In my childhood I was particularly fond of the hoidenish amusement of jumping out of our high barn-window, and landing on the straw underneath.  The first few times I went to the edge—­then drew back—­looked again—­almost sprang—­again stepped back—­till finally I took the leap.  Thus old bachelors take the matrimonial leap—­not so widowers—­how is it to be accounted for?  Well, brother man, (for this is the nearest relationship to you that I can claim,) you do about as well in this way as in any other.  You are destined to be taken in as effectually as was Jonah, when he made that ’exploration of the interior,’ or, as was the fly, when Dame Spider’s ‘parlor’ proved to be a dining-room.

Sam Slick says that ‘man is common clay—­woman porcelain.’  Alas! there is but little genuine porcelain.  It is a pity that you couldn’t contrive to have a few jars before matrimony, to crack off some of the glazing, and show the true character of the ware.

And you, sister woman, learn a lesson from the ‘tiny nautilus,’ which, ‘by yielding, can defy the most violent ragings of the sea.’  And, though man is so nicely adapted to your management that it is obviously the end of his creation, remember Mrs. Jones’s trifling miscalculation in regard to the meerschaum, and—­’N’eveillez pas le chat qui dort.’

Abruptly yours, MOLLY O’MOLLY.

GLANCES FROM THE SENATE-GALLERY.

The comparative excellence of different periods of eloquence and statesmanship affords a subject of curious and profitable contemplation.  The action of different systems of government, encouraging or depressing intellectual effort, the birth of occasions which elicit the powers of great minds, and the peculiar characteristics of the manner of thinking and speaking in different countries, are observable in considering this topic.  A pardonable curiosity has led the writer frequently to visit the United States Senate Chamber, and to place mentally the intellectual giants of that body in contrast with their predecessors on the same scene, and with the eminent orators and statesmen of other countries and other ages; and the result of such comparisons has always been to awaken national pride, and to convince that the polity bequeathed us by our fathers, no less than the distinctive genius of the race, have practically demonstrated that a free system is the most prolific in the production of animated oratory and vigorous statesmanship.  Undoubtedly, the golden age of American eloquence must be fixed in the time of General Jackson, when Webster, Clay, Calhoun, Rives, Woodbury, and Hayne sat in the Upper House; and whatever may be our wonder, when we contemplate the brilliant orations of the British statesmen who shone toward the close of the last century, if we turn from Burke to Webster, from Pitt to Calhoun, from Fox to Clay, and from Sheridan to Randolph and to Rives, Americans can not be disappointed