Newspaper Page Text
THE MADISONIAN. VOL. IV.-NO. 87.] WASHINGTON CITY, TUESDAY, MAY 4, 1841. [WHOLE NO. 648. The madisonian. THOMAS ALLEN, Kditor ami Proprietor. AGENTS. Lb wis H. Dobilbowkb, 34 Catharine street, Phi ladelphia. J. R. Wain, Pittsburg, Pa. C. W. Jamu, Cincinnati, Ohio.' Hcnhy S. Mceu, 404 Bowery, New York. Gkobok W. Bull, Buffalo. N. York. Jacob R. How, Auburn, N. York. Sylvanum Stlvkns, New Haven, Ct. E. B. Foam, Boaton, Mu>. Thomas 11. Wilby, Cahawba, Alabama. Wkhton F. Bim h, Fayette, Missouri. Josiah Snow, Detroit, Michigan. Fowxku & Woodwakd, St. Louis, Mo. Tiie Madimonian in published Tri-weekly during the sit4ings of Congress, and Semi-weekly during the recess, al $5 |x r annum. For six months, ^3. The Madwoman, weekly, per annum, &"2 ; do. nix months, #1. No subscription will l?e liken for a term short of six months; nor unless paid for in advance. PBICK OK AUVKKTISINU. Twelve line*, or less, three insertions, - - 81 00 Each additional insertion, 25 Longer advertisements at proportionate rates. A liberal discount made to those who advertise by year. IV Subscribers may remit by mail, in bills of sol vent bunk*, postage paid, at our risk | provided it shall ?????r by a postmaster's certificate, that such remit ta.ni', ..Mi been duly mailed. A liberal discount will he made to companies of Jive or more transmitting their subscriptions together. Postmasters, and others authorized, acting as our vents, will be entitled to receive a copy of the pajier gratia lor every live subscribers, or al that rate ixr cwl. on subscriptions generally: the terms being ful fill"!. Lvtters and communications intended for the estab lshwont will not I hi received unless the pottage it paid. THE LAW LIBR AR Y. IT is the object of the Law Library to furnish the profession with the most important British element ary treatises upon luw, in a form which will render them far less expensive than works of this description have hitherto been. It is published in monthly num bers, large octavo, of about '200 pages each, upon tine pa|>er, and with handsome type, at ten dollars per annum, and is sent carefully secured, by moil, to every part of the United States. It makes, in a year,' feur large, handsome octavo volumes, of upwards of 600 pages each, and these volumes include works which would cont, if purchased in the usual fonn, from se venty to seventy-live dollars per year. From eight to twelve entire treatises on different branches of law, are annually given, and great caie is taken that all these treatises shull be standard, and of undoubted ability and authority. The undersigned has at all times confidently rested the claim of his publication to the support of the pro fession, U|>on the comprehensive excellence oflhenlan on which it is conducted, and the chntactcr and in trinsic value of the productions to which it has given circulation. He is unwilling, however, to omit to avail himself of the permission, most kindly given, to publish the following extract from a letter addressed to liiin by the Hon. Esek Cowen, of the Supreme Court of New York: "I renew iny thanks to you for this publication. 1 can hardly doubt that the profession must duly appre ciate its value, and reciprocate your caie in its conduct and distribution, by an adequate subscription and punctual remittances. It is in truth, what it professes to be, a 'Law Library.' It has already become a manu al in almost all the more useful branches of profes sional business. 1 am quite sure it will, if properly patronized, stand without a rival in the extent and cheapness with which it will diffuse that kind of in struction most s.iught by the American bar. It koeps them up with Westminster Hall in those departments of legal learning wherein it is their ambition and duty to excel." Subjoined are a few testimonials, from many, which the publisher lias received from distinguished sources: From Judge Ser geant.?" The plan of the 1 Law Library is such as to recommend it to the sup|iort of the profession generally in the United Slates. It is calculated to enlarge the science of jurisprudence, and to elevate the character of the profession." from Hon. John 'I'ayloe Lomar, qf Virginia.? " The references in my digest have been numerous to the excellent treatises published in the Law Library ; for the extensive circulation which thai periodical me rits, and has doubtless attained, has made these au thorities, it is presumed, generally accessible through out tho United States." "1 am surprised that any member of the legal profes sion should withhold his subscription to your admi rable Law Library." From Chancellor Kent.? The Law Library Is a work most advantageous to the profession, and I hope and I net that you will find encouragement to perse vere in it." /?'rom the Hon. Kills Lewis.?"Your publication is cheap, and ofimmense value to the profession " From the Hon. John .1/- Clayton, lute Senator fro<n Delaware.?" You are entitled to the thanks of every member of our profess ion for the 'Law Library. It is an excellent thing for us." from the National (sazette?" Mr. John S. Lttlell ha* adopted the only plan by which valuable works can Ik- brought within the leach of the muss of the profession, and we speak with confidence of his under taking as eminently meriting patronage and support The assiduity and experience of the editor ol the Law Library, and the character ofthe productions to which it has given circulation, do not need our testimony ." From the Hon. R. Biddle.?"Of the numerous trea tises the Law Library baa placed within our reach, at ? cheap rate, there arc few, if any, which 1 would not have procuied e?en al the great price of imported Law Books." From Judge Laylon?"Your invaluable publica tion should graco the shelves of every lawyer's li brary." Subscriptions for the Law Library may commence with July or with October, lHll), or with