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"Ah!" said the Druid with a sigh, "you are both of you, my brethren, in the right, and both of you in the wrong. Had either of you given himself time to look at the (.. ) side of the shield, as well as that which first presented itself to view, all this passion and bloodshed might have been ( . ). However, there is a very good lesson to be learned from the evils that have befallen you on this occasion. therefore, to entreat you never to enter into any ( for the future, till you have fairly considered both sides of the question."

Permit me,

BEAUMONT.

),

LESSON CLXIX.

A LEAF FROM THE LIFE OF A LOOKING-GLASS.

Ir being very much the custom, as I am informed, even for obscure individuals to furnish some account of themselves, for the edification of the public, I hope I shall not be deemed impertinent for calling your attention to a few particulars of my own history. I cannot, indeed, boast of any very extraordinary incidents; but having had, during the course of a long life, much leisure and opportunity for observation, and being naturally of a reflecting cast, I thought it might be in my power to offer some remarks that may not be wholly unprofitable to your readers.

My earliest recollection is that of the work-shop of a carver and gilder, where I remained for many months, leaning with my face to the wall; and, having never known any livelier scene, I was very well contented with my quiet condition. The first object that I remember to have arrested my attention, was what I now believe must have been a large spider, which, after a vast deal of scampering about, began, very deliberately, to weave a curious web all over my face. This afforded me great amusement, and, not then knowing what far lovelier objects were destined to my gaze, I did not resent the indignity.

At length, when little dreaming of any change of fortune, I felt myself suddenly removed from my station; and immediately afterward, underwent a curious operation, which, at

the time, gave me considerable apprehensions for my safety. These were succeeded by pleasure, upon finding myself arrayed in a broad, black frame, handsomely carved and gilt; for, you will please to observe that the period, of which I am now speaking, was upward of fourscore years ago. This process being finished, I was presently placed in the shop window, with my face to the street, which was one of the most public in the city. Here my attention was, at first, distracted by the constant succession of objects that passed before me. But it was not long before I began to remark the considerable degree of attention I myself excited; and how much I was distinguished in this respect, from the other articles, my neighbors, in the shop window.

me, the

I observed, that passengers, who appeared to be posting away upon urgent business, would often turn and give me a friendly glance as they passed. But I was particularly gratified to observe, that, while the old, the shabby, and the wretched, seldom took any notice of young, the gay, and the handsome, generally paid me this compliment; and that these good-looking people always seemed the best pleased with me; which I attributed to their superior discernment. I well remember one young lady, who used to pass my master's shop regularly every morning, in her way to school, and who never omitted to turn her head to look at me as she went by; so that, at last, we became well acquainted with each other. I must confess, that at this period of my life, I was in great danger of becoming insufferably vain, from the regards that were then paid me; and, perhaps, I am not the only individual, who has formed mistaken notions of the attentions he receives in society.

My vanity, however, received a considerable check from one circumstance. Nearly all the goods by which I was sur rounded in the shop window,-though, many of them, mucl more homely in their structure, and humble in their destina tions, were disposed of sooner than myself. I had the mortiacation of seeing one after another bargained for and sent away, while I remained, month after month, without a purchaser. At last, however, a gentleman and lady from the country, who had been standing some time in the street, inspecting, and, as I perceived, conversing about me, walked into the shop; and,

after some altercation with my master, agreed to purchase me; upon which I was packed up, and sent off. I was very curious, you may suppose, upon arriving at my new quarters, to see what kind of life I was likely to lead. I remained, however, some time, unmolested in my packing-case, and very flat I felt there.

Upon being unpacked, I found myself in the hall of a large, lone house in the country. My master and mistress, I soon learned, were new married people, just setting up housekeeping; and I was intended to decorate their best parlor, to which I was presently conveyed, and, after some little discussion between them in fixing my longitude and latitude, I was hung up opposite the fire-place, in an angle of ten degrees from the wall, according to the fashion of those times. And there I hung, year after year, almost in perpetual solitude. My master and mistress were sober, regular, old-fashioned people. They saw no company, except at fair-time and Christmas-day; on which occasions, only, they occupied the best parlor. My countenance used to brighten up, when I saw the annual fire kindled in that ample grate, and when a cheerful circle of country cousins assembled round it. At those times I always got a little notice from the young folks; but, those festivities over, I was condemned to another half year of complete loneliness.

