, and ticking only to the beat of his heart-where time. and feeling shall be in unison, until those lower ties are lost in that higher wedlock, where all hearts are united.

Hoping that calm and sunshine may hallow your clasped hands, I sink silently into a signature.

***

Moslem Wisdom.

SHREWD DECISION OF ALI, CALIPH OF BAGDAD.

In the Preliminary Dissertation to Dr. Richardson's Arabic Dictionary the following curious anecdote is recorded :—

Two Arabians sat down to dinner: one had five loaves, the other three. A stranger passing by desired permission to eat with them, which they agreed to. The stranger dined, laid down eight pieces of money, and departed. The proprietor of the five loaves took up five pieces and left three for the other, who objected, and insisted on having one-half. The cause came before Ali, who gave the following judgment :-" Let the owner of the five loaves have seven pieces of money, and the owner of the three loaves one; for, if we divide the eight loaves by three, they make twenty-four parts; of which he who laid down the five loaves had fifteen, while he who laid down three had only nine. As all fared alike, and eight shares was each man's proportion, the stranger ate seven parts of the first man's property, and only one belonging to the other. The money, in justice, must be divided accordingly."

THE WISDOM OF ALI.

The Prophet once, sitting in calm debate,
Said, "I am Wisdom's fortress; but the gate
Thereof is Ali." Wherefore, some who heard,
With unbelieving jealousy were stirred;
And, that they might on him confusion bring,
Ten of the boldest joined to prove the thing.
"Let us in turn to Ali go," they said,
"And ask if Wisdom should be sought instead
Of earthly riches; then, if he reply

To each of us, in thought, accordantly,

And yet to none in speech or phrase the same,
His shall the honor be, and ours the shame."
Now, when the first his bold demand did make,
These were the words which Ali straightway spake:-