January 1HI1. Terms?payment for one year,in ad*ancc, J"10 JOHN S. LITTKLL. Law Bookseller and Pdbli/i'cr, dec '22-tf No. '23, Minor ?t., Fhilfb-lpbia. N. B. The notes of the Ba.vk o' ti,e uni" tf.d States will be received <n payment for new (DMcnfttOMi a HOT 1TION pfWTAlNE H. PETTIS, m " , t late of Virginia, having lo i i "U,'Vr,: . ity of New York for eight years . ..... must ,'y tenders his acknowledgments to las pan , r,7iP"Jfgoui|j f0r their confidence and jmt ns riems in^m ()f imsiness, and solicits ron.sge llr lias had much experience, both their i <yalp ,[la| (,p Pennsylvania, in causing fugi '!' v.Vaves to be secured, and will continue to effect such '.Ijirts whenever called upon. His plans are so well matured, by having al bis command the most efficient aid, located at different points, and successfully har monizing, that he cannot but flatter himself tiiat he will have more complete success in future than hereto fore? indeed, if clothed with full authority, he can cause any fugitive slave to be secured, who may be in the United States, north of Mason and Dixon's line. All the statutory enactments of this Slite on this sul> jret, have been pronounced unconstitutional by the highest tribunals. It will therefore be seen that the provision made in the consfi/ufiononthis subject, are paramount to all other enactments, whether State or Federal. There are thousands of fugitive slaves in tliis citv and its environs, and ihey continue to mul tiply ra|>nllv. These being, at best, very unpopular cases in this quarter, (he bating the Abolitionists, the flesh, and the devil, to contend w ith,) it will be necessary for those wishing to secure his services, to forward him a power of attorney, duly executed, and minutely de scriptive of the fugitive, and also a fee of $20, to defray preliminary and contingent expenses. His universal charge for securing such slave is fiilOO, and all reason able expenses. Mr Pettis will promptly anil fai'hfully attend to anv business confided to bun, touching his profession. All letters must l?e |iost paid. New York March 17, 1*11?d&cfim. ? V The Alexandria Gazette will copy the above, ami send their bill to me at 104, Broadway, New York. F. II. PETTIS. DUTLER'8 WRITING PAPERS, Umtf'*, D Owen iV liurlbnts, Hudson's, Donaldson's, Booth worth's and Gilpin's Cbp and letter Paperi? I 'onstanlly for sale by F. I A ^ LOR, all ot the best qualities, at very reasonable prices. Additional sup plies lately received. A so. a small assortment of English letter Papers, chiefly impottcd by himself, anil French Writing Po ller, by far the best fabric thnt has lw*en brought totbil market, foi the use of the Metallic Pen, And all other articles of Stationery used in the < 'minting 11 iu*e and Public Office, of ihe besf quality and at the lowest price in every case. A1 NAVY SLOP CLOTHING FOR THE YEAR IMI. Navy CoMMissioNEn*' Orricg, Aphil 20,1841. SEALED PROPOSALS, endorsed " Proposal* for Slop Clothing," will be received at thin office until 3 o'clock P. M of the 13th May next, for fur nishing and delivering at each of the Navy Yaid*, at Churl<'?town, Massachusetts ; Brooklyn, New York, and Gospoit, Virginia, the following article*, via. H00 hlue cloth Trowner* H00 white ffannel Shirt* ?KM) white Mannel Druwera HIM) white linen Frock* tiOO white duck Trowser* tiOO white Ueriuan linen Trow?ei* I |wir? woollen Stocking* 100 pair* woollen Sock* 1,000 pair* of thick uewed leather Shoe* <>(10 pair* of sewed leather Pump* 4tM) Blanket* The hlue cloth trowsers, llannel shirts and drawer* aro to he made from material* of American manufac ture. All the article* are to lie fully e^ual to the sam ple* which are deposited at the Navy \ aids near Hoe ton, New York, and Norfolk ; at which place* sche dules, showing the size* of the dillerent articles of clothing, may ulso lie seen. Where the articles are to lie of moie than one size, two-thirds of the number furnished are to he of the largest size, and one-third of the smallest *ize, excepting the shoe* and stock ings, which must be of assorted size*, and which will be specified in the contract* that may lie made. All the said article* of *lop clothing must lie sub jected to such inflection ami survey a* the Commis sioner* of the Navy shall direct, by instruction* to the commanding officer* of the respective navy yard* of delivery ; and no portion of the aaid slop clothing will be received that i* not fully equal to the samples or patterns, both in material* and workmanship, and dot1* not conform in all other res|iect* to the stipulations and provisions of the contracts to lie made. Tnc prices to lie asked for the several denomination* of articles enumerated must be mean or average prices, without regard to the size*, and must be calculated to cover every ei|ienso attending the fulfilment of the contracts, until the aiticles have passed inspection, lieen approved and received, including the necessary metal navy buttons. The whole must be delivered, in good.tjght,substan tial, and dry packing boxes oi hogsheads, and in good shipping order, at the expense of the contractors, anil to the entire satisfaction of the commandants of the yaids. Separate proposals must lie made?first, for all the shoes; second, for all the stockings; thiril, for all the blankets; und/uurM, for all the other articles?as dis tinct contracts may be made for each class. One fourth of the quantity of each article to he de livered at each of the navy yards must lie delivered on or before the first of July next; one fourth on or be fore the fifteenth day of August next; and the re mainder on or before the first day of October next. And in case of failure on the pait of the contractors to deliver articles within the times specified, the Com missioners of the Nuvy to have the right to direct pur chases to bo made to supply the deficiencies, and any excess of cost to be charged to and puid by the con tractors. Person* making offers must stipulate sjiecifically that they will furnish under the contract* to be made, any additional quantity of any of the kinds and des cription of articles embraced in their respective pro liosal*, which the Commissioners of the Navy may re quire within the year 1H41, not to exceed the quanti ties and descrijitions named in this advertisement, upon receiving sixty days' notice to that eject. Bond* in one-third the amount of the respective contracts will he required, and ten per centum in addi tion will he withheld from the amount of each payment to lie made, a* collateral security for the due and faith ful performance of the re?