wife of the aspiring member, before he could proceed further in his expostulations. "Your acquirements are respectable, you ought to be content at the height they have already lifted you. You were only sheriff of Newcomer, and now you are representative."

"Congressman, madam; it is astonishing that you will call things by their most undignified names. Yes-from sheriff to congressman, from congressman to speaker, from speaker to senator, from senator to cabinet minister, from cabinet minister to foreign minister-and who knows but from that to president."

"I see, Mr. Newcomer, it is no use in the world talking to you."

"Humble acquirements! Here, when I first came to Washington, I couldn't go beyond the first course."

"The first what, Mr. Newcomer ?"

"The first course-that is, when you take one dish, you change it for another."

"Before you have finished it, Mr. Newcomer ?"

44

Well, you must know that people are in the habit of calling the political game, the political chess-board, and by that. they explain how politicians ascend from one place to another. Now, madam, I intend more aptly to illustrate that. I am going to call it the political dinner-table, and divide the various gradations of office into the various courses of a dinner. You remember my explanation upon that point, Mrs. Newcomer. Well, the first course, I say, is congress. man; the second, speaker of the House; the third, sena. tor; and so on until you get up to president."

THE BACCHANAL.
BESIDE a cottage door
Sung Ella at her wheel;
Ruthven rode o'er the moor,
Down at her feet to kneel:
A spotted palfrey gay
Came ambling at his side,
To bear the maid away

As his affianced bride.
A high-born noble he,

Of stately halls secure ;
A low-born peasant she,
Of parentage obscure.
How soft the honied words
He breathes into her ears!
The melody of birds!

The music of the spheres!

With love her bosom swells,

Which she would fain concealHer eyes, two crystal wells, Its hidden depths reveal. While liquid diamonds drip From feeling's fountain warm, Flutters her scarlet lipA rose-leaf in a storm!

As from an April sky

The rain-clouds flit away, So from the maiden's eye, Vanish'd the falling spray, Which linger'd but awhile

Her dimpled cheek upon,
Then melted in her smile

Like vapour in the sun.
The maid is all his own-
She trusts his plighted word,
And, lightly on the roan,

She springs beside her lord.
She leaves her father's cot,

She turns her from the doorThat green and holy spot

Which she will see no more!

They hied to foreign lands,

That lord and peasant.maid:
The church ne'er bless'd their bands,
And Ella was betrayed!

Then droop'd that lovely flower,
Torn from its parent stem;

Then fled in evil hour,

The light from out the gem.

They laid her in the ground,
And Ella was forgot-
Dead was her father found
In his deserted cot.
But Ruthven-what of him?
He ran their story o'er,
And, filling to the brim,

He thought of it no more!

G. P. M.

SEVERAL lady readers request the republication of the following, from a late English magazine, which is too sketchy and good not to have a wider circulation.

LOVE AND AUTHORSHIP. "Will you remember me, Rosalie ?" "Yes!"

"Will you keep your hand for me for a year?" "Yes!"

"Will you answer me when I write to you?" "Yes!"

er-before the second course was served ?"

"One request more-O Rosalie, reflect that my life de

marry me in spite of your uncle ?"

J. E. E.

"Twas in a green lane, on a summer's evening, about nine o'clock, when the west, like a gate of gold, had shut upon the retiring sun, that Rosalie and her lover, hand in hand, walked up and down. His arm was the girdle of her waist; hers formed a collar for his neck, which a knight of the garter-ay, the owner of the sword that dubbed himmight well have been proud to wear. Their gait was slow, and face was turned to face; near were their lips while they spoke; and much of what they said never came to the ear, though their souls caught up every word of it.

Rosalie was upwards of five years the junior of her lover. She had known him since she was a little girl in her twelfth year. He was almost eighteen then, and when she thought far more about a doll than a husband, he would set her upon his knee, and call her his little wife. One, two, three years passed on, and still, whenever he came from college, and as usual went to pay his first visit at her father's, before he had been five minutes in the parlour, the door was flung open, and in bounded Rosalie, and claimed her accustomed seat. The fact was, till she was fifteen, she was a child of a very slow growth, and looked the girl when many a companion of hers of the same age began to appear the woman.

