he well knows his term of absence has not rand, Charles inquired what was his father's expired." opinion of Mr. Wesley?

Tears were her only reply; while Charles, pointing to the disbanded boquet, informed his mother, that this, together with the invitatio to the party, had procured them the favor of Mr. Wesley's call.

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Favor, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Somerfield. "I presume you are not aware that his principal recommendation is his extreme poverty, yet he presumes to aspire-"

"Allow me to interrupt you, dearest mother," said the doctor, "by inquiring if the young gentleman in question has any glaring fault of character that thus embitters your feelings? As his arrival in this city was subsequent to my departure from it, I must rely on the opinions of others with regard to him, rather than my own observations."

"He has not been very energetic in the acquirement of his profession," replied Mrs. Somerfield, after a moment's deliberation.

"Mother," interposed the gentle Rebecca, "do allow that charity which I believe you to possess, to extend to Mr. Wesley. Has he not contended successfully with the scorn which proud worldlings have poured on him, and, despite adverse circumstances that would have discouraged any but one of his gigantic mind, he has made such acquirements as will, I trust, enable him to pursue his professional duties in a manner so exalted as to gain him universal commendation."

"And what have you to say in behalf of your friend," asked Charles, addressing Mar"Whither has that bright spirit fled ?" he inquired, as he now for the first time perceived her seat was vacant.

tha.

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Martha," answered Rebecca, "like a true military tactician, retreats where defence is impracticable-or, in more fitting language, her kind nature cannot brook these hostile feelings towards one to whom she is so warmly attached; and, lest she should be led to make a hasty reply, she retires when Mr. Wesley's merits and demerits are, as at present, the subject of free discussion."

"I hope," said the doctor," my mother has not forgotten that she was privileged to make her own selection, and will, from kind regard to the best feelings of her daughter, allow her the same liberty."

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Indeed, sir," she replied, "I cannot now, nor never will, willingly, consent that the beautiful and gifted daughter of Emma Somerfield should become the wife of an obscure, pennyless lawyer-and, Rebecca, I wish you instantly to communicate to her my decision, which is definite, and from which she must never expect me to retract."

"I have not troubled myself to ascertain," was his mother's reply. "Martha has not now to learn (as you are well aware) that my authority is undisputed, and alone a sufficient reason why she must at once abandon the thought of an alliance with that despicable man. What audacity, what impertinence would consign my daughter to the mortificaon his part, to suppose for a moment that I tions, the parsimony, the disgrace which would be the legitimate consequences of such a union. The thought is truly intolerable," and so exasperated did Mrs. Šomerfield become, that she concluded by saying —“I should most heartily rejoice in Sumner Wesley's death.'

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"Mother!" exclaimed the doctor, in deep amazement, can it be possible that such a thought should ever have intruded itself into your mind, and have been suffered to obtain utterance from your lips. Where are we to look for all that is amiable and lovely, if a mother's bosom be not found the repository? Think me not deficient in filial respect," he continued, as he hurriedly walked the apartment-" when I assure you, the discovery I have this evening made, has given rise to feelings of surprise and regret which know no bounds. It has shown me clearly as if written with a sun beam,' that wealth is merit in your estimation; and that

you

have coolly and deliberately resolved to sacrifice the happiness of your daughter at the shrine of your ambition. You have evidently been thwarted in your expectations for Martha; may I not inquire whom you have selected as worthy this inestimable gift?"

"That I have had my plans respecting her, I admit," returned Mrs. Somerfield. "You doubtless recollect the gentleman with whom we became acquainted at the Sulphur Springs in Virginia-Mr. Emerson, of Philadelphia.”

"Augustus Emerson! I would you were really acquainted with him, if it is to his keeping you wish to commit the happiness your daughter."

of

"Why? What objections can you urge against him? If I mistake not, it is to you Martha is indebted for her introduction to Mr. Emerson," said the mother, with much earnestness.

"I admit,” replied the doctor, "that I introduced him to my sister, but it was on the recommendation of Walter Insley, in whom we had at that time unlimited confidence; but he has, as you well know, since proved a most consummate villain. That Augustus Emerson is, in all respects, fitted to be the As soon as Rebecca, in obedience to her associate and friend of such a man, I firmly mother, had left the parlor on her painful er-believe-if every species of immorality and

My informant was a recent class-mate, one whom I have never known to indulge in slander, and who has long been familiar with the character of Mr. Emerson. He represented him as wealthy, and of a highly re-tensity of thought and feeling within. At spectable family, but a man with whom any mother, possessed of maternal feelings, would shudder to see her daughter connected. To conclude, I have been taught in these two instances, what should long since have been indellibly impressed on my mind, that appearances are very deceptive.'