|iective contracts, which will on no account lie |iaid until the contracts arc complied with in all respects, and is to be forfeited to the use and benefit of the United Stutes in the event of fail uics to complete the deliveries within the prescribed periods. Atler deducting ten |ier centum, payment will be made by the United States within thirty days after the said slop clothing shall have been inspected and received, and bills for the same, approved by the commandants of the respective navy yards, according to the terms of the contracts, shall have been presented to the navy agents. The Board of Navy Commissioner* reserve to thonwolves the rijjht to reject all otler" frnm iiersnn* who have heretofore failed to fi Hi I their contracts with the Navy Department. opril 2-1?eo3w 5"V To be published three time* a week in the Na tional Intelligencer, Madisonian, Boston Daily Ad vertiser, Boston Atlas, New Yoik Express, New York Commercial Advertiser, Philadelphia Daily Stand ard, North American and Daily Advertiser, Balti more Patriot, Baliimorc American, Norfolk and Ports mouth Ilerald, and Norfolk Beacon. " Jt only requires to be known to te certain of support." (A general exclamation.) ALBANY LOCK HOSPITAL. Dr. COOKE. THE unfortunat' are respectfully informed that the Albany Lock Hospital, established and mo delled afler tb much celebrated Eurojs-an Lock Hospital, hu' many yean since lieen founded at Head Cluarters. No. 3 Norton street, Albany, N. Y. To those (^acquainted with this institution, it is necessa ry ir mention that it h;ui for its object the cure of all ti diseases as syphilis, scrofula, strictures, diseases of the urethra, lumbago, Hour alhus, impotency, dis eases of the womb, Keminal weakness of both sexes, nodes, caries of the bones, gonorrhoea, gleets, with all venerial complaints, Jtc. Persons, ignorant of the nature of Disease, are not aware that many stages mark its progress from the commencement to its lull development, originating in a most simple form, anil through neglect or injudicious treatment, assume a more aggravated state of discaMC, and occasion abscess, ulceration, |iscudo syphilis, can cer, premature old age, too otlen ending in a protract ed incurable state ot miserable existence. This institution is under the superintendence and management of Professor Cookk, M. D., D. D., LL. D., of the city of Albany, N. Y., who will oive his |iersonal attendance at the Dis|icnsary, attached to the Institution, at all hours to invalids requiring his professional services. He having had much more experience in this branch of medical practice than usually falls to the lot of any one member of the pro fession, therefore feels such confidence of his ability to give universal satisfaction, that he assures all appli cants, none need despair of u complete recovery. The unfortunate therefore, who have suffered from the want of success by those less exjierienced, are in vited to visit the Hospital, which only requires to lie known to lie sure of sup|iort, where the most perfect secrecy may lie depended on, and the utmost privacy will attend those who call. The whole house is cx elusively appropriated to the use of |iatients, who will always lie received into segiarate apartments, and at no time, unless at the request of tlie |mtient, will a third party be |iermitted to lie present. Professor Cooke-has a numlier of handsomely fur nished private chambers, at No. 33 Green street, where he will receive gentlemen who may require medical aid. Residing himself on the premises, he will thereby be enabled to dedicate more than ordina ry attention to his patients. Gentlemen will find it Isith convenient, as well as economical, in all cases of disease, to retire to these furnished rooms. The Pectoral EssenceoJHoneset, universally known as an excellent cough medicine, is prepared at this in stitution. Its efficacy licing decidedly su|ierior to any s|M<cilic extant, is every where recommended in ail eases of coughs, colds, asthma, croup, hooping cough, as well as in all complaints of the chest anil lungs. Travellers, therefore, ministers of the gospel, orators, public speakers, ami families, should never lie without their abundant supplies As long as Professor Cookk desires to lienefit the public, it is projier he should continue his advertise ment, for the good of strangers, as it is well known, people are extremely shy in speaking of case* of a delicate nature, even where a physician is pre-emi nently successful. Communications, jMist liaid, to the address of Pro fessor Cookk, M. D , D. D , LL. IV, Albany, N. Y., enclosing a bank note as a counselling fee, will have attention?