Doric, and the other in the Italian Palazzo style; and both exhibit that fine taste which distinguishes the architect's compositions. In the Athenæum have been held meetings, in which men eminent in political and literary circles have taken part; and when the British Association met at Manchester in 1842, the Royal Institution and the Athenæum (which are separated only a narrow street) were connected temporarily by a covered way, and placed at the disposal of the scientific strangers.

THE great manufacturing town of Manchester | new Houses of Parliament; one is in the Italian presents but few buildings of any great architectural pretensions. The above buildings are among the few that are entitled to any particular notice. The Manchester Athenæum was established as a sort of literary society for young men of the middle classes; where a library of books, the periodical journals, lectures, classes for the modern languages, &c., are placed at the disposal of the members for a moderate annual premium. It bears some resemblance to the Mercantile Librabrary Association of New York, and other similar institutions in this country. The Royal Institution was established for the encouragement of literature, science, and the arts; and it is creditable to the manufacturers of Manchester, that they subscribed nearly the whole of the money necessary for the construction of this fine building. Rooms for an annual exhibition of pictures and works of art, rooms for the School of Design, for the Manchester Geological Society, &c., are set apart from those which form the Royal Institution. Both this and the Athenæum are erected from the plans of Mr. Barry, the architect of the

The Literary and Philosophical Society, which the venerable Dalton did so much to elevate in European fame, derives all its value from the papers produced by it, and from the names enrolled among its members, and not from the building devoted to its meetings. So long as the Atomic Theory of Dalton remains as the basis of modern chemistry, so long will the Transactions' of this Society be held in grateful remembrance. Natural History Society has a Museum in Peter street-a neat building in which is deposited one of the best collections to be found in the provinces.

The

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A MONOMANIAC;

OR THE

VERITABLE HISTORY AND SURPRISING ADVENTURES OF JAMES TODDLEBAR,

COMPRISING THE WHOLE OF HIS EXTENSIVE CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE LITERATI OF THE NEW AND OLD WORLD, WITH REMARKS UPON AUTOGRAPHICAL DECIMATION OF PERSONAL CHARACTER. FROM ORIGINAL MSS. NOW IN THE POSSESSION OF THE TODDLEBAR FAMILY.

CHAPTER V.

EDITED BY JOE BOTTOM, ESQ.

would have accomplished my design, but was hurried from the city very unexpectedly, by a press As the weary traveller, who traces the wind- of complicated business, to a different place. All ing slopes of some deep declivity, with entangled this happened more than two years before I rebrushwood fettering his footsteps, finds at last in ceived her letter. In the interval she had won a the far distance an opening that leads to pleasant high name, for a young authoress, in the Republic valleys, so my weary spirit, that has so long been of Letters. As her letter was somewhat unique sitting under a heavy weight in a gloomy Novem- in its style, and in many parts deviated from the ber day, has been ushered, by the kindly sympa-subject on which I addressed her, and as she will thies of a woman's heart, into the glorious sum- figure somewhat extensively in the pages of this mer of perpetual sunshine. Dark as the day was, true history of the records of human feelings and and gloomy as the spirits were that stalked in passions, I have transcribed the veritable letter their bodiless forms around my habitation of wo, for the edification of the gentle reader: the day has brightened, and the tell spirits have vanished, and now haunt me no more. happy-but it is the happiness of one whose heart has been long pressed by care-surcharged with bitterness, and at last seen in a vista, rising from the ocean where it had been so long hid, the Morning Star-that star, that of old pointed with unerring accuracy to the place where the WORLD'S great Prophet was born-the REDEEMER of the people-how great was the revulsion, and how joyous was the change. The star was there, brightly beaming, and sweetly shedding on my heart the nepenthe that it had so long needed, and that it had sighed to obtain.

I am

My old love had been transferred (for it had not died) to an object as sweetly beautiful, and as beautifully sweet, as the one, who, in her beauty, had nestled her charms in the humid dampness and the chilly arms of DEATH. She was not less beautiful than the other, nor was she mentally less gifted. In form my old love flaunted before my eyes in all the exquisite grandeur and beautiful proportions of Venus de Medicis the high impersonation of that glorious goddess, while the object of my living love stood before me, the personation of the Venus Anadyomene of Appeles. At once graceful and light, she blended the voluptuous charms of one with all the exquisite gracefulness of the other. Such was the woman of my idolatry-such was the shrine at which my heart had paid its worship.

