regular succession, through trade, law, and physic, he concluded-ha! ha! ha!-by mounting me plump into the pulpit. Only think of me, Andrew, with my black gown and long face, dealing out morality to my dearly beloved brethren!" " "And you refused, of course, and will want the dress you bespoke?" inquired the costumer. "To be sure I will, and this very week. I've got my part, and rehearsed it. I am determined to get through with it, and, if I am successful, I'll declare my resolution to continue on the stage-come out under my real name; and, though they may say I am a fool,' they shall not say but that I had the crown;' they shall not say that I was fool in that.' 999 "Bravo! bravo! You shall have the dress to night. I'll leave it in the theatre. You can try it on, and then "And then," interrupted the young aspirant, in a theatrical voice and attitude, "we shall be king indeed, my cousin 999 "Oh, you'll take, to a dead certainty," exclaimed the costumer. "So don't be discouraged." 66 Oh, no; 'I'll climb betimes, without remorse or dread, and my first step shall be' But come, I must to dinner, and don't forget the dress." So saying, they parted. The costumer hied him to his shears and needle, chuckling over the profitable bargain he had just concluded, and the thoughtless and disobedient son, smoothed his face into its usual expression, and went to join his unsuspecting family. A few days after this conversation, while having finished dinner, they sat picking nuts, and partaking moderately of some excellent old wine, the different members of Mr. Lewis's family were struck with various feelings by the information that he had taken seats at the theatre. He was a liberal man, and a most affectionate father, and he intended thus to surprise his children, whose lively taste for theatrical entertainments had not yet been sated by frequent attendance. By one of those caprices which fortune loves to play in the affairs of mortals, this was the very night which had been selected for the debut of a young gentleman, who, as the papers announced, "had never before appeared on any stage." Mrs. Lewis expressed herself willing to go; Miss Maria was delighted at the thoughts of watching the difference between the performance of this young gentleman and Mr. Cooper, who had lately left the city; Caroline and Eliza, the two young ones, sprang up in raptures, overturned their wine, kissed each other and their father; and little Bob, in his triumph, trod upon the foot of pussy, who was napping it quietly under the table. Poor Charles was thunderstruck; but, amid the confusion of the scene, the noise of the children, and the angry squall of the cat, the terror depicted in his countenance was happily unnoticed. father had not been to the theatre before for a year. He cursed his fate, which seemed determined to torment him, and, in the end, conceived the suspicion that Mr. Lewis had discovered his design, and took this method to defeat it. He ventured a timid glance at his face, but it was calm and smiling, and his utmost penetration could detect nothing more than the gratification of the amiable father, who surveyed the group of his beautiful and happy children. His His next hope was that some obstacle might occur. Perhaps it might rain. He got up and went to the window; but the azure sky, which he had once eulogized so warmly, stretched its broad and lucid expanse over the city, in most provoking tranquillity. There was no use in grieving. Perhaps, after all, it was the best thing that could happen. When his father should witness his success, and listen to the applause which every word must bring down, he might be more easily inclined to mercy; and, in short, he resolved to say nothing about his dilemma, but to appear, and go through with his part in his best manner. A little calmed by these reflections, he turned on his heel and left the room. The hour arrived. The doors of the theatre were flung open. The company assembled, and—as it was a pleasant evening-in considerable numbers. The green curtain rose; and, at length, the crooked backed tyrant stalked into full view, and remained, for a moment, like a traveller driven by some fatal necessity to the brink of a precipice, where he stands trembling, unable to retreat, and afraid to advance. His figure, however, was tolerable, his face fine, and the good natured audience, taking pity on his pardonable diffidence, greeted him with three rounds of applause. Mr. Lewis started with the exclamation, "It is, it is Charles!" Mrs. Lewis cried, "Gracious heavens, my son!" and nearly fainted; while the expressions of astonishment from his sisters were unnoticed only on account of the noise which filled the house. The tide, however, soon changed. It was immediately discovered that "the young gentleman" had overrated his powers. His readings were bad, his attitudes awkward, and his gestures abominable. He ranted and strutted through two or three acts, without any repetition of the applause which had encouraged him on his first appearance, until the tent scene, when his wig fell off, and, in his confusion, crying, "Give me another horse-bind up my wounds," he threw