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"JOB PRINTING. Tut office oi" the Herald being well su^lwd with great variety of Job Type, the Proprietor pre pared to execute in the neatest style, s^ttUv- BOOKS, PAMPHLETS, ,'l IterLARB, KAMI-BILLS, CAIIOS, WILL practice io the several courts of the Ter ritory, arid particularly in the counties ot Johnson, Cedar, Linn, and Washington. Cj3 Col lections in any part ot the Territory punctually at tended to. 16-ay Fek 12,1841. LAW PARTNERSHIP. A S I N S & I A S i A V E associated themselves in the practice of Law, and will practtce in conjunction, in the counties of Muscatine, Cedar, Linn, Washington and Louisa. Business entrusted with either will receive the prompt attention of both. 8. C. HASTINGS, on. 5 E Bloomingtt 0wries OS h£8?T (7T U I S E BIOWIW®* HBIP*I.D V:»CT WKKLY," Y II O A S U E S TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. Tkrtt Dollar* per annum in advance r*rcc and Fifty Cents in six month* Fottr Dollars at the end of the year. TERMS OF ADVERTISING. F»r one square of VZUnes,nrst insertion, One Dollar and for each subsequent insertion Fif ty Vents. (£j- Liberal discount* allowed to those who atweir tise bv the year. (jjTLetters addressed to the Editors, in order to re ceive attention, MCST BE POST-PAII. AGENTS FOIt T1IK HEKALl). fr1*The following gentlemen are authorized to re ceive subscriptions, and receipt tor all moneys paid therefor. Some of them have not been spoken to on the subject—it any such feel unwilling to act in lease notify tfs. thai capacity, they witt please notify OS, Pattou McMellan. John King, P. M. Prairie La Port, Clayton, Dubuque, Bcllview, Jackson do Davenport, Scott do Wyoming, Muscatine W m. A. Warren, Andrew F. Rus&ell, Maj. Shcrkcy, V. R. Tompkins, Win. R. Rankin, Kelson Hastings, S. C. Trowbridge, Joel Leverich, Marion, Linn Couuty, Win. Chamber*, 3 John Ronalds, Harrison, Louisa County Bcmhart Henn, Burlington, Des Moines Amos La-Id, Fort Madison Lee co. ry The Postmaster General has decided that post masters may frank letters containing remittances to publishers, in payment of subscriptions. ______ SCOTT HICHWAK, Cedar county, H. MUSGRAVE, \VfujTcmlc and Retail Grocer, Forwarding and Commission Merchant, and Dealer in J'roduce, Bfcoo.HJ.vGTO-V, IOWA TKIIIUTORT. ADAM OGII.VIE, Forwarding and Commission Merchant, Blaomingtun, low ft. __________ W. F. IJEWEBLU, Forwarding" and Commission Merchant* Bl.OJMlNOTOX, I. T. Gj" Having lecn appointed Public Auctioneer for Muscatine county, bo is at all times ready to attend to sales in that way, O V K UilG EON AND PHYSICIAN, WLOMIXI!, I. T. DOCTOR M'KEE, STRKET, rAVE bet week hoxt 1X1) SECOND. IRS. SMITH & REEDER associated themselves together for the practice of Medicine, and they offer tljer ser vices to the public generally. GCJ~OiIice on Second street, near Holiingsworth's Drug store. A I E Tailor. FL^SNO? OS SECO.VD STIIEKT OPPOSITE THE WM, G. WOODWARD, A O N E Y A A W BLOOM1NGT0N, IOWA. v 1 CO. Montpelier, do Tipton, Ceilar county Rochester, do Iowa City, Johnson co. rt IN ALL ITS VARIOUS BRANCHES, i2suc5 as LA U ELS, BILLS OF LJLBIHU, BALL TICKETS, JUSTICES' BLANKS, BLANK DKKIJS,&C. WIL.JLIAM C. UEAGANJ ATTORNEY & COUNSELLOR AT LAW, Iowa City, Iowa Territory, Pan OFFICK. IKAD C. DAY, a o n e y A A W BLOOMINOTOS,IOWA TF.II. 0C/*Oflice on Second Street, third door1elow the Post Office. Recorder's Office in the same building T. S. PAKV1N, A O N E Y A A W BLOOMI NGTUN,I.T. GEORGE GREENE, Attorney and Counsellor at Jbaic, MARION, LIXX Co., I. T. J. W. PARKER, A O N E Y A A W DAVENPORT, I. T. M'lLLIAM R. RANKIN, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW TIPTON", CEDAR Co., I. T. WiH practice in the several courts of the Territory. Will. B. TYSON, O W A I N & O I S S I O N WHEELING, VA. HOUSE, SIGN AND ORNAMENTAL £3 B. llARGRAVES will attend to the.above ousmess, in all its various branches, with neal accuracy and daspatch. Also, Glazing and Gild- J,1e- Any busiucss entrusted to him will receive prompt attention, and be executed in a workmanlike ftianaer. 