Two letter "And now, gentlemen, but one word more. have passed between these parties, letters which are admitted to be in the handwriting of the defendant, and which speak volumes indeed. These letters, too, bespeak the character of the man. They are not open, fervent, eloquent epistles, breathing nothing but the language of affectionate attachment; they are covert, sly, underhanded communications, but fortunately, far more conclusive than if couched in the most glowing language and the most poetic imagery-letters that must be viewed with a cautious and suspicious eye-letters that were evidently intended at the time by Pickwick to mislead and delude any third parties into whose hands they might fall. Let me read the first: 'Garraway's, twelve o'clock. Dear Mrs. B.,-Chops and tomato sauce. Yours, PICKWICK!' Gentlemen, what does this mean? Chops and to、 mato sauce. Yours, Pickwick!' Chops! Gracious heavens!— and tomato sauce! Gentlemen, is the happiness of a sensitive and confiding female to be trifled away by such shallow artifices as these? The next has no date whatever, which is in itself suspicious. 'Dear Mrs. B.,—I shall not be at home till to-morrow. Slow coach. And then follows this very remarkable expression : 'Don't trouble yourself about the warming-pan.' The warming-pan! Why, gentlemen, who does trouble himself about a warming-pan i When was the peace of mind of man or woman broken or disturbed by a warming-pan, which is in itself a harmless, a useful, and I will add, gentlemen, a comforting article of domestic furniture? Why is Mrs. Bardell so earnestly entreated not to agitate herself about this warmingpan, unless (as is, no doubt, the case) it is a mere cover for hidden fire—a mere substitute for some endearing word or promise, agreeably to a preconcerted system of correspondence, artfully contrived by Pickwick with a view to his comtemplated desertion, and which I am not in a condition to explain? And what does this allusion to the slow coach mean? For aught I know, it may be a reference to Pickwick himself, who has most unquestionably been a criminally slow coach during the whole of this transaction, but whose speed will now be very unexpectedly accelerated, and whose wheels, gentlemen, as he will find to his cost, will very soon be greased by you." Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz paused in this place to see whether the jury smiled at his joke; but as nobody took it but the greengrocer, whose sensitiveness on the subject was very probably occasioned by his having subjected a chaise-cart to the process in question on that identical morning, the learned sergeant considered it advisable to undergo a slight relapse into the dismals before he concluded. "But enough of this, gentlemen," said Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz; "it is difficult to smile with an aching heart; it is ill jesting when our deepest sympathies are awakened. My client's hopes and prospects are ruined, and it is no figure of speech to say that her occupation is gone indeed. The bill is down-but there is no tenant. Eligible single gentlemen pass and repass--but there is no invitation for them to inquire within or without. All is gloom and silence in the house; even the voice of the child is hushed; his infant sports are disregarded when his mother weeps; his 'alley tors' and his commoneys' are alike neglected; he forgets the long familiar cry of knuckle down' and at tip-cheese, or odd-and-even, his hand is out. But Pickwick, gentlemen, Pickwick, the ruthless destroyer of this domestic oasis in the desert of Goswell Street-Pickwick, who has choked up the well, and thrown ashes on the sward-Pickwick, who comes before you to-day with his heartless tomato sauce and warming pans— Pickwick still rears his head with unblushing effrontery, and gazes without a sigh on the ruin he has made. Damages, gentlemen-heavy damages-is the only punishment with which you can visit him; the only recompense you can award to my And for those damages she now appeals to an enlightened, a high-minded, a right-feeling, a conscientious, a dispassionate, a sympathizing, a contemplative jury of her civilized countrymen ! " THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS IN Look now abroad-another race has filled The breaking waves dashed high BRYANT. On a stern and rock-bound coast, Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came; Not as the flying come, In silence and in fear; They shook the depths of the desert gloom Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free. The ocean eagle soared From his nest by the white wave's foam; And the rocking pines of the forest roaredThis was their welcome home. There were men with hoary hair Why had they come to wither there, There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas? the spoils of war?