Here is sad news, Trim, cried Susannah, wiping her eyes as Trim stepped into the kitchen, -master Bobby is dead and buried the funeral was an interpolation of Susannah's—we shall have all to go into mourning, said Susannah.

I hope not, said Trim. You hope not! cried Susannah earnestly. The mourning ran not in Trim's head, whatever it did in Susannah's. I hope-said Trim, explaining himself, I hope in God the news is not true. I heard the letter read with my own ears, answered Obadiah; and we shall have a terrible piece of work of it in stubbing the Ox-moor. -Oh! he's dead, said Susannah. As sure, said the scullion, as I'm alive.

I lament for him from my heart and my soul, said Trim, fetching a sigh. -Poor creature-poor boy!-poor gentleman! - He was alive last Whitsuntide! said the coachman. Whitsuntide! alas! cried Trim, extending his right arm, and falling instantly into the same attitude in which he read the sermon,—what is Whitsuntide, Jonathan (for that was the coachman's name), or Shrovetide, or any tide or time past, to this? Are we not here now, continued the corporal (striking the end of his stick perpendicularly upon the floor, so as to give an idea of health and stability) — and are we notand are we not― (dropping his hat upon the ground) gone! in a moment?'Twas infinitely striking! Susannah burst into a flood of tears. We are not stocks and stones. - Jonathan, Obadiah, the cook-maid, all melted. The foolish fat scullion herself, who was scouring a fish-kettle upon her knees, was roused with it. -The whole kitchen crowded about the corporal.

Now, as I perceive plainly, that the preservation of our constitution in church and state, and possibly the preservation of the whole world—or what is the same thing, the distribution and balance of its property and power, may in time to come depend greatly upon the right understanding of this stroke of the corporal's eloquence-I do demand your attention - your worships and reverences, for any ten pages together, take them where you will in any other part of the work, shall sleep for it at your ease.

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I said, "we were not stocks and stones 'tis very well. I should have added, nor are we angels, I wish we were, — but men clothed with bodies, and governed by our imaginations; and what a junketing piece of work of it there is, betwixt these and our seven senses, especially some of them, for my own

part, I own it, I am ashamed to confess. Let it suffice to affirm, that of all the senses, the eye (for I absolutely deny the touch, though most of you Barbati, I know, are for it) has the quickest commerce with the soul, gives a smarter stroke, and leaves something more inexpressible upon the fancy, than words can either conveyor sometimes get rid of.

-I've gone a little about—no matter, 'tis for health-let us only carry it back in our mind to the mortality of Trim's hat. "Are we not here now, and gone in a moment?" There was nothing in the sentence-'twas one of your selfevident truths we have the advantage of hearing every day; and if Trim had not trusted more to his hat than his head had made nothing at all of it.

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“Are we not here now;" continued the corporal, "and are we not"-(dropping his hat plumb upon the groundand pausing, before he pronounced the word)—"gone! in a moment?" The descent of the hat was as if a heavy lump of clay had been kneaded into the crown of it. Nothing could have expressed the sentiment of mortality, of which it was the type and forerunner, like it, his hand seemed to vanish from under it, it fell dead, the corporal's eye fixed upon it, as upon a corpse, and Susannah burst into a flood of tears.

Now- Ten thousand, and ten thousand times ten thousand (for matter and motion are infinite), are the ways by which a hat may be dropped upon the ground, without any effect. Had he flung it, or thrown it, or cast it, or skimmed it, or squirted it, or let it slip or fall in any possible direction under heaven, or in the best direction that could be given to it, — had he dropped it like a goose like a puppy-like an ass or in doing it, or even after he had done, had he looked like a fool- like a ninny-like a nincompoop-it had failed, and the effect upon the heart had been lost.

Ye who govern this mighty world and its mighty concerns with the engines of eloquence, who heat it, and cool it, and melt it, and mollify it, and then harden it again to your purpose.

Ye who wind and turn the passions with this great windlass, and having done it, lead the owners of them, whither ye think meet

Ye, lastly, who drive - and why not, ye also who are driven, like turkeys to market with a stick and a red cloutmeditate meditate, I beseech you, upon Trim's hat.

SOLIMAN II.: A STORY.

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BY MARMONTEL.

[JEAN FRANÇOIS MARMONTEL, French man of letters, of the Voltaire group, was born in Limousin in 1723; brought up for the church by the Jesuits; became in 1741 a tutor in philosophy at Toulouse; went to Paris, won literary prizes, and wrote several tragedies with no great success; then wrote articles for the "Encyclopédie," collected as Poétique Française" (1763), and "Elements de lit térature" (1787), the latter being highly influential and one of his chief claims to distinction. He published also two series of "Contes Moraux," (not quite accurately translated “Moral Tales"), in 1761 and 1792; “Belisaire,” a philosophical novel (1767), and “The Incas," a historical novel (1777); translated Lucan's "Pharsalia," and wrote librettos for comic operas. He died in 1799. Posthumously were published "Memoirs of a Father and his Children" and "Lessons of a Father and his Children in the French Language."]

IT IS pleasant to see grave historians racking their brains, in order to find out great causes for great events. Sylla's valetde-chambre would perhaps have laughed heartily to hear politicians reasoning on the abdication of his master; but it is not of Sylla that I am now going to speak.