"Why do you give the words at present, "Not if I may be allowed my choice of so much emphasis," said Mrs. Somerfield, remedies," he replied, at the same time glanc-looking inquiringly into the face of her husing significantly at his mother.

feelings of the woman were emerged in the furnished house, where all their servants, save more tender emotions of the wife. Taking one, were to be dispensed with, and the most Mr. Somerfield's hand, while deep anxiety rigid economy practised-not a murmur eswas depicted on her countenance, she said-caped her lips. She was cheerful herself, Speak, George. What has happened to and encouraged a contented disposition in all agitate you thus? Do not attempt to conceal about her-leaving no effort untried to susany thing from me." tain Mr. Somerfield under his reverses, and to restore Martha to her natural vivacity.

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After gaining sufficient self-control, he said-"Emma, I am bankrupt?"

After the family had been for some time established in their new home, while Charles was paying them a visit, he observed Martha arranging, with unusual care, a vase of rare flowers, which she had cultivated with her own fair hands.

Had a "thunderbolt fallen at the feet" of Mrs. Somerfield, she could not have recoiled more horror-stricken than at this unexpected communication from her husband. To have, in a moment, all the ambitious schemes which she had been for years maturing, thus frus- "What mean all the preparations which I trated; to see herself compelled to descend have witnessed to-day," he enquired.— from the dizzy height from which she, in fan-"Whose exquisite taste are these beautiful cied security, had so long looked in disdain flowers intended to gratify?" he added, as on those below her, was more than her proud he playfully abstracted a white rose-bud from nature could brook. She was laid fainting the vase, and entwined it in the rich dark on the sofa, and Mr. Somerfield immediate- curls of Martha, that shaded a cheek which ly summoned his children to attend their mo- now gave every evidence of a perfect restother. ration to health.

"Allow me to reply, brother Charles," said Rebecca, who had also been silently regarding her sister. "Martha wished, very much, to surprise you; and had vainly endeavored to exact a promise of secresy from me."

After using efficient restoratives for her, he acquainted them with the embarrassed state of his affairs, and further informed them, that having perfect confidence in the integrity of Sumner Wesley, with whom he had met in London, (whither he had gone immediately after receiving a letter from Mar- "A recent letter from England, informed tha acquainting him with her mother's hos- us that Mr. Wesley was about to return, and tile feelings towards him) he had committed (very unexpectedly to us) he brings with the settlement of his business to him, request-him a competency for our father, which he ing him, if possible, to satisfy the just demands has honestly rescued from the general of his creditors, and inform him speedily of the result.

The sudden and intense excitement occasioned by the overwhelming intelligence from her husband, was productive with Mrs. Somerfield of a violent brain-fever, attended with delirium, which, after continuing unabated for several days, at length yielded to depleting remedies. She received every attention from her family which kind feelings could suggest, and unwearied patience and assiduity bestow; and when reason resumed her sway, and long exclusion from the world by the debility consequent upon the severity of her illness, together with the means used for its removal, had afforded time and opportunity for reflection, and a critical examination of conduct and motives, Emma Somerfield was a different woman.

The furnace of affliction through which she had passed, had removed the dross of erroneous opinions, and had shown her the utter vanity of setting "her affections on things on the earth, rather than on things above.' When the straitened circumstances of her husband demanded an entire change in their domestic arrangements, also the abandonment of their present abode, which was one of almost princely splendor, for a small, plainly

wreck."

"Proceed," said the doctor, as he plainly perceived that the greater secret was yet untold.

"Well, to make a grand expose," continued Rebecca, "we shall look for his arrival the day after to-morrow, and on Thursday of next week, Martha is, by the consent of our parents, to become Mrs. Wesley."

"By your permission, take the flowers," said Martha, looking archly at her sister." Since Rebecca has chosen whatsoever ye would men should do to you, do ye even so to them,' for her rule of conduct, I presume she will not object to my telling you, that she is at the same time and place to become the wife of the Rev. Frederick Beaumont, of Boston.'

BARBARA.

The following pleasant little story is termed a frolic of fortune, but it is not so. It is the true and natural course of events.

