quently, to the delight of his mother, the exultation of his friend, and to the heart-felt satisfaction of---the real cause of the improvement. And who was SHE? For she is the word to denote the enchanting sex that works all moral wonders. "She was the daughter of my tu tor, law professor at the U- not Gottingen, but —, where our two young men had been matriculated. Dr. Sandford was one of the few who had looked with compassion on Sedley's self torture, and with indignation on those who had led him to inflict it. He had, therefore, endeavored to afford him an acceptable retreat to his own fireside, as his friend and pupil. But, unfortunately for the latter, his mind had taken the wrong bias; and, looking on his invitations as the mere pomp of patronage and condescension, he had very rarely accepted one. In the few with which he had forced himself to comply, he had met Ellen Sandford, her widowed father's stay and hope. Well she deserved the titles. But, though she was kind and attentive to her father's melancholy pupil, she elicited no mark of regard from him, except the most scrupulous politeness, or an occasional conversation, in which the strong sense, deep thinking, energetic language, and musical, but melancholy, tones of the visitor produced powerful, and lasting impressions. Poor girl, she labored to drive a heart ache away from another, and procured for herself an intense one. "Pity's akin to love," they say, and Ellen found the relationship so near, that one insensibly became the other. Yet, when Sedley became rich, why was she one of the last to offer her congratulations? And why did Sedley like her the better for it? Those who cannot reply to these questions, have made themselves but slightly acquainted with the human heart. Such was the case-let casuists explain the reason-although he returned to his mother "heart whole, and indifferent as to whether he and Ellen Sandford should ever meet again, save and except that she was," as he told Mrs. Sedley, "a very pretty little girl, and sung very finely, and read very beautifully, and talked very sensibly, and behaved very kindly, and was respected very sincerely, and"-some score or two more of veries; all which, was to show his mother very convincingly, that he had only observed her as any sensible, thinking man would do;-but which really went further, and convinced, both his mother and his friend, that he was nearly in love; and,-contrary to the statute in that case made and provided, therefore nearly becoming a reasonable being. To bring about "a consummation" so "devoutly to be wished," was Hanbury's endeavor, and fortunately, that too was brought about, by the arrival of the doctor and his lovely daughter to spend a recess in the city. They were immediately invited to Mr. Hanbury's hospitable mansion, where of course they were met by Sedley. Each was struck by the improvement which had taken place in the appearance and manner of the other, and ere they separated, the mutual attachment which had hitherto been but incipient, became fixed and unalterable as the magnetic influence. But ever his own tormentor, he revolved within himself the interested motives which actuate the human race, and that should he offer himself and be accepted, it would be more probably on account of his wealth than any personal merit. Where, indeed, could be the latter? He had been an outcast and an alien from society,-knew nothing of the despicable arts to please, VOL. I. 16 which custom seemed to have made necessary,-nay,—and here conscience herself spake,---had he not repelled the mild advances of her respectable father, and even treated the fair Ellen with cold disdain. Then again,--"aye, there's the rub,"---was not that incorrigible puppy Messingham always at her elbow? That essence of perfume, and talk, and smiles, and white teeth,--eternally pouring nonsense into her ear,--and she always smiling at what he said,-"Ridiculous! I thought she had more sense, than to encourage a coxcomb without a second idea, whose perpetual tongue and laugh are enough to stun any reasonable head, and whose only utility is---is--is--" "What, Sedley? out with it," said Frank, laughing. "What, sir?---Why to be a tailor's stalking horse, and exhibit on his person, that artist's last invention and performance." Hanbury laughed long and loud, at the idea of Messingham's becoming an utilitarian, and still louder and longer at every glance of his friend's iron visage,-exclaiming at intervals," Ha, ha !---poor Messingham,---an useful man,---cruel Sedley,--ha! ha! 'to what base uses we may return, Horatio."" "A truce to your grinning, Hanbury," replied the half angry Sedley, "and tell me what attractions can a fellow like that essence bottle have in the eyes of such a woman as Ellen Sandford. If such as he are the boast of your so much vaunted society,-vain will be the attempt to stem the flood, -I will retire into the privacy from which I was but a fool ever to have emerged, and leave a world of malevolence, cupidity, ignorance, and--pertness." "Bravely resolved, and magnanimously, and the whole world will admire the grandeur of soul, with which you retired from its moving scenes ;--your self-denial will be the theme of every tongue,---yes, you who, rich, handsome,--don't frown, Henry,--young, educated,--with important duties,--commensurate indeed with all these advantages,---to perform,---retreated from all,--duties included,---because a lively puppy caused an occasional smile from a light hearted girl." "Occasional! No, sir, it is a perpetual smile !---Occasional indeed,---it is no argument of sense, methinks, to love to be tickled with straws.---As for the fellow himself,-" "Jealous,--jealous by all the powers!---Oh! happy Sedley, has it come to this? Does Messingham thy jealous rage provoke? Has gentle Ellen smiled upon a rival?