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pension on the street inspector, and complimented each other on their liberality and energy. They then adjourned to Bellevue, to eat green turtle, and drink champagne, where they spent the remainder of the day in elegant enjoyment.

The curious in such matters may find a full account of the toasts drank on that occasion, with several other interesting particulars, in the evening papers of that day.

CHAPTER 111.

RELATES WHAT BEFEL THE HERO OF THIS STORY, WHILE ON HIS JOURNEY IN SEARCH or his

COUSIN NICHOLAS, AND ALSO THE PARTICULARS OF HIS MELANCHOLY END.

Poppy continued to trudge along, after the street inspector had met him; but at one time his forebodings were so gloomy, that he half determined to turn back, and endeavor to get word to his cousin Nicholas, without visiting him in person ; something, however, caught his eye at the moment, and he travelled onward, until he found himself surrounded by a great crowd in Broadway, who pressed him so hard, that he thought it would be better for him to wait until evening before he returned, as then, he reasoned, all the people would be at home, smoking their pipes, and he could walk along unmolested. Many and wonderful were the sights which he encountered ; and at times, all thoughts of himself and his house were swallowed up in contemplating the curious objects around him. He was stunned by strange noises, and his senses were fairly bewildered by the oddlooking people who were continually passing him. Sometimes a bevy of gay creatures would whisk by him, looking so queer, and yet so beautiful, that Poppy could compare them to nothing but the angel forms that he sometimes fancied he saw in his dreams; but these far outstripped in lightness and gayety any thing he had ever conceived of an aerial being. He looked in vain, on every side, hoping to see something that resembled himself. Once, indeed, he was startled at the sight of a familiar form, but as he looked wistfully toward it, he discovered it was only the reflection of his own person in a long mirror, which stood at a shop door. He began to feel that weary heart-heaviness which many of us have experienced, when we have found ourselves alone in a gay crowd, where there was not one familiar face to greet us with a kindly smile. Ah! who would leave home, where he might live, loving and beloved, to mingle, uncared for, in the gayest circles that ever crowded the halls of a palace !

It was late in the day, before Poppy reached the spot where he supposed the little yellow house of his cousin Nicholas still stood; for he did not believe that one who bore his name could be guilty of either pulling down his house, or of selling it; he would as soon have thought of selling his father's bones. But the house of his cousin was gone, and in its place, a tall brick store, with a foundation of solid granite pillars, lifted its head almost into the clouds. He looked in at one of the doors, and saw a great many finely-dressed young men moving about like bees in a hive, behind long ranges of counters and

A young gentleman, with a tuft of yellowish hair under his chin, and a pen behind his ear, asked him if he wished to purchase a lot of cheap goods for cash. But Poppy made no reply. He sat

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down on an empty box, at the door, to rest his old limbs, and was almost disposed to curse himself for his folly in leaving his house. But he derived consolation from the prospect of smoking his pipe in quiet, when he should reach home; and as the sun had set, he began his homeward journey. He found the crowd in Broadway even greater than it was in the morning; and his perplexity was greatly increased, for he could not conceive where all the people came from, nor where they were going. The glare of the gas lights astonished him more than any thing that he had encountered. To see a bright flame issuing from a little slender brass tube, exceeded every thing he had ever beheld, or heard tell of. But his head having become a little used to the noise, he did not meet with so much difficulty in groping along, as he did in the morning, although his old legs almost sank under him, they were so weary.

At last, he reached the long avenue, where, he fondly thought, his house was standing to receive him. His heart leaped within him for joy, as he turned out of Broadway, and heard the tread and shuffling of feet die away behind him. How much pleasanter, he thought, as he hurried on, was the solitary but familiar creaking of his old window-shutters, as they turned on their rusty hinges, than the vile Babel-like jargon he had been listening to all day! But when he came to the little eminence on which he had left his house standing, in all the pride of antiquity, and beheld nothing but a heap of rubbish, his heart seemed to wither within him. He leaned against a post for support, and cast his eyes imploringly to heaven. A sickly ray of hope enlivened him; perhaps he had mistaken the street, and it was some other person's, and not his own misfortune, that he was contemplating. He put his hand in his pocket for his handkerchief, to wipe away the moisture from his eyes, but it was gone: it had been spirited away in the crowd through which he had passed. 'Ah ! he exclaimed, “this all comes of that vile money! I will scatter it to the winds; it shall do no more harm to any body.' He made a motion with his hand to take the odious bundle from his pocket, but the flap of his coat was gone, pocket and all! Again he cast an imploring look to heaven, which seemed to ask if an old man's wrongs should go unavenged. He then groped along over the ruins which lay around him, and having found an old stair-case, he climbed up,

and discovered his old three-cornered chair standing unhurt. His foot struck upon something hard ; he stooped to pick it up; it was part of his China parrot ; and even this frail relic gave him a momentary pleasure.

