The Massachusetts spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1831-1858, 1832-08-08

cord she goes back to her friends, and tells
them what has occurred These subsequently,
repair in body 10 the husbands house, and
question him in formal manner whether it is
his desire that his wife should continue to abide
with them; if so, the connection is forthwith
dissolved, and she is again considered 10 the
light of an unmarried woman. The children,
Cf any, the mother is by means permitted
to take along with her, but they are left behind
with their father. who delivers them over to
the care Of his other women. t
THE SERAPH AND THE MORTAL.
FROM THE FREkcH
The theatre - in Paris WINS crowded. with
brilliant assemblage TO witness the represen.
tation of young girl, celebrated for her beau
", virtue, artless innocence, and extraordinary
taIents. The critics of that famed met ropois
had never witnessed loveliness and genius so
universally acknowledged and admired The
highest ranks wed with each other in praisinp
her charms her wonderful skill IN music-lhe
voice which nature had bestowed upon her a
precious gift CORES poHding with the rare grace
OF her person and the brancy of her mind
IL was whispered abroad that she had received
offers Of marriage from the loftiest in wealth
and rank-that the choicest spirits of the age
courted her society, and were spell-hound by
her destinations Royalty itself had sanctioned
the general opinion Never had Paris seen an
iHuifioudi Wiiose appearance was gIcetcu WIN
more rapturous acclamations.
The 'oprra proceeded, until the scene appear
ed which was TO introduce the heroine. Long
before she entered. bursts of applause broke
iorth IN various parts of the eager and dense
thrang-there was a moments silence !: and
creature, perfectly and exquisiteiy lovely, sud-
denly shone before them, bending with the
grace of a summer bud amidst the tremendous
peal OF the gathered thousands which burst forth
and died and huyef forfh in md
TIL the dome trembled and the foundation seeni-
ed rent asunder Amid this tumult of enthusi-
asm, stood with folded arms gazing at the
VISION which TO me seemed 10 have Aoated from
the skies. break Of music from the orchestra
announced iavorite air. and she came forward
to the stage-bghts to sing. Not in the depths
OF the green forest in the hush of noon not in
the desert in its wide desolatIon-not in the
dark tomb itself, could reign silence more per-
| fect :han hung over the vast multitude. 1t
seemed as if the light and beautiful being, whose
lofty plumes Of snow bent down above radiant
face, was an enchantress. and by some potent
spell had struck each one into statue, with the
cooring and attitude and expression of life.
And then when the last notes, which seemed
waibled from the throat of nightingale, had
passed away, the silence for a moment ceatinu-
ed, MS if one dared disturb the air on which
yet hung the echo of the most delicious notes
ever heard by mortals. | thought TO myself, if
fate would give such creature to me The
idea haunted me ! loved her; was wretched
! Three years after | met her in London. Dis
NAL! l could not believe my own eyes. There
the same face-but all the glory was gone.
| Ii dimmed and obscured The seraph had
sunk into the mortal 1t was the sun shorn of
his beams. 1t was the angel fallen, whose
brightness not the same. had Just mar
ried an ar;ess girl, whose modesty shrank from
every eve but mine, who could neither Dance
mi clp alan int Vt
pened that we embarked together on voyage
Of some length | had every opportunity OF
judging of the character Of my fair enchantress
II was dreadful. | shuddered at the escape l
had made. How many man is rendered mis-.
cradle by falling in love with beauty and ac.
coinplishments, instead of mind and soul.
The LIGHT OF NATURE. The celebrated
Mr.. Hume wrote essay on the sufficiency Of
the light of nature, and the no less celebrated
Robertson wrote on the necessity of revelation
and the insuf6ciency Of the light of nature.
Hume came one evening 10 visit Robertson,
and The evening spent on this subject.
The friends Of both were present, and il is said
that Robertson reasoned with unusual cfearness
and power. If Hume convinced by his
| reasoning, he did not acknowledge il. He was,
however, much Of gentleman. and as he rose
to depart, bowed politely To those in the room,
| while, as he retired through the door, Robert.
son took the light to show him the way
Hume was still facing the door &" Oh, SIR"
said he TO Robertson, " find the light Of ma
ture always sufficient; pray don't trouble your.
self. SIT" and bowed on. The street door was
opened and as he passed along in the entry he
stumbled over something concea led, and pitch
ed down the stairs into the street Robertson
ran after him with the light, and as he held it
| over him, softy and cunningiy whispered, ,
"You had better have little light from above,
| friend Hume !" and raising him up, he bid him
/ good night and returned TO his friends,
RELIGION. The spirit of true religion
breathes gentleness and affability. 1t is social,
/ kind, and cheerful; far removed from that
! gloomy and lliberal superstition which clouds
! the brows, sharpenE the temper defects the
! spirits, and teaches men 10 fit themselves for
another world by negecting the concerns OF
! this. Let your religion. on the contrary, con-
| meet preparation for heaven with an honorable
! discharge of the duties of active life. OF such
| religion discover every occasion that you
| are not ashamed but avoid making any osten.
tation Of it before the worid-Blair,
PUNSISG. Punning is sometimes .frnitfit
occupation A London paper states that in ihs
rush that took place evening at the Com
mons, Sir Charles Lemon came in for squeeze
which he said played the juice with him.
him, there's Peel as badly of and here an
], ciril 0raageman, suffering as others do b.
the press but ii is fruittess to let ourselves b
soured"
ANY THING IN REASON. Go up and han
tho royar said officer on ship board to DO,
who had never before "swan in a salt pond
1t was in thu night. Sir answered the lad IL
qulringly. The officer repeated the order. An
thing in reason, Captain, any thing in reaso
said the BOY, but as to climbing them rope la,
ders such dark night us this, shant do il
MAY, is considered by the superstitious as
unlucky month to marry, or as the Scotch sa
uncannie." A lady, who was courted in Apr
being solicited by her lover, 10 name the day
tho following month for the wedding, repli
a that May, was an unfortunate month AT
being asked TO name il in June, asked il ZIP
y would not sui, Just as well
d. An Italian used to say that wine had the
D two discomniodiiies--n you put water into
as you mar ii; and II you put none in II, you II
re- yourself