The National Era from Washington, District of Columbia • 1

terms of subscription. The National Era is published every on the following terms Single copy, one year $2.00 Three copies, one year 5.00 fire copiee, one year 8.00 Ten copies, one year 15.00 copy, six months 1.00 Ten copies, six months 8.00 Vduntary amenta are entitled to retain 50 commission on each yearly, and 26 cents on each semi-yearly, subscriber, the case of Clubs. I Clnb of fire subscribers, at $8, will entitle the person making it up to a copy for 6 months; i Clnb of ten, at $15, to a copy for one year. a Club has been forwarded, additions be made to it, on the same terms. WASHINGTON, D.

C. 1 For the National Kra. MRS. HADDEN. CHAPTER XTV.

The next day, Arthur Fletcher was out fishing through an opening, made for that purpose, in the ice on the river; and some yoang men were skating near, gracefully sweeping the graceful bends of the stream, hither and thither. Junie Hadden was with them. He had rode over, for an hour or so with the Bridge boys;" and finding them ont on the ice, he had taken i-me skates from Mr. Tillotson's store, and came out to them: had been greeted with a U.ij/tan tt i 1 G. BAILEY, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR; JOHN G.

WHITTIER, CORRESPONDING EDITOR. VOL. X. WASHINGTON, D. THURSDAY, AUGUST 21, 1856.

NO. 503. i i merry "iiauo: nuioi uamie set ail tbe echoes of the hills and barns about to saving, "Hallo! hillo! Jamie Hadden! Madden lladden A salmon trout, a handsome fellow, caught away, bit by bit, the last morsel of Arthnr Fletcher's carefully-selected, carefully fixed bait, while, concealed by a huge rock that jutted out, he looked on the jolly greetings aud hand shakings of the youngsters. By and by, something was amiss with one of Arthur Cabot's skates, when he and Jamie (who for some time had been abstractedly steering ooe way aud another, by themselves) drew up to the shore, and sat down on some rocks close by the large one beyond which Arthur Fletcher lie's a capital fellow, uncle Arthur is I know that; nobody knows more about that than 1 do: for, you see, he's given me more than ten dollars, one time and another, since he's been here, without once asking, or looking into my fate as if he wanted to ask, how I was going to iper.d it. That's all the best of it, don't you think so?" Cabot looked up, laughing, from the ccrds he was disentangling The old man'1 (he meant his father) is particular, you lie's afraid I'll be guzzling brandy every hour of my life, if I have the chink by me, I suppose, because he has happened to see me pretty well boozled twice." "Has he?" Jamie asked, starting.

He lias, old fellhw! looking down on his work with a gathering frown, and jerking the cords. Jamie did not apeak. He 8at with his thoughtful eyes on the far-off, misty-blue hills. 1 suppose you don't think much better of my brandy-drinking than I do of your Know Nothingism," said Cabot, at length, without looking up, without letting his frown go at all. "Thev're both mean enough, if the truth' is known; but you followed good men, you say, into your Know Xothingism I can say that I followed good men into my brandy-drinking." Jamie looked up, inquiringly, with the thoughtful eye9 still, still with the Borry mouth and chin.

You aay you followed uncle Arthur, Dr. Hammond, Esquire Such-a-one, and Eaqnire Thia-one," resumed Cabot. "I followed precisely the same men when I drank my brandy. You are surprised, I see; perhaps you doubt it; but ir's a fact. When these men are with a certain set, under certain circumstances of nlace and time, they drink brandy.

Thia is all 1 do. lis all I ever mean to do. I never mean to get boozled again; I don't suppose that uncle Arthur, or Dr. Hammond, either, trfr boozled. Good! now the thing will do," shaking his foot, to try the firmness of the skate.

Come, old fellow starting to his feet?" I've given you the blues, I see. Too bad! For, there's one thing vou and the old gentleman may depend will never be a drunkard, or anything mean. I will drink a little now and then. I won't work very hard, if I can any way live without it" 0, Arthur! you don't know, then, what is jrood lor us young men in this life," interrupted Jamie, speaking earnestly, looking earnestly into Arthur's face. think 1 do.

I like the way uncle Arthur lives. Hunting, into the Legislature, lot the fun of it, without caring a devil for the handsome chambers, books strewed around, handsome slippers, and robe 'le chamhre, hound and good-blooded steed, wine once a day or so, brandy (tut!) once when it comes in, all the life for me. And, think of it as you will, my Jamie Hadden, my good fellow, (for I honestly think you are the Dest fellow in the world, not to except 'our it is exactly the life of my uncle Arthur, the man you look I up to as if you thought he were a sort of Jesus, leads. Fact! Jamie did not speak; he was bending low over his skates, standing, as if to try their adjustment. a mighty lot of humbug and silliness in this world, Jamie did you know it?" asked Arthur, describing a circle on his skates.

"Uucle Arthur thinks he's good; but he's or something of that The old man (the frown that came at every mention of his father, coming now) "thinks he's good, but he's as rigid and set ami cross as the devil. He is! He's one of your one-idea men. Some of these men? they're calling ua they're for of these men are for Slavery that is, for the abolition of it; and they don't know, you can't 'onvince them that there's another evil iu the country but Slavery. Even so much disunion and smashing up are nothing. Nothing is anything, but Slavery.

The old man's hobby is temperance, and has been, whenever there's the least thing to stir him op in this direction, these twenty years. If a boy drinks anything beyond home-brewed beer, he's on the road to perlition, it be hasn't one other unlookv habit under heaven. If a man drinks a little, ever lixt he may be the best-hearted man that ever lived, may have ten good things about him, tj my father's one, bat it's nothing. He's perdition, fairly. In this way, he helps drive a tallow there, if he did bat know it! If 1 ever a drunkard, (yes, Jamie, as yon say, 'God but if I ever am, I know what I shall do.

1 shall lift my hand so," thrusting a taking hand up into the air; "looking back to my father like this," with a horrible frown, a horrible gesture of defiance and scorn, I kali say to JTon did it, sir Trying to 'frirt me away from it; whsn I a great off, and in no danger, you drove me into and here I am here I He screamed tie words with both hands aloft, thrust a little 'orward, and energetically spread, as if be were a demon. I should say to my uncle continued he, after a brief pause, and comipg down at once, I should say to him, 4 You led uncle, but yon didn't mean This would he enough to say to him. Saying this would half-kill him, half-kill me; for there's something about him, this something that you spoke that I love with all my soul. I dou't he knows it, or thinks of it; bat one that takes hold of ns young fellows, of everybody, as he does, or can do, when he lays himself out, ought to be pretty careful how he orders his steps. Whoop! hurra! see this! He was calling out to the others.