The moon had just risen, and her bright beams, as they gleamed through the apertures in the wall, appeared to Poppy the spiritualized forms of his ancestors, hovering over him. The wind, as it swept by him, and sighed through the risted crevices in the walls, seemed to mourn for his loss. He cast his eyes above him, and beheld a beam stretching over his head, as if tendering him its consolatory support. He untied his cravat, threw a hurried, anxious glance over the desolate scene, and the next moment, Misfortune had done her last deed.

In the morning, Poppy was found hanging from the only remaining rafter of his once dearly beloved mansion. Not a passer-by that saw the old man, with his white locks streaming upon the wind, but blessed himself that he had no hand in causing his unhappy end.

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H. F.

THE

R E JECTION.

BY MISS E. U.

STOCKTON, A NEW

CONTRIBUTOR.

Thou little know'st the heart,

Thou fain wouldst call thine own; How full of cherished memories,

And many a haunting tone; Sweet echoes of the voice

That won me first to love, And still it hath a sacred charm,

All other sounds above!
Nay, listen to my words -

They have a meaning kind,
And only seek to calm and soothe

The tumult of thy mind.
I know thy noble heart,

Full of all truth and worth, Thy pure and lofty intellect,

That scorns the lures of earth.
Yet will I wake once more

Those visions of the past:
Ah me! how well I might have known

They were too bright to last !
I was a thoughtless girl,

A thing of April mood,
One moment singing in the glen,

Then grieving in the wood.
Beneath the flower-decked sod

My blessed parents slept,
And many a time beside the grave,

Their children sat and wept :
My sister had the smile,

The tender, loving eyes,
That made our angel-mother seem

A being of the skies.
How beautiful she was !

With all a statue's grace Embodied in her perfect form,

And softly-rounded face : She numbered seven years,

When first I saw the light;
Than me by seven years lovelier,

In every virtue bright.
We had no thoughts unshared,

No interest apart,
Till his sweet whispers reached my ears,

His image filled my heart !
Yet when he told our love,

She listened with a smile, Though tears of holy tenderness

Were in her eyes the while.
She decked me for a bride,

And twined amid my hair
Fresh blossoms of the orange-tree,

With her small fingers fair:
And when she saw new joy,

Month after month, arise,
Like one whose mission was fulfilled,

She left us for the skies!
Philadelphia, August, 1839.
VOL. XIV.

33

Then uncontrolled and wild,

Had been my wayward grief,
But for his sweet, consoling words,

That brought my heart relief:
And now I had but him

To love upon the earth, Yet never felt we loneliness,

Beside our household hearth, How constant were his cares !

His thoughts all turned to me, Whether in solitude he roamed,

Or mid gay company : He ever knew the cleft

Where spring's first footsteps fell, And plucked for me the early flowers,

I always loved so well.
When summer winds were soft,

At starry eventide,
Discoursing upon holy things,

He wandered by my side: And when the winter storms

Around our home would rage, With what a sweetly serious air

He read the sacred page! At last, with speechless wo,

I saw his strength decline, Yet brighter grew his hopes the while,

As stars in darkness shine:
But ah! enough to say,

I was at length alone;
I, who was not prepared for heaven,

Where they, the blessed, had gone!
Then deem her not unkind,

Whose love is in his grave; I knew thou wouldst not that this hand,

Without a heart, I gave: There is no scene nor place,

That tells me not of him; There is no hour, from rosy morn,

To the gray twilight dim. Winter, and budding spring,

Summer, and autumn fair,
His image is before me still,

As pictured in the air :
Thou couldst not even speak

A word of love to me,
That would not fill my eyes with tears,

My soul with agony ! Then seek another bride,

Untouched by sorrow's dart, Who will repay the tenderness

Of such a noble heart: And give thy prayers to her,

Who longs to close her eyes, And hasten to the blessed throng

Of loved ones in the skies!

REPUBLICAN DISTINCTIONS IN SOCIETY.

'KNOWLEDGE and goodness -- these make degrees in heaven, and they must be the graduating scale of a true democracy. I believe that the Christian law, seconding, of course, the laws of nature, ordains equality - democracy if you please ; and therefore, that its progress and final stability are certain. The ladder is knocked down, my friend and we stand on nature's level.'

Miss SEDGWICK's Home.'