— They sought a faith's pure shrine! Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod ; They have left unstained what there they found― Freedom to worship God. FELICIA HEMANS. WHAT INTEMPERANCE DOES. The Colonel was lately employed in a case which involved the manufacture of ardent spirits, and in his speech to the jury he used the following language: I am aware there is a prejudice against any man engaged in the manufacture of alcohol. I believe from the time it issues from the coiled and poisonous worm in the distillery until it empties into the hell of death, that it is demoralizing to everybody that touches it, from the source to where it ends. I do not believe that anybody can contemplate the subject without being prejudiced against the crime. All they have to do is to think of the wrecks on either side of the stream of death, of the suicides, of the insanity, of the poverty, of the destruction, of the little children tugging at the breast, of weeping and despairing wives asking for bread, of the man struggling with imaginary serpents produced by this devilish thing; and when you think of the jails, of the almshouses, of the asylums, of the prisons, and of the scaffolds, on either bank, I do not wonder that every thoughtful man is prejudiced against this vile stuff called alcohol. Intemperance cuts down youth in its vigor, manhood in its strength, and age in its weakness. It breaks the father's heart, bereaves the doting mother, extinguishes natural affection, erases conjugal love, blots out filial attachment, blights parental hope, and brings down mourning age in sorrow to the grave. It produces weakness, not strength; sickness, not health; death, not life. It makes wives widows, children orphans, fathers fiends, and all of them paupers and beggars. It feeds rheumatism, nurses gout, welcomes epidemics, invites cholera, imports pestilence, and embraces consumption. It covers the land with idleness, poverty, disease, and crime, It fills your jails, supplies your almshouses, and demands your asylums. It engenders controversies, fosters quarrels, and cherishes riots. It crowds your penitentiaries, and furnishes the victims for your scaffolds. It is the lifeblood of the gambler, the aliment of the counterfeiter, the prop of the highwayman, and the support of the midnight incendiary. It countenances the liar, respects the thief, and esteems the blasphemer. It violates obligation, reverences fraud, and honors infamy. It defames benevolence, hates love, scorns virtue, and slanders innocence. It incites the father to butcher his helpless offspring, helps the husband to massacre It It his wife, and aids the child to grind the parricidal axe. burns up man and consumes woman, detests life, curses God, and despises heaven. It suborns witnesses, nurses perjury, defiles the jury-box, and stains the judicial ermine. bribes voters, disqualifies votes, corrupts elections, pollutes our institutions, and endangers our government. It degrades the citizen, debases the legislator, dishonors the statesman, and disarms the patriot. It brings shame, not honor; terror, not safety; despair, not hope; misery, not happiness. And with the malevolence of a fiend, it calmly surveys its frightful desolations; and, insatiated with havoc, it poisons felicity, kills peace, ruins morals, blights confidence, slays reputation, and wipes out national honor, then curses the world and laughs at its ruin. It does all that and more. It murders the soul. It is the sum of all villainies; the father of crimes; the mother of all abominations; the curse of curses; the devil's best friend, and God's worst enemy. ROBERT G. INGERSOLL. GOING TO THE DENTIST. I like to come across a man with the toothache. There's something so pleasant in advising him to stuff cotton in it, to use camphor, creosote, peppermint, and "relief," that I always feel better after giving it. I have had an aching snag, and I know how it feels. It used to wake me up nights, and make me furious in the morning. I didn't meet man or woman but what they advised me. One said that a hot knitting-needle pushed down on the roots was an excellent thing; and others said it must be dug out by the dentist. If I sat down to dinner that old tooth began to growl. If I went to bed, or got up, or went to a party, or staid at home, "she" growled just the same. It wasn't always a growl; sometimes it was a jump that made my hair stand up, and again a sort of cutting pain that made me make up faces at the baby, slam doors and break windows. I ate cotton, peppermint, camphor, and opium, until I got black in the face, and that old snag kept right on. I put bags of hot ashes to my cheeks, applied mustard, held my head in the oven, took a sweat, and the ache still ached. |