A few weeks previous to the time appointed for starting on my southern journey, and while my heart had almost recovered from the disquietude into which the untimely death of Sulma had thrown it, I received, through the post office, an epistle from a young lady whom I had previously seen revelling in the young joys of her maidenhood. The place where I first saw her was in the Chesnut street Theatre, Philadelphia, and she was pointed out to me as the most beautiful and accomplished woman in the city. I endeavored at the time to procure an introduction to her, and

PHILADELPHIA,

have induced me, ere this, to have answered your Courtesy, if nothing else, Mr. Toddlebar, would letter, had not circumstances, over which I had no control, prevented me. There is a magic in sincerity which finds its way at once to the heart, and feeling quite confident, from the tone of your epistle, that I am dealing with a gentleman, I will a "plain unvarnished tale disclose." It seemed talking, (as it were,) with one whom I had long to me, while reading your letter, that I were known, and highly esteemed. There was so much respect, and withal, so many kindly feelings, with a conviction that the author could not be that candor compels me to say I was impressed otherwise than one whom I should be proud to call-friend.

chance you may know, at least by reputation. I I have three brothers, sir, some of whom peram the youngest child in the family, and consequently, the favorite, if not the flower of our happy household. My eldest brother has been moted to a Captaincy at a very early period of life, for years master of an East Indiaman; he was prosince which time he has made several voyages to Canton, which, for speed, have never been rivalled. with a long description of the other two brothers-a descrip(NOTE BY THE EDITOR.-The manuscript here is filled tion that can be of no interest to the reader, consequently, this portion of the letter is suppressed.)

I am

Pardon my egotism, but you wrote me as a stranger, thereby paying me a flattering compliment, and I conceive it a duty, as I feel it a pleasure, to make a brief mention of my kindred as a guaratee of my respectability. Methinks I hear you say you have not told why you answered not my letter at once. I will tell you now. in the habit of receiving many, very many letters from various places, and Mr. Godey, (one of my most intimate friends) having a box at the Post Office, usually receives my letters: two of my brothers, and my father, were present when he gave it me, and of course asked to see it. Oh!

if you knew how punctilious they all are. As I before remarked, I felt as though I should plume myself on your acquaintance, and wished to answer it at once, but they objected flatly. They said that if you knew any one by whom you could be introduced by letter to me, that would be the proper way, and until then I should do nothing in the matter. I dared not object after the fiat had gone forth, but in my heart I felt that it would be treating you wrongly, and determined, as soon as an opportunity offered, to assure you that I was not ungrateful.

Although at that sweet place called home, surrounded by those who are connected by the ties of blood, even my mother-she who has watched beside my infant couch, and soothed my childish cares does not share my thoughts. I have bowed down beneath that utter loneliness of feeling, which cries out at every hour, thou art, alone, wrapped in its unparticipated solitude. I may smile on, and laugh loudly to deceive those about me, but still life is to me a very weariness, for I am not understood by those who surround me. I have had friends and lovers, but still they filled not up the measure of my wishes-they were not kindred spirits, and there was an aching void: I love my relations, many of them almost worship

me,

Immediately on the reception of this letter from Miss Todhunter, I addressed her one through the Post Office, and from that time, for several months, we continued to correspond regularly. Friendship to woman, at any time, is a dangerous thing, for friendship invariably ripens into love. It was so in this instance, although the rule may not hold good in every case, from a simple profession of friendship, we became very ardent lovers. My letters had touched a tender chord in her bosom, and responsive to the vibration, she yielded a full and cordial sympathy. I had now two beautiful and intellectual women deeply attached to me, both confiding, and both too generous to doubt my undivided attachment. Can I be blamed then for my possession of human vanity?

On going to the Post Office one day, among other letters, I received, to my surprise and indignation, the following from a Mr. Louis A. Godey, of Philadelphia.

PHILADELPHIA, July 23.

DEAR SIR,-Miss Laura Todhunter is now in the receipt of some six or eight letters from you. As a friend of that lady, will you communicate your intentions to me in thus addressing her. Very Respecfully Yours,

Mary

but my affections are deeper than life, stronger than death, high as my wishes and deep as my scorn. When my friends say of me," she is depressed." Ah! who can tell what lies hid beneath the hollow mask of the world's cold smile. I feel at times as though this world was not worth cleaving to, and that "to die is gain." The light of many an eye must be quenched, the music of many a sweet and familiar voice be hushed, and the throbbings of many high and ardent spirits he quieted forever; childhood must pass untimely At the same time, I had the honor of receiving away into a land of shadows; youth must be ar- a very sweet one from my beloved Laura. I wrote rested in its bright career; beauty must say unto her immediately, and very indignantly, on the subthe worm," thou art my sister," and to corruption, ject of Mr. Godey's interference in the matter. "thou art my brother;" manhood must be stricken To this letter of mine, in the due course of mail, down in its vigor and prime, and weary and worn I had the pleasure of receiving from her the folold age must be gathered to mansions of eternal lowing apologetic letter. Enclosed in her letter, rest! The pride of the family circle, and its prop, I received, on an ivory plate, her miniature, painted must be laid low; there will be vacant seats by by Sully. It was a gift not only valuable as bethe hearth-stone, and green graves in the church- ing the true likeness of a beautiful woman, but it yard! It is a fearful thing to love what death was sacred to me, as the production of a great American Artist. may touch.