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Our political axiom, that all men are born free and equal,' is held up before the eyes of the world as our national motto. We are proud of seeing it inscribed, in characters of light, upon the banner under which we are marching to the highest places of power and of glory; for we know that the gaze of other nations is fixed upon us, in envy

and admiration. It is our boast, that under our government, the accidents of birth and station give no one man supremacy over another, in his claims to distinction, and that its highest office is as freely opened to the son of a laborer, as to the son of a president. In contrasting our republic with other countries, we become elevated by the thought of our greatness in the rank of nations; we designate our people as a nation of sovereigns; and viewing ourselves as parts of this mighty whole, we glory in the name of American, and wish for no other title. Thus dignified are the feelings, and thus noble are the sentiments, that we cherish as patriots ; but what becomes of our self-respect, and our respect for the rights of others, when we look at ourselves as individuals, and strive to ascertain our own place among our fellows? Apply our boasted motto to society, and we hoot it with scorn. So far from acknowledging that we stand upon the same level with those who surround us,

our whole lives are spent in endeavoring to reach those whom we imagine are above us, and to thrust back those whom we think are beneath us.

What a beggar's garb of rags and patches, is our attempted code of distinctions in society! In Europe, there is at least order and symmetry in the arrangement, however unjust or unreasonable they may appear. There, they are considered of so much importance, as to be laid down with all due solemnity in the pages of the learned commentator of English law; and although by these regulations, the tripping damsel in her teens is allowed to take precedence of a venerable and silver-haired grand-sire, if her title should chance to be higher than his, yet such things are in accordance with their government, and with the customs handed down from the feudal ages. But with us it is different. The spirit and the letter of our institutions promulgate the glorious doctrine of liberty and equality. The law of primogeniture has no place among us; we are a brotherhood of freemen, and the right and title of one is as full and as high as that of another. And it is evident that this doctrine also eventually organizes our society, in despite of the puny and contemptible efforts made to counteract it, and the cowardly denial which refuses to acknowledge it. The mechanic's apprentice throws down his tools, enters in the race for wealth or political preferment, and takes his place beside the son of the judge, or of the wealthy merchant. The most aristocratic and maneuvering mother is brought to bestow her jealously.

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guarded daughter's hand upon the man whose former occupation she blushes to own, but whose present station renders his alliance an object of her pride and highest ambition.

The wealthy vulgar, conscious of their possessing no inherent claims of superiority to the mass around them, entrench themselves behind the gorgeous outworks of display; but they cannot exclude those whom they affect to despise, for rapidly accumulated fortunes soon enable those whom they contemn to occupy the same height, and throw up contiguous breast-works. We see these things taking place around us, and yet we talk of our distinctions in society, our separate circles, which we would fain make others believe are as far asunder as the orbits of Mercury and of Herschel. There are so many cycles upon epicycles, orbs on orbs,' in our confused divisions of rank, that no one can tell whose circle is entitled to the highest station in the empyrean, or which individual can show an undisputed claim to a place in any one of them. Look at the ground on which these distinctions are said to rest, and examine the ostensible title that is necessary to gain a passport into the debateable land of 'good society,' and we find the one as baseless as the fabric of a vision, and the other so difficult to fix upon a rightful claimant, that were our would-be exclusives legally strict in their investigations, they would soon be forced

'to tread alone

Their banquet halls deserted.' Every one familiar with the phraseology of ton, knows what is meant by a mixture ;' but in defiance of its arbitrary code, these

abhorred mixtures' take place, in every company that is gathered together, from the social party to the public ball. A large assemblage cannot be collected, without admitting many whom the most fastidious consider as unlawful intruders; but our lady patronesses' are obliged to make a virtue of necessity, and to overlook the taint of the trades,' provided the industrious occupation has been abandoned for the idleness of acquired wealth. They profess to hold themselves far above the sons and daughters of the man who still plies the tools of honest toil, while they strive to forget that the forlunes bequeathed to them, were wrought by the same implements in the hands of their own ancestors. How inconsistent and how ludicrous, are all attempts at such exclusiveness! And yet they talk of aristocracy, assume a haughty superciliousness toward their supposed inferiors, and utter'swelling words of vanity' respecting their first circles,' and their distinctions in society.' Away with such foolery! Away with these paltry card-built imitations of the time-worn, crumbling edifices of Europe! It is these follies, and this baseless pretension, that render us the laughing stock of tourists, and a mark for the finger of scorn and ridicule, when we are travellers in England, or on the continent. The name of American has indeed been basely dishonored, if we may credit the accounts given of some of our countrymen and countrywomen abroad. These rivals of cockney tourists, these rambling idlers, whose empty heads and full purses have caused them to play such fantastic tricks in the cities of Europe, what shall we say of them? The ostentatious folly and petty vanity of some, have caused us to blush to own them as Americans; but of those who are

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