When another vacation, however, came round, and The. odore paid his customary call, and was expecting his little wife, as usual, the door opened slowly, and a tall young lady entered, and courtesying, coloured and walked to a seat next the lady of the house. The visiter stood up and bowed, and sat down again, without knowing it was Rosalie.

"Don't you know Rosalie?" exclaimed her father. "Rosalie!" replied Theodore, in an accent of surprise; and approached his little wife of old, who rose and half gave him her hand, and courtesying, coloured again; and sat down again without hardly interchanging a word with him. No wonder she was four inches taller than when he had last seen her; and her bulk had expanded correspondingly, while her features that half a year before gave one the idea of a sylph that would bound after a butterfly, had now mel. lowed in their expression, into the sentiment, the softness, and the reserve of the woman.

Theodore felt absolutely disappointed. Five minutes before, he was all volubility. No sooner was one question answered than he proposed another-and he had so many capital stories for Rosalie, when she came down-and yet, when Rosalie did come down, he sat as though he had not a word to say for himself. In short, everything and every. body in the house seemed to have changed along with its young mistress; he felt no longer at home in it, as he was wont; and in less than a quarter of an hour he made his bow and departed.

Now, this was exceedingly strange; for Rosalie, from a pretty little girl, had turned into a lovely young woman. If a heart looked out of her eyes before, a soul looked out of them now; her arm, which formerly the sun had been allowed to salute when he liked, and which used to bear the trace of many a kiss that he had given it, now shone white through a sleeve of muslin, like snow behind a veil of haze; her bosom had enlarged its wavy curve, and leaving her waist little more than the span it was, sat proudly heaving above it: and the rest of her form, which, only six months ago, looked trim and airy in her short and close-fitting frock, now lengthening and throwing out its flowing line, stood stately in the folds of a long and ample drapery. Yet could not all this make up for the want of the little wife that used to come and take her seat upon Theodore's knee.

To be sure, there was another way of accounting for the young man's chagrin. He might have been disappointed that Rosalie, when five feet four should be a little more reserved than she used to be when she was only five feet nothing. Romantic young men, too, are very apt to fancy odd things. Theodore was a very romantic young man; and having, perhaps, traced for himself the woman in the child-as one will anticipate, in looking at a peach that is just knit, the hue, and form, and flavour of the consummate fruit-he might have set Rosalie down in his mind as his wife in earnest, when he appeared to call her so only in jest. Such was the case. Theodore never calculated that Rosalie knew nothing about his dreams-that she had no such visions herself; he never anticipated that the frankness of girlhood would vanish, as soon as the diffidence of young womanhood began its blushing reign; the thought never oc

curred to him that the day would come when Rosalie would scruple to sit on his knec-ay, even though Rosalie should then begin to think upon him, as for many a year before be had thought upon her. He returned from college the fifth time, he found that the woman which he imagined in a year or two she would become, was surpassed by the woman that she already was; he remarked the withdrawal of confidence, the limitation of familiarity-the penalty which he must inevitably pay for her maturing-and he felt repelled and chilled and utterly disheartened by it.

For a whole week he never returned to the house. Three days of a second week elapsed, and still he kept away. He had been invited, however, to a ball which was to be given there the day following; and much as he was inclined to absent himself, being a little more inclined to go, he went. Full three hours was he in the room without once setting eyes upon Rosalie. He saw her mother and her father, and talked with them; he saw squire this, and doctor that, and attorney such-a-one, and had fifty things to say to each of them; he had eyes and a tongue for everybody but Rosalie -not a look, or a word, did he exchange with her: yet he was here and there and everywhere! In short, he was all communicativeness and vivacity, so that every one remarked how bright he had become since his last visit to college! At last, however, his fine spirits all at once seemed to forsake him, and he withdrew to the library, which was lighted up for the occasion as an ante-room, and taking a volume out of the book-case, threw himself into a chair and began to turn over the leaves.

"Have you forgotten your little wife," said a soft voice near him-'twas Rosalie's "if you have,” she added, as he started from his seat," she has not forgotten you!"

She wore a carnation in her hair-the hue of the flower was not deeper than that of her cheek, as she stood and extended her hands to Theodore, who, the moment he rose, had held forth both of his. "Rosalie!"

"Theodore!"-He led her to a sofa, which stood in a recess on the opposite side of the room, and for five minutes not another word did they exchange.

At length she gently withdrew her hand from his sho had suffered him to hold it all that time.-"We shall be observed," said she.