his sword with great rapidity against the big fiddle in the orchestra, to the imminent danger of the leader's nose. This grand and original flourish drew down the laughter and acclamations of all the spectators, except the unfortunate violin-player, who was seriously occupied in feeling if the handle of his face had really escaped unhurt from this sudden and unexpected encounter. The universal hiss that succeeded, insinuated to the managers the public opinion, and the green curtain fell, to the infinite disappointment of Richmond, who stood at the wing, arrayed in complete armor of Allen's patent silver leather, and who thus saw his victim escape his just revenge. Charles went home, looking mortified sadly. His father said nothing, for he perceived that reproaches could not add to the salutary lesson which his son had received. Perhaps, in his heart, he was not sorry; and the next morning, at breakfast, King Richard patiently listened to a proposition to enter a counting house, where he is at this time, "trimming lamps and getting the letters out of the post office." RESOLUTION. Blest tears of soul felt penitence! Of guiltless joy that guilt can know.-Moore. GEORGE STANLY, in his youth, had been one of the most promising young men of whom society could boast. He was equally admirable in person, disposition, and the qualities of his highly cultivated mind. Every one looked forward with confidence to his future eminence; and no greater misfortune entered the imagination of any one concerning him, than that death might snatch him from his career of glory, or disease render him incapable of prosecuting his duties. But there are miseries worse than death; and it is as impossible to foretell, with certainty, the character or destiny of any, from the mirth and genius of boyhood, as to know, from the serenity of the morning sky, whether, before night, its blue bosom will be stained with clouds, or shaken with tempests. Stanly, like all others of his temperament, no sooner emerged from the restrictions of his school, and mingled with the various inhabitants of his native city, than his heart owned the influence of female beauty, and he married a lovely girl, who lived only in the hope of making him happy. A few years glided away prosperously. Two fine boys engaged his warmest af fection and most zealous care, and promised to be his own comfort, as well as ornaments of society. In the midst of his success, he was introduced into a circle of friends, whose light and agreeable conversation caught his taste, and inspired him with the wish to enjoy their familiar friendship. I have found occasion to remark, that the very best are liable to be led away from right and reason by the force of example. We may talk of independence as much as we please, and amuse ourselves with contemplating the prudence with which we adopt opinions, and the energy with which we execute designs; yet we are all, in some measure, warped by early impressions which deepen into prejudices, or are guided in our daily character and plans by circumstances acting upon us, or examples by which we are surrounded; even as a leaf, floating down a stream, falls into its eddies and pursues the windings of the current. Our ideas of things, therefore, depend upon education, and the manner in which subjects are presented to our reason, and our imagination. An object will offer to one an appearance entirely unlike what another receives from it, and men of the warmest hearts and firmest principles are liable to lose their way in the complicated and deceitful labyrinths of human life, and to wander far from their former direction, without believing that their course has been changed. When I meet a man, therefore, abandoning himself to erroneous speculations, and smothering in his breast the sparks with which wearied nature vainly endeavors to light him to his duty, I do not yield myself to emotions of hatred or contempt, but look upon him with pity, as on a fair house wrapped in flames, or a noble ship going down in a whirlpool. Stanly frequented the houses of his friends, and his fine manners and generous character caused him to be considered an acquisition. The commencement of his career is but the hacknied story told by the pale cheeks and melancholy eyes of many a woman, who, a few years before, had been glad in the warmth and confidence of her untried affections. His house was a strange and irksome place to him; and it seemed, that, while he lavished all his mirth and health upon strangers, he remembered his own sad and neglected home only when sickness and disappointment had unfitted him for every other place. His wife, once the fondest idol of his love, and his children, around whom he had often said all the chords of his affections were entwined, now passed by him with cold and unnoticed faces, enduring, without enjoying his forced and transitory merriment, or terrified at the scowls which distorted his brow. Among the accomplishments to which this late course of life directly led, was gambling. He entered upon the practice, without considering whither it would conduct him. Men, in his situation, for active and salutary rea |