sented by Mr. Jefferson to the company. During this ceremony the awkward countryman slipped up several times on the wellwaxed floor, and then, seating himself, thoroughly ill at ease, was perfectly silent. After chatting with some of his guests, Mr. Jefferson took a seat beside his relative and made an unusual effort to be agreeable, talking on all manner of topics, but without even receiving answers to his queries or making the slightest impression upon the visitor, who remained as dumb as an oyster. In despair of drawing him out, Mr. Jefferson happened to ask him if he liked "blackjack" fishing. The countryman's eyes snapped, and his mouth poured forth a garrulous budget in regard to his favourite sport, to all which Mr. Jefferson, amused, as were the others present, listened attentively. When at last the countryman made an end, Mr. Jefferson opened up eloquently on the same subject, displaying an intimate knowledge of "black-jack," so far surpassing that of his relative that the latter was held spell-bound. When the great statesman stopped talking, the countryman rushed for his hat and bolted from the mansion, nor could he be persuaded to return.

There was greater fear of, but less faith in, Jefferson than his relative exhibited, among the Northern Federalists, who firmly believed that he was little better than Antichrist. A story illustrative of the state of feeling with regard to the French Party is related of a pious old Federalist lady, who lived in a town in Connecticut. It was believed in her neighbourhood that if the Federalists were overthrown, and the Jefferson Democrats came into power, the Christian religion would be put down and Atheism proclaimed, and among the first persecutions would be the destruction of all the Bibles. The

lady referred to was terribly wrought up at this prospect, and cast about in her mind how she should preserve the Scriptures in the general destruction. At length it occurred to her to go to Squire S, the only Democrat of her acquaintance, and throw herself upon his mercy. She accordingly took her family Bible to him, and telling him that she had heard of the intention of the Jeffersonians, asked him to keep it for her. The Squire attempted to persuade her that her fears were groundless, but she was too panic-stricken to be convinced. At last he said:

"My good woman if all the Bibles are to be destroyed, what is the use of your bringing yours to me. That will not save it when it is found."

WHEN John Quincy Adams and Henry Clay were at Ghent in 1814, in association with several other statesmen appointed to negotiate a treaty of peace with Great Britain, they were on very intimate terms of friendship. Mr. Clay was always a very gallant man, and in many respects the very opposite of Mr. Adams, who, though studiously polite to everybody, avoided even the appearance of familiarity. The young girl who had charge of the rooms of the Peace Commissioners was very pretty and modest, and was treated with great respect by all of them. But Mr. Clay would now and then indulge

EITHER the language of courtship has deplorably fallen off since the days of our grandfathers, or our novelists have lost the art of reporting it. There is an instructive scene in The Wild Irish Girl, a romance by Miss Owenson (afterward Lady Morgan), which our grandmothers, before their marriage, read with the emotions proper in society at the beginning of this century a scene that can profitably be studied:

"It is a sweet hour," said Glorvina, softly sighing.

"It is a boudoirising hour," said I.

"It is a golden one for a poetic heart," she added.

"Or an enamoured one," I returned. "It is the hour in which the soul best knows herself; when every low-thoughted care is excluded, and the pensive pleasures take possession of the dissolving heart.

Ces douces lumières,
Ces sombres clartés,

Sont les jours de la volupté.'

And what was the voluptas of Epicurus but those refined and eloquent enjoyments which must derive their spirit from virtue and from health, from a vivid fancy, susceptible feelings, and a cultivated mind, and which are never so fully tasted as in this sweet season of the day? Then the influence of the sentiment is buoyant over passion; the soul, alive to the sublimest impression, expands in the region of pure and elevated meditation; the passions, slumbering in the soft repose of nature, leave the heart free to the reception of the purest, warmest, tenderest sentiments, when all is delicious melancholy or pensive softness, when every vulgar wish is hushed, and a rapture, an

DIOGENES the Athenian having by his cynical remarks induced the citizens to believe that their rulers were no better than they should be, and that he had a corner on virtue and intelligence, met one day at noon the Committee of One Hundred, and upon inquiring of them their mission, was informed that they were looking for an honest man to run for Chief Magistrate of the city on a non-partisan ticket.

"In that case, fellow-citizens," replied Diogenes, "you need go no further. I am the man you are looking for. Your candidate I will be." And after accepting the nomination he added, in confidence, to the friends in whose hands he had placed himself, that he did not believe in a man hiding his lantern under a tub.

ALEXANDER AND BUCEPHALUS.

PHILIP of Macedon was the possessor of a. horse, Bucephalus by name, which all his grooms had in vain endeavoured to train so that it would show a three-minute record.