When I commenced writing, I intended my epistle should be, to use a cynical expression, "brief as a woman's love," but I have extended it to an enormous, aye, a terrifying length. Nay, do not frown, I throw myself entirely upon your generosity for forgiveness, and have the vanity to hope that all my delinquencies will find an advocate in your kindness.

Permit me,
in conclusion, to offer you, Mr. Tod-
dlebar, unfeigned wishes for health, happiness,
and future prosperity. I shall, of course, expect
you to be, with regard to this letter, silent and
secret as the reproofs of conscience. I shall at
any time be glad to hear from you, and call you
friend. Direct, should you write, to the care of
Louis A. Godey, and do not revert in the remotest
degree to my answer-my friends, after the pro-
bition would be greatly chagrined.

With remembrance and kindness,
LAURA TODHunter.

PHILADELPHIA,

I have just received Mr. Toddlebar, from my brother, a letter from you, which I conceive a duty to answer immediately. You have no conception how deeply I regret that I should have been the innocent, unintentional cause of having your feelings wounded in the remotest degree. The letter, of which you sent a fac-simile, was new to me, but from personal experience-my own knowledge of Mr. Godey-I am quite confident there has been some misunderstanding. I have known Mr. Godey intimately, have associated closely with him for years, and have found him, on all occasions, a gentleman in the true sense of the word; high-souled, and to the letter generous and manly. Your own good sense will at once convince you that he could have no object in insulting one who never injured him, and towards

whom he could entertain no bostility; one who | blance is not an imaginary thing, that the idealist has proved himself by his letters to be a gentle- may deal in to accomplish his train of thought, man, and a man of genius. Nay, you may believe which tends to subserve a certain purpose, but it is a me, when I say, whatever appearances may be, real and truthful index to the intellectual character. Mr. Godey meant no offence; he is as familiar in As much as Casuists may dispute about the falsity our city as a household word, and his urbanity of of the peculiar resemblance that the mind bears to manner and suavity of address, have made him the hand writing of an individual, there is no truth, an acknowledged-a universal favorite. He is we think, better established than this. Take, for my brother's most intimate friend, and his actions instance, the signatures of the Signers of the Deto them, as well as his numberless kindnesses to claration of American Independence, and compare me, impress me with the conviction that you have each name seperately with those of our present mistaken his character and intentions. I am not United States Senators, and the most casual obsurprised that you should feel aggrieved. I can, server will be struck forcibly with the great difaye, and do understand your feelings upon this ference between the relative strength of the occasion, but am confident his interference was characters of each. The former is massive, with not ill-meant. For my sake, think no farther breadth and depth, portraying most truthfully the upon the subject, let it be from henceforth and peculiar idiosyncrasies of those men of iron souls for ever as buried treasure, as departed things, as and determined purposes, while the latter, in a dream all told, which has not even left a memory. most instances, will be found at once petite and Mr. Godey is a Benedict, he has a sweet lovely unformed. wife, with whom 1 am most intimate, so that in Although the lute of Amphion raised the walls my eulogy of him there can be no sinister motive. or Thebes, the beautiful lyric, "My life is like the Pardon the brevity of this scrawl, I am at this Summer Rose," has scarcely diffused its aroma moment languishing beneath an excrutiating head-on the hearts of the American people. This ache, which compels me perforce to conclude my letter hastily. I have taken the liberty of forwarding you an old number of the Lady's book, with an article of my own in it. Accept unfeigned wishes for health, happiness, etc., and should you visit Philadelphia at any future time, no one will welcome you with more pleasure than she who subscribes herself,

simple song is one of the most beautiful lyrics of American Muse. Although its popularity is far extended, and its beauties highly appreciated, it is not more popular than it is deservedly meritorious. Its Author, Richard Henry Wilde, in his magnificent conception of the beautiful, conceived this ditty, and then no more, forever, touched again the lyre in simple numbers. He was willing to rest his future fame on this solitary "Rose." He wrote other things, and his muse attempted other flights, but the divine afflatus seemed to have departed from his bosom.