4-ny Blooming ton, Nov. 20. From Graham's Magazine. THE FATHER'S BLESSI.YG, BY MRS. 3. A. WHELP LEY. HE wind moaned in low and fitful goits around the mansion, sounding at times, as it the wailitiffs of departed spirits were borne upon the blast, when Mary Levingston sat alone in tlie solitude of her chamber. Her lamp was hid in a recess at a distance, and casting its pale and feeble beams across the darkened room scarcely disclosed her drooping firrure, or the tears upon herchcek. It was not that the fearful tumult without had effected her imagination, nor the thought that her only brother might be exposed to all the dangers of the coast. ".Something that more deeply touch ed her happiness awoke her grief. Wild, tu multuous thoughts agitated her bosom, and mocked the storm that shook her casement, ard roared in all its fury around her. The substantial mansion of Mr. Levingston was situated in a delightful town in New Jer sey. Here he had trained up an interesting and lovely family. Four of his daughters were married three of them were settled in the same town with their father the other re sided in the city of New York. His only son, possessing many virtues, but a wild and roving disposition, had, in opposition to his father's advice, gone to sea, and had not been seen by any of his family for four years. Mary Lev ingston was*the sole remaining daughter at home. J'he was the sun that lit up her fath er's dwelling. Swift and light as the fawn had been her footstep till of late when a cloud had passed over her gentle bosom, and obscu red its brighness. A blast had swept over the flower and it was changed but neither the cloud had been seen, nor the blast heard. Then wherefore this change? It was well known to Mr. Lcvii^gston's fam ily, that a strong and bitter alienation of feel ing existed between himself and Mr. James, an early, and once dear friend, who, at the time of which we speak, resided in New York. So exasperated had Mr. L. become by a series of ungrateful acts on the part of this early friend, that on pain of his everlasting displeasure, he had forbidden his children ever associating with the family. Unfortunately for Mary, du ring a visit to the city, she had met with a son of Mr. James, and it was not until her af fections were unchangeably fixed, that she had discovered his relationship to the most bitter en amy of her father. Admiring Mary at first sight, and conscious of the enmity between the families, her lover had sought an introduction lo her under a false name, and it was lung be fore she discovered the truth. When she did so, however, Iwr determina tion was soon made. Obedience had been the law of her life, and she resolved at once to sac rifice her own feelings, in preference to that of her kind father's wishes. She felt pained, moreover, that her lover should have deceived her even to win her affections. She fled from the scene of danger but she eofcld not fly from herself. In her own bosom she carried the image she had so fondly cherished, and which had been the object of her waking and sleeping dreams. It was after a long struggle, in which she had almost conquered, that she received a letter—which had caused her pres ent grief—written by her sister, and informing her that her lover was about to sail for Europe, and asked for a last interview, if only to beg her forgiveness, and bid her farewell forever. "I will see him," said Mary "and convince him there is no hope, and then I will return and confess all to my beloved father and throw myself upon his tnercy. He will not cast me off when he finds I did not err knowingly." She rose from her chair, as she thus spoke, arranged her dress, and descended to the parlor, with a countenance from which, except to a suspicious eye, every tracc of grief had van ished. You must not leave as so long again, ray daughter," said her venerable father, as she entered the room. My home appears almost cheerless, unless I hearyocr voice. Sinj to us one of your sweet sonys." What shall 1 sing, dear father? Shall it be your favorite, Grace Darling?" Not Grace Darling to-night, my love, it is mournful and tells of shipwreck and death." Well, I will sing my own favorite," said Mary, seating herself at the piano, it shall be 'My heart's in the Highlands, My heart is not here."' Hie parents looked at each other and amiled, as their beautiful daughter struck the keys for they felt that few beings were as lovely as their own Mary. "Dear papa said she at length, suddenly stopping and turning around, 1 want to ask a favor of you,—I am sure mamma will grant it. Let me go to New York next week.