Pa

tient toil, and faithful efforts in the perforinance of duty, never yet have gone unrewarded. There is no situation in life, however humble and obscure, in which we cannot make ourselves so useful to those around us, that they will be unwilling to part with us. Indeed, the humbler the lot of the individual, the easier it is in his power to rise in his situation, because the demand for fidelity in these situations is always in advance of the supply, and in each grade to which we rise, the competitor's increase; and a new stock of patience, energy and fidelity, are necessary. But after all, there is no situation, from the humble apple and candy stand in the street, up to that of the President of the United States, in which one who is always willing to work, to do kind offices for those around, to be prudent and rigidly faithful, can possibly fail to prosper. The world is apt to call those who thus gradually rise in their condition, lucky and fortunate. But it is only the reward which an early, untiring, earnest and honest performance of duty, will assuredly bring.-Newburyport Herald.

FORTUNE'S FROLICS.

and there was nothing but murmurs and complaints from day to day. The gold earrings and lace veils gave proof positive as to what purpose their plunder was devoted, and Mrs. Deacon believed, if there was one set of people above another that deserved condign punishment, it was the cooks of Bath. The worthy old couple were much annoyed by this long continued warfare, and the bitter complaints of the housekeeper, and they both agreed, that were it not for the cooks, Bath would be without a fault; and they were almost afraid to meet Mrs. Deacon in the morning with her list of grievances, and her schemes for bringing about reform.

At length, after a dreadful blow-up between Mrs. Deacon and Molly, the former wrought up to the highest pitch, and on the point of boiling over, come to announce to her master and mistress that another Bath cook was out of the question, and next morning she intended going off to Bristol, to see if she could find a girl there, that would suit her purpose. Leave was asked and obtained, and away drove Mrs. Deacon in the coach, and in due time was set down at the abode of an old friend of hers, the wife of a confectioner, and into her ear did Mrs. Deacon pour her many grievances. She not only sympathized with the afflicted housekeeper, but set on foot inquiries for a cleanly, good-tempered, A number of years ago, there came to re-active girl, who would do as she was desired, side in the city of Bath a worthy elderly gentleman and his wife; she was very nervous, and he was gouty. Having no children, they had begun to languish in the country; but now they had the pleasure of thinking the lady's nerves would be strengthened; and that the celebrated waters, combined with the celebrated doctors, would dislodge the gout. Leaving part of their establishment at Hillbury Lodge, they only brought with them their trusty, thrifty housekeeper, Mrs. Deacon, who had been almost from time immemorial in the family, and had the interest of her master and mistress at heart. After being comfortably settled at Bath, both the patients began to find the change of air beneficial to them, and with plenty of money, they did not want for society, Mr. Hillbury being exceedingly hospitable and fond of good living, of which the gout bore excellent testimony.

If matters went on placidly above stairs, it was more than could be said for the lower regions. "War to the knife" had been declared between Mrs. Deacon and every succeeding cook; for, in the space of a month, she had engaged and turned off three. The waste and extravagance of the Bath cooks were almost beyond belief. The pounds of butter that disappeared in a twinkling, the knots of sugar, the heads of cloves and nutmegs, were enough to drive a saint distracted,

and, at length, the wished-for person was found in Barbara, or, as she was better known by the cognomen of Baby; her station was nothing higher than that of cleaning out the market every Saturday, where the old woman with whom she boarded kept a stall. By common consent, Barbara was pronounced a good steady girl, of whom no one knew any ill-hard working, and of a most civil, obliging temper. Mrs. Deacon was as pleased as possible at the favorable account given of Baby; so that, when a fat, fair, fresh colored damsel, with blue eyes, and light auburn hair, presented herself to the housekeeper, she was perfectly satisfied. No ear-rings, no curls dangling from each side of her face, but with tresses braided, and a neat mob cap, dark gown, and snow white handkerchief and apron. An arrangement was soon made, and Mrs. Deacon left Bristol in triumph with her treasure, bidding defiance to the cooks of Bath, from this time henceforth.

Mrs. Deacon was determined to make Baby a first rate cook, and, fortunately, she had good materials to work upon; for although Barbara was at first astonished at the variety of saucepans, stewpans, pots and kettles, of every sort and dimension, yet, by dint of attention, under Mrs. Deacon's management, she never needed to be twice told the same "thing. The harmony that reigned above and