He went like lighting to meet them; they, answering his call, coming like lightning to meet him. Ag lor poor Jamie, he followed slowly, mechanically, with his heavy, troubled heart. As for Arthur Fletcher, who had overheard il that passed, God knows how his heart quaked, and in what new emotions of selfaccuaatiou and fear. He went home like one in a dream, leaving his brace of fish and half his fcshing-tackle lying there on the ice and cn the shore. He would have felt 4' a a burden" in that hour.

It was made owo to him, moreover, in that hour, that fc there are other works for one like him to be doing here among tnen, than lying in wait, day after day, for the creatures of the stream. CHAPTER XV. Sloshv day, Mr. Fletcher," remarked the yeoman, Crockett, as he was driving his slowest of all slow ox-teams along past Colonel Cabot's wide gate. Arthur Fletcher ana Bis namesake were there, harnessing, as if in haste.

What, sir asked Fletcher, pausing a little in his work. Sloehy day under foot; ter'ble wet, like lifting his Btout boot, to show how it was soaked. Whoa, hish to his oxen. Whoa! hish don't ye hear?" The oxen heard, and halted. Mr.

Crocket, twisting his awkward limbs into all manner of contortions conceivable in the simple process of locomotion, came up to the gate, hung both arms above his elbows over it, to ask Mr. Fletcher how kr thought town meet'n was "like to go." Fletcher forced himself to be gracious, and to wait, even to-see Mr. Crockett take himself off the gate the third time, as if he were going, only to settle again, (this time with his back to the gate,) to thrust his elbows over, and launch off upon another consideration of town meetin' and politics." At last he was off. And then, with a snap of the whip, and a ch'ck from young Cabot, he and Arthur Fletcher were off. their faces towards It was a splendid day, the very last of February.

The sleighing was perfect after they left the village, albeit signs of the coming spring were on all the earth and sky, as they rode on over the hills, in sight of the distant mountains past the farm-yards, where the cattle were lowing and the sheep bleating, as if with love and longing for the pastnres and the wood. They met Squire Blake when almost over to He was letting his horse plod, with his own chosen, sleepy gait, up a slight ascent, when they met him, while he, with his chin dropped on his breast, watched, abstractedly, the A's and V's his whip-lash was describing in the soft snow. A hah 1" said he, like one waking, when he saw them. His horse stopped; and then young Cabot drew in his rein. Our horses up here in New Hampshire learn, about this time of the year, ('lection time, ycu know,) to stop at every team they said the good-natured Squire, laughing a little.

Bound for Yes, sir." Mr. Hadden's, if I may ask?" as if he were a good deal ashamed or afraid to ask. For Mr. Hadden's, Squire Blake," answered Fletcher, with a look of straight-forward honesty on all his handsome face. Any commands? "No, I believe not," with a great unconscious shrug and sigh, unconsciously falling again to lashing the snow gently, and to watching the effect.

I've just come trom there, if the truth is known," tucking in his buffalo robe now, and taking a survey of things in general about his equipments. I've been there, Mr. Fletcher," now looking up with an expression of recently-achieved self mastery. "And now I've come away. I hope you 11 come away with a little better spirits than I have.

Good day, Bir." Arthur Fletcher went on his way thoughtfully, now and then bringing himself to say some fresh thing to his companion; for the rest, pitying Squire Blake; and, in spite of all the little admonitions of Caution, looking to his own future with "a sober oertaintv of ma. king Young Cabot, too, had his visions of a coming brightness. He, every now and then, with a glad sounding voice, broke in with?" Good 1 Jamie Hadden will go right up, you see," suiting his words with the spirited action of his whip, and walk on the air, some, when I tell him where I'm bound. I've seen nothing siuce the poor fellow was over to the Bridge the other day, nothing in the world, but the sorry face he had when I told him what a devil of a way I was getting to. Ch'ck, Tom I we two are in a hurry! I've been wondering what makes me sure of doing all I want to; and I know, in the first place, I hadn't got very deep in the mire, you see; I hadn't got so as to soak down the brandy, because I loved the taste of it, exactly, or the fuddle.

I drank it generally when I was vexed with ther, or was so tired of that miserable counter, that I didn't know or care what I did with myself. Besides, you've got hold of rae. I'll venture myself now. Ch'ck, Tom! Father used to talk, before me, of what Gilmore of Concord had done, and the Lawrences of Boston but didn't I know I could never do, as a merchant, what they had done? If I had had a genius and a liking for it, so that I could I have struck off at once into the right path, and beguu to climb, I wouldn't have minded it. I I should have liked it.

Just let me feel that I'm climbing, and I don't care a pin how rough and hard the Bteps are. But to be forever barred in there, scooping teas and sugar, and measuring calicoes, with my hankering and thirsting after air, stir, and study, you see. But I then, after all, I'd no business to make the matter ten times worse, by flying to brandy and 1 to complete idleness, and all manner of rollick1 ing, had I No young man has a right to be doing that thing. He can wait, and watch, and 6ee what will turn up; if not early, why, then, late. Can't he, Tom Tom, we are almost there, Tommy." "Jamie!" said young Cabot, beckoning him before he fairly got his overcoat off.

The two went away together, and nothing more was seen of them until the tea-bell rang. Then they came down from Jamie's chamber, their little fingers locked together, their countenances, bright, but showing the traces of strong feeling. Now, while the young men were above stairs, talking, rolling bits of paper mechanically in their lingers, mechanically picking them into tinier bits, Mr. aud Mrs. Hodden, alia, and Arthur Fletcher, were all beside or near Mrs.

work table, in the parlor, considering young Cabot and Jamie's future, and laying plans and, while they considered and laid plans, Mrs. Hadden, at least more than once, dropped her part of the colloquy, quite losing herself, thinking that, certainly, she had never known Arthur Fletcher until pow. It had always been easy enough to find intelligence in him, and all manner of learning, and of spirit, too, when stirred; but now she saw something feeling, gentle, loving wisdom, shaping all his discourse, giving manliness and light to all his expression. She went out, at last, to see what little Kate was doing for tea. Mr.