— There now, I knew you would,—you are al ways euch a kind and indulgent papa," and throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him tenderly. Well, if mamma gives her consent, I sup pose I must give mine. But, dear Mary, don't come home this time so down-hearted as you did from the last visit you paid your sister.— There now, since you have got your boon, play me another song." Mary felt the blood rush to her very brow at this chance remark of her father but turning around to her piano, she struck into a march, to hide her emotion. In a few days she set forth to New York, with a heart, vaccilating between duty and love,—determined, however, to permit only one interview, and then to bid her lover adieu forever. You will have a strong advocate in my wife," said Mr. to Mr. James, who sat on the sofa by Mary Levingston, the eve ning of her arrival. She is resolved, she says, to return home with her sister, hoping she may be enabled to soften the feelings of Mr. Lev ingston toward your father." I hope she may prove a'successful plead er," said the lover, and prepare the way for my casting myself at his feet when I return. Since I have obtained my sweet Mary's for giveness, i feel that I can now with courage brave the hardships of the deep. The thought that she loves me, will be the sun that will light my path in a distant clime. The thought that she is my advocate with her father fills with the conviction that the ancient enmity wF U E S O A S TH'IIEE O It be buried in oblivion and thai all will sopn Be well." You are far more sanguine, as to the re sult, dear Edward, than I am," said Mary I have little hope myself of succeeding with my father. I know his feelings so well on this point, that I tremble lest I have sinnned be yond forgiveness. One thing, here, in the presence of those that are so dear, 1 solemnly declare, though my heart may be crushed, nev er to unite my destiny to one his judgment dis a*.proves. 1 should feel a solitary outcast, even with him I so tenderly love, without a father's blessing." We shall have it, dear Mary, we shall have your father's blessing," exclaimed Ed ward, pressing her to his.hosom, for God will reward so filial and dutiful a daughter. I sho'd feel myself to be a wretch were I to corrupt such purity, or wish you, for my sake, to sac rifice his peace." We pass over the last two or three hours tha lovers passed together. The clock had toid the departure of midnight before they separa rated. Who could blame them for lengthen ing out an interview that was to be their last for months and perhaps forever? 1 leave you, dear Mary," said Kd ward, at length rising to go, in obedience to the com mands of my father. If God prosper me I shall soon again be with you. Cheer up my love, and remember my motto is "brighter days will come." When Edward arrived in London, he has tened to fulfil the object of his voyage and put his business in a train for sjteedy adjustment. Days seemed to him weeks and Mary could not have doubted his love had she known there was none in that great metropolis who could eclipse her beauty in the eyes of him she so fondly loved. In about three weeks the busi ness which took him to London was settled. Mr. arnes was preparing to return home, when one night, at a laie hour, the cry of' ftrp' resounded through the long halls of the lintel in which he lodged. In an instant all was alarm and confusion. Ho enquired what part of the building was on fire, and was told that the eastern wing was all in flames. He has tened to the scene of danger, which appeared to he entirely forsaken. Nearly suffocated with smoke he returned to retrace his steps, when a *ild scream arrested his attention, and the next instant he beheld a young and beautiful female in her night dress rushing through the llames. "Save, oh save him, for heaven's sake," she exclaimed, save my sick husband, he is perishing! who, who will rescue him 1" "1 will," said Mr. James, but do not on your peril attempt to follow me." In an instant he was lost to sight, but direct ly reappeared, bearing in a blanket the body ot the helpless being ne had been the means o£ snatching from an untimely death. He has