paper, were bountifully expelled. Presently he was relieved, by disgorging the last fragments of a rat's-nest, with four or five blind young ones. Having 'hemmed and hawed' several times, he at length proceeded: 'I feel my breath short and my lungs weak through inaction, so that I can only give you the essence of what I intended saying. We have endured scorn and insult, in silent patience, till forbearance is no longer a virtue. We have been shamefully cuffed and kicked, in the public service of our masters. At home, we have been cruelly neglected, and thrown into a gloomy dungeon, to starve almost to death, and to suffer pangs of the most intense thirst, only partly appeased occasionally by rain, dropping through our leaky roof. We have seen our loved companions dragged from our presence, and torn and hewed to pieces, to gratify the idle caprices of our cruel

owners.

'What indignities have they not heaped upon us! They have not granted us even brute existence. Of sex they have never dreamed. Strange! that they should doubt it, while they acknowledge affection and companionship in almost all other existences; when even the cold and inanimate vegetable, which comes and goes, and can only live in the breath of the summer wind, should have sex, and should love and be loved by a tender mate: when they see

'How sweetly in the evening breezes,
Affianced roses bend and kiss.'

Ah! little did the good and just of Greece and Rome, when they trimmed us out in every hue, and loaded us with jewels - when, with prophetic forecaste, they fixed forever in the heavens its brightest constellation, Bootes little did they dream of our future mean

estate!'

The poor fellow said all this with an incoherent fervor, that proved his sincerity. The tears that trickled down the dusty cheeks of his audience almost called up kindred drops in mine; and in fact determined me at once to make known to the whole world their forlorn condition. I was exceedingly gratified, therefore, when, after seeming to be fixed in thought for a moment or two, he proceeded :

'Some of us, however, remonstrate against proceeding to extremities against all mankind, whatever be the matter and determination of our vengeance. My master, who was a professional man of reputation, often treated me with a kindness that gained my esteem. After walking through the streets, he always brushed off the choking dust, and restored me to my former glossiness. Ah me! I remember too how often after the daily toil of his profession was ended, he used to seat himself by the brisk fire in his study, and pore over a volume of history or poetry till midnight. Then, while the snuff slowly mouldered from the end of the wick, which rose high above the flame, and threw a dusky shadow over the room; while the hot tallow, like the molten lava from Etna, streamed over the brim, and whitened the table around; then I used to climb up the chair of the deep sleeper, and gazing over his shoulder, dimly ponder many a glorious page. And when the candles would burn down, and oily bubbles in the sockets dance,' how stealthily would I creep down, fearful and trembling lest he should awake! It was thus I acquired a fund of informa

tion, which it is not often the luck of boots to possess. Indeed, my master's kindnesses and all those past enjoyments more than compensate his after negligence. Honestly, on more mature reflection' - and here the mellow thoughts of the past seemed to soften his former bitterness - 'do you not deem it best to first remonstrate with men, before we prosecute our design? He could not but grant us justice. My goodness! gentleboots, just let him consider, if some huge animal, as much larger than himself as he is larger than us, should take hold of him by the ears, throw his head back, and cram his foot down his throat! what a precious-looking —'

'Bah! bah!' exclaimed a conceited and effeminate voice, in the opposite corner, regardless of the deep solemnity of the occasion; and up popped a foppish, fidgetty little fellow, with a small silken tassel swinging before him, who had belonged to a very fine gentleman, Lusyus Ladyfinger, Esq., a distant relation of ours. He had been able no longer to contain himself, and continued in rather a lofty pitch: 'Now I have been a boot long enough to know that what old Doctor Pippin says is all fudge. We intend to wring the tears from the villains, by griping their feet till every bone and nerve shall ache with the torture, and till every wrinkle and thread in their stockings shall be buried in the fiery, blistered skin!' Here he compressed his leathern lips, and looked stern. 'That's the way we 'll fix 'em! If every boot would do that, and persist in not being stretched at all, we could all soon sit at our ease in the cobbler's window, or play what pranks we pleased in our old closets. And we must have revenge for our murdered companions. Bring forth the bodies!'

I was startled to see four blinking creatures solemnly carry forward on a shingle the ghastly remains of a pair of boots, from which I had cut the feet for slippers on that very morning.

In the meantime old Physic Pippin, M. D., frowned and shrugged his shoulders uneasily; and when Ladyfinger had ended, coughed a little significantly. That dainty personage immediately sprang to his foot. I suppose, however,' said he, in a contemptuous and sarcastic tone, 'a few very strong-minded boots, and perhaps too the whole very honorable body of shoes, will reject any such spirited proposal.' Then winking very knowingly in the direction of the bootesses, and bobbing his head to the assembly, he dropped into his seat.