His youthful son Alexander, however, undertook the job, and was not long in subduing the animal.

The news of this exploit having been brought to the king, he was not slow in sending for his son, to whom he addressed the following words: "You must seek out for yourself some other kingdom than mine, my son, because people who go into the horse business are rarely good for anything else."

It was upon hearing these words that Alexander wept to think that he would have to conquer other kingdoms instead of coming into one at the old man's death.

CESAR AND THE PILOT.

C. JULIUS CESAR having occasion to make a sea-voyage, a storm sprang up, and the vessel was placed in imminent peril.

At this moment Cæsar's freedman, Cn.

Pompilius Mucilaginus, whispered to his master, "Would it not be well for you, O Cæsar, to encourage the pilot by reminding him that he carries Cæsar and his fortunes?"

"By no means," replied the conqueror. "It would only rattle him; and besides, if he saved us he would expect a liberal tip."

MOHAMMED AND THE SPIDER.

THE Prophet Mohammed, while fleeing from his enemies, was compelled to take refuge in a cave, across the mouth of which a spider spun her web, so that the pursuers on coming up were convinced that no one had entered there.

Upon rejoining his family in safety the Prophet did not fail to give an account of his wonderful deliverance, and ever afterward his young wife Ayesha, it was observed, would rate severely or even chastise the slaves when she noticed that they had neglected to sweep down the cobwebs from the roof of the harem, observing that people

could not be too careful about such things. Mohammed, in recognition of her affection and thoughtfulness, thereupon adopted Ayesha's black petticoat as the standard of the Arabian nation, quelling the murmurs of the haughty chiefs, who were reluctant to follow so feminine an emblem to the field, by the remark that if he, the Prophet of Allah, was so much afraid of that petticoat, much more would the infidels be terrified.

A SICK man was telling his symptomswhich appeared to himself, of course, dreadful to a medical friend, who, at each new item of the disorder, exclaimed, "Charming! delightful! Pray go on!" and, when he had finished, the doctor said, with the utmost pleasure, “Do you know, my dear sir, you have got a complaint which has been for some time supposed to be extinct?"

A DEALER in horse-flesh, of Jewish persuasion, sold to a gentleman of little experience in such matters a steed as perfectly "without faults." Next day the buyer came back in great fury, because his groom found out that the alleged "faultless" horse was blind in the right eye. "Why," replied the sly jobber, "this is not the horse's fault, it is only his misfortune!"

A VALUABLE temperance story is told about a couple of church-members-one of them a Deacon by the name of Bennet, and the other a Brother Griffin. Brother Griffin was addicted to the use of intoxicating drinks, and was the cause of some trouble to the church. On one occasion Deacon Bennet was sent by the church to talk with Brother Griffin in regard to the error of his

ways, and, if possible, persuade him to reform. In going from his house to that of Brother Griffin's he was compelled to cross a stream of water, over which there was a row-boat ferry. In crossing, the Deacon told the ferryman where he was going, and his business. When he arrived at Brother G.'s he found him in the hay-field at work with his men. He was very cordially received by Brother G., who suspected his errand and invited him to a seat in the shade of a large tree.

"It is a very warm day, Deacon, very warm; won't you take a little something?" said G.

"Well, I don't care if I do take just a swallow," said the Deacon.

To make the story as brief as possible, the bottle was brought into requisition pretty often, the Deacon forgot his errand, and started for home toward the close of the afternoon, considerably intoxicated. When he arrived at the bank of the river, which was very steep, he had to call the ferryman, who was upon the opposite side,

and wait for him to come over. By waiting in the hot sun his intoxication was increased, and when he finally started for the boat, instead of going toward it, he rushed down the bank into the river. The ferryman fished him out, and after the Deacon was on dry land, said:

"Why, Deacon, what is the matter?" for Brother Griffin I can't stand!" "Oh," whimpered the Deacon, “I feel so

After this if any one in that neighbourhood got intoxicated it was said: "He feels for Brother Griffin!"

NOT many years ago, in answer to the call of a country parish in Virginia, there appeared a young clergyman whose sole earthly possessions consisted of two black trunks and a horse, whose ill-kept condition gained for him the sobriquet of Buzzard. The parson, however, being a man of fine address and brilliant parts, soon made for himself friends, and, it may be, excited the envy of some, by securing the affections of a lovely young widow of great wealth. The time for the wedding came. The ceremony had proceeded to that point where the groom, in presence of the company, solemnly declares to the bride, "With all my worldly goods I thee endow," when his gravity, and that of the guests, was completely upset by a rude man in the background exclaiming, "There goes Buzzard and the two black trunks!"