Hadden, at the same time, went to bring his J'ributu from the office? that was the day for generally got it the hour that it came, he said?" for my wifehe looked back, to add, as he was following Mrs. Hadden course, I don't myself care anything about the Whig and Abolition ooncern." Ah contended Mrs. Hadden, tncking her head back into the room, close by his shoulder, "don't believe him, Arthur Fletcher! he devours it, every word of it 1 I can't get it for two whole hours, and sometimes more, too; unless something comes along that he must attend to." Mr. Hadden had hold of bpf1, $nd was taking her along the hall to the kitchen door, before she was through with her laughing protest. Miss Yeeey," Fletcher, the moment they were left alone.

Her hand lay on the ta. ble; his, supported by his el boy, had been raised to his head but, in speaking to her, let it fall and lay on hers. She looked up and denly, startled by the tones of his voice, and bj the electrie touch of his hand thep she dropped her eyes, dropped her head more and more, as he told her what esteem and love had for her; how she could not know, how nc woman, with her gentler woman's nature, conld know, the strength of his love for her, or necessity he felt of being loved by her in re turn. Julia thought that she conld know, and did, even with her gentler woman's nature: but ako not raise her head, or speak, until he urged her, boldiug her hand and wria( A i in both his, and with his head close by hers, to tell him whether there was anything for him to hope. Coald she lore him, by aod by, when he had shown her that he was worthy of a heart like hers, that he could make her happy? Yes," Jalia said, with choking voice, and dropping her head still lower.

Wherenpon, he drew her nearer to him, as he asked if he could be so happy as to hope, to believe, that she loved him then. Yes, she loved him then. She had loved him, even as he had her, from the first hour they met And then, with her head lying on his shoulder, he was silent; giving thanks to God for that great blessing; vowing, before Him, that she should forever look back to that hour, as the one in which she had sealed, not his joy only, but her own also. For the National Era. THE SUE ST.

BT RUTH HARPER. The maiden, at her casement, was chanting low aud sweet; With silken twine on tissue rare, her white and fleet, Traced bud and flower and foliage, and ever, as she wrought, A smile bioke o'er her lovely face, from some sweet hidden thought. A stranger sought the portal; he was old and travelworn He said, I hare not taated food since early yeater-morn. Thou I am wearied sore, and maiden fair, of thee, Who toil or want hast never known, beseech I charity. She laid aside her broidery, and spoke with accents sweet; Then led him to a chamber fair, and bathed his burning feet; She brought him pure white raiment, and food, fair wheaten bread, And bade him rest his weary frame upon the downy bed.

Then, as she was departing, athwart the purple gloom, Made by the silken drapery, that shadowed all the room, Came streams of goldeu brightness; she turned, and standing there, Instead of outworn pilgrim, taw an angel, calm and fair. And a voice of untold gweetueHS, like harp-strings ringing clear, Fell on her sense in music, while she hushed her heart to hear. It spake: fair young maiden, His blessing on thee be, Who kind deeds to lowliest ones are likewise done to In guise of wanderer needy, already thrice to-day, With scoffing words I have been driven from lordly hall away. Thou, tried, art found not wanting; I therefore summon thee, In seven days, at God's right hand, to join the blest with me." The radiant vision faded; the angel-voice was stilled; Deep peace, a heavenly blessedness, the mniden's bosom filled. No sickness fell upon her; yet on the seventh day, With pure hands meekly folded, in death's sweet sleep she lay.

DRED: A TALE OF THE GREAT DISMAL SWAMP. BY MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. CHAP. XXI.

Frank Russel's Opinions. Clayton was still pursuing the object which he had undertaken. He determined to petition the Legislature to grant to the slave the right of seeking legal redress in cases of injury; and, as a neceseary step to this, the right of bearing testimony in legal action. As Frank Russel was a candidate for the next State Legislature, he visited him for the purpose of getting him to present such a petition. Our readers will look in on the scene, in a small retired back room of Frank's office, where his bachelor establishment as yet was kept.

Clayton had been giving him an earnest account of his plans and designs. "The only safe way of gradual eraancipatio," said Clayton, is the reforming of law; and the beginning of all legal reform must of course be giving the slave legal personality. it ot no use to enact laws tor his protection in his family state, or in any other condition, till we open to him an avenue through which, if they are violated, his grievances can be heard, and can be proved. A thousand laws for his eomfort, without this, are only a dead letter." know it," said Frank Russel; "there never was anything under heaven so atrocious as onr slave code. It's a bottomless pit of op? pression.

Nbbody knows it so well as we lawyers. But, then, Clayton, it's quite another thing what's to be done about it." Why, I think it's very plain what's to be done," said Clayton. Go right forward and i enlighten the community. Get the law reform- ed. That's what I have taken for my work; and, Frank, you must help me." i "Hum!" said Frank.

Now, the fact is, Clayton, if I wore a stiff white neckcloth, and had a D. D. to my name, I should tell you that the interests of Zion stood in the way, and that it was my duty to preserve my influence, for the sake of being able to take care of the Lord's affairs. But, as I am not so fortunate, I most just say, without further preface, that it won't do for me to compromise Frank Rusael's in- teresta. Clayton, I can't afford just it.

It won't do. You see, our party can't take up that kind of thing. It would be just Betting up a fort, from which our enemies could fire on ns at their leisure. If I go into the Legislature, I have to go in by my party. I have to repre- sent my party, and, of course, I can't affora to do anything that will compromise them." Well, now, Frank," said Clayton, seriously and soberly, "are you going to put your neck into such a noose as this, to be led about all your life bond-slave of a party "Not by a good dealt" said Russel.

"The noose will change ends, one of these days, and I'll drag the party. But wa must all stoop to conquer, at first. And do you really propose nothing more to yourself than how to rise in the world said Clayton. "Isn't there any great and good work that has beauty for yon Isn't there anything in heroism and self-sacrifice?" Well," said Russell, after a short pause, may be there is; but, after all, Clapton there? 1 The world looks to me like a confounded hum- 1 bug, a great hoax, and everything is going in for grub; and, I say, hang it all, why shouldn't i f- MOTC OUUJC VUC cad well CMS U1C Mao shall not live by bread alone I said Clayton. 1 Bread's a pretty good thing, though, after 1 all," said Frank, shrugging his shoulders.

'But," said Clayton, Frank, I am in ear- 1 nest, and you've got to be. I want yon to go 1 with me down to the depths of your soul, where the water is still, and talk to me on honor. This kind of half-joking way that you have isn't a good Qign, Frank it's too old for you. A man that makes a joke of everything at your age, what 1 will he do before he is fifty? Now, Frank, you do know that this system of Slavery, if we don't reform it, will eat out this country like a cancer." I know it," said Frank. For that matter, jt has eaten into ns pretty well." 1 Now," said Clayton, "if for nolhing else, if we had no feeling of humanity for the slave, we must do something for the sake of the whites, 1 for this is carrying us back into barbarism, as i fast as we can go.