In a moment, the carcasses were dashed to the floor, all sprang to their feet, and groans, screams, stamping of feet, hisses, and female shrieks, were heard from every quarter. The tumult increased; and it was not long before the whole infuriated body were biting, and yelling, and kicking, in deadly contest; and a dust was raised which hid the combatants from my sight.

In the morning, when I awoke, I ran hastily to the old boot-closet. There were no signs of last night's battle. I rubbed my eyes, but still I could discover no traces. The dust slumbered upon the musty pile. The heavy cob-webs dangled down the dirty panes. Each boot lay as it had lain for years. I kicked one over, almost expecting a groan; the dry dust only whirled up, like a cloud, in the straggling sunbeams. From that day to this I have never been able to solve the mystery, nor to catch any of those old boots at any of their mutinous frolics.

W. S.

CAUSED BY THE EARTHQUAKE IN JANUARY LAST: BY FLACCUS.

'Some say the earth was fev'rous, and did shake.'- MACBETH.

I LAY at morn half-conscious of the dawn:

My pausing soul, touched by returning sense
Of duty, yet unwilling to forbear

Her rosy journey through the land of dreams,
Hung doubtful like a cloud 'twixt heaven and earth
Midway, or like a failing bird that long

Had beat the ether of sublimer spheres,
Reluctant downward drooped; when suddenly
Shouted a mighty voice, and truant Reason

Leaped to her post: deep inward groans, as though
The uttered grief of Earth's capacious breast,
Came up, and her profound and solid frame
Shuddered beneath me, that my lifted couch
Quivered unsteady as a floating bark:
Wonder and awe oppressed me, and I felt
Held for the instant in the hand of GOD!
I knew the frantic EARTHQUAKE in his car
Had rattled by, and laughed; and visions swift
Trooped o'er my brain, of horrors manifold
That have befallen when this mighty orb
Cracked like a globe of glass, alarming nations
With the wild thunder; whose deep-rung vibrations
Ran jarring from the tropic to the pole:

When cities shook, unseated; and loose walls,
And staggering towers across the peopled streets,
Nodded and knocked their heads, in ponderous ruin
Deep-burying all below: wildest convulsion
Of all that agitate the frame of Nature!

How solemn 't is upon the rocking deep
To feel the mastery of the lawless waves!
Helpless, uncertain but their treacherous arms
That lift us up so high may part apace,
And down to dark and unimagined horrors
Leave us to sink: what double terror then
When sober Earth mimics the reeling sea!
And plains, upheaving into billows, yield
Unsolid to the foot of man and beast;
When our sure dwelling, like a foundering bark,
Pitches and rolls, the plaything of those strange
Unnatural waves, while hideous underneath
Yawn greedier caves than deepest ocean hides,
Glutted with fragments of the shipwrecked earth,
Clashing and plunging down! O! let us kneel
And offer up the incense of our thanks
To Him that spared us blow so horrible,
And only laid his lightest finger-touch
(Gently as though the frozen frame of Earth
Had barely shivered with the wintry chill,

Or as some wing of passing angel, bound

From sphere to sphere, had brushed the golden chain
That hangs our planet to the throne of God,)

To jog our sluggish memories that His hand

Upholds, commands us still.

Tremble, ye rich!

Where were your mansions now, had He, indignant,

Pushed from their firm foundations? Where your lands,

Had His unpitying hand, withdrawing, left

Their unsupported burthen to go down

To the strange bottom of some new-born sea?
Tremble, ye great! ye puny apes of power,

That with mock-majesty misrule the earth,

Where were ye now, had His scorned sceptre
In earnest ire fell on your heads? Ye! whom
This lightest pulse of the almighty heart
Quails to your just dimensions! Yet wherefore
Bid warning to the rich, the great, alone,
When ALL should reverent bow: have we not all
A stake more priceless than command or gold-
His favor? Let our thousand hearts, that stirred
Like leaves at this hushed whisper of His might,
Pause, and with inward probing seek the cause
That drew the chiding of the sovereign down.
Are his commands forgot? - our solemn duties
Ill-done? or left, through folly's vain pursuit,
Untouched? Then let us wisely take new heart,
And from the couch that trembled at His touch
Rise up, resolved to bend us to our task
With manly zeal, that at the close of day
We may go up to meet our Master's face,
And claim the promised wages without shame!