ON Some American railroads it is customary to have a lock on the stove to prevent passengers from meddling with the fire. A wag being asked why they locked the stove, coolly replied that "it was to prevent the fire from going out!”

EVAN EVANS, a bright little Welshman, in one of the Welsh settlements of Pennsylvania, is very fond of playing the harp, but complains that he cannot improve for the want of proper instruction. A waggish Yankee consequently advised him to subscribe for Harper's Magazine, which he did at once, supposing it to be a publication intended specially for harpers. Meeting Evan some time ago we asked him how he liked his Magazine, and he replied: "Tat Yankee is a great rogue; but ta Harper is a vera goot book."

NOT a hundred miles from Philadelphia lived, a few years ago, a couple of old farmers; they were brothers and bachelors, and both had filled out their threescore and ten years on their ancestral farm; they, moreover, belonged to the Society of Friends. The old gentlemen one autumn became suspicious that some one was helping himself from their corn-crib without consent of the owners-and, oddly enough, each, without consulting the other, resolved to watch in person on a certain night, without informing any one of it, and try to catch the thief. Accordingly, about nine in the evening, Joshua, the elder, wended his way to the corn-crib, which he entered, and, closing the door, seated himself on an inverted basket to await developments. Shortly after Joshua left the room, John, who had been dozing behind the stove, awoke and bethought him of the rifled corncrib and his design to watch it, and proceeded leisurely to the spot. He had been gone but a few moments when the family within-doors were startled by the most unearthly yells and shouts, and the cries of, "I have got him! yes, I have got him! Help! quick, before he gets away!"

The nephew, albeit somewhat alarmed, rushed valiantly to the rescue, to find his two ancient uncles prostrate on the floor of the corn-crib, each holding desperately to the other, and shouting lustily for help to secure the thief.

The old gentlemen's chagrin can be better imagined than described when they learned the truth; and the subject of stolen corn had to be thereafter carefully avoided in their presence.

Nor long since a certain New Hampshire farmer went in search of a truant cow. His course was through an old worn-out patch of clay land, of about six acres in extent, in the centre of which was a well twenty-five or thirty feet deep, that at some time, probably, had served the inmates of a dilapidated house near by with water. In passing by this spot an ill wind drifted his hat from his head, and maliciously wafted it to the edge of the well, and in it tumbled.

He immediately set about recovering the lost hat. Examining the well, and finding

it was dry at the bottom, he uncoiled the rope which he had brought for capturing the cow, and after several attempts to catch the hat with a noose he concluded to save time by getting down into the well himself. To accomplish this he made fast one end of the rope to a stump hard by, and was soon on his way down the well. It was a fact, of which he was no less oblivious than the reader hereof, that one Ned Willis was in the dilapidated old building aforesaid, and that an old blind horse, with a bell on his neck, had been turned loose, and was lazily grazing within a short distance of the well. Some wicked spirit put it into Ned's cranium to have a little fun; so he quietly slipped up to the old horse, and unbuckling the strap, approached with a slow and steady "ting-a ling" to the edge of the well.

'Dang the old blind horse!" said the man at the bottom of the well; "he's coming this way sure, and ain't got any more sense than to fall in here. Whoa, Bill!"

But the continued approach of a ting-a ling" said just as plainly as words that Bill wouldn't whoa. And the farmer was at the bottom, resting before trying to shin up the rope.

"Great Jerusalem!" said he; "the old hoss will be a-top of me before I can say Jack Robinson. Whoa! dang it! Whoa!"

Just then Ned drew up to the edge of the well, and with his foot kicked a little dirt into it.

"O Lord!" exclaimed the victim, falling on his knees at the bottom. "I'm gone now-whoa! Now I lay me down to sleepw-h-o-a!-I pray the Lord my soul towhoa, now! O Lord, have mercy upon me!"

Ned could hold in no longer, and fearing the poor man might suffer from his fright, he revealed himself, and hurriedly made off.

DURING a revival at Barnstable, Massachusetts, the Baptist minister deemed it his duty to diffuse himself about the country and induce as many of the unregenerate as possible to come to meeting. Among others, he called on an illiterate old farmer, and asked if he knew of any lost sheep of the house of Israel about there.

Well, no," was the reply, "I r'ally don't know of any. Fact, the only sheep I do know of 'bout here are owned by Squire Francis Bacon."

A JURY in Alabama had been empanneled in the case of a man charged with killing his wife. The evidence was positive and conclusive, leaving not a doubt of his speedy conviction. To the amazement of all, the jury, after a short absence, returned a verdict, "Guilty of horse-stealing!" The judge, astonished, asked an explanation, stating that the indictment was not for