Virginia has been ruined 1 by all down. North Carolina, I believe, has the enviable notoriety of being the most ig- i norant and poorest State in the Union, don't i believe there's any country in old, despotic Eu- i rope, where the poor are more miserable, vicious, and degraded, than they are in our slave States. And it depopulating us our rpen of ability, i in the lower classes, who want to be respecta- I ble, won't stand it. They will go off to some State where things move oh. Hundreds and i hundreds move out of North Carolina, every I year, to the Western States.

And it's all this i unnatural organization of society that dpes it. i We have got to contemplate some mode for i abolishing this evil. We have got to take the first step towards progress, some time, or we ourselves are all undone." i Clayton," said Frank, in a tone not quite as serious as his own, I tell you, as a solemn fact, that we can't do it. Those among us who have got the power in their hands are determined to keep it, and they are wide awake. They don't mean to let the first step be taken, i because they don't mean to lay down their power.

The three-fifths vote that tbey get by it is a i thing they won't part with. They'll die first, i Why, just look at it! There is a least twentyfomr millions of property held in this way. What do jou suppose these men care about the poor whites, and the ruin of the State, and all I that The poor whites may go the devil, for all them; and as for the ruin of the State, it i won't come in their day and (after us the del- you know. That's the talk! These men I are our masters; they are yours; they are mine: tbey are masters of everybody in these United States. They can crack their whips over the i head of any statesman or clergyman, from Maine i to New Orleans, that disputes their will.

They I govern the country. Array, navy, treasury, church, state, everything is theirs; and whoever is going to get up must go up on their ladder. There isn't any other ladder. There isn't i aa interest, not a body of men, in these whole i United States, that they can't control; and I tell you, Clayton, you might as well throw ashes into the teeth of the north wind, as undertake i to fight their influence. Now, if there was any hope of doing any good by this, if there was the least prospect of succeeding, why, I'd join in with you; but there isn't.

The thing is a fixed fact, and why shouldn't I climb up on it, as well as everybody else xi.a:? xiuuiiuk is uieu, sam "mat isn't fixed in right God and nature fight against evil." I They do, I suppose; but it's a long campaign," said Frank, "and I must be on the side i that will win while I'm alive. Now, Clayton, i to you I always speak the truth; I won't humbug you. I worship success. I am of Frederick the Great's creed, 1 that Providence goes with the strongest i I wasn't made for defeat. I must have i power.

The preservatisn of this system, whole i and entire, is to be the policy of the leaders of this generation. The fact is, they stand where it must be their policy. They must spread it i over the whole territory. They must get the i balance of power in the country, to build them selves up against the public opinion of mankind, i Why, Clayton, moral sentiment, as you call it, is a humbug 1 The whole world acquiesces 1 in what always have. There is a i great outcry about Slavery now but let it sue- i ceed, and there won't be.

When they can out- i vote the Northern States, they'll put them down, i They have kept them subservient by intrigue so far, and by and by they'll have the strength i to put them down by force. England makes a fuss now but let them only succeed, be as civil as a sheep. Of course, men always i make a fuss about injustice, when they have nothing to gain by holding their tongues but England's mouth will be stopped with cotton? you'll see it. They love trade, and hate war. And so the fuss of Anti-Slavery will die out in the world.

Now, when you see what a poor i hoax human nature is, what's the use'of bother- i ing The whole race together aren't worth a i button, Clayton, and self-sacrifice for such fools i is a humbng. That's my programme I Well, Frank, yon have made a clean breast; so will I. The human race, as you say, may be a humbng, but it's every man's duty to know for himself that he isn't one. am not. I do i not worship success, and will not.

And if a i cause is a right and honorable one, I will labor i in it till I die, whether there is any chanoe of i succeeding or not." I "Well, now," said Frank Russel, "I dare I say it's so. I respect your sort of folks; you form an agreeable heroic poem, with which one can amuse the tediousness of life. I suppose it won't do you any good to tell you that you are getting immensely unpopular, with what you i are doing." i No," said Clayton, it won't." "I am really afraid," said Russel, "that they'll 1 mob you, somg of these bright days." i Very well," said Clayton. of course, I knew it would very well; i but say, Clayton, what do you want to get up a petition on thai point for? Why don't you get up one to prevent the separation of families There's been such a muss made about that in Europe, and all round the world, that it's rather i the fashion to move about that a little. Poli- ticians like to appear to intend to begin to do something about it.

It has a pleasing effect, and gives the Northern editors and ministers something to say, as an apology for our sins, Besides, there are a good many siruple-hearted folks, who don't see very deep into things, that really think it possible to do something effective on this subject. If yon get up a petition for that, you might take the tide with you and I'd do something about it, myself." "You know very well, Frank, for I told you, that it's no use to pass laws for that, without giving the slaves power to sue or give evidence, in case of violation. The improvement I pro- pose touches the root of the matter." That's the surely does I said Rus- jel. And, for that very reason, you'll never carry it. Now, Clayton, I just want to ask you one question.

Can yon fight? fight? Will you wear a bowie-knife and pistol, and shoot every fellow down that comes at you Why, no, of course, Frank. You know that never was a fighting man. Such brute ways are not to my taste." Then, my dear sir, you shouldn't set up for a reformer in Southern States. Now, I'll tell pou one thing, Clayton, that I've heard. You made some remarks at a public meeting, up at that have started a mad-dog cry, which I suppose came from Tom Gordon.

See here; bave you noticed this article in the Trumpet ojf Liberty?" said he, looking over a confused stack of papers on his table. Where's the article here it is." At the same time he handed Clavton a sheet bearing the motto "Liberty and tJnion, now and forever, one and inseparable," and pointed to an article headed Covert Abolitionism Citizens, Bevoare 1 We were present, a few evenings ago, at the 1 closing speech delivered before the Washington i Agricultural Society, in the course of which the i speaker, Mr. Edward Clayton, gratuitously wan- i iered away from his subject, to make inflamma- I tory and seditious comments on the state of the i laws which regulate our negro population. It a is time for the friends of our institutions to be swake. Such remarks, dropped in the ear of restless and ignorant population, will be a fruitful source of sedition and insurrection.