(NOTE BY THE EDITOR.-The originality of this song has been seriously contested by many of the critics, both of the Old and the New World. Whatever merit may appertain to the piece, even admitting its originality, I can conceive of none, save that of the negative kind. Its merit certainly is not of such positive character as to make it of equal renown to some other lyrics which I could mention, as having emenated from American authors.)

Mr. Wilde, who but recently departed this life in New Orleans, wrote a hand un-marked by any high characteristics. Although chaste, it was wanting in the picturesque, and there is nothing in his chirogrophy to denote a mind of a high order of genius. With the single exception of the song just mentioned, he has written nothing thing startling, beautiful or grand. He has in prose in verse to denote a mind capable of producing any (which was his forte) done better things. As a jurist, his learning aided him, but it could bring no fruits for his imagination. He had a kind and generous disposition, and his loss has been a very serious calamity to the social circles in which he moved. The chasm will not be filled by any which he moved, to take his place. Among the many letters which I have at different times received from him, the following one, and the first written to me, will, perhaps, give as correct a notion of what the man was, as any other in my collection.

other, for there was no one in the select circles in

In my investigation on the subject of chirography, I have found that the mental constitution of WASHINGTON, February 21, 1843. man bears, through its every ramification, a marked DEAR SIR,-Your very flattering letter of the resemblance to his hand writing. This resem-27th ult., received August, after my departure, and

was forwarded to me here, where my professional engagements in the Supreme Court of the U. S. have prevented an earlier reply.

Having, as I have always done, a more humble estimate of the merit of the trifle to which you refer, than the public and yourself have been pleased to call it, the very exaggeration of such praise is an additional claim to my gratitude, and

while I must humbly and sincerely deny my title to such high honors, it would be ungracious not to acknowledge how many obligations I am under to so kind an allusion.

Receive my thanks for the warm interest you express in my pursuits and believe me, with the best wishes, Very Faithfully Yours,

Richard Kerry Wille

During the Tyler Dynasty (that peculiar interregnum which happened between the death of Harrison and the election of Polk) I was in full correspondence with the chief members of the President's household. Having had the misfortune to be appointed by Mr. Van Buren to an office in one of the South-western States, Mr. Tyler found me administering the duties of my office in a manner that suited my own peculiar views, and not after the manner of the Vicar of Bray. I was written to several different times, on the subject of my peculiar predelictions, by the high functionaries composing the elite of the" White House." The first letter which I had the honor of receiving from any of the persons alluded to, was from the President himself, and was in the following words: to wit:

WASHINGTON CITY,

MY DEAR SIR,-The peculiar circumstances in which I have been placed by the death of William Henry Harrison, coupled with the spiteful opposition which the Whig party has taken against my administration, renders it necessary for me to address a few of the leading members of the Van Buren party on the subject of sustaining my views, in relation to the administration of the Government. Believing that I will find in you a friend, and one disposed to be generous, even to

COLUMBIA, TENnnessee,

DEAR SIR, A long acquaintance with you, and some previous knowledge of your family, have induced me to address you on the subject of the pending Presidential contest. It is well known to you, that I have not sought the office at the hands of the American people, but as the Convention, in its partiality, has nominated me to this high and responsible office, I feel it a duty

an enemy, I make free to ask you for an unbiassed opinion of my acts since I have been President of the United States.

Hoping to hear from you on the subject, and believing that you will preserve the necessary secresy,

I am, very Respectfully, Your friend,

Pyler

On the very day that I received the above letter, and by the very same mail, I had the honor of receiving one from James K. Polk, then a candidate for the highest office in the gift of the American people. It is strange what means are resorted to, by candidates for office, to accomplish the leading wishes of their hearts. The sum of twenty-five thousand dollars per annum, is certainly a good bait to throw out to catch humanity. There are some hearts so high, however, that no sinister motives can induce the will to prostrate the soul on the altar of the World's Ambition. The letter from Mr. Polk was as follows:

that I owe the party which has voluntarily sought my advancement, to use all lawful means to gratify the wishes of my friends.

You will, therefore, please oblige me by informing me, by return mail, what my prospects are for getting the electoral vote of your State.

With assurances of my high respect, I am
Yours very Sincerely,

Jamez di Ber

The autograph of Mr. Polk is much better, and | It is in good keeping, and in common with his far more picturesque than is his general chirography. His chirography is common place, such as almost any man of good education would write.

mental character, which is devoid of originality, or any just conceptions of the beautiful. Such a man will never err to the extent of infamy, nor