HARRIET.
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Truly, ii is a delicate subject, but we can tell the disconsolate lady, in few words, our opinion of the matter. It may not be worth much, but such as it is, she is truly welcome to 1t. We have observed that whenever these matrimonial alliances turn out badly-an9 1t is about five to one they do so--it is only a succession of trivial causes which produce 1t. And with all due respect to the women, 1t must be allowed that they are generally to blame. Jealous of their influence, and continually desirous ot trying the love of their husbands, they make a great noise about little things-they fairly poster them into a quarrel. As we are a living man, we believe 1t to be true. We have seen young couple, with no earthly thing to mar their happiness-truly attached 10 one another, rendered continually misc rable because the wife aco,ld sit down and plague the husband about nothing, until he became angry, and then she would cry, and he would go to bed sullenly. So, ID few words, our advice to the lady letter writer is, that she attach not so much importance to trihes, and cease plagulng her gade man.

 The relations of husband and wife are like those of the President and the Senate. Ii each extend their prerogatives to the utmost, and stand determinedly to every inch of their rights, the probability is that they will soon come to daggers' points-but a llttle concession on each side-and little sacrl- flee of obstinacy, will make llte's journey, what 1t should be, journey along path hung with fruits and flowers.

 And so, having with proper gallantry, oiyen ear to to the complaints ot our fair friends. we shall proceed to talk ot other matters-and we must confess that we are in an irregular and rambling humor to-day. We should dislike grievously to be ted down to the superb magniloquence oi Johnson or the labored equality of Addison, though we are infinitely beneath both. We prefer to write as we would talk, if you, reader, were hy our side. June, sunny June. IS come and is nearly half gone-and one longs to escape into the woods, and to sleep under the broad shades of the trees, and to let tune psss away without counting his stfides.--- The old greybeard is no laggard' though- # he does sometimes seem unnecessarily 10 delay. He is no laggard-for looking back on our past life it seems but moment to as' s Even we, ourselves, and we are not old, lool. on it as dream, and frequently iind ourselves asking if it is a reality. lime

 ooes on silently-but the constant trace ol b;s footstep is to be found in grey hars-ano an

 withered hopes -and a corroded heart. ne s have stood. ii IS some tune since, pae iol

 realitv 1t might have been yestesday-ws haye M stood on the edge of the sea ant seer '

 s chin careering out into the ocean--with a al her sails sercad-bending down, now '''