This young man is supposed to be infected with the virus of Northern Abolitionists. We cannot too narrowly watch the course of such individuals for the only price at which we can maintain liberty is eternal vigilance. Mr. Clayton be- a longs to one of our oldest and most respected a families, which makes his cqnduct the more Clayton perused this with a quiet smile, which was usual with him. 1 "The hand of Joab is in that thing," said Frank Russel.

"I'm sure I said very little," said Clayton. I was only showing the advantage to our agri- IE culture of a higher tone of moral feeling among our laborers, which of course led me to speak of a the state of the law regulatjng them, said nothing but what everybody knows." But, don't you know, Clayton," said Russel, that if a fellow has an bear- i ing him the least he puts a tremen- dous power in his hands by making such re- marks Why, our cqmmop people ftre so ignorant that they are in the hands of anybody who wants to nse them. They are just like a swarm of bees you can manage them by beat- ing qn a tin pan. And Tom Gordon has got the tin pan now, I fancy. Tom intends to be a swell.

is a born bully, and he'll lead ft rabble. And so you must take care. Your family is considerable for you but, after all, it won fc stand yon in stead for everything. Who have you got to back you Who have you talked with Well," said Clayton, I have talked with some of the ministry And, of course," said Frank, "you found that the leadings of Providence didn't indicate that they are to be martyrs! You have their prayers in tecret, I presume; and if you ever the cause on the upper hill-side, they'll come out and preach a sermon for you. Now, Clayton, I'll tell you what I'll do.

If Tom Gordon attacks you, I'll pick a quarrel with him, and shoot him, right off the reel. My stomach isn't nice about those matters, and that sort of thing won't compromise me with my party." Thank vou," said Clayton, I shall not trouble you." My dear said Russel, you philosophers are very much mistaken about the use of carnal weapons. As long as you wrestle with flesh and blood, you had better use fleshly means. At any rate, a gentlemanly brace of pistols won't hurt you; and, in fact, Clayton, I am serious. You rntut wear are no two ways about it.

Because, if these fellows Itnow thai a man wears pistols, and will use them, it keeps tbem off. They have an objection to being shot, as this is all the world they are likely to have. And I think, Clayton, you can fire off a pistol in as edifying and dignified a manner as you can say grace on proper occasions. The fact is, before long there will be a row kicked up. I'm pretty sure of it.

Tom Gordon iB a deeper fellow than vou'd think, and han booked himself for Congress and he means to go in on the thunder-and-blazes principle, which will give him the vote of all the rabble. He'll go into Congress to do the fighting and slashing. There always must be a bully or two there, you know, to knock down fellows that you can't settle any other way. And nothing would suit him better, to get his name up, than heading a crusade against an Abolitionist." said Clayton, "if it's come to that, that we can't speak and discuss freely in onr own State, where are we Where are we, my dear fellow Why, I know where we are; and if you don't, it's time you did. Discuss freely Certainly we can, on one side of the question or on both sides of any other question than this.

But this you can't discuss freely, and they can't afford to let vou, as long as they mean to keep their power. Do you suppose they are going to let these poor devils, whites, get their bandages off their eyes, that make them so easy to lead now There would be a pretty bill to pay, if they did I Just now, these fellows are in as safe and comforta- I ble a condition for use as party could desire; because they have votes, and we have the guiding of thein. And they rage, and swear, and tear, for our institutions, because they are fools, and don't know what hurts them. Then, there's the niggers. Those fellows are deep.

They have as long ears as little pitchers, and they are snch a sort of fussy set, that whatever is going on in the community is always in their mouths, and so comes up that old fear of insur- rectiou. That's the awful word, Clayton That lies at the bottom of a good many things in our State, more than we choose to let on. These negroes are a black well; you never know what's at the bottom." "Well," said Clayton, "the only safeguard to prevent this is reform. They are a patient set, and will bear a great while; and if they i only see that anything is being done, it will be an effectual prevention. If you want insurrec- 1 tion, the only way is to shut down the escape valve; for, will ye nill ye, the steam must rise.

You see, in this day, minds will grow. They are growing. There's no help for it, and there's no force like the force of growth. I have seen a rock split in two by the growing of an elmtree that wanted light and air, and would make way up through it. Look at all the aristocracies of Europe.

They have gone down under this force. Only one has of England. And how came that to stand Because it knew when to yield; because it never confined discussion; because it gave way gracefully before the growing force of the people. That's the reason it stands to-day, while the aristocra- cy of France has been blown to atoms." My dear fellow," said Russel, this is all very true and convincing, no doubt: but you won't make our aristocracy believe it. They have mounted the lightning, and they are going to ride it, whip and spur.

They are going to Cuba and the sandwich Islands, and the Lord knows what, and have a great and splendid slaveholdiug empire. And the North is to be what Greece was to Rome. We shall govern it, and it will attend to the arts of life for us. The South understands governing. We are trained to rule from the cradle.

We liave leisure to rule. We have nothing else to lo. The free States have their factories, and iheir warehouses, and their schools, and their internal improvements, to GJ1 up their minds ind, if we are careful, and don't tell them too slain where we are taking them, they'll never mow it till they get there." Well," said Clayton, there's one element force that you've left out in your calculation." "And what's that?" said Russel. God I said Clayton. I don't know anything about him," said Mussel.

You may have occasion to learn, one of hese days," Baid Clayton. I believe he is dive yet." 1 The Hon. Josiah Quincy, now 85 years 1 age, and still a young man, has published 1 he address which he delivered in Quincy, last i Tune. We copy from the Boston Atlas the word of fire: The question to be decided at the ensuing 1 Presidential election, is, who shall henceforth 1 ule the slave States or the free 1 States All the aspects of our political indicate an approaching hurricane. Whether it shall sweep this Union from its oundations, or whether it shall be prosperously weathered, depends, under Heaven, on the man whom the people shall choose to pilot them hrough the coming storm.

In my judgment, hat man is John Charles Fremont. I have not, ind never had, any connection with the party hat selected him. Personally, I know him not, I have read the history of his life, and I him to be a man as much marked ont jy Providence for the present exigency of our lation, as Washington was for that of our Amercan Revolution. comes from whence great nengenerally do come, from the mass of Nursed in difficulties; practiced in surnounting them; wise in council; full of reiourcea; self possessed in danger; fearless and oremost in every qseful enterprise; unexcepionable in morals; with an intellect elevated by tature, and cultivated in laborious fields of trust he is destiued to save this Union from lissolution; to restore the Constitution to its iriginal purity; and to relieve that instrument, vhich Washington designed for the preservaion and enlargement of Freedom, from being my longer perverted to the multiplication of lave States and the extension of Slavery." OfcRRiT Smith anu Smith topped in this city yesterday, on his way to the ate Kansas meeting at Buffalo. While here, he following colloquy occurred between him and mother gentleman: Are you acquainted with Mr.

