ying to honest men, than that of the gentleman iographizing, to the high office he now holds. èss and vigilance have become proverbial; and isdeed committed by any member of this comis speedily admonished that he will "have old affectionately and familiarly termed) after him." pposed by many that he is gifted with supernatund can see things that are hid from mortal ken; ntended, is it possible that he should, as he does, e secret'st man of blood?" That he can discover rime”—that when a store has been robbed, he, ion, can march directly to the house where tho aled, and say, "These are they"-or, when a genhas been picked, that, from a crowd of unsavory an, with unerring judgment, lay his hand upon m, "You're wanted!"-or, how is it that he is strange principle of ubiquity that makes him -e, and everywhere" at the same moment? No long as the public reap the benefit; and well may strophize him in the words of the poet

ng may he live! our city's pride!

4

Where lives the rogue, but flies before him! th trusty crabstick by his side,

and staff of office waving ò'er him.

rincipally as a literary man that we would speak True, his poetry is "unwritten," as is also his has invariably expressed a decided contempt for

år för.)

ummit; the top or

a constable, or to a police-officer.

‘Ubiquity, (yu bik' wf tf), existence in all places, or every where, at

ry, pertaining to the same time.

3

philosophy, music, rhetoric, the belles-lettres,' the fine arts, and in fact all species of composition excepting bailiffs' warrants and bills of indictment: but what of that? The constitution of his mind is, even unknown to himself, decidedly poetical. And here I may be allowed to avail myself of another peculiarity of modern biög'raphy, namely, that of describing a man by what he is not. 4. Mr. Hays has not the graphic' power or antiquarian lōre of Sir Walter Scott-nor the glittering imagery or voluptuous tenderness of Moore-nor the delicacy and polish of Rogersnor the spirit of Campbell-nor the sentimentalism of Miss Landon-nor the depth and purity of thought and intimate acquaintance with nature of Bryant-nor the brilliant style and playful humor of Halleck: no, he is more in the petit larceny manner of Crabbe, with a slight touch of Byronic power and gloom. He is familiarly acquainted with all those in'teresting scenes of vice and poverty so fondly dwelt upon by that reverend chronicler of little villainy, and if ever he can be prevailed upon to publish, there will doubtless be found a remarkable similarity in their works.

5. His height is about five feet seven inches, but who makes his clothes we have as yet been unable to ascertain. His countenance is strongly marked, and forcibly brings to mind the lines of Byron when describing his Corsair

There was a laughing devil in his sneer

That raised emotions bōth of hate and fear;
And where his glance of "apprehension " fell,

Hope withering fled, and mercy sighed, farewell!

6. Yet with all his great qualities, it is to be doubted whether he is much to be envied. His situation certainly has its disadvantages. Pure and blameless as his life is, his society is not courted—no man boasts of his friendship, and few indeed like even to own him for an intimate acquaintance. Wherever he goes his slightest action is watched and criticised; and if he happen carelessly to lay his hand upon a gentleman's shoulder and whisper something in his ear, even that man, as if there

'Belles-lettres, (bel-låt' ter), polite

or elegant literature.

+ Petit larceny, (pêt' it lår' ce ni), small thefts. In England, the steal

2 Graph' ic, written; clearly and ing of any thing of the value of twelve vividly described. pence, or under that amount; and 'An` ti qua' ri an, pertaining to in the State of New York, under antiquity, or former ages. twenty-five dollars.

3

were contamination in his touch, is seldom or never seen afterward in decent society. Such things can not fail to prey upon his feelings. But when did ever greatness exist without some penalty attached to it?

7. The first time that ever Hays was pointed out to me, was one summer afternoon, when acting in his official capacity in the City Hall. The room was crowded in every part, and as he entered with a luckless wretch in his gripe, a low suppressed murmur ran through the hall, as if some superior being had alighted in the midst of them. He placed the prisoner at the bar-a poor coatlèss individual, with scarcely any edging and no roof to his hat to stand his trial for bigamy,' and then, in a loud, authoritative tone, called out for "silence," and there was silence. Again he spoke "Hats off there!" and the multitude became uncovered; after which he took his handkerchief out of his left-hand coat-pocket, wiped his face, put it back again, looked sternly around, and then sat down.

8. The scene was awful and impressive; but the cdor was disagreeable in consequence of the heat, acting upon a large quantity of animal matter congregated together. My olfactory' organs were always lăm'entably acute: I was obliged to retire, and from that time to this, I have seen nothing, though I have heard much of the subject of this brief and imperfect, but, I trust, honest and impartial memoir.

9. Health and happiness be with thec, thou prince of constables-thou guardian of innocence-thou terror of evil-doers and little boys! May thy years be many and thy sorrōws few—may thy life be like a long and cloudless summer's day, and may thy salary be increased! And when at last the summons comes from which there is no escaping-when the warrant arrives upon which no bail can be put in-when thou thyself, that hast "wanted" so many, art in turn ". wanted, and must go,"

Mayest thou fall

Into the grave as softly as the leaves

Of the sweet roses on an autumn eve,

Beneath the small sighs of the western wind,

Drop to the earth!