tened to his own room and deposited his bur den on the bed, and was administering resto ratives, when his servant informed him tirra the firemen had succeeded in pulling down the eastern wing and were rapidly extinguishing the flames. W e a v e n o i n n o w o e a s a i Mr. James, addressing the young female, who had partly shrunk behind the curtains, to conceal her thinly clad person—" but you are cold," said he, as he threw his own cloak around her, "pardon my neglect." Oh," she exclaimed, bursting into tears talk not of neglect. You have been every thing to us. You have saved the life of my poor husband, and an age of gratitude is ours." Edward now left the room to seek for rest in another apartment. To sleep was impossi ble. The excitement of the past hour had been so great, that his nervous system was completely unstrung, and he passed the night in listening for some alarm. After breakfast he hastened to the room of the invalid, to en quire for his health. Most joyfully was he greeted by both husband and wife, who now appeared to have recovered from the alarm of, the past night. In the course of conversation, Mr. James mentioned that ho was on the point of starting for America. When does the vessel sail 1" inquired the lady anxiously. "This afternoon at four o'clock," replied Mr. James, "and I should like before I say adieu, to become acquainted with the name of those I feel so deep an interest in." Our name is Levingston," said the gentle man. And yours, sir "James." Well, this is remarkable. A Levingston and a James to meet under circumstances that have bound tnem together by cords that death alone can sever!" Long and interesting was the communion of that morning. All was told. The gentleman he had rescued was the long absent brother of his own Mary. The tale of love was revealed, and Eilward persuaded to wait one week lon ger, that they might return together to theif native land. "I shall send despatches to my father by the vessel in which yon expected lo sail, this afternoon," said Mr. Levingston, and if he has any love for his only son, he must receive us as brothers." We now hasten hack to Mary Levingston. After the departure of Edward, fsew York had lost its attractions for her. Mrs. re turned home with Mary. She indulged strong hopes of influencing her father in favor of Mr. James, and inducing him to consent to his un ion with her sister. IIm she was destined to be disappointed. Mr. Levingston would not even listen to her. Ringing the bell, he order ed Mary to be summoned to his presence. When Mary entered the room, her eye fell instantly beneath the steady gaze of her father. 1 have sent for you" said he, to express my deep displeasure at your conduct, and my utter abhorrence for the man who could impose upon such a child as you. Your sister is&ys you love the son of one that, has insulted and abused me. Can it be so, Mary, my child said he bursting into tear3. In a moment Mary was on her knees before him. Forgive me, dear father, I have sinned ig norantly. Forgive me," she exclaimed, "for I here promise to renounce him forever." If this is your determination," said Mr. Levingston, "rise and receive your father's •OH LOOMINGTON, I. T., FRIDAY, MARCH 26, 1841. ±ij. blessing. May you long enjoy the satisfaction of knowing you rendered the last days of your father peaceful and happy." From that hour, Mary Levingston was calm and happy. Innocence and an approving con science supported her. Never," said Mary, to her sister, Mrs. M.* on the morning of her departure, "mention in your letters the name of Mr. James, who in fu ture must be as one dead to me. Tell him, when he returns, that my determination is un alterable, and bid him seek some more congen ial alliance." Weeks rolled round and found the calm qui et of the Levingston's unbroken. The rose was still blooming on the cheek of Mary. No change had taken place in any except Mr. Lev ingston. it was very evident to all his friends that he rapidly failed. Every step«T)f the hill he was descending seemed to fatigue him, and the only cordial that revived his fainting spirit, was the presence of hi youngest child. Was not Mary Levingston, as she trazed on his pale face and feeble frame, rejoiced at the sacrifice she had made to secure his peace Yes, the happiness