Fremont, Mr. Jmith Very dined with me several times it Washington, and he is a great favorite in my What kind of a man is he 1 He is the most modest man I ever knew? i le rarely speaks, unless spoken to; a man of alents, generous impulses, and an accomplished cholar." Is he he decision of character? he reliable, in case he is elected President?" 4 Perfectly: if Mr. Fremont is President, he 8 rill carry cut his convictions promptly, and with a infaltering firmness." Is he a slayebolder Mo, never. Until lately, be has been very 1 and in no condition to be a slaveholder; tesides, he is Anti-Slavery." Well, what do you think of Jessie She is beautiful, highly educated, accomdished. Her mother is the daughter of Govern or McDowell, of Virginia, (an Abolitionist.) Mrs.

Fremont told me her mother taught her to bate Slavery, and she did hate it. Site said she would never own a slave, nor permit one to do her work. She did her own work, rather. It is a shrewd choice, the selection of Fremont It is of great importance that he be elected. The question is not now a constitutional question, but a question of war question and if the first is to be in Kansas, we should cast aside party, and fight the Syracuse Journal.

The Lite and Adventures or Jamks P. Bsckwourth, Mountaineer, Scout, and Pioneer and Chief of the Crow With Illustrations. Written from own dictation. By T. D.

Bonner. New York Harper A For sale by Franek Taylor, Washington, D. C. We strongly suspect that no small deduction must be xnade from the multifarious record of events and encounters here narrated. That there is a basis, in the half savage life of the hunter of buffaloes and scout in Indian warfare, for a "long as the sailor might say, of this description, no one would deny.

But parts of the tale smack of the fish story." Mr. Beckwourth, or his narrator, has it all his own way, and we can fancy a lurking smile at the thought how glibly he puts together such a discordant mass of material brought out from the storehouse of memory, where there is no one at hand positively to contradict him. But the account is very deficient in dates. Comparing parts of the Indian adventures among the Crows, his chieftainship, with Catlin's well-known book, published years since, they do not seem to be very consistent. No such characters or portraits are there to be found, not an allusion to the famous chief, Medicine Calf, or his brother chiefs, and the many wives, the heroines and beauties, some of whom the painter would have been almost sure to sketch, while fixing on his canvass so many other and inferior ones.

Viewed, as we think the book must be, as half fiction, exhibiting a succession of wild scenes and adventures, and depicting incidents of savage life with the perils of the forest path, it has much to interest the reader. The details, however, are lacking in the particular points which might stamp it with truthfulness. The allusions to Indian life are such as could be picked up without the long actual residence claimed; and those which, yet more peculiar, would naturally be its results, we look for in vain. Beckwourth, the hunter and mountaineer, is undoubtedly one of that class who are to be met with all through the far West and in California, abandoning civilised life, to herd among Indians, or others like himself, and, regardless of the customs or laws of God or man, plunge unhesitatingly into the immoralities of the savage state. His apologies for his polygamy, and other vices and crimes, are flimsy enough and however the reader, hurried on by tale of forest dangers and bloody warfare, may stop not to mark them, yet the rules of stricter judgment compel us to notice and condem them.

We suspect that many of the Missouri outlaws, whose barbarities in Kansas are so well known, might find their counterpart here, though of course all is not told that might have been. Aside from the incongruities of the story, and the unbounded self-glorification which is the staple of the book, it is written well enough for the purpose, and numerous readers will swallow down its marvels. From Mr. Taylor, also, we have received Harper's Magazine for August, and another of the Abbott Story Books, called the Three Goi.n Dollars, profusely illustrated as former ones, and of a similar cast in readable matter. Likewise, The Martins of Cro' Martin, a tale of Irish life, by Charles Lever, whose reputation in this style of writing is well known.

He has written better, we think. -m The or, Evil and God. By John Young, L.L.D., of Edinburgh. Philadelphia: J. B.

I.ippincott A Co. For sale by Franck Taylor, Wathingion, D. Mystery, indeed Our author enters upon the solution with right good will, and grapples it manfully. But, has he fathomed it No, nor can he or any other mortal ever do so. Remove one difficulty, and yet others face youOne grand trouble in the discussion is the liability of the mind to practice a fallacy upon itself.

Our author, in this volume, has not escaped this stumbling-block. He writes in general in clear language. There is no particular difficulty in understanding him, thongh parts of ilia work are more obscure than others. He makes many statements, and does so with perhaps an air of dogmatism that shows, we should think, the teacher accustomed to lay down doctrines to pupils. He says many good things, and his aim is a most laudable one.

He is a reverent believer in Revelation, the great truths of the Bible, and of the Cross of Christ Man, he claims, is a free moral agent, and rests the itatemcnt on universal consciousness, that however men may be constrained in doing, yet is willing there can be no oompulsion and that, when one thing is chosen, the will as a faculty was adequate to the contrary choice. All aslertions or fancied proof to the contrary cannot let aside the tad. But when our author comes -o the real gist of the how, the intying of the Gordian Knot, he is as much at "ault as every other. Evil, moral evil, is the result of the will of a free moral agent. Hut should I free moral agent, perfectly holy, and, as we aelieve, one of highest of created spirits, like the arinoe of the now fallen angels, make that choice, and step out from the line of duty, lappiness, and glory, iuto rebellion and mis- iry, the mystery is as great as ever.

In the aold, earnest discussion of truths to which con" icience yields its assent, Mr. Young argues well. There is nothing but what has been said aver and over again thoqsands of times, though aossihly wearing here a new dress of language. Hut when he puts forth his hand to cope with inch metaphysicians as Jonathan Edwards and Sir William Hamilton, he fails. He blinks the question, or rather, often practices a fallacy on i limself by changing the point at issue, and then lealing with it as if it were the same.

It is a however, of deep interest (o those who are "ond of such discissions. We question if it be iot of a nature, from its subject and mode of irgument, to find but few readers among the nany for whom there is so much more ooming rora the press, demanding less thought, and pore attractive in style and matter. It is well minted, and, so far as style and paper are con' easily read. Not many will choose it as i summer book, this hot weather, though to inch as do, we can promise they will find he kernel worth the breaking of the nut. Pita Buiro Gibl op WrmcniM; a Life Picture of the of Luther and the Reformation.