(none others will lie received)?or a iier sonal consultation may lie had at all times as usual, at the Disjiensary, which is projierly fitted up and ar ranged with separate office* for confidential inter views. rvc ^oitnftclling ftTH ariil charg**#* rraaonablr, foffice .No. 3 Sorton street?Hou*c So. 33 Green etreet, Albany. mar 3 if Cortical. _____ /?Votn the Urothcr Jonathan. THE DEATH OF HARRISON. BY N. r. WILLI*. What! ?onr'tl the old eagle to die at the nun ! Lie* he mill with spread wing* at the goal he had won! Are there *pirita, more bleat than the planet of even, Who mount to their zenith, then inell into Heaven ? No waning of tire, no quenching of ray, Hut liaing, at ill lining, when pausing away f Farewell, gallant eagle ! thou 'rt buried in light! God *|?ed unto Heaven, I oat atar of our night! Death! Death in the White Houae ! Ah, never before Trod hia skeleton foot on the President'* floor! He ia looked for in hovel, and dreaded in hall? The king ill hia cloaet keejw hatchment and pall? The ywuth in hit- birth-place, the old man at home, Make clean from the door-atone the path Ui the toinb; Hut the lord of thia manaion waa cradled not here ? In a church-yard fur oil' atanda hia beckoning biei ! He ia here an the wave-creat heave* Hashing on high? j A a the arrow i* atopp'd by ita prize in the *ky? The arrow to earth, and the foam to the ahore? Death find* them when awiftnea* and sparkle are o'er. Hut Harriaon'* death till* the climax ot ?tory? He went with hi* old *lride?from glory to glory ' Lay hia sword on hi* breaat! There'* no *jh>1 on it* bludu In whone cankering breath hi* bright laurel* Mill fade? 'T wa* the drat to lead on at humanity'* call? It wa* atayed with aweet inercy when 'glory' wa* ail! A* calm in the council aa gallant in war, He fought for hi* country and not it* ' hurrah !' In the path of the hero with pity he trod? Let hiiu paaa with hi* aword to the preaence of God ! What more! Shall we on, with hi* a*he*1 Vet, stay ! He hath ruled the wide realm of a king in hi* day ! At hia word, like a monarch'*, went traaaure and land? The bright gold of thousand* ha* |?Med thru' hi* hand? la there nothing to ahow of hia glittering board 1 No jewel to deck the rude hill of hia aword 1 No trapping* 7 no horaea 1? what had he, but now 1 On ! on with hia nahea !?he left but his plough ! Hiave old Cincinnatua! Unwind ye his sheet! Let him alecp aa he lived?with hia puree at hia feet! Follow now, an ye liat! The first mourner to-day la the nation?whose father ia taken away ! Wife, children and neighLor, may mourn at hia knell; He waa " lover and friend" to hi* country, aa well! For the atara on our banner, grown auddenly dim, Let ua weep in out darkness?but weep not for him! Not for him?who, departing, leave* million* in tears! Not for him?who haa died lull of honors and yeara! Not for him?who ascended Fame'* luddei so high Fiom the round at the top ho lius step'd to the sky ! It i* blessed to go when so ready to die ! fHfscrllnttrous. THE APRIL FOOL. BY ABBOTT LEE. The morning of the lirst of A prill, anno Do mini no matter when, shone out with all the smi ling sunniness of youthful coquetry. Very beau tiful is the first bright smile of coming spring.? In fact, we believe that the first of every thing i* always the best welcomed ; it has the charm of novelty ; is the loveliest, the dearest. The first Hash of a beautiful face, the first gush of song, the first breath of perfume, the first tint of the llower, the first hour of the morning, the first of a friendship, and O yes! very certainly the first of a fit of love ! the first thought, the first feel iug, the first emotion, the first perception, bring us only the brightness, and lagging after comes that gloomy thing the shadow. The sunshine of that April morning on that certain anno Domini shone brightly into a very little room, very scantily furnished, belonging to a very little cottage, being one of a very little row, hanging like a little bit of fringe on the skirts of our greut metropolis; and in this room was a very scanty supply of those things which oiviliuatiou Itao agroud to aall thn noooBturico of life ; for instance, half the number of chairs to the double number of people who were to sit upon them; only one table, and unfortunately what the table held in the shape of breakfasts* hie viands bore but a faint relative proportion to the mouths they were to fill; in fact it was the very idea of a breakfast rather than breakfast itself, being as unlike as possible to hams and eggs and patties, and chickens and dried salmon and marmalades, as could possibly be, and boast ing only?no, we will not tell of what, the de tails of poverty can never be palatable?boasting of very little indeed. Now it very frequently happens that the rich and the poor seem to be playing at cross pur poses; the rich sit down to plenteous boards, and cannot endure even the aroma, whilst the poor have appetites altogether so nrovokingly good, and nothing of the wherewithal ; and thus it was that the very little group of children that surrounded that scanty breakfastable eyed the rough bread loaf with very loving looks and swallowed portions of it as though it had been ambrosia; and whether or not the gods would have considered the thick dry slices fit lbi Olym pus, those children would have been infinitely sorry to have divided them with Jove himself. Now whether or not moil ft pre was satisfied with the fare that hunger had so richly flavour ed for his children, our history telleth not. Some thing, however, like April clouds of sorrow and discontent darkened over his brow, and some thing like April showers gathered in his eye as he pushed away the untastcd morsel, and, pro bably to hide a face that was indexing a dis quieted soul, rose and wiilked to the little lattice of that narrow chamber. He had not stood many moments before a lit tle hand, on one of the fingers of which was bound the bandage of wedded love, was pressed upon his shoulder, and, without seeing them he was conscious that a pair ol rich swimming eyes were soliciting a meeting with his own ; but being perfectly aware that tears, refractory, unmanly, bitter tears were gathering in his own orbs of vision, he turned them away from their bright wooers, and would not even look on his lady-love. "You are sad, dearest," said the kindest voice in the world ; "how dare you be sorrowful whilst 