she now felt was of a calm, endu ring nature. She could lie down and rise up without listening to the upbraidings of a guilty conscience, without having to reflect that it was her rebellion which had dimmed the eye and paralyzed the step of her father. Every night before she retired, she received his em brace, and heard him say, God bless you Ma ry, you have been a dutiful child." Late one evening, in the latter part of Octo ber, a servant entered the parlor where the fam ily was sitting, with a package of letters. He delivered them to Mr. Levingston, and retired. The hand trembled that broke the seal. "Thi3 is from our dear son," eaid he, turn ing to his wife and holding up a letter, Mand here is one f»r each of his sisters. Let me see, two of them are directed to Mary, here they are, take them." He now commenced reading the letter aloud, which told of the prosperity and marriage of his son, and his intention of leaving England for home the following week. Then came the description of the fire. The peril—the rescue the naire of him who had exposed his own life to snatch a stranger from the flames. At this part of the letter Mr. Levingston suddenly stopped and left the room. In his study he finished its perusal. "What does this mean?" he exclaimed, rapidly walking the floor, It seems as though the hand nf God was in this thing. I would that some other one had saved him. Ho asks me to receive his deliverer as my son. Hold request—and yet I will do it. I will receive him as a son, for he has saved the life ot my Walter at the risk of his own. For so gener ous, so noble an act, I here bury my enmity forever." Mr. Levingston, with a lighter heart than he had felt for months, returned to the parlor.— Maiy met him at the door. This letter, dear papa," said she, "I re turn to you. 1 have not read it, neither do I desire to. It is written by one I have renoun ced forever." Keep it, Mary," said Mr. Levingston, and cherish the memory of the writer. I have buried my resentment forever toward that family. From this hour shall we ftot bless the deliverer of our son Mary was astonished. She could scarcely persuade herself that all was not a dream.— Still holding the letter toward her father and gazing immoveably in his face, she seemed rather a statue than a human being. Do you think I am trillrng?" said he, as lie pressed her to his besom. No, Mary, I love you too well for that. From this moment you have my consent to become the wife of him, who, although so tenderly loved, yon felt willing to sacrifice to the peace of your aged father." The intervening days, preceding the arrival of Walter, rapidly glided away in busy prepa ration. Suddenly, however, Mr. Levingston \vns taken dangerously ill at midnight. His symptoms were so alarming that a council of physicians was called before morning, when an express was sent to New York for his chil dren. Calm and collected, Mary Levingston might be seen noiselessly moving about her father's chamber. No hand but hers could administer his medicine, or smooth his pillow. The thought of death—the death of her dear father —had not once crossed her mind. His life seemed so necessary to his family, that such an event appeared impossible. Has he come, Mary 1" Who, dear father?" she asked, stooping and kissing his brow. Walter, my son, has he come It is too soon yet to expect him." Too scon," said he faintly, 1 fear then I shall never see him. The hand of death is on me, my child, I feel its chill." You wiil kill me, dear father, if you talk so. You will soon be better. I thought this was to be the happiest week ot my life," said she, bursting into tears* Mary," observed Mr. Levingston, I wish you to be calm and listen to me. If I should not live to see my son, tell him he was his father's idol. Tell him to transmit the name of Levingston, unsullied, to posterity, and to be the comfort and support of his widowed mo ther. One more message and I am done," said he, wiping the cold sweat from off his brow. "Hark!" he exclaimed, hearing a a noise, perhaps that is Waller." Finding himself disappointed, he proceeded—" request Edward James to tell his father that I die in peace with all men, and joyfully entrust the happiness of my daughter to his son. I had hoped to have given away the treasure with my own hand, but that is all over. Leave me now for a few momeuts, I wish to see your mother." That interview over there was a solemn'si lence for a few moments, when he exclaimed, Did you say he had come Oh my son, re ceive my blessing." You were dreaming, dear father," said Mary, Walter is not here." VVell, well, it is all right," he replied.