How familiar to my recollection, at this hour, is that large, old-fashioned parlor! I can remember, as well as if I had seen them but yesterday, the noble flowers on the crimson damask chair-covers and window-curtains; and those curiously carved tables and chairs. I could describe every one of the stories on the Dutch tiles that surrounded the grate, the rich China ornaments on the wide mantel-piece, and the pattern of the paper hangings, which consisted alternately of a parrot, a poppy, and a shepherdess; a parrot, a poppy, and a shepherdess.

The room being so little used, the window-shutters were rarely opened; but there were three holes cut in each, in the shape of a heart, through which, day after day, and year after year, I used to watch the long, dim, dusty sunbeams, streaming across the dark parlor. I should mention, however, that I seldom missed a short visit from my master and mistress on a Sunday morning, when they came down stairs ready dressed

for church. I can remember how my mistress used to trot in upon her high-heeled shoes; unfold a leaf of one of the shutters; then come and stand straight before me; then turn half round to the right and left; never failing to see if the corner of her well-starched handkerchief was pinned exactly in the middle. I think I can see her now, in her favorite dove-colored lustring, (which she wore every Sunday in every summer, for seven years, at the least,) and her long, full ruffles, and worked apron. Then followed my good master, who, though his visit was somewhat shorter, never failed to come and settle his Sunday wig before me.

Time rolled away, and my master and mistress, with all that appertained to them, insensibly suffered from its influence. When I first knew them, they were a young, blooming couple as you would wish to see; but I gradually perceived an alteration. My mistress began to stoop a little; and my master got a cough, which troubled him, more or less, to the end of his days. At first, and for many years, my mistress' foot upon the stairs was light and nimble, and she would come in as blithe and as brisk as a lark; but, at last, it was a slow, heavy step; and even my master's began to totter. And, in these respects, every thing else kept pace with them. that I remembered so fresh and bright, was now faded and worn; the dark polished mahogany was, in some places, worm eaten; the parrot's gay plumage on the walls grew dull; and I myself, though long unconscious of it, partook of the universal decay.

The crimson damask,

The dissipated taste I acquired upon my first introduction to society, had, long since, subsided; and the quiet, somber life I led, gave me a grave, meditative turn. The change, which I witnessed in all things around me, caused me to reflect much on their vanity; and when, upon the occasions before-mentioned, I used to see the gay, blooming faces of the young, saluting me with so much complacence, I would fain have admonished them of the alteration they must soon undergo, and have told them how certainly their bloom, also, must fade away as a flower. But, alas! you know, looking-glasses can only reflect.

JANE TAYLOR.

LESSON CLXX.

THE FIRST GRAY HAIR.

THE matron at her mirror, with her hand upon her brow,
Sits gazing on her lovely face, ay, lovely even now;
Why doth she lean upon her hand with such a look of care?
Why steals that tear across her cheek? She sees her first gray

Time from her form hath ta'en away but little of its grace:
His touch of thought hath dignified the beauty of her face;
Yet she might mingle in the dance, where maidens gayly trip,
So bright is still her hazel eye, so beautiful her lip.

The faded form is often marked by sorrow more than years,
The wrinkle on the cheek may be the course of secret tears;
The mournful lip may murmur of a love it ne'er confessed,
And the dimness of the eye betray a heart that cannot rest.

hair.

But she hath been a happy wife: the lover of her youth
May proudly claim the smile that pays the trial of his truth;
A sense of slight, of loneliness, hath never banished sleep:
Her life hath been a cloudless one: then wherefore doth she weep?

She looked upon her raven locks, what thoughts did they recall? Oh! not of nights when they were decked for banquet or for ball; They brought back thoughts of early youth, e'er she had learned to check,

With artificial wreaths, the curls that sported o'er her neck.

She seemed to feel her mother's hand pass lightly through her hair,
And draw it from her brow, to leave a kiss of kindness there;
She seemed to view her father's smile, and feel the playful touch
That sometimes feigned to steal away the curls she prized so much

And now she sees her first gray hair! oh, deem it not a crime For her to weep, when she beholds the first footmark of time! She knows that, one by one, those mute mementos will increase, And steal youth, beauty, strength away, till life itself shall cease.

"T is not the tear of vanity for beauty on the wane;
Yet, though the blossom may not sigh to bud and bloom again,
It cannot but remember, with a feeling of regret,

The spring for ever gone, the summer sun so nearly set

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