From the Ger- mart, by John Q. Morria, Parlor of the Firat Lutheran Church, Baltimore Philadelphia: Lindaay A Blakiaton For aale by Taylor Maury, Washington, c' Th'vs is a Of much interwV The Ger- man author's name is not given, but it is ex pressively translated. It relates to a period of Protestant history that can never be effaced from the records of time. It brings us into the interior heart of the great Reformer of Germany, and depicts, with life-like passing scenes and characters at Wittenberg. Wrought iu with incidents that are often of touching pathos, are many of Luther's conversations, and portions of his writings, thus illustrating his views on a variety of the most important truths of the Scripture.

The great doctrine of justi- i fication by faith, in opposition to salvation by works of man's own and his Belf-righteousness, stands forth prominent. The interest of the story centers round the blind girl, whose relations to a father and sister, by whom she has been long ill-treated and discarded, but to whom she became reconciled, and each of whom, like herself, are led to true peace by the grace of God and faith in a crucified Redeemer. A young Italian artist, whose father and mother in former days have been connected in the incidents of the life of the blind girl's father, also bears a prominent part in the tale, and he is the instrument by whom the development is reached. The sister dies, the blind girl is united to the young man, the object of her love, and the father restored to health, and in his right mind blesses them. The sceue in part is laid during the prevalence of the plague at Wittenberg, and in the course of the story we aie introduced to Luther in his home and with his family, and on what seems his dying bed, as well to him as to the faithful pastor and teacher by the side of the sick, and probing with a fearful searchingness the conscience of the guilty, till the time is come to speak the words of peace, and minister true consolation.

In an artistic point of view, the story is well put together, and we cau commend it to our readers as a book which, amid its lights and shades, convejs many a lesson to the pre pared heart. Dr. Morris has done well to give it an English dress. Parts of Luther's views of course will not command the assent of even Protestants; but, in depicting him as he was, it was necessary to give a certain degree of prominence to in this aspect we are not sorry to meet them here, where they illustrate his character and history. Bft.le Stott; of, I.iberty Overthrown.

A Tills for the Columbus: I) gr S. Ulanclianl. 1KXJ. For reasons that justify him in so doing, the author of this volume withholds his name from the effective tale it contains. We regret that he is obliged to take such a course, since that name is not unknown to many of our readers us one which would have borne with it an earnest recommendation of his sincerity and unOiach- ing zeal, and have been a guaranty for the truth of the facta on which this story of wrong is based.

The intrinsic merit of the work, however, will cause it to urge its way from heart to heart. It is the tale of a young Virginia girl, kidnapped in childhood, carried off, and reduced to slavery, by an uncle, the executor of her father's will, and who, not content with depriving her of an heiress's portion, places her under the yoke of bondage. After a variety of incidents, she reaches a free State, makes an attempt lor her liberty, is held under the Fugitive Slave Law, and sent to prison. While there, waiting the decision of the United States Commissioner, the prison takes fire, and, with almost superhuman exertions, she is rescued, bat so injured that her death is the iiual result. This is not, however, before the knavery of the guardian is exposed; she is made free, and he is compelled to disgorge his ill-gotten wealth.

The unfolding of the varied events, as bearing on the main point, is managed with no little skill. Some of the situations allow of descriptive effect, and are used successfully. The argument against the Fugitive Slave Law put into the mouth of Belle Scott's advocate before the Commissioner, and which is uo doubt meant for a statement of the author's own views, is ingenious, and commends itself to the feeling heart of the philanthropist and Christian. We should fear that the sense of judicial responsibility to Cod is not yet high enough, even in the free States, to plant itself on the higher law," which it claims to be wrought even into the Constitution of the United States. Whether such a train of thought has ever actually been addressed to a judge in a plea for freedom, we do not know but we should not wish to stand in his place, if, setting it all aside, he dooms an immortal being to Slavery, and goes, in his own turn, to appear before the bar of his God.

The noble traits of character with which Mr. Reed, Mr. and Mrs. Stillman, and Mrs. Johnston, are depicted, render them favorites with the reader.

But the sympathy gathers chiefly round Belle Scott, and we feel disappointed that Bhe lives not to enjoy her freedom, and to reward, as the reader all along believes she will, her champion with her hand. Thi Mvmc ixd othu I'onu. By Philip James Bmley, Author of Boston: Tick nor A Bai.i.ad*. By Willinm Makepeace Thackeray. Boston Ticknor A Both of for sale by Taylor A Washington, D.

C. Two volumes of poetry, both by distinguished authors, but of very different complexion and character. The first is dreamy, recondite, full of new words and compound expressions, And it is difficult at times to detect in his lan- 1 guage the author's meaning the other, plain as a pipe-stem, full of humor, mostly a sort of rattled-off lines, careless as to matters of taste, And yet not always deficient in some of the ele- meats of true poetry. The author of Fesius has never, in our opinion, equalled that Srst effort of his muse. His Mystic and Spirit- ial Legend, in the present volume, fall far be- 1 ueath it.

We do not deny that there is rich poetical imagery, and often, also, harmonious measure: but. erand as nerhans some mav be 1 lisposed to call the conception, we do not fancy t. His Mystic, born first in Egypt, then on the Ganges, in Greece, in these transmigrations opens the way to describe the ation of snch a being to the phase in which he ippears. But the veil rests over all, and, at 1 be end of all, we are lost in indistinct rernera- Frances of a shade flitting about from one part the world to another, with no definite of what the author's ideas are. There much more use than in Festus of new-coin- some instances, too, where the Saxon would have been better.

Of these the shortest, a Fairy tale, is in our view the best, and parts of it are beautiful. But i he spell of Festus, which seemed to take hold and captivate the reader, and make him feel intranced, as Montgomery said, "as though had eaten of the root that makes him in- tane," is dissolved. There is nothing of it, sure- 1 in this volume. Thackeray's Ballads are very much such hings as we should expect from him. Often genial, humorous, with dashes now and then 2 RATES OF ADVERTISING.

Tbn cents a line for the Jtrsf inaestion, fio4 jents a line for each subsequent one. Yen irords constitute a Une. Payment in advance invariably required. Money may be forwarded, by mail, at ny risk. Notes on Eastern banks preferred.

amounts may be remitted in drafts or of deposit. Subscribers wishing their papers chargsd, will give the name of the post ofhee changt from, as well as the office they wish it hereafter sent to. tSf Ail communications to the Era. whether on business of the papor or for publication should be addressed to Q. BAILEY, Washington, J).