"You know I am a woman now," rejoined Rosalie, hanging her head; "and-and-will you lead off the next dance with me?" cried she, suddenly changing the subject. There, now; I have asked you!" added she," which is more than you deserve!"-Of course Theodore was not at all happy to accept the challenge of the metamorphosed Rosalie.

One might suppose that the young lady's heart was interested, and that Theodore was a far happier man than he imagined himself to be. The fact was neither more nor less. Little Rosalie was proud of being called Theodore's wife, because she heard everybody else speak in praise of him. Many a marriageable young lady had she heard declare-not minding to speak before a child-that Theodore was the finest young man in B- ; that she hoped Theodore would be at such or such a house where she was going to dine, or spend the evening; nay, that she would like to have a sweetheart like Theodore. Then would Rosalie interpose, and with a saucy toss of the head exclaim, that nobody should have Theodore but Rosalie, for Rosalie was his little wife. "Twas thus she learned to admire the face and person of Theodore, who more than once paid for her acquired estimation of them: for sometimes before a whole room full of company she would march up to him, and scanning him from head to foot, with folded arms, at length declare aloud, that he was the handsomest young man in B. Then Theodore was so kind to her, and thought so much of anything she did, and took such notice of her! Often, at a dance, he would make her his partner for the whole evening; and there was Miss Willoughby, perhaps, or Miss Millar, sitting down; either of whom would have given her eyes to stand up in a recl with Theodore.

But when the summer of her seventeenth year beheld her bursting into womanhood; when her expanding thoughts, from a bounding, fitful, rill-like current, began to run a deep,

a broad, and steady stream; when she found that she was almost arrived at the threshold of the world, and reflected that the step which marks a female's first entrance into it is generally taken in the hand of a partner-the thought of who that partner might be, recalled Theodore to her mind-and her heart fluttered as she asked herself the question-should she ever be indeed the wife of Theodore?

When, this time, he paid his first visit, Rosalie was as much mortified as he was. Her vexation was increased when she saw that he absented himself: she resolved, if possible, to ascertain the cause; and persuaded her mother to give a ball, and especially invite the young gentlemen. He came; she watched him; observed that he neither inquired after her nor sought for her; and marked the excellent terms that he was upon with twenty people, about whom she knew him to be perfectly indifferent. Women have a perception of the workings of the heart, far more quick and subtle than we have. She was convinced that all his fine spirits were forced-that he was acting a part. She suspected that while he appeared to be occupied with everybody but Rosalie-Rosalie was the only body that was running in his thoughts. She saw him withdraw to the library; she followed him, found him sitting down with a book in his hand, perceived, from his manner of turning over the leaves, that he was intent on anything but reading. -She was satisfied that he was thinking of nothing but Rosalie. The thought that Rosalie might one day become indeed his wife, now occurred to her for the thousandth time, and a thousand times stronger than ever; a spirit diffused itself through her heart, which had never been breathed into it before, and filling it with hope and happiness, and unutterable contentment, irresistibly drew it to. wards him. She approached him, accosted him, and in a moment was seated with him, hand in hand, upon the

Bofa!

As soon as the dance was done, "Rosalie," said Theodore, "tis almost as warm in the air as in the room; will you be afraid to take a turn with me in the garden?" I shall get my shawl in a minute," said Rosalie, "and meet you there ;" and the maiden was there almost as soon as he.

They proceeded, arm-in-arm, to the farthest part of the garden; and there they walked up and down without either seeming inclined to speak, as though their hearts could discourse through their hands, which were locked in one another.

"Rosalie!" at last breathed Theodore. "Rosalie !"

breathed he a second time, before the expecting girl could summon courage to say, "Well?"

"I cannot go home to-night," resumed he, "without speaking to you." Yet Theodore seemed to be in no hurry to speak; for there he stopped, and continued silent so long, that Rosalie began to doubt whether he would open his lips again.

"Had we not better go in ?" said Rosalie, "I think I hear them breaking up."

"Not yet," replied Theodore. "They'll miss us!" said Rosalie. "What of that?" rejoined Theodore. "Nay," resumed the maid, "we have remained long enough, and at least allow me to go in."

"Stop but another minute, dear Rosalie !" imploringly exclaimed the youth.

"For what?" was the maid's reply.

