ness as Justice of the Peace, and it is frequently the case, in our commercial cities, that ladies keep not only the books, but the purse-strings and consciences of their husbands. The editor of an evening journal informed us a short time since of one Lady Deborah Moody, who was formerly Supervisor of the town of Gravesend, Long Island. The following affords a new instance of their encroachments:

"RIGHTS OF WOMAN.-We learn from the National Intelligencer, that in Fairfax County, Va., a young lady was, on the fourteenth ult., lawfully qualified as a select-man; a situation held by her mother for many years before her."

Indeed, I am confident that their progress toward assimilation had been so far advanced, that had not the gentlemen adopted whiskers by way of distinction, the ladies would by this time have been on a par with them. Even in this particular, however, they bid fair to rival them. No one can doubt the intent of a certain fashion of curls lately disported, which adhere closely to the cheek, and curl down and around in true whiskerandos gracefulness. One or two instances will show conclusively, that the ladies have only to put aside the slight differences in dress which at present distinguish them, to be altogether undistinguishable from their masculine prototypes. It is probably fresh in the memory of every one, that a short time since, a lady was discovered in the port of New-York, attired in a sailor's garb, who had made several voyages most manfully, and without detection. Accident alone led to a discovery of her true sex and character. Several instances of a similar kind occur to me. The following, from the Hancock (Maine) Advertiser, is the latest:

"MARRIAGE EXTRAORDINARY.r.-In Woodstock, N. B. Mr. J. Munson to Mr. Henry Allen. It appears that Munson and S. I. Page, of Hallowell, originally came from Connecticut, and set up business in Hallowell on a very extensive scale. Shortly after, Mr. Page went to Connecticut, and brought back Henry Allen as a clerk in his store. Every body was well pleased with Henry Allen, and he was offered the highest wages when he left Mr. P's employ, but he would listen to no offers but those of Mr. Munson, who was about establishing himself in Houlton. Here again Henry Allen displayed the same activity; exciting the admiration of the men by his judgment in business and knowledge of accounts, for he appeared to be quite young; but the astonishment of the ladies at his accomplishments was without bounds, for no woman in the country could sew, iron, or manage household affairs, equal to Henry Allen, as he frequently exercised his skill in these matters at his boarding-house. But the denouement came at last. He went over to Woodstock with his employer, put on woman's clothes, and was married to him as a Miss - It seems she had been engaged to Munson in Connecticut, but her father refusing to sanction the match, she ran away, and ended the courtship in the above manner."

I think I have thus shewn, though in a manner somewhat desultory, that the ladies are gradually assimilating in their habits and character to the other sex. I forbear to enter upon the inquiry as to the effect which this tendency among the ladies of our own country may have upon the principles and constitution of our government. Come nullification, come consolidation, come what will, may Heaven in its mercy preserve us from the baleful influences of a GYNECOCRACY. Already in our churches, lyceums, and various societies, the ladies take a promi

nent part. They form the main pillars of the Bible Societies, Tract, Missionary, Cent, and Fragment Societies, which link togheter in a union of mighty strength, the feelings and pockets of a great proportion of our Union. Few can resist the ardor of their advances. I myself had the honor of being talked down a few days since by a Committee of Ladies from an excellent Society in New-York "for the Promotion of Knowledge and Industry." In truth, I have heard it intimated, that an attempt was to have been made, on the part of some very influential ladies, to go into coat and pantaloons last spring, but that the intent was defeated by the occurrence of a slight disagreement between the immediate and gradual abolitionists. Apropos, the lady alluded to in the annexed extract, from the Boston Mercantile Journal, probably belonged to the latter party:

"VANDALISM.—It is stated in the Berkshire Advocate, that a young lady of New-York, who wore an ultra-fashionable frock and pantalettes, being on a visit to her friends in New-Jersey, was apprehended and carried before a Dutch magistrate, on a charge of wearing man's apparel! The Goth fined her five dollars and costs, for the breaches of the statute in that case provided."

I shall say no more. My nerves already begin to tremble in view of the momentous revolution which the evidences I have presented seem to indicate. A storm is evidently brewing. A war of rights is pending, and every man will soon have to come out in defence of his ancient prerogatives! For myself, I am compelled to say, that I dread the coming contest, and that right gladly would I shrink from the struggle. Fain would I advise the purchase of an amnesty, by yielding one half of the privileges demanded. But it may not be! The enemy is already flushed with the triumph of successful encroachment, and full of anticipated victory. They have thrown aside the scissors, and their cry is "War to the knife!" We have lingered till it is too late! Scarcely a resource is left us! If we fly, our conquerors will mercilessly invade the sanctuary of our wardrobes, triumphantly wear the badges

of our manhood, and victoriously stand in our shoes. If we stand, we may be slain; and if we resist, even to the death of some of the vindictive assimilators, even victory will prove our defeat, for the viragoes who remain will find triumph and vengeance before the tribunals of our country, in the verdict that finds us guilty of MANSLAUGHTER!

C. P.

WORSHIP BY THE ROSE-TREE.

AUTHOR of beauty, Spirit of Power,

Thou who did'st will that the Rose should be,
Here is the place, and this is the hour

To seek thy presence, and bow to thee.
Bright is the world with the sun's first rays;
Cool is the dew on the soft, green sod,

The Rose-tree blooms, while the birds sing praise,
And earth gives glory to Nature's God.