1 am with you / whilst you are surrounded by these dear faces !" "O Helen," replied the father and the hus band, " it is because you are with me that I am sad ! For myself, I think I could have borne all ? the privations of toil and poverty ; but to see you wanting the very necessaries ol lile ??" "Now will I preach to you," said the wife with a smile ; " to you who preach to others ; to you, Reverend Benjamin Blytlie. Now tell me what is there that 1 want, saving and excepting to see you smile? Believe me, 1 dread to see a dismal face more than?I was &oing to say?the plague; but you know it is a sort of plague-spot, for it never shows its dark slain, but it spreads. I should not be surprised, if you keep this dis mal face, but that I shall catch ii myself at last, and then what will you do?" " What indeed !'1 said the husband with a bitter sigh. "Nay, my bird, that is not a musical note ! You know that you are in your cage, and you must sing." "You arc my good angel!" said the hus band. "Nay, nay, I will not be flattered out of my sermonizing," said the wife ; '' you shall have it. So, shall 1 Itorrow your surplice, and give a regular firstly, secondly, and thirdly, in true or thodox style, or will you have it extemporane ouly and non-olficial V " As you are not in regular orders," said the husband, getting tip a miserable smile, " not re gularly ordained, ordaint-d only to be my bless ing, 1 think we may do without the surplice and the book." " Well, be it no ; my morning gown shall be a bishop's vestment*, and my cap his mitre.? And now tell me, it in the balance your bless ings or your sorrows have the heaviest weight ?" "My blessings! my blessings!" said the hus I band with tearful emotion ; you and my chil dren. Could I have greater 7" " 1 should think not," said the wile. '' Such children!" and she glanced her eye towards them with a lace full of the most amiable vanity in the world, the vanity of a mother. And such a wife!" she added, with an aich sweet smile turned upon her husband ; " such a wife !" ''Yes, such children, and such a wife!" re peated the husband "aud to see them wanting the necessaries of life ! 1 preached to others, it is in vain that 1 repeat the lesson to myself. " 'Thy bread shall be certain, and thy water shall be sure,'" repeated the wile. ''Ay, literally bread and water!" said the husband, with some bitterness. " As much as we need, and more than we deserve," resumed the wife. ''Attend my sermon, sir." " Ay, dearest. These ?ke bitter sermons; my own preaching to others brought home tomysell. ill is in vain that I repeat, if these privations lell only on myself, that I could cheertully submit; hut this uiornHis?nay, do not deny it, dearest? 1 saw you push back the untasted morsel ; and I atn weak anil impotent to help ; 1 am shut out from the common Inliorrr's daily hire, and I see you, daily, wanting even bread !" '* Not absolutely," replied the wile. "And now tell me, would you choose to see our cher ubs mixing with disease in the midstol luxury, | or thus well and healthy, with hearty appetites ' for this same homely bread?" I ''Even as it is," ivplied the husband, "even as it is, with thankfulness." " Then smile again," said the wile, "lest a worse thing come upon thee. W hat! do you dare to look sorrowful in the midstol happy faces ! j O believe me that smiling lips are better than rubies, and joyous eyes more lustrous than dia monds! anil can you, cun you look sad, with Un blessed sun thus.shining full upon you this glori I oils morning ? O fie,tie upon you ! Let the sun j shine reach your heart! See how the wateris sparkling and leaping with joy ; and the trees in their new holiday green, and the birds chirrup ping from the house-tops! every thing lull ol hope, yet you are sad. Take the sunshine as a happy omen. 1 prophesy from it that the clouds are passing away, and that prosperity shall come to us loaded like a castled elephant with sacks of rupees and sacks of gold-dust." " Look at your type, dearest," said the hus band with a mournful smile. lllack clouds were gathering over the scene and one of our April showers began to patter, down. . I '-Beit my type," replied the wife; be it my type! Unbeliever look!" Even while she spoke, the sun. gathering up a thousand rays of beaming light, painted with them that glorious bow in the heavens which hath ever been a covenant of promise. The husband took the little hand of his wife within his own. '' ^ ou are the betterpreacher, he said, "and what is more, tin' better practiser. You know that for these last three months 1 have gone daily forth t. seek our daily bread, have offered myself a- a literary laborer, as a hireling scribe, as auytiling and everything that might not utterly disgrace my sacred functions, and you know that as often as 1 have gone with hope, 1 have returned with disappointment. Nevertheless, at thy word 1 will go forth once more." "If there were a,fate, " said Helen, you know that Queen Elizabeth thought that 'per severance might force Fate tochange her.mind,' but there is something better than a late?there is a Providence." The Reverned Benjamin Blythe once more donned his rusty black coat, and once more brushed his beaverless hat, and once more drew on his well-mended gloves, and once more sal lied forth in search of the laborer's hire. My dear reader, if you happen ever to have had a wife and half a dozen children, who hap pen to have good appetites, while you happen to lave a purse quite unpolluted with filthy lucre in your possession capable ot being trasniuted either into bread or gold, you may be just able to guess the very comfortable lone of mind upon which our poor hero sallied forth upon this fore lorn hope expedition. What a mockery to the poor man is the luxury of the rich! rl he rolling equipage, the extravagant attire, the pampered mentals, the luxurious dwellings, the