— He never spoke more in a few hours his spir it took its final flight. It was late in the evening when the mourn ful intelligence of Mr. Levingston's illness HERALD. i*£ A jYJYUJK—JO HJV B, HUSSE L, JMJYB THOMAS HUGHES, EDITORS. reached his children in New York. They in stantly set forth to gain, if possible, his dying couch in time to obtain his blessing. Where is my father?" exclaimed Walter on his arrival at the mansion, rushing by his mother and sisters who had hastened to the door to meet them. Lead me to my father," said he, catching hold of Mary. As she went toward the room, he rushed by her and entered, closed and locked the door. Mary stood without listening to his wild* out bursts of grief. In anguish he callcd upon him once morcfo speak to him. Jt was^the limentatioji ofthe prodigal yearning in vain to hear his father's voice. It was the pleading of the wanderer who had returned with the hope of chcerit his last days. Mary," said a gentle, well known voice, my beloved Mary, we meet with your fath er's blessing resting upon us." In ah instant she was in the arms of Edward James, and wet-ping upon his bosom. Walter Levingston at this moment eutered the apart ment. Did my father ask for me, Mary said he. Oh yes," she replied, often. Almost his last words were, 4 The blessing of many has rested on yon, dear Mary, to-day," said he, as they were borne to their new home. 44 Yes," said she, 44 4 my son receive my bles sing.' And he told me to request you, Ed ward, to say to your father,' I die in peace with all men, and willingly entrust the happiness of my daughter to your son.'" Forever blessed be his memory," said Ed ward. 44 Never shall his confidence be mis placed, or that daughter have reason to doubt my trust." The door now opened, and Mrs. Levingston, leaning on the arm of one of her daughters en tered. 44 bracing her, Beloved mother," said W alter, em 41 first care and study to promote your comfort. Here by the corpse of my father, I resolve to do all in my power to fill his place, and ren der your last (lays peaceful and happy." Some tnonihs from this period, a party was 8een to alight from a carriage early one mor ning in front of Saint Paul's Church. The blessings of many were heard in low murmurs from the crowd that filled the vestibule. was the pride of her father," said an aged te rnale who stood leaning against the wall, 4 from this hour it shall be my 4 44 She 44 1 know she will be a blessing to her husband." Early as was the hour the church w:as crow ded with spectators. Many had risen to get a more perfect view of the fine manly form of him that was about to bear away the sweet Mary Levingston from her maiden home. 'I he si lence was intense as the impressive marriage ceremony ofthe Episcopal Church was read and fervent were the responses of those who promised through weal and wo to be faithful to each other. As the party turned to leave the Chnrch, a hearty "God bless them," re sounded from many. Mrs. James was greatly affected as she cast farewell glance on these familiar faces. Her husband hurried hej to the carriage. and and I thought as I stood before the bridal altar, I heard the voice ofmy departed father saying, God bless you." Old Bachelor*» A -CHAPTER TO BE READ AND PONDER*© YOU. 44 Only my husband pleasant, isn't it?— It is common enough, however, for all that. Nature often makes great mistakes and mis places things shockingly. How frequently do we find the timid, retiring, yielding spirit of a woman in the form of a man—giving place at once, as if like woman, 4 born to be control led.' The whiskers of a tiger, and the propor tion of a Hercules, in innumerable instances, cover a heart with no more boldness or energy in its pulsations, than the little, palpitating af fair which f^»laced in the bosom of a maiden of bashful fifteen while many a lady fair, be fore marriage, all softness and graceful humili ty, bears witiiin her breast the undeveloped fire