APHORISMS.

BY JOSEPH Ᏼ Ꭺ Ꭱ Ꭲ Ꮮ Ꭼ Ꭲ Ꭲ .

I. HAPPINESS.

ALL men are equally happy. We judge from appearances, but could we examine each other's relative situation, and look into each other's heart, not one in a million would be willing to exchange with his neighbor. We know our own miseries, but are unacquainted with the distresses of others.

HAPPINESS is an ignis fatuus, pursued by all, never overtaken by any one; when it appears within our reach, a moment's reflection finds it at a great distance.

"He who breathes, must suffer,

And he who thinks, must mourn."

THE first pursuit of man is happiness. Each takes a different road. All at last meet at the goal of disappoint

ment.

II. VANITY.

MEN usually wish to be considered to excel in those qualities which they do not possess. The celebrated Dr. Johnson, so clumsy in his deportment and awkward in his behavior, in early life was more solicitous to be considered as a graceful dancer, and possessing easy manners, than as a man of science.

MEN will sooner give large sums to erect a monument and endow hospitals, to emblazon their names, than spare a cent to the miserable mendicant, asking alms at their door.

A " cup of cold water in love," will be more favorably registered by Deity, than millions expended under the influence of vanity.

THE man, who boasts of his knowledge, is usually ig norant, and wishes to blind the eyes of his hearer.

III. FRIENDSHIP.

FRIENDSHIP is in every person's mouth, but little understood and less practiced. It does not consist in great dinners, or words, or unmeaning smiles. Show me the man, who will break his last loaf with me, and I will call that man my friend.

OBLIGATIONS can never exist between friends.

CONFIDENCE is the cement of friendship.

IV. WOMAN.

WOMEN generally possess less charity than men, towards the foibles of their own sex.

THE man, who wishes for popularity, must please the women. They are either ardent friends or implacable enemies.

A WOMAN destitute of morals, will be more atrocious in her vices than a man: DEVILS were made from Angels.

V. RICHES.

A RICH man, who considers himself as the almoner of Heaven, is a bank of benevolence, in which every distressed son and daughter of Adam is a stockholder, and they are certain that their drafts will receive due honor.

A RICH poor man is the most indigent of all men. He feasts on gold, and starves in the midst of plenty.

APHORISMS.

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RICHES, when improperly acquired, or too grudgingly distributed, will carry a worm of poverty at the root, which will be severely realized by the father or his children.

VI, SLANDER.

WHENEVER you find a man endeavoring to destroy or lessen the reputation of another, be certain his own character is desperate.

THE FIRST FLOWER.

BY MRS. EUNICE Ꭲ . DANIELS.

ERE melts the dews in liquid showers,
Or trees their vernal robes renew,
The first-born of the race of flowers
Spreads to the sky its answering blue.
Born of the sun's first genial kiss,

That woos to love the chaste, cold earth;
Sweet bud of hope! a nameless bliss
Thrills the warm heart to hail thy birth.

I find thee in the leafless wild,

Beside the snow-wreath blossoming,
As Winter, in his dotage mild,

Would ape the brighter robe of Spring.
Or the soft south, in wayward mood,
While loitering by the rocky cleft,
Amid its dreary solitude

This frail and sweet memorial left.

No warbler of the glades is near,

No scented shrub or floweret fair;
But glittering flake and ice-pearl clear,
Thy chill and mute companions are.
But the same power ordained thy birth,
And tinged thy soft, cerulean eye,
That poised in space this mighty earth,
And hung its quenchless lamps on high

And in each cup, each tinted grace,

Each leaf thy mossy stem uprears,

The moulding of that hand I trace,
That fashioned in their pride the spheres.

Yet art thou frail! thy transient hour
Of bloom and beauty will be o'er,

Ere spring shall dress the green-wood bower,
And spread her bright voluptuous store.

Even now thy hues are in their wane,
Thou first-born of the race of flowers!
Go! thou shalt bloom on earth again,
Unlike the loved and lost of ours.

Soon after Emmet commenced his practice in Dublin, he rose to distinction at the Irish Bar. He rode the Circuit, and commanded a full share of business and confidence. He was the circuit and term companion of Curran, and even in Ireland, if I may credit the information of several Irish gentlemen, was his superior in talents, legal attainments, and general information. But while fame and wealth were attending his ardent efforts at the bar, and the proudest seats of office and honor seemed not too high for his capacity and his aspirations, the gloom that overclouded his country—her long past sufferings-the dark and cheerless prospect that opened upon her destinies, engrossed the constant thoughts of all her patriots, and commanded the intense contemplation of every intelligent friend of his native soil. The French Revolution had burst forth on Europe like a volcano. It rent asunder the political relations which had endured for ages, tore up ancient institutions by the roots, and overturned the most arbitrary throne on the Continent, if we except that of the Emperor of all the Russias. It was hailed in Ireland as the day-spring of hope and freedom, and diffused over that green and beautiful island, a silent but enthusiastic expectation of deliverance. Ireland was well prepared for a complete political change, and an introduction of a new government. Her condition, in this respect, presented a most auspicious and cheering state of things. Protestants and Catholics, all