Under this beautiful work of thine,

The flowery boughs that are bending o'er
The glistening turf, to thy will divine,

I kneel, and its Maker and mine adore!
Thou art around us. Thy robe of light
Touches the gracefully-waving tree,
Turning to jewels the tears of night,

And making the buds unfold to thee.

WHEN the Almighty was about to create Man, he assembled together the archangels in council around him.

"Create him not," said the Angel of Righteousness; "he will be unjust towards his brethren, and will deal hardly and cruelly towards those that are weaker than he."

"Create him not," said the Angel of Peace; "he will fatten the earth with the blood of his fellow-men, and the first-born of his race will slay his brother."

"He will profane thy sanctuary with falsehood," said the Angel of Truth; "even though thou shouldst stamp thine own likeness-the seal of loyalty-upon his countenance."

And as they spake, Mercy, the youngest, dearest child of the Eternal Father, came near to his throne, and embraced his knees, and said;

“Create him, Father, in thine own image, a favorite child of thy goodness. Should all thy servants forsake him, yet will not I forsake him ; but I will be with him in love, and turn even his errors to good. I will make the heart of the weak-one compassionate, and turn him in pity towards those that are weaker. If he wanders from the path of Peace and Truth—if he sins against Righteousness and Justice—the fruits of his errors shall lead him back again, and thus in love improve him.”

The Father of Men created man, a weak and erring creature; but even in his errors, a pupil of his Father's goodness—a son of Mercy— son of a love, that never forsakes him, but ever chastens and improves. Remember, then, thine origin, O man, if thou art merciless and unjust. Of all God's attributes, it was Mercy alone that called thee into being, and Pity and Love nursed thee on their paternal bosoms.

Deep in the midnight, that preceded the festival of Spring, at which the first two sons of the human race were to bring a thank-offering to the creator, their mother saw in sleep a wondrous dream. The white roses, which her younger son had planted around his altar, were changed to blood-stained roses and more fully blown, such as she had never before seen. She tried to pluck them, but they withered beneath her touch. Upon the altar, whereon milk alone was the principal offering, now lay a bleeding lamb. Voices of lamentation were heard around, and amid them one voice of despair, till at last all died away into tones of melody, such as she had never heard before.

And a beautiful plain lay before her-more beautiful even than the Paradise of her youth, and upon it wandered, in the likeness of her son, a shepherd clad in white. The red roses were in his hair, and in his hand he held a harp, from which those tones of melody came forth. He turned affectionately towards her-began to approach—and vanished. With him vanished the dream.

And as the mother awoke, she saw the day-dawn red and blood-like ; and she went forth with a heavy heart to the festival of the thank-offering.

The brothers brought their offerings;-and their parents returned homeward. But at evening their younger son came not back. Full of anxiety, the mother sought for him, and found only his scattered and mournful herd. He himself lay all bloody by the altar; the roses were stained with his blood, and the agonizing voice of Cain rang loud from a neighboring cavern.

Senseless she sank upon the corpse of her son, and a second time the vision appeared to her. The shepherd, whom she saw in that new paradise, was her son. The red roses were in his hair; sweet tones resounded from his harp; and he sweetly sang to her; "Look upward to the stars in heaven; my weeping mother, look upward. Behold yon glittering chariot there; it bears us to other plains, to a more beauteous Paradise, than thou in Eden sawest; where the blood-stained rose of

innocence more fully blooms, and sighs are changed to sounds of melody."

The vision disappeared; and Eve arose with new strength from the pallid corpse of her son. And on the morrow, when she had bedewed him with her tears, and crowned him with the roses of the altar, his father and mother buried him by the altar of his God, in the light of a beauteous day-dawn. And oft at midnight sat they by his grave, and gazed toward heaven, upwards to the high-moving chariot of stars, and sought their shepherd there.

III.

THE DEATH OF ADAM.

Adam was nine hundred and thirty years old, when he felt within him the sentence of his judge; "Thou shalt die."

"Let all my sons come before me," said he to weeping Eve; "that I may yet again see them and bless them." And they came at their father's word, and stood before him, many hundred in number, and prayed for his life.

"Who from among you," said Adam, "will go to the holy mountain? Perhaps he may find mercy for me, and bring me the fruit of the Tree of Life." Immediately all his sons offered themselves to do his will, and Seth, the holiest of all, was chosen by his father for the message.

His head sprinkled with ashes, he hastened forth, and lingered not until he stood before the gate of Paradise. "Let my father find mercy, O thou merciful one-(thus prayed he)-and send him fruit from the Tree of Life."

Straightway a glittering cherub stood before him; but instead of the fruit from the Tree of Life, he held in his hand a twig with three leaves. "Bear this to thy father," said the cherub, gently, "as his last consolation here; eternal life dwells not on earth. But hasten back; his hour is come."

Seth hastened back, and threw himself down before his father, and said; "No fruit from the Tree of Life I bring thee, father; this twig alone has the angel given me, as thy last consolation here."

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The dying man took the twig, and was glad. He smelt upon it the odor of Paradise; his soul was lifted up. My children," said he, "eternal life dwells not for us on earth; and ye shall follow after me. But on these leaves I breathe the fragrance of another world-new life -new strength." His age failed-his spirit fled away.

The children of Adam buried their father, and thirty days they wept for him; but Seth wept not. He planted the twig at the head of his father's grave, and called it the twig of the new life, of the awakening-up from the sleep of death.

The little twig became a lofty tree, and many of Adam's children grew strong therefrom in the faith of another life.

And thus it descended to succeeding generations. Fair blossomed it in David's garden, until his infatuated son began to doubt of immor