and indomitable resolution of an Alexan der, a Napoleon or a Crcsar. That soul, which had she been a man, would have quali fied her for a military conqueror or a great thief catching police officer, by being in a female frame, renders her a Xantippe, a Napoleon of the fire-side, aud pens her husuand up like a vanquished king, a prisoner, a spiritless cap tive in his own chimney corner. The whole race of gray mares, and their name is legion, according to our theory, became so by accident. They did not get their own souls they have the souls of men: while the number of men are scattered through the world the henpecked geniuses, with the souls of feminine mould. So it is with our friends, Mr. and Mrs. Fitz crjnr. They are a pattern pair, and exemplify eur notions of the subject to a nicety. Mr. Fitzgig thought himself quite a model of a man be fore lie was unlucky enough to get married, a great mistake. He dreamed that he was chuck full of valor, and fit to lead squadrons to the field, at the sound of drums and trum pets, (especially on the 4th ot July, after lie had swallowed a brace or two of Juleps) he perked up his chin, stuck out his breast, strain ed his hack bone, and believed himselfjust the boy to head a forlorn hope in storming a for tress a great mistake. Hut worst of all, he made Mrs. Fitzgig of Miss Sercphina Serena Plump, taking her for a feminine woman, when the lu king devil in her eye, might have told him that she was a masculine woman, the greatest mistake of the whole troop of blunders. As to the last, however, Fitzgig was a little to blame. He had seen manifestations of Se rephina Plump's dormant energies for he was present when she took a cat by the tail, which had scratched her, whirled it two or ttiree times round her head, and slung it, whiz zing and crashing through the window into the street and he 6aw her bung her father's eye with an egg at breakfast, because he would not promise to buy her a bonnet, with other little affairs ofthe sort but Fitzgig, like our selves, in our 4 sallad days,' as Coleridge calls the time, when we fall in love with bright eyes and such matters, liked a lady noue the worse for a little spark ot tne old un in her compo sition. He believed she loved the harder tor it, and he was satisfied that his own sway could curb all improper manifestations. Alas for Fitzgig! alas for the most of men who ven d& ••SL NO. 22. ture upon the same impressions, upon the same, experience! Fiery ladies may be beantiful,^ so may a kicking poney but tame them if you can. Fitzgig in two weeks was metamorphosed into only my husband. He struggled hard, but who can resist his fate? Mrs. Fitzgig chastised him so with the valor of her tongue and of her deeds,' that his valor was speedily returned non est inventus. 4 4 I'm going out of town, a fishing, to-mor row my dear,' said Fitzgig, as he buckled on 1 his stock before the glass, early one morning but I'll be back my darling, soon the next day.' No you won't, my love,' shrieked Mrs. Fitzgig, as she sat bolt upright in bed, 4 1 see how it is, tired of your poor wife already yes, tired I say tired So saying. Mrs. Fitzgig sprang out of her |n nest, lifted up a pitcher of water, and smashed it all to pieces on the floor. |e Fitzgig felt considerable dashed but eye ing tho pitcher and streaming water, he repeat ed in tremulous tones, 4 I'm going a fishing?' The basin followed the pitcher Mrs. Fitz gig seized the looking glass, and ejaculated If with a significant glance, offish,' so that her dear Thcophilus need not have the trouble of going a fishing. Fitz'*ig sat on the side of the bed for an hour like Marius on the ruins of Carthage, while the storm raged below. At length he sneaked down. 4 Good morning, Mr. Fitzgig going a fish ing, Mr. Fitzgig 4 No, dearest Seraphina Serena,I ain't goin^ a fishing: 1 want my breakfast.' 4 No breakfast here, Mr. Fitzgig a plot against me, Mr. Fitzgig. Sally and Tommy, gone—gone a fishing, iMr. Fitzgig. If you want breakfast, get it yourself.' The battle was over—Fitzgig,. previously broken by the breakage of the brittle ware up stairs, had little suirit left, but to take away his breakfast—to punch him thus in his breadbas ket—was attacking him in the tenderest part. He sued for forgiveness, and after two hours of solicitation, the fiery granted him a pardon, and suffered him to kiss her unwashed cheek. Fitzgig was thus changed into If 4 Going a fishing!' Wh U could Fitzgig do He was concern ed, as they say in the neighborhood of Star and Bank Alley. So he knuckled down close.