shops all arranged to tempt self-indulgence, glittering trinkets, costly liqueurs, and a thousand shapes of fanciful confections made to entice the eye as well as the anpetite?all these are so many snares to envy for tlie hungry. Sorely tried that April morning was the Kev. Benjamin Blythe. It seemed to him as it every body to whom he applied, every body Jo whom he spoke, had got one malady, an ossification of the heart; a malady that aiiects the voce, the gestures, the mein, of every creature under the infection. The Reverend Benjamin Blythe pi tied every body he saw, hut most ot all he pitied himself. . , In fact the Reverend Benjamin Blythe began to think that some curious fatality ol disease pre vailed over every creature with whom he spoke; some were afflicted with blindness, soni/ wiili deafness, some with dumbness some with loss of memory, for even his former friends did not see him when he went up to them, did not hear him when he spoke to them, did not answer when they heard him, did not remember when they saw hitivso with the unheaped measure ol (illy and sev eral separate disappointments in his heart, with a mind worn out by anxiety, and a body sinking with fatigue and want oi' sustenance our poor hero tnrned his steps homeward. All. home?word that should thrill the heart . and it did thrill the heart of our unfortunate hero, when he thought ol turning his ste|?s thither ward, and carrying the great burden of his disap pointment, that load seemed more than he could carry there, so he made a dead stop in the middle of the street, and despair at that moment seemed to have bound up his faculties. Just nt (his jnnctnre the large folding doors of a lofty gloomy looking mansion opened, and a youngman who seemed to move like a harlequin, came Hying down a (light of about a dozen steps, which nasty mode of perambulation brought him ! quicker than thought into juxtaposition with the Reverend Benjamin Blythe. Now it seems that the first impulse of locomotion would have itu pelled the harlequinade to have leaped over him in the abundance of his bodily agility, but just as this feat seemed to be on the point ol accom plishment, the actor slopped short, and with a slight dancing step drew up, exclaiming. "All, is that you? What, in the name of fun, are you looking so miserable abouI ?" The reverend gentleman tried to smile. ' I j might as well ask you why you are looking so j gay- 1 hope thai you have as solid cause for contentment as 1 have for gloom. "Gloom! how 1 hate the word ! Why, you solemn sensible people never do any thing but look miserable. Miserable in ihe morning from expe ctancy; miserable at night from remem brance. Miserable o-e day, because it is too | hot; miserable another, because it is too cold. Miserable when y ou are well, for fear youshould be ill ; and miserable when you are ill, for tear you should never be well." " There are," said Blythe, ?' many real causes | of sorrow in this world." "And many good cause- of mirth. Why, I could lau^'h only at the sunshine because it sveins smiling at me, and a smile from anything that can smile, always sets me laughing. 1 laugh to see people look like so many Lord Gluuis and la dy Lackadaisicals. Why, if 1 only look at you, 1 must laugh ; for you have pulled out your lace into such an enormous length, such an elonga lion of forehead and nose and chin, that ha ! ha ! ha!?you are a perfect caricature ol your self." "I hope you may never have the same cause for a long face." "IfI have, I shall look at mvsell in my glass, and laugh at myself as I now Jo at you. How uiany Cruikshanks ihere are in the world, it they did hut know their own genius! Such twisting and jerking, and winking and stretch ing and 'lengthening,?all such capital carica lures." " Different people see things in different points of view." " A most profound observation that. Why, yes, you are as solid as?lead. My dear fellow, do tell me, were you ever guilty of the sin of laughing 7" '* Not very lately," replied poor Blythe, with a sorrowful smile. " Were you never so lucky as to he made a fool of, and obliged to laugh al yourself?" " 1 am afraid 1 should noi have found the jest. Nobody sees the wit of which they are the sport." "Don't they? I'll experiment on that some day soon. A good ihotiglil; but I suppose I am detaining you ?" " No," said the poor reverend with a sigh, "my time is not ot much value." " In a lit of humility, ha ? But I thought you were in haste to see Lord Wycherly ?" The reverend shook his head. " Then you have seen him ?" "No." " Written to him again ?" " Not again ; 1 did so a few months back; but that is all over. 1 heard that he was about to ap point a Secretary ; it was a forlorn hope, but I asked his lordship for the post. 1 did it only be cause I would leave nothing undone, not that I had any hope?therefore had 1 no right to be disappointed." "Then you have not heard from his lordship this morning." " No." " My dear fellow, 1 congratulate yon. I have but now left his lordship, and he assured me that he had just despatched your appointment. My dear fellow, 1 wish voy jou with all my heart.' The Reverend Benjamin Blythe clasped his hands together in such an emotion of joylul thankfulness, as to make Mr. Winkler start. The blood rushed from his heart to his lace, in a crimson tide, leaving the treasure-house of hopes and feelings a vacant tenement, and then rushed back again to make the citadel of life rock, and reel, and throb with its overpowering fulness. None but those who have lived long upon hope deferred, lived upon medicine rather than food, can tell what our hero experienced. Bright vi sions of happiness trooped before his eyes ; his children rosy with health and joyousness his wife smiling with contentment, his household hearth the centre of comfort, his board plente ously spread, something for his brethren the