C. of pathos, vivid by description without any aim to be so, because perfectly natural, it is pleasant to read them. They cannot, however, be placed very high in the order of poetical merit, nor does the author probably so regard them. They are thrown off with no thought that an? one will istake their sketches, tlie moat colloquial and even coarse phrases set together with the more refined and elegant, they proaent a curious mixture of almost all sorts of subjects, originals and translations, satires and ditties, thrown together by no laws of association, but in admirable confusion. The popularity of the author may give them a wider circulation, however, than any intrinsic merit they can claim.

L.ECTVBM WtAU TO THK StMUU IS HABVABD COLLKoE. By Kdwurd T. Chanmng, lute Hoylston Profrnor ol Rhetoric and Oratory. Boilon: Ticknor For rale by Taylor it Maury, The results of the studies and reilections of a raau of thought and observation are always a valuable accession to literature. In this light we regard the volume now before us.

The topics are of high interest. True views of oratory, preaching, criticism, and habits of reading and writing, with the necessary preparatiou for communicating one's thoughts to others, especially, should engage the attention of the youth of oar country. There is ever a tendency, and never perhaps has it been more so, to exuberance in style; and many are beguiled from a chastened simplicity of language, bv the idea that high-sounding words only can gain currency at the present day. The fact is, that the assumption has too much of truth. A volume lite tins may help to apply the needed corrective.

Professor Channing's well-known reputation, and the calm, clear method in which he enunciates and sustains his views, entitle them to careful consideration. The i book is not a popular one in the sense in which many are so yet, to those who love to peruse the productions of a mind of elegant polish, expressed in a chaste and refined diction, it will be a welcome addition to the means of intellectual improvement. The biographical sketch, prefixed by Richard H. Dana, is interesting, especially for the account which it gives of the origin and progress of the North American Review, in which Professor Channing bore bis share, and which, under the editorship of Tudor, Charming, Dana, Everett, Sparks, and others, has exercised so important an influence in the formation of literary oplu ions and taste in this country. THE DOG NOBLE, AND THE EMPTY HOLE.

1IY IIEXRY WARD RKKCIIKK. The first summer which we spent in Lenox, we had along a very intelligent dog, named Noble. lie was learned in many things, and by kla 1 uio uvg-ivir: CMUCU me uuuyiug ivimiraiion OI all the children. Bat there were some things which Noble could never learn. Having, on one occasion, seen a red squirrel run into a hole in a stone wall, he could not be persuaded that he was not there forcvermore.

Several red squirrels lived close to the house, and had become familiar, but not tame. They kept up a regular romp with Noble. They would come down from the maple trees with provoking coolness; they would run along the fence almost within reach they would ccck their tails and sail across the road to the barn and yet, there was snch a well-timed calculation under all this apparent that AW. invariably arrived at the critical spot just as the squirrel left it. On one occasion.

Noble was so closo upon his red-backed friend, that, unable to get up the maple tree, he dodged into a hole in the ran through the chinks, emerged at a little distance, and sprung into the tree. The intense enthusiasm of the dog at that hole can hardly be described. He filled it full of barking. He pawed and scratched, as if undermining a bastion. Standing off at a little distance, he woald pierce the hole with a gaze as intense and fixed as if he was trying magnetism on it.

Then, with tail extended, and every hair ihereon 1, he whould rush at the empty hole with a prodigious onslaught. This imaginary squirrel haunted Nolle night ana day. The very squirrel himself would run up before his face into the tree, and, crouched in a crotch, would sit silently watching the whole process of bombarding the empty hole, with great sobriety and relish. But Noble would allow of no doubts. His conviction that that hole had a squirrel in it continued unshaken for six weeks.

When all other occupations failed, this hole remained to him. When there were no more chickens to harry, no pigs to bite, no cattle to chase, no children to romp with, no expeditions to make with the grown folks, and when he had slept all that his dog skin would hold, he would walk out of the yard, yawn, and stretch himself, and then look wistfully at the hole, as if thinking to himself, "Well, as there is nothing else to do, I may as well try that hole again I We had almost forgotten this little trait, until the conduct of the New York in respect to Col. Fremont's religion brought it ludicrously to mind. Col. Fremont is, and always has been, as sound a Protestant as John Knox ever was.

He was bred in the Protestant faith, and lias never changed. He is unacqnainted with the doctrines and ceremonies of the Catholic Church, and has never attended the services of that church, with two or three exceptions, when curiosity, or some extrinsic reason, led him as a witness. We do not state this upon vague belief. We know what we say. We say it upon our own personal honor and proper knowledge.

Col. Fremont never was, and is not now, a Roman Catholic. He has never been wont to at tend that church. Nor has he in any way, di rectly or indirectly, given occasion lor this report. It is a gratuitous falsehood, utter, barren, absolute, and nnrjualiled.

The storv has been got up for political effect. It is still circulates! for that reason, and, like other political lies, it is a sheer, unscrupulous falsehood, from top to bottom, from the core to the skin, and from the skin back to the core again. In all its parts, in pulp, tegnment, rind, cell, and seed, it is a thorough and total untruth, and they who spread it bear false witness. And as to all the stories of Fulmer, as to supposed conversations with Fremont, in which he defended tho mass. md what not, thev are pure fictions.

They never happened. The authors of them are danderers; the men to believe them are dupes; the men who spread them become endorsers of wilful and corrupt libellers. But the Exjircxs, like Noble, has opened on this hole in the wall, and can never be done barking at it. Day after day, it resorts to this E-mpty hole. When everything else fails, this resource remains.

There they are, indefatiga- Erprets and church without a Fremont, and a hole without a squirrel in it! In some respects, however, the dog had the advantage. Sometimes we thought that he really believed that there was a squirrel there. But at other times he apparently had an inkling of the ridiculousness of his conduct, for he would drop his tail, and walk towards us with bis tongue out, and his eyes a little aslant, seeming to sr.v, My dear sir, you don't understand a dog's feelings. I should, of course, much pre fer a squirrel; but if I can't have that, an emptv hole is better than nothing. I imagine how 1 would catch him if he ten there.

Besides, people who pass by don't know the facte. They think that I have got something. It is needful to keep up my reputation for sagacity. Besides, to tell the truth, 1 have looked into this hole so long, that I have half persuaded myself that there is a squirrel there, or will be, if I keep on." Well, every dog must have his day, and every 1 dog must have his way. No doubt, if we werq I.