— L. The war was unexpected and he had not oal culated the cost. J1 No, I believe I ain't going a fishing.' Mrs. ft Fitzgig saw that she had made an impression. |L Her military genius whispered to her to follow it up. It is not enough to rout a foe. The true principle is to demolish him 4 Ah, yon only say that to deceive your poof |r neglected wife there's some mistress that's the fish and you wan't to sneak off.' Now Fitzgig looked conscience stricken.— |f Like all cowards, he did intend to sneak aud his face betrayed him. You are a going a fishing, Mr. Fitzgig,' |, said she, and crash went the mirror against the wall. Mrs. Fitzgig commenced dressing with ex traordinary despatch-, tore the things, upset the table, whirled the lamp at the picture of the |. delights of wedded love, which graced the wall, and, with unwashed face, slammed the door, and marched down stairs, repeating the word 4 4 fishing,'as she passed. What hap pened below we do not know, but the little nigger' was soon heard felling, and there was a terrible turmoil in the kitchen. It was clear that Mrs. Fitzgig was cooking a pretty i. to use hira jl completely up. |t a. 4 kettle 44 only my husband," the humblest of all humble animals. He fetches aud carries, goes errands, lugs band boxes and bundles, takes up the youug Fitz gigs at night, when they squall, aud walks up' anil down the room with them for hours, no matter whether the weather be warm or cold which is the leading duty of 44only my hus band and makes himself particularly scarce w hen any of his wife's grand friends come to see her. He is in fact scarcely ever in a pre sentable condition for Mrs. Fitzgig requires too much money herself to allow him to spend any money for clothes. He does however get nine-pence a week for the purchase of long nines, but very little more. Although he shrinks and looks dutiful now whenever his wife is by, at first he ventured once or twice to grumble and look sulky. These symptoms of insubordination soon ended however. Mrs. F. gave a significant cut with the eye, raised a piece of fragile furniture in her hand, and whis pered in a stern voice Do you waut to go a fishing, Mr. Fitzgig? WASHINGTON AND JEFFERSON.—Washington was not a man of the new era. In no sense was he the representative of the revolution of which he was the military chief. Jefferson was its master mind, far as he was from pos sessing those practical qualities which would have fitted him for the great task performed by Washington, of guiding it to success through ail the dHliciilties that encompassed its struggle for existence. With the divine prophetic gift J* of genius, he understood the Revolution, and had of manity iti advance of his day. Washington was just up to the line, wonderfully as he there towers ed over the men who encompassed him and therefore was the latter the man to do the work of the day—both to sec the thing to be done, and to understand the exact practical way how to do it. The times were not yet tipo for the realization of the democracy of Jefferson. He could oniy plant the seeds of its great ideas and though they met with an apparent univer sal, as it was, an enthusiastic, assent, as they were embodied in tho Declaration of Indepen dence, yet the assent was not a perfect and liv ing conviction. The age did not understand that genius, he understood the Revolution, and i ad a glimpse far down the vista of its future, L: the yet unknown glory and greatness of hu- F, nanitv to which it was to lead. Jefferson was 44 v all men are born free and equal," or, if it did, the idea was yet an abstratet one, an unparalyzed speculaiion, a something destined hereafter to become the perYadinc-, animating principle of onr social organization, but not yet really and practically inwrought into the gen eral texture of the habits of opinion and feel ing of the age. Nor is it indeed yet much .nore, though it has made some sensible prog ress of which we believe that the tendency is to a constantly and increasing acceleration.— M. Guizot.