The Birth-day Gift. THE populous kingdom of Ava, in India beyond the Ganges, was once inhabited by a minor prince, who was brought up in the luxurious indolence of an eastern palace. When he had reached the age of seventeen, which, by the laws of that country, was the period of majority for the crown, all the great men of his court, and the governors of the provinces, according to established custom, laid at his feet presents consisting of the most costly products of art and nature that they had been able to procure. One offered a casket of the most precious jewels of Golconda; another, a curious piece of clock-work made by an European artist; another, a piece of the richest silk from the looms of China; another, a Bezoar stone, said to be a sovereign antidote against all poisons and infectious diseases; another, a choice piece of the most fragrant rosewood in a box of ebony inlaid with pearls; another, a golden cruse full of genuine balsam of Mecca; another, a courser of the purest breed of Arabia; and another, a female slave of exquisite beauty. The whole court of the palace was overspread with rarities; and long rows of slaves were continually passing loaded with vessels and utensils of gold and silver, and other articles of high price. At length an aged magistrate from a distant province made his appearance. He was simply clad in a long cotton robe, and his hoary beard waved on his breast. He made his obeisance before the young monarch, and holding forth an embroidered silken bag, he thus addressed him: "Deign, great king, to accept the faithful homage and fervent good wishes of thy servant on this important day, and, with them, the small present I hold in my hand. Small, indeed, it is in show, but not so, I trust, in value. Others have offered what may decorate thy person-here is what will impart perpetual grace and lustre to thy features. Others have presented thee with rich perfumes-here is what will make thy name sweet and fragrant to the latest ages. Others have heaped round thee the riches of a temporal kingdomthis will secure thee the treasures of an eternal one." He said, and drew from the purse a book containing the Moral Precepts of the sage Zendar, the wisest and most virtuous man the East had ever beheld. "If," he proceeded, "my gracious sovereign will condescend to make this his constant companion, not an hour can pass in which its perusal may not be a comfort and a blessing. In the arduous duties of thy station, it will prove a faithful guide and counsellor. Amidst the allurements of pleasure and the incitements of passion, it will be an incorruptible monitor, that will never suffer thee to err without warning thee of thy error. It will render thee a blessing to thy people, and blessed in thyself; for what sov ereign can be the one without the other?" He then returned the book to its place, and kneeling gave it into the hands of the king. He received it with respect and benignity, and history affirms that the use he made of it corresponded with the wishes of the donor. 1 A Chinese Justice. THERE was a certain Intendant of a province in that empire, who, out of regard to a particular friend of his, made him Chief Justice of the city where he resided. It happened that this Intendant, on a sudden, became inaccessible, and, under pretence of indisposition, would neither do business nor be seen. The Chief Justice was extremely concerned at this behavior; he came often to his house, but was denied admittance: at last, however, it was granted; and, on entering, he found the Intendant in a very melancholy posture; he therefore entreated his friend not to conceal from him the real cause of his affliction. For a while the Intendant resisted the entreaties of his kind visitant; but at last told him he had lost the imperial seal out of his cabinet, which yet remained locked, and had no marks of violence upon it; and was therefore disabled from doing anything, and cut off from all hopes of recovering this necessary instrument of his office. The Chief Justice bade him keep up his spirits, and, instead of despairing, apply the great abilities he was known to possess, in contriving some means to get the seal again. The Intendant sighed, and said it was impossible. The Chief Justice asked him if he had any potent enemy? Yes, said the Intendant, the Governor of this city bears a strong antipathy to me, because a friend of his missed the employment I now hold. Very well, said the Chief Justice; then I have thought of a method to set all this matter right; do you cause the most valuable of your effects to be brought into your inner apartment, and, as soon as they are safe, let the outward part of your palace be set on fire; the Governor, as it is his duty, will be forced to come to your assistance; as soon as he appears, deliver him the cabinet in which the seal was placed; if it was he who caused it to be stolen, he will be glad to restore it, and at all events the blame will lie at his door, not yours. The Intendant instantly pursued his friend's scheme; the fire drew the Governor thither, as they expected; the cabinet was delivered to him in a seeming fright; and the next day, when the danger was over, the Intendant sending for it again, found the seal replaced; for the Governor, finding himself over-reached, wisely compounded, by thus returning the seal, for the fraud he had committed in procuring it. Thus the calmness of the Chief Justice proved a remedy, where a man of superior parts, but without equanimity, would have resigned every hope, and abandoned himself to despair. Dignity on Trial. A YOUNG lady of rank and fortune went out to walk in her father's wood. "Pray, madam, (said the gray-headed steward,) may I humbly entreat that you will not go far from home; you may meet with strangers who are ignorant of your quality." "Give your advice (answered she) when desired. I admit of no instructions from servants." She walked on with satisfaction, enjoying a clear sky and a cool breeze. Fatigue seized her, regardless of high birth; and she sat down on a smooth spot at the side of a high road, expecting some equipage to pass, the owner of which would be proud to convey her home. After long waiting, the first thing she saw was an empty chaise, conducted by one who had formerly served her father as a postilion. "You are far from home, madam; will you give me leave to set you down at my old master's?" Prithee, fellow, be not officious."-Night was fast approaching, when she was accosted by a countryman on horseback, "Mistress, will you get up 66 behind me, Dobbin is sure-footed; you shall be set down where you will, if not far off, or much out of my way." 'Mistress! (exclaimed she) how dare you presume?" "No offence," said the young man, and rode away, humming the song I love Sue.—It was night: the clouds gathered, the leaves of the trees rustled, and the young woman was terrified with what she took for strange sounds. There came an old man driving an empty dung-cart. "Friend, (said she, with an humble accent,) will you let me go with you?" Pride is the most galling burthen a person can walk under. Prudence saves from many a misfortune: pride is the cause of many. Self-Love. WHEN Appelles was about to execute a picture of Venus, the goddess of love and of beauty, his object was to concentrate every delicacy of expression, and every grace of contour, of which the human form is susceptible; but whom should he choose for a model? He had called a thousand beauteous females each a Venus in her turn: but that was the language of love—now he must examine the fulness of their form, and the accuracy of their proportions, with the rigor of a critic, and the eye of an artist. In each was discovered some partial imperfection; from assembling the beauties of them all, at last he completed his Venus. The damsels, to whom the painter had been indebted, flocked with overflowing impatience to behold themselves in the picture, which had spread the renown of Appelles through every city of Greece. "Yes," said Galatea, casting a careless glance at the canvass, "he has really hit my complexion,”—and went away satisfied that she was Venus. Sapphira came—and blushed-and smiled. "Poor creatures!" said Aspasia; "they will burst with envy, for he has copied me to the very shape of my fingers." Appelles had indeed copied the fingers of Aspasia, but that was all. The moral is, that many persons possessing a single feature, or limb, or talent, or disposition, worthy of praise or attention, in an evil hour, conscious of their endowment, shall extend it to the whole of their figure and character, and so believe themselves very perfect. OLD MAN, FATHER AND THE CHILDREN. Children. OH beautiful! Just look, papa, See what that good old man has got A book all made for little folks ; Pray buy us one, pa, will you not? Father. No-no. The world is full of books, Old Man. Let me assure you, sir, this book, |