ceived that no other noise from his friend's house answered his appeal. He wiped his forehead several times, struck with his cane upon the steps, rang again, and then peeped through two narrow gratings on either side of the door; nothing was to be seen but the pendulum of a large clock, the Dr's slate,* and a blue cotton umbrella. He then tried to look through the lace window curtains of the side rooms, a difficult task, as the fringes of the over-curtains intercepted his view. However, he saw distinctly in one room an inkstand with two long pens, and in the other, the portrait. of a man. But neither the clock, nor the slate, nor the inkstand, nor the portrait, could open the door to Mr. Bruis. Hotter and hotter grew Mr. Bruis; his overcoat weighed down his arm; he rang for the fourth time, and so violently, that the young lady next door, who had long perceived, by means of her "spy," the perplexity of the fat gentleman, started in her chair, unpinned her work from her knee, opened the blind, and informed Mr. Bruis that no one was at home. "Not the Doctor?" "Nor madame?" 66 No sir; I tell you they are all gone out." "And where have they gone?" "I don't know sir. They are all gone except the servant girl, who is the only one at the house." 66 cipitately closed the blind, because her white cat was just preparing to jump out and she left Mr. Bruis, free to reflect if he chose, upon the difference between the terms, at the house and in the house. If he had had patience and discrimination enough, he might have understood that to stay at the house was a duty imposed upon the maid by the Deluw family, but which, according to her personal interpretation did not include the very secondary obligation of staying in the house. A voice now issued from a cobler's stall on the other side, and threw a little light upon the difficulty. "They have gone to the garden and the servant has gone out on an errand. There she is coming back, already." The word, already, might in Mr. Bruis' opinion, have been altogether omitted from this phrase, but, he did now see a prettyish young girl approaching up the street, as fast as she could, without running; she held a huge door-key, rushed past Mr. Bruis, opened the door with amazing celerity, and planted herself on the mat facing the visitor. "You wished to speak to master?" asked the girl. 66 Yes; but it seems he is not at home?" "No, sir; the Dr., madame, the young lady, the young gentleman, and the children, are in the country, and I am left to keep the house and answer inquiries." The opportunity was a good one for Mr. Bruis to lecture the servant Why don't the servant open the for a quarter of an hour on the door?" "Because she isn't there?" "And yet you say that she is at the house?" "Yes, but that don't prevent that she isn't in the house!" replied the young lady, upon which she pre exactness with which she acquitted herself of this duty, by gossiping with a fruiterers' daughter, who went out sewing by the day, and was installed at a neighbouring open window. But he was too much hurried now to make sermons. *On this slate are inscribed the visits to be made. "Where is the country?" he of the customs, and for that purasked. "Far from here? Where is it ?" "In Joris' avenue," said the ser vant. pose he entered the office, devoted to their use, but found no one. There was a person in a grey paletot, fishing, on the other side of the "Moris' avenue!" repeated Mr. canal, and who looked like a clerk; Bruis, with extreme disdain. What Mr. Bruis dropped his valise and do I know about Moris' avenue?" overcoat and addressed him. It The prettyish maid was of the was a clerk, and Mr. Bruis further opinion that in Mr. Bruis' attitude desired to be directed to Joris' and tone, there was less considera- avenue. Not that I would be so tion than her face merited. She unjust as to accuse our fat friend of was justly offended. forgetting Gretchen's instructions, but his exasperation had not permitted him to listen very attentively. "If you don't know where it is, I can't help it," she said dryly, and she turned the lock as if anxious to be rid of Mr. Bruis. ་ He changed his tone. "Look here, my child, I have come by the stage coach expressly to see the Dr. and his family. If it is not too far, I should like to go and find them in the country. Can't you point out the road to me?" And quite breathless, he looked up and down the street to see if he could not discover another youthful guide, but there was not a creature. The maid condescended to furnish some instructions, and Mr. Bruis set off. When he had gone a little way, he suddenly remembered his valise and his overcoat; he returned, and rang again to put them in the care of the servant, but Gretchen had evidently rejoined her friend, so Mr. Bruis found himself obliged to continue his journey, thus laden, but inwardly resolved, that if he ever reached Dr. Deluw, he would lodge a formal complaint against that girl. Happily for the worthy man, the city which I have not yet named, is by no means large, and he soon reached the gate through which he was to pass, although the ascent and the descent of two wonderfully high bridges completely took away his breath. The bright idea struck him to deposit his luggage with some clerk The clerk told him that he must at a certain distance, cross the canal, then follow a lane, then turn to the right till he reached a white post, then to the left, after that to the right again, when he would find himself in Joris' avenue. "And Dr. Deluw's house?" "I never heard of it," said the clerk, "but there are plenty of gardens about there. What is it called?" "Veldzicht." "Veldzicht!" repeated the clerk, who wished Mr. Bruis to depart, because he thought he felt a nibble, "no, sir, I never heard of it." Mr. Bruis resumed his travels. The canal was a comparative comfort, for it was bordered on each side with large trees; but this happiness was of short duration, because the city in a fit of economy, or in a moment of penury, had cut down the larger portion of these trees, on the occasion of an illumination for the king's birthday, and they were now replaced, (under the name of "a young plantation,") by a row of slender saplings quite dried-up and withered. Presently, Mr. Bruis again grew uneasy-which way must he go? He perceived between two black palings a narrow lane, which he thought he must follow. This lane was deserted. There was nothing visible but the palings, above which were the tree tops-nothing but garden gates with numbers and inscriptions. A single sparrow hopped about, wearily. Mr. Bruis walked along as he had done in the streets-his hat in one hand, his stick and handkerchief in the other; only, he carried himself a little obliquely, as if anxious to