-Psha, psha, Harry, you have, in sober sadness, a better opinion both of yourself and her. Depend upon it, that the only advantage you can ever give any rival over yourself, in the mind of a girl like Ellen Sandford, is by indulging in splenetic complaints of the world,-which the young naturally view 'Couleur de Rose.' This remark of Hanbury's brought on the cynical exclamation with which our story is opened. Sedley had a scholar's horror of cant expressions from foreign languages, interlarding ordinary conversation, and upon the present occasion, that horror was mingled with pique, for to speak honest truth, the expression in question was a favorite one with Messingham, and had been uttered in his hearing, nay, uttered at him that very morning, in the ears of the woman he loved.---That he loved!--Yes, he had discovered that such were his emotions towards Ellen Sandford,---and to his jealousy of a rival, whom yet his soul disdained, he was indebted for the discovery. The two friends, as was intimated in the outset, now sat down to compare notes, and play the Mentor towards each other. And first, up spake the sage Hanbury. "My dear Harry, what is it makes you so unusually snarling this morning? I have labored faithfully and painfully to rid you of the host of blue devils which beset you formerly, both at bed and board;—and lo! Just as I was thinking of the beautiful restoration, the work of my head,—— I find my labors are no better than those of Sisyphus of old,—down comes-" own account. "Psha, Frank, a truce to folly. I have much to say to you,-on your exclaimed Hanbury, with an affected gravity, and hand extended. Sedley turned away in anger. "Nay, nay, Harry," cried Hanbury, "I am dumb.-Come, say on, I'll be all attention and seriousness." Sedley returned, and his countenance was more in sorrow than in anger." ແ Frank, I do really wish to say something to you; and it is even the ridiculous expression which you just now uttered, that calls to my recollection the subject on which I would speak." Hanbury conformed himself to the style of this exordium, and Sedley proceeded. "You have an advantage over me, dear Frank, in having all things presented to your imagination through a pleasing medium, and so far as it rationally adds to your happiness, I need hardly assure you, that sincerely I rejoice at it." "I wish to heaven, then, you would try to imitate it," interrupted Hanbury. "Patience, patience, Frank,-I speak of rational happiness, and my regrets, for regret is my next feeling,--my regrets are, that the exuberance of your spirits, and your confiding, unsuspecting soul, lead you to excesses under the name of kindness, at which your reflections would make you recoil, did you reflect at all on the matter." "Why--what---what, my dear preacher, ---what does all this amount to? What enormity are you about to fix upon me?" "Let me go on, my dear Frank.---I am not about to fix an enormity upon you.---I am only about to accuse you of that which, in the cant phrase of the day, is called 'an amiable weakness.' A disposition to comply with every request, of every applicant,--a want of firmness to refuse a favor to an undeserving person---an inability to say no,--a too-confiding disposition, which by believing every one to be honest in thought and word, makes you the willing dupe of every rascal." "Ay! your old point!" cried Hanbury, "mine honest philosopher, this is for the hundredth time the bone of contention between us. I maintain,--nay, and have made you confess it,---that yours is the temper of mind which requires meliorating.-Yours,--that of a snarling cynic, who looks around him with jealous eyes,-don't turn yellow at the word, I intend to refer specially to it before the conference is over,-who sees in every smile a sneer at himself,---who considers every whisper as some insidious slander upon him,--whose suspicions settle on all with whom he has connexion,-- and believes his character, his purse, and his happiness, to be marked for destruction by every one that knows him.---No, Harry, it is you who are the dupe,---not to others, but to yourself;--you wilfully pervert the blessings which surround you,---and turn into poison that which should nourish you,---your miserable chemistry makes that corrode your heart, which should add to your felicity;---by thinking all men your enemies, you make them so,--and you render useless, or nugatory at least, those fine talents, which would enable you to captivate in society, by the abrupt reply, the louring scowl, and the suspicious tone with which you meet every advance." "Your picture is false," exclaimed Sedley; "it is false in its coloring, it is out of truth in the drawing. I have lived in that condition which shows the human heart in its naked deformity. The world did not think it necessary to use disguise towards me. Its squabbles, its selfishness, its hypocrisy, its vices, have all been arrayed before me. Mankind have stalked forth without cloak or visor before my eyes, and by experience I assert, that knavery is the predominant affection among them. I therefore weigh well each man, ere I admit him to my confidence,-probe him ere I trust him, and thus escape the miserable disappointments which-which even now await you." "Wait me! me, Harry! What new feature is this in your sermon ?" "Even you, Frank, else is my experience naught. Has Benson ever repaid you the five hundred dollars you lent him?" "Pooh, pooh! Is that all? Poor Benson is half dead with confusion. His father has had losses, and cannot supply him yet with the needful." "Hah! Be it so,-of that hereafter. When did Crosweller settle with you for the pair of brown horses?" "Crosweller? Oh, six weeks ago;-what the deuce, you don't mean to include honest Crosweller in your croakings!" "I'm glad to hear it,-I was afraid he had not the cash, and I knew you were, as usual, run out.” "Cash-Oh, it was not exactly cash he gave me--but it was as good, you know, I have his note at three months." 66 "Oh! His note!