poor, the means of education for his little ones, the thousand things that he knew they wanted, and then for himself?O, he was to be unspeakably happy in beholding their happiness! "My dear fellow," said Mr. Winkler, "vou look like anything but a philosopher, ir you had only been on the stage, that attitude and those eyes would have made your fortune?quite stamped you as a first-rate tragedian ; but now that it is over, pray go in at ouce, and thank Lord Wycherly for your new prelerment. W hat a fortunate thing that 1 should have happened to have met with you." " Had 1 not better go home and consult Ins lordship's letter? and then 1 could tell my wife and the children." "By no means. It would delay you too long, and make you seem indifferent to your good fortune. It will be quite time enough when you have seen his lordship. I think it an exceed ingly lucky thing that I met with you?he would have thought you so tardy. Pray go at once. Hatha! ha! I can't for my life help laughing to see you look so amazed. Now go. 1 left his lordship quite disengaged. Wonderful that 1 should happen tojumn with you exactly at the door. But hark you, Blythe, you must not men tion who told you of your appointment; his lordship might think it olliciousness in me." "Certainly," said Blythe, "certainly not." " And will you just be so good," continued Mr. Winkle, as he hastily took from his pocket book one of those envelopes that fashion has made almost universal in our own most polished days and wrote what seemed to be a memoran dum'within. "Just be so good as to give my lord that little memorandum ; it contains some information essential to him to know. You must say nothing about it; it will explain itsell; He will perfectly understand it. And don't men tion my name at all, Blythe : I know he would ihink me a very officious fellow. Ha ! ha . ha I wish you joy ! What a lucky fellow you are ! Ha! ha! ha! Good-bye; good-bye." The Reverend Benjamin Blythe walked up that lofty flight of steps without perfectly know ing whether he accomplished the ascent on Ills head or Ins heels. His brain was in a perfect bewilderment; his limbs trembled, his knees shook, his tongue clove to the rooj ol his mouth. Had some sudden misfortune befallen l'>mi could not have fell more prostrate in mind. And it was true, because be had been in training lor sorrow. Grief upon grief had dogged his very footsteps, as step by step he hail advanced in the dark road of adversity, and its glooms had gathered more and more heavily ; but bis eyes were now well used to the murky pathway, and when, instead of denser darkness, the beams of prosperity shone on his path, he was well nigh blinded by the unaccustomed light. But pass we before our hero up those formal steps, through that stately halt, along those spa cious corridors, over a long suite ot rooms, into the very presence of the peer. IJ *r a' ^a!J stern stiff, severe propriety ; the chairs looked as if they were never designed to be sat upon, the floors never meant to lie trod upon, the ser vants as if they were never to be spoken to, every thing as if, could it have uttered words, it would have said, "Sacrilege to to touch me !" The solemn quiet of a lolly dignity pervaded ihe whole mansion. No hurry, no bustle, no flying here and hurrying there. Silence seemed to echo itself, and answer "silence" And the lord of the mansion, the peer of ihe i realm, the accredited representative of some cer I tain share of the wisdom of the nation ; where was he? what was he doing ? what was he like??why, he was in his library, he was writ ing. and be was like everybody else, like nothing but himself. 1 Yes," said Loid Wycherly, telling himself the news, "I have made un my mind, I havede cide.l, 1 will make Mr. Winkler mv secretary It will do very well for a young man wilhoi t i ncumbrances, and by-and-bye I may pu?h hint up lull a little. Yes, I will write tO Mm din 11 |v ; 1 know that he loves a jest, but 1 do not at the bottom of my heart see the sin ol a jest; that i*. of course, on proper occasions.^ I eopl<? say that 1 am a severe man: ?m I 7" Lord Vy clierlv look'd at himself in the large glass which faced his library table, and asked his own stern severe counterpart, the question, with an impos ing threatening air. "Severe, am I ? Need wonder if the world calumniates me with sc verily, thai it should calumuialV . with levity ?" Lord Wycherly dipped the pen 1li but, like all oilier steeled articles, it wouV ther break ihau bend. Not a single mark wo^ it make, though it was a real imieut, to further ing the nomiiialiou of Mr. Winkler to the im portant office of tlie peer's secretary. He dipped again, but the obstinacy of the auunal was in vincible. It might be a bad omen. Lord VVy cherly, however, was above omens, so he took a quill that had once belonged to a sensible goose, and in which wisdom might therefore be here ditary. Lord Wycherly again frowned upon Inuisell in the ({lass, and not upon himself only, but on a servant who had been bowing to his lordship's bark three minutes and a half without venturing to make himself further audible or visible, but who, now, tendering a card, presumed to utter the word "Wails," in the very ghost of sounds. ?' Show him up," said my lord, and the Ilev. Benjamin Blythe was shown up. The Reverend Benjamin lily the never after wards could tell how he had got up those stone steps, or across that lofty liuU, or along those corridors, whether he walked in the auti|>odeau fashion, or only managed the journey in the or dinary way. But there he did siand in the pre sence of the peer, at all events. Something like a perception of a dark frown ing brow bent upon him, and of glances taking the measure of his poverty-stricken ^nrl>t <!nl flicker around the confined whirl ol the poor gentleman's brains, but his eyes were too full of tears to see distinctly. In a husky