obey as soon as possible the clerk's directions, to turn to the right. But the opportunity to do this did not present itself; our traveler was brought to a halt by coming upon a large pool of water, flanked by a dust heap, enamelled with cabbage stalks, salad leaves, broken crockery, and faded bouquets, on which mushroons had sprung up, and now filled the air with a nauseating smell. Mr. Bruis decided that he had lost his way, and with a groan retraced his steps, reached the canal again, followed its course, and found a second lane, but this time he thought fit to explore a little before involving himself. The result was satisfactory; he perceived a turning to the right, at no great distance-walked to it-made out the white post-then took to the left and then to the right, and at last judged, by all appearances, that he had finally reached Moris' avenue. At a garden gate was a small boy dressed in a black petticoat, with a black cap, trimmed with black lace; his face was as black as his costume, and he was amusing himself with an old pumpkin and some potato peelings. "Is this Moris' avenue, my dear child?" asked Mr. Bruis. The child nodded. "Andwhere is Veldzicht ?" Mr. Bruis grew angry, not so much against the child, but against this unfindable and mysterious Veldzicht. "Don't you know?" he enquired, raising his voice. The interesting infant let fall his pumpkin and potato skins, and fled howling into the garden. Mr. Bruis fetched a deep sigh. Joris' avenue seemed very long, and the garden gates numerous. He read upon them all sorts of names-pretentious and high-sounding names, such as: Schoonord, Welgelegen, Bloemenhof, Vrengderyk,(*); names indicating repose and contentment, such as: Myngenregen, Welteneden, Buitenrest, (f); innocent names such as: Nooit Gedecht, Klem maer Rein, Hierna Beter, (†); and optical names, such as; Vaartzicht, Weizicht, Landzicht, Veezicht, and Veelzicht, (||). This latter closely resembled Veldzicht, (§) but it was not the same. At last, Mr. Bruis found two gates, on which were only Q. 4, No. 33, and Q. 4, No. 34. One of these might be Veldzicht. Exasperated and impatient as he was, Mr. Bruis was, nevertheless, modest. passed by the first, which was the larger and finer place, and knocked at No. 34. He The door slowly opened, and there stood on the threshold, a long, majestic lady, stiff as a statue, in a black gown, with a white merino cape, her head covered with a bonnet tilted over her nose on account of the sun, green spectacles, a slight moustache, and a book in her band. The mania for this sort of name is general in Holland; these literally signify. fine site, well situated, garden of flowers, rich in pleasure. (†) My pleasure, well-satisfied, rustic repose. (1) Never thought of, Little but sweet, It is better here. () View of the canal, View of the meadows, View of the fields, Cattle view, Wide view. (2) View of the country. 7. "Is this Veldzicht, madam?" asked stranger, and immediately concludBruis. ing that he had come to steal, "Next door," and she slammed her own portal in his face. Why did not he see that it was not a matron! "No, sir!" replied the young lady, alarmed at the sight of a Mr. Bruis knocked at Q. 4 No. 33. (To be Continued.) LINES. I hear them say thou art not fair, Wherein thy thoughts habitual move That delicate grace. Thou wilt not seem Is undisturbed by worldly sound, Nor passion dark, nor discontent Thy life a whitened halo shines As when the vanished sun hath thrown Enough; they may talk as they will But her eyes are superb! So calmly they curb All speech, and so haughtily still The pulses they thrill. A SHORT SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF GOV. RICHARD IRVINE MANNING, READ BEFORE THE SOUTH CAROLINA HISTORICAL SOCIETY, AND, BY THEIR PERMISSION, INSERTED IN RUSSELL'S MAGAZINE. In the usefulness which distinguished men have exercised on society, it is very questionable whether character, or the more shining quality, which the world calls talent, has the greater influence. They are, perhaps, more intimately connected than we imagine. They are, certainly, often mistaken for each other; and men have, undoubtedly, sometimes failed of the eclat which the world bestows upon genius, from the fact that their great deeds have been attributed to their great virtues. To our conception, usefulness and talent are, in a philosophical sense, synonymous; or, rather, they are phenomena of the same moral or intellectual organization by which the great, the good, the virtuous, and the valiant, (as well as the gifted and the talented) have, in all time, wielded an influence over the destinies of their fellow-men. lightenment, such as none but the highest intellectual faculties can attain to. To impress himself on the confidence of men; to be trusted as well as admired; to be able to make just discrimination between right and wrong, error and truth; and to preserve consistency in his pursuit of rectitude and virtue, a man must be aided by a quick perception; he must be directed by a sound judgment; he must be sustained by a strong will; he must reason, reflect, and compare; in short, he must possess and employ every useful faculty. Now, the possession of these certainly constitutes what is usually regarded as a fine intellect; and is no less essential, as we have shown, to make up what is termed a high character. In contemplating such men as Washington, Jackson, or the Duke of Wellington, we are apt, it is true, to look exclusively to their virtues In historical experience, we think, or their heroism-to the influence they may generally be found in such of their characters, rather than that harmony of combination, that the of their minds, for the distingreatest public benefactors have, at guished part they have performed the same time, been the most en- in the world's drama of events. But, dowed, as well as the most useful is it to be supposed that the inimitand benevolent, of their age. Splen- able achievements of either of these did abilities of a certain descrip- greatest of men, were not the retion are sometimes seen, it is true, sults of a forethought, wiser, perin connection with infamous vices, haps, than those of their day and but seldom of a kind, or in harmo- generation, and of which no other ny with usefulness; and never with- living men were probably capable? out some corresponding intellectual, Must they not have possessed that as well as moral, inequality or de- highest of all intellectual gifts: fect. On the other hand, it is in- the power of investigating truth, dispensable to all our conceptions and arriving at correct conclusions, of an elevated character, to pre--in an infinitely higher degree than suppose a state of high moral en- the Bulwers, or the Byrons, or any |