Thus lulled to calm reliance in the fold
Of 'everlasting arms,' should lurking tempests
Spring sudden upon sleeping Nature; should
Rebellious fires, that in embowelled Earth
Lie prisoned, rise, and writhing to be free,
Burst her centripetal and iron bands -
Unhinging continents, uprooting mountains,
Until her ragged quarters all at large
Fly diverse into space, leaving a gap

Of yawning night, wherein our helpless form

Drops like a stone, piercing an unknown gulf,

Too deep for thought to sound - how would we smile

At baffled Fate! safe in the precious trust

That we had won us an Almighty friend,

And he would lend us wings to break our fall!

MODERATION vs. TEE TOTALISM.

'Every inordinate câp is unblest.'- SHAKSPEARE.

THIS is the age of extremes. We said on a former occasion that all extremes are tyrannies. There is not one man in a thousand who keeps the prudent middle course, either in religion or politics; or indeed, in any thing that affects the social or moral tone of society. We exist in a constant fever of excitement; and those living on one side of an extreme, denounce with unmeasured severity all who dwell on the opposite. Because different men entertain different opinions, or do not worship by the same creed, is that a cause of quarrel? For that shall we call each other knaves, fools, or infidels? To do so, would argue against the good manners, nay, against the common sense, of the accuser. Every man should extend to his neighbor that courtesy which he claims for himself. This is the golden rule of good breeding. What courtesy, then, does he expect, who is ever ready to denounce all those who differ from him in opinion? Perhaps it never entered into his brain to ask such a question: he never thought of such a thing; or what is quite as likely, such a man never came honestly by a correct thought in all his life. The million get their thoughts from an intelligent friend, as they do their garments from a tailor, ready made. The garments are theirs by possession, if not by payment; and so the thoughts are theirs. Man is a sheep;

as the bell-wether leads, the whole flock follows, whether it be to good pasturage or over a precipice. This truth, however, few are willing to confess their self-esteem will not consent; but it is not therefore the less true.

:

I am an advocate of MODERATION IN ALL THINGS. The inordinate use, the general use, of intoxicating draughts, I condemn, and should rejoice to see a custom so pernicious abandoned. Some who call themselves temperate, total abstinence people, simply because their drink is simple, are the most intemperate of men. They have indulged so long a time to surfeit in choice and high-seasoned dishes, that their appetites reject plain and wholesome food, with a feeling similar to that of the drunkard who rejects pure water. I have seen some give way to fierce and ungovernable passion, and heard them, with intemperate spleen, vilify and abuse their neighbors. I have seen men thirst for money as eagerly as the drunkard thirsts for liquor. I have seen others smoke cigars or chew tobacco till they became stupid or sick. And worse than all, I have seen reformed drunkards rush to opium. Yet they were called temperate, because they did not drink! Because a man refuses the inebriate cup, does it follow that he is temperate? By no means. Immoderate eating is as demoralizing to the body as intemperate drinking; and, I might almost say, equally injurious are ungovernable passions. Walk in the thoroughfares: we may distinguish the plethoric glutton as easily as the bloated drunkard.

There is a class of ultras, some of whom I have seen eat most voraciously, who banish animal food, tea, coffee, and many most delicious et ceteras from their table, who use unbolted flour, and call it Graham bread; who, in short, think it a virtue not to take the goods the gods provide. Such people confer no benefit on the public, but often inflict suffering on themselves. This Graham bread is as old as the hills, and was known for ages before the clan of Graham existed. To some constitutions it is most injurious, while to others it may be beneficial; but, like Brandreth's pills, though much bepraised, it kills more than it cures.

Let us glance at the history of intemperance: it is a vice older than the records of man; for in the oldest we find warnings addressed to the intemperate, and denunciations uttered against them. The annals of almost every tribe or people, savage or civilized, tell us that intemperance has prevailed, sometimes to a greater and sometimes to a less degree: yes, and in some regions and ages it was deemed a virtue. Man is ever prone to allege a plausible reason for the indulgence of his appetite. Among the heathen nations of old, feasts and festivals were introduced into their religious ceremonies. On some occasions the drunkest was often regarded as the most pious. He who drank the deepest, honored his gods the highest.

In the early ages of Christianity, certain customs crept into the church, so like those of the heathen, that we may venture to assert they were borrowed from them: they are not authorized in the gospels. During these ages, priests of various grades abased themselves by vile debaucheries; the rich as well as the poor imitated their vices with more zeal than they emulated their virtues. Happily for the world, the teachers of religion are now most generally exem