"Rosalie," without a pause, resumed Theodore, "you used to sit upon my knee, and let me call you wife. Are those times passed forever? Dear Rosalie!-will you never let me take you on my knee and call you wife again?" "When we have done with our girlhood, we have done with our plays," said Rosalie.

"I do not mean in play, dear Rosalie," cried Theodore. "It is not playing at man and wife, to walk, as such, out of church. Will you marry me, Rosalie ?"

Rosalie was silent.

"Will you marry me?" repeated he. Not a word would Rosalie speak.

"Hear me !" cried Theodore. "The first day, Rosalie, I took you upon my knee, and called you my wife, jest as it seemed to be, my heart was never more in earnest. That day I wedded you in my soul; for though you were a child, I saw the future woman in you, rich in the richest attrac

tions of your sex. Nay, do me justice; recall what you yourself have known of me; inquire of others. To whom did I play the suitor from that day? To none but you, although to you I did not seem to play it. Rosalie, was I not always with you? Recollect now! Did a day pass, when I was at home, without my coming to your father's house? When there were parties there, whom did I sit beside but you? Whom did I stand behind at the piano-forte but you? Nay, for a whole night, whom have I danced with, but you? Whatever you might have thought then, can you believe now, that it was merely a playful child that could have so engrossed me? No, Rosalie! it was the virtuous, generous, lovely, loving woman, that I saw in the playful child. Ro. salie! for five years have I loved you, though I never declared it to you till now. Do you think I am worthy of you? Will you give yourself to me? Will you marry me? Will you sit upon my knce again and let me call you wife?"

Three or four times Rosalie made an effort to speak, but desisted, as if she knew not what to say, or was unable to say what she wished, Theodore still holding her hand. At last, "Ask my father's consent!" she exclaimed, and tried to get away; but before she could effect it, she was clasped to the bosom of Theodore, nor released until the interchange. of the first pledge of love had been forced from her bashful lips!-She did not appear, that night, in the drawing-room again.

Theodore's addresses were sanctioned by the parents of Rosalie, The wedding day was fixed-it wanted but a fortnight to it-when a malignant fever made its appear. ance in the town: Rosalie's parents were the first victims. She was left an orpan at eighteen, and her uncle, by her mother's side, who had been nominated her guardian in a will, made several years, having followed his brother-in-law and sister's remains to the grave, took up his residence at B.

Rosalie's sole consolation now was such as she received

from the society of Theodore; but Theodore soon wanted and died, leaving his affairs, to the astonishment of every consclation himself. His father was attacked by the sever one, in a state of the most inextricable embarrassment; for

he had been looked upon as one of the wealthiest inhabitants of B. This was a double blow to Theodore, but he was not aware of the weight of it till after the interment of his father, he repaired, for the first time, to resume his

visits to his Rosalie.

He was stepping up without ceremony to the drawingroom, when the servant begged his pardon for stopping him, telling him at the same time, that he had received instructions from his master to show Theodore into the parlour, when he should call.

"Was Miss Wilford there?"

"No."-Theodore was shown into the parlour. Of all savage brutes, the human brute is the most pernicious and feriour animal the mental faculties of the superiour one. revolting, because he unites to the evil properties of the inAnd then he is at large. A vicious-tempered dog you can muzzle and render innocuous; but there is no preventing the human dog that bites from fleshing his tooth-he is sure measurably more severe !-the quick of the mind is so much to have it in somebody. And then the infliction is so imthat runs on four legs is so inferiour in performance to him more sensitive than that of the body! Besides, the savage that walks upon two! 'Tis he that knows how to gnaw! I have often thought it a pity and a sin that the man who plays the dog, should be protected from dying the death of one. He should hang, and the other go free.

"Well, young gentleman!" was the salutation which what brings you here?" Theodore received when he entered the parlour; "and pray

Theodore was struck dumb; and no wonder.

"Your father, I understand, has died a beggar!-Do you think to marry my niece?" If Theodore respired with dif ficulty before, his breath was utterly taken away at this. He was a young man of spirit, but who can keep up his heart when his ship all at once is going down?"

The human dog went on. "Young gentleman, I shall be plain with you, for I am a straight-forward man; young women should mate with their matches-you are no match for my niece; so a good morning to you!"-How much more in place to have wished him a good halter! Saying this, the straight-forward savage walked out of the room,