At one time the whole court was thrown into great commotion by a sudden fancy which the king took for worsted work. A courier was instantly dispatched to Paris for wool, needles, and canvas. He only took two hours and a half to go and come back, and the same day all the courtiers in Versailles were seen, with the Duke of Gesvres at their head, embroidering like their sovereign. At a later period, both the new and the old nobility joined in the common pursuit of pleasure before their fall. Bad taste and frivolousness marked their amusements. Titled ladies, who eagerly sought the favor of being allowed a seat in the presence of Madame de Pompadour, visited in secret the popular ball of the Porcherons, or amused themselves by breaking plates and glasses in obscure cabarets, assuming the free and reckless tone of men. Their husbands in the meanwhile embroidered at home, or paced the stately galleries of Louis XIV, at Versailles, a little painted cardboard figure in one hand, while with the other they drew the string which put it in motion. This preposterous amusement even spread throughout the whole ration, and grave magistrates were to be met in the streets playing, like the rest, with their _pantins_, as these figures were called. This childish folly was satirized in the following epigram: "D'un peuple frivole et volage Pantin fut la divinité. Faut-il être s'il chérissait l'image Dont il est la réalité?" The general degeneracy of the times was acknowledged even by those who shared in it. The old nobles ascribed it to that fatal evil, the want of female chastity. Never, indeed, had this social stain been so universal and so great.--_Women in France during the Eighteenth Century._ THE PLEASURES OF OLD AGE.--One forenoon I did prevail with my mother to let them carry her to a considerable distance from the house, to a sheltered, sunny spot, whereunto we did often resort formerly to hear the wood-pigeons which frequented the fir trees hereabout. We seated ourselves, and did pass an hour or two very pleasantly. She remarked, how merciful it was ordered that these pleasures should remain to the last days of life; that when the infirmities of age make the company of others burdensome to us and ourselves a burden to them, the quiet contemplation of the works of God affords a simple pleasure which needeth not aught else than a contented mind to enjoy: the singing of birds, even a single flower, or a pretty spot like this, with its bank of primroses, and the brook running in there below, and this warm sunshine, how pleasant they are. They take back our thoughts to our youth, which ago doth love to look back upon.--_Diary of Lady Willoughby._ [From Bentley's Miscellany.] THE CIRCASSIAN PRIEST-WARRIOR AND HIS WHITE HORSE. A TRUE TALE OF THE DAGHESTAN.