We can not better conclude this paper, while the volumes of Mr. Seward’s works are open on the table, than by quoting still again, and asking the reader to apply his own remarks on Secretary of State Webster in the fisheries-war speech, before alluded to:  ’I shall enter into no encomium on the Secretary of State; he needs none.  I should be incompetent to grasp so great a theme, if it were needed.  The Secretary of State!  There he is!  Behold him, and judge for yourselves.  There is his history; there are his ideas; his thoughts spread over every page of your annals for near half a century. There are his ideas, his thoughts impressed upon and inseparable from the mind of his country and the spirit of the age.  The past is at least secure.  The past is enough of itself to guarantee a future of fame unapproachable and inextinguishable.’

* * * * *

TO ENGLAND.

  The Yankee chain you’d gladly split,
  And yet begin by heating it! 
  But when the iron is all aglow,
  ’Twill closer blend at every blow. 
  Learn wisdom from a warning word,
  Beat not the chain into a sword.

* * * * *

THE HEIR OF ROSETON.

CHAPTER 1.

Qui curios simulant, et Bacchanalia vivunt.  JUV.

Odi Persicos apparatus.  HOR.

Indulge Genio:  carpamus dulcia.  PERS.

Roseton awoke.  A silver clock upon the mantle, so constructed as to represent Guido’s ‘Hours,’ had just struck the hour of eight, accompanying the signal with the festal la ci darem of Don Giovanni.  This was Roseton’s invariable hour of waking, no matter what might be the season, or what might have been his time of retiring.  Slightly stirring upon the couch, the night drapery became relaxed, and from his sleeve of Mechlin lace appeared a hand and wrist of unspeakable delicacy, yet of iron strength.  Another slight movement, and one saw the upper portions of the form of the late slumberer; ’a graceful composition in one of Nature’s happiest moments.’  It was indeed difficult properly to estimate either the beauty of his proportions or their amazing strength.  The most celebrated sculptors of Europe had made pilgrimages across the sea to refresh their perceptions by gazing upon a figure which, even in the unclassic habiliments of modern dress, caused the Apollo to resemble a plowboy; and the athletes of both hemispheres had, singly, and in pairs, and even in triplets, measured their powers vainly against his unaided arms.  To keep ten fifty-sixes in the air for an hour at a time was to him the merest trifle; but the ennui of such diversions had long since crept upon him, and only on occasions of the extremest urgency did he exercise any other faculties than those of the will.  In compliance with an effort of the latter nature, his favorite servant now entered the apartment.  The