-Talking of notes, Frank, I hope Dighton duly took up the bill which you indorsed for him, when he wished to purchase Summerfield's collection of books. But he must have done it, for I never heard-" Spare me, Harry, on that head. I confess I was obliged to pay that bill. Dighton fully expected a remittance which would have amply covered it, but it did not arrive in time, and as the holder was pressing, of course, you know, I was bound to pay it." "Exactly. So that, though you were put to temporary inconvenience, yet, when Dighton's remittance came in, all was right again. I'm glad of that, because I knew that bill was heavy. In fact, you recollect it was contrary to my--" "Deuce take your probing, as you call it. No,-poor Dighton happened to be devilish hard run, and as the mischief was done when he got the money, and as I knew that he would be in a botheration,-in fact, he told me so I consented to let it pass, till his next receipt of cash." Poor Dighton!-Poor Frank! But what did you say just now? 'The mischief-the mischief was done? What mischief was there in paying a bill?" MISCELLANEOUS NOTICES OF FINE ARTS, LITERATURE, SCIENCES, THE DRAMA, &c. PUBLIC EVENTS. Ir is not our intention at present to go into any account of the various transactions in the world of politics; but we should not feel duly acquitted of one particular portion of our duty, if we did not present to our readers the Inaugural Address of the Chief Magistrate of our States, upon his re-election to the Presidential Chair. Documents of this kind are always of important value; inasmuch as they make all the citizens of the states acquainted with the opinions and professions of the Individual, in whom is placed so highly responsible a trust, and tend to promote general tranquility and peace. The address was delivered on the 4th of March, and is as follows:— FELLOW CITIZENS.-The will of the American People, expressed through their unsolicited suffrages, calls me before you, to pass through the solemnities preparatory to taking upon myself the duties of President of the United States for another term. For their approbation of my public conduct, through a period which has not been without its difficulties, and for this renewed expression of their confidence in my good intentions, I am at a loss for terms adequate to the expression of my gratitude. It shall be displayed to the extent of my humble abilities, in continued efforts so to administer the government, as to preserve their liberty and promote their happiness. So many events have occurred within the last four years, which have necessarily called forth, sometimes under circumstances the most delicate and painful, my views of the principles and policy which ought to be pursued by the general government, that I need on this occasion but allude to a few leading considerations, connected with some of them. The foreign policy, adopted by our government, soon after the formation of our present constitution, and very generally pursued by successive administrations, has been crowned with almost complete success, and has elevated our character among the nations of the earth. To do justice to all, and submit to wrong from none, has been, during my administration, its governing maxim; and so happy have been its results, that we are not only at peace with all the world, but have few causes of controversy, and those of minor importance, remaining unadjusted. In the domestic policy of this government, there are two objects which especially deserve the attention of the people and their representatives, and which have been, and will continue to be, the subjects of my increasing solicitude. They are, the preservation of the rights of the states, and the integrity of the union. These great objects are necessarily connected, and can only be attained by an enlightened exercise of the powers of each within its appropriate sphere, in conformity with the public will constitutionally expressed. To this end, it becomes the duty of all to yield a ready and patriotic submission to the laws constitutionally enacted, and thereby promote and strengthen a proper confidence in those institutions of the several states, and of the United States, which the people themselves have ordained for their own government. My experience in public concerns, and the observation of a life somewhat advanced, confirm the opinions long since imbibed by me, that the destruction of our state governments, or the annihilation of their control over the local concerns of the people, would lead directly to revolution and anarchy, and finally to despotism and military domination. In proportion, therefore, as the general government encroaches upon the rights of the states, in the same proportion does it impair its own power, and detract from its ability to fulfil the purposes of its creation. Solemnly impressed with these considerations, my countrymen will ever find me ready to exercise my constitutional powers, in arresting measures which may directly or indirectly encroach upon the rights of the states, or tend to consolidate a political power in the general government. But of equal, and indeed of incalculable importance, is the union of these states, and the sacred duty of all to contribute to its preservation by a liberal support of the general government in the exercise of its just powers. You have been wisely admonished to "accustom yourselves to think and speak of the union as of the palladium of your political safety and prosperity, watching for its preservation with jealous anxiety, discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned, and indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of any attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together the various parts." Without union our independence and liberty would never have been achieved-without union they can never be maintained.-Divided into twenty-four, or even a smaller number of separate communities, we shall |