WILLIAM Cox.

WILLIAM COX, author of two volumes, entitled "Crayon Sketches," published

1 Big a my, the crime of having two wives or two husbands at the me time.

2 Ol făc' to ry, pertaining smelling.

'Be neath'.

to

at New York, in 1833, an Englishman by birth, came to America at an early age to practice his calling of a printer. He was employed on the "Mirror," conducted by General MORRIS, and gained a literary reputation by contributing a series of essays to its columns. These, in a happy vein of humor and criticism, satirizing the literary infirmities of the times, pleased men of taste and good sense. The above sketch, “written during an awful prevalence of biographies," gained great celebrity at the time. His "Crayon Sketches" are full of originality, pleas antry, and wit, alternately reminding the reader of the poetical eloquence of Hazlitt, and the quaint humor and eccentric tastes of Charles Lamb. After writing a number of years for the Mirror, he returned to England, where he died in 1851.

II.

16. PETER POUNCE AND PARSON ADAMS.1

PE he would convey him home in his chariot. This favor was, by Adams, with many bows and acknowledgments, accepted, though he afterward said he ascended the chariot rather that he might not offend, than from any desire of riding in it, for that in his heart he preferred the pedestrian even to the vehicular expedition. The chariot had not proceeded far, before Mr. Adams observed it was a very fine day. "Ay,' and a very fine country, too," answered Pounce.

ETER POUNCE, being desirous of having some one to whom he might communicate his grandeur, told the parson

2. "I should think so more," returned Adams, "if I had not lately traveled over the Downs, which I take to exceed this, and all other prospects in the universe." "A fig for prospects," answered Pounce; 66 one acre here is worth ten there for my part, I have no delight in the prospect of any land but my own.'

دو

3. "Sir," said Adams," "you can indulge yourself in many fine prospects of that kind." "I thank God I have a little,” replied the other, "with which I am content, and envy no man. I have a little, Mr. Adams, with which I do as much good as I can."

4. Adams answered, "that riches, without charity, were nothing worth; for that they were a blessing only to him who made them a blessing to others." "You and I," said Peter,

1

In the following conversation, which is one of the most exquisite in all novel-writing, the reader experiences a delightful triumph in seeing how a vulgar upstart is led to betray his baseness while he thinks he is most exalting himself; the poor, but

virtuous and manly parson, on the other hand, rising and becoming glorious out of the depths of his hum ble honesty. This and the following two lessons are admirable exercises in Personation-see p. 69.

2 Ay, (ål), yea; yes.

"have different notions of charity. I own, as it is generally used, I do not like the word, nor do I think it becomes one of us gentlemen; it is a mean, parson-like quality; though I would not infer that many parsons have it neither."

5. "Sir," said Adams, "my definition of charity is, a generous disposition to relieve the distressed." "There is something in that definition," answered Peter, "which I like well enough; it is, as you say, a disposition-and does not so much consist in the act as in the disposition to do it: but, alas! Mr. Adams, who are meant by the distressed? believe me, the distresses of mankind are mostly imaginary, and it would be rather folly than goodness to relieve them."

6. "Sure,' sir," replied Adams, "hunger and thirst, cold and nakedness, and other distresses which attend the poor, can never be said to be imaginary evils." 'How can any man complain of hunger," said Pounce, "in a country where such excellent salads are to be gathered in almost every field?—or of thirst, where every stream and river produce such delicious potations? --and as for cold and nakedness, they are evils introduced by luxury and custom. A man naturally wants clothes no more than a horse or any other animal; and there are whole nations who go without them. But these are things, perhaps, which you, who do not know the world—”

7. "You will pardon me, sir," returned Adams; "I have read of the Gymnos'ophists." "A plague of your Jehosaphats," cried Peter; "the greatest fault in our constitution is the provision made for the poor, except that perhaps made for some others. Sir, I have not an estate which doth not contribute almost as much again to the poor as to the land-tax; and I do assure you I expect myself to come to the parish in the end."

8. To which Adams giving a dissenting smile, Peter thus proceeded :-"I fancy, Mr. Adams, you are one of those who imagine I am a lump of money; for there are many who I fancy believe that not only my pockets, but my whole clothes are lined with bank bills; but, I assure you, you are all mistaken: I am

1 Sure, (shor), see Rule 4, p. 32. 2 Gým nos o phists, philosophers of India, so called because they went with bare feet and little clothing. They never drank wine, nor married.

Some of them practiced medicine. They believed in the transmigration of souls, and placed the chief happiness of man in the contempt of pleasures of sense and goods of fortune.