Soliman II. married his slave, in contempt of the laws of the sultans. One at once imagines this slave an accomplished beauty, with a lofty soul, an uncommon genius, and a profound skill in politics. No such thing; the fact was as follows:

Soliman in the midst of his glory suffered from ennui; the various but facile pleasures of the seraglio had become insipid to him. "I am weary," said he one day, "of receiving here the caresses of mere machines. These slaves move my pity. Their soft docility has nothing piquant, nothing flattering. It is to hearts nourished in the bosom of liberty that it would be delightful to make slavery agreeable.'

The whimsies of a sultan are laws to his ministers. Large sums were instantly promised to such as should bring European slaves to the seraglio. In a short time there arrived three, who, like the three Graces, seemed to have divided among themselves all the charms of beauty.

Features noble and modest, eyes tender and languishing, an ingenuous temper and a sensitive soul, distinguished the touching Elmira. Her entrance into the seraglio, and the idea of servitude, had frozen her with a mortal terror. Soliman found her in a swoon in the arms of his women. He approached ; he recalled her to life; he encouraged her; she raised towards

him a pair of large blue eyes bedewed with tears; he reached forth his hand to her; he supported her himself; she followed him with a tottering step. The slaves retired; and as soon as he was alone with her, "It is not with fear, beautiful Elmira," said he to her, "that I would inspire you. Forget that you have a master, see in me only a lover.”. "The name of lover," said she to him, "is not less unknown to me than that of master, and both the one and the other make me tremble. They have told me and I still shudder at the thought that I am destined to your pleasures. Alas! what pleasure can it be to tyrannize over weakness and innocence? Believe me, I am not capable of the compliances of servitude; and the only pleasure possible for you to taste with me is that of being generous. Restore me to my parents and my country, and by respecting my virtue, my youth, and my misfortunes, merit my gratitude, my esteem, and my regret.'

This discourse from a slave was new to Soliman, his great soul was moved by it. "No," said he, "my dear child, I will owe nothing to violence. You charm me. I would make it my happiness to love and please you; but I prefer the torment of never seeing you more to that of seeing you unhappy. However, before I restore you to liberty, give me leave to try, at least, whether it be not possible for me to dissipate that terror which the name of slave strikes into you. I ask only one month's trial, after which, if my love cannot move you, I will avenge myself no otherwise on your ingratitude than by delivering you up to the inconstancy and perfidy of mankind.”—“Ah! my lord!" cried Elmira, with an emotion mixed with joy, "how unjust are the prejudices of my country, and how little are your virtues known there! Continue such as I now see you, and I shall no longer count this day unfortunate."

Some moments after, she saw slaves enter, carrying baskets filled with stuffs and precious jewels. "Choose," said the sultan to her "these are clothes, not ornaments, that are here presented to you; nothing can adorn you."-"Decide for me," said Elmira to him, running her eyes over the baskets. "Do not consult me," replied the sultan: "I hate everything, without distinction, that can hide your charms from me." Elmira blushed, and the sultan perceived she preferred the colors most favorable to the character of her beauty. He conceived an agreeable hope from that circumstance; for care to adorn one's self is almost a desire to please.

The month of trial passed away in timid gallantries on the part of the sultan, and on Elmira's side, in complaisance and delicate attentions. Her confidence in him increased every day, without her perceiving it. At first, he was not permitted

to see her but after her toilette was completed, and before she began to undress; in a short time he was admitted both to her toilette and dishabille. It was then that the plan of their amusements for that day and the next was formed. Whatever either proposed was exactly what the other was going to propose. Their disputes turned only on the plagiarism of their thoughts. Elmira, in these disputes, perceived not some small carelessnesses, which escaped her modesty. A dressing-gown in disorder, or a garter put on unthinkingly, indulged the sultan in pleasures which he was cautious not to testify. He knew (and it was much for a sultan to know) that it was impolitic to advertise modesty of the dangers to which it exposes itself; that it is never less kind than when alarmed; and that in order to subdue it, one should render it familiar. Nevertheless, the more he discovered of Elmira's charms, the more he felt his fears increase, on account of the approach of the day that might deprive him of them.

The fatal period arrived. Soliman caused chests to be prepared, filled with stuffs, precious stones, and perfumes. He repaired to Elmira, followed by these presents. "To-morrow," said he, "I promised to restore you to liberty, if you still regret the want of it. I now come to acquit myself of my promise, and to bid you adieu for ever." "What!" said Elmira, trembling. "To-morrow? I had forgot it." I had forgot it.""It is to-morrow," went on the sultan, "that, delivered up to my despair, I am to become the most unhappy of men." "Then you are very cruel to yourself to put me in mind of it!"-"Alas! it depends only on you, Elmira, that I should forget it for ever." -"I confess," said she to him, " that your sorrow touches me; that your behavior has interested me in your happiness; and that if, to show my gratitude, it were necessary only to prolong the time of my slavery "No, Madam. I am but too much accustomed to the happiness of possessing you; I perceive that the more I know of you, the more terrible it would be to me to lose you: this sacrifice will cost me my life; but I shall only render it the more grievous by deferring it. May your country prove worthy of it! May those mortals whom you bless deserve you better than I do! I ask but one favor of

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