voice, al most inarticulate wilh emotion, he tried to speak, hut llie words came not trippingly. ''Your lord ship's goodness?my gratitude?untiring [exer tion?devoting all my abilities." My dear reader, if you were ever in an O'Con nellised state, that is, in an agitation, and the person to whom you were uttering the words which you could neither organize nor control, listened to you liken snow figure or an embodied east wind, and waited till you had done, would not you think him very ?olite7 Thus polite was Lord Wycherly. Our poor hero had broken down, and had listened to silence for a full minute and a halt before his lordship replied, and then the cold words, like the utter ance of a statue, if statues ever speak, came cuttingly to the ear of the Reverend Benjamin Blythe. " I am at a loss to understand you, sir. Have the goodness to explain." " My name is Blythe, my lord." Poor Blythe thought that would explain everything. llis lordship bowed. " Three months ago I took the liberty of so liciting to be appointed your lordship's sccreta ry." His lordship bowed again. " Which your lordship has been pleased to honor me with." " Have I, sir?" "And 1 am come, my lord, to offer you a gra titude beyond all expression. If your lordship could know?could feel"?and here again poor Blythe broke down. Lord Wycherly gathered up his majesty and said, " I am at a loss, sir, whether mistake or something less excusable has procured me the honor of this interview. Suffer me to assure you that 1 do not in the least understand you." The Reverend Benjamin Blythe staggered at these words : they had all the torce of a blow ; he gasped for breath. The peer read all the marks of dissimulation in his discomfiture. Suddenly our hero remembered Mr. Winkler's note?the thought revived him. He presented it. "That, my lord, will explain all." The peer took it, opened it, read it. His coldness was gone in a moment; the storm burst, the tempest raged, the red blood rushed into his face, fire-works scattered themselves into his eyes, thunder boomed from his tongue. ''Take back your miserable jest?your con temptible lampooneryand suiting the action to the word, Lord Wycherly threw the open pa per in his face, and waving him away, said, " There is the door, sir '.?there is the door, sir . Our hero, perfectly sickened with amazement and apprehension, caught the paper in his grasp, and read the words that had thus had power to convert the frozen mountain into a volcano. He read the words, and out readers may do the ?me? An April Fool! . T_, , We say that the Reverend Benjamin Blythe read those words, and their effect was magical. The veil was torn from his eyes. He saw, at once, that lie was the victim of a miserable jest, the medium of a heartless insult, and, dashed, in a moment from the eminence of his prosperi ty, found himself again a beggar, and his wife and children starving. Miserable man! he at tempted to stagger out of the lordly presence, but famine and misery had done their otlicc, and he fell senseless at the feet of that said noble When consciousness returned to the Rev. Benjamin Blythe, he found himself lying on a sofa; lie had been bled, his arm was bound up, and lie was surrounded by several of the domes lies of Lord Wycherly's establishment. Lord Wycherly retired into the antechamber and beckoned the doctor, who had been hastily summoned, to follow him. " And you think him ill"? " Yes, my lord, and not slightly." " And his complaint?" " Starvation." Poor Blythe remembered what had passed? his faculties gathered themselves together again ? he staggered to his feet, endeavored to grasp his beaverless hat and his worn out gloves, and to totter forth into the wide and pittiless world again. Lord Wycherly approached. "My lord," said Blytbe, in accents almost in articulate through weakness and agitation?" my lord, it was never my intention to approach you wiili an insult?I was myself deceived. 1 did ii innocently. 1 will go." " Not yet," said Lord Wycherly, and he nod ded for his attendants to leave the room. ''And now, Mr. Blythe, if you arc well enough to converse for five minutes " "Certainly, my lord," gasped |>oorBlylbe. "Nay,oblige me by sitting, and I will do the same, and now swallow ibis glass of wine, it may help lo remove this faintness." The generous wine flowed through Blythe's very heart, and lie partially rallied. "My Lord, 1 thank you?J wish you could be lieve that I never intended to insult you. In all the unhappinessofmv disappointment, the worst stitig is, that my sacred profession should biar the odium of offering wanton affront." " 1 believe you, Mr. Blythe, and I am sure you will be able to explain." And Blytbe attempted to do so. He hurried over the history of that day?its dark page?the buffeting, the scorn, llie coldness, the contumely ?dUappoiniment unon disappointment, despair upon de-pair, hopelessness upon hopelessness, until lie had met with one whom be had unsus piciously believed a friend; and then came the history of that friend's deception, which had in volved him in his present trouble. "And his name?" asked Lord Wycherly. " Pardon me, my lord. He bade me noi tell it, and 1 heedlessly promised; but however lightly a promise may be given, it should be so lemnly kept. Your lordship will not ask nie." " I will not?I will tell it to you." My lord !" "It was Mr. Winkler. You need not answi r me. 1 happened lo have a Idler of bis before me when you arrived, and the writing condemns him. I bad then the pen in my hand to tell him I had resolved on accepting his nroffered service* ?for he ban connexions who nave importuned me strongly in bis favor, and I was yielding to them?but now I would sooner send to 'I"' 11 charily school! 1 owe him, however, oneobliga lion?he has been the means of introducing t" 1 personally to me." . " I thank you, my lord, f?r tliii* generous y quilting me,"