the many, who think the clothes a part of the man, and can in nowise separate them, he was not honored as was Magnanimous Stout, Esq.; yet even in their clouded view he was second to him only, and some few there were who fully knew the priceless worth of a clear-headed, good-hearted man.

The man who had greatness thrust upon him; who was he? None other than the loutish son of Poundwell the blacksmith. Abiel Poundwell, a dunce in the schoolroom, and a lubber on the play-ground, attained to the age of twenty-one without having attained to wisdom enough to keep out of the fire. His eyes were of the staring kind, his features large, and his hands almost always in his pockets; he was slovenly in dress, shuffling in gait, and open-mouthed. He was easily pushed about by any one who would trouble himself to do it, and Dame Fortune, in one of her capricious moods, pushed him first into matrimony, and then into the possession of wealth. When Abiel became of age his father gave him three hundred dollars, saying, "there, you good-for-nothing fellow, take that; keep your hands in your pockets a year longer, and then go to work or go into the poorhouse." But another destiny awaited Abiel. The daughter of Abner Stetson had passed that corner in life where unmarried womanhood tarry so long; she was thirty-two. She was a smart, shrewish old maid, and her beauty was of that kind which needs a thick veil. Her step-mother, who was about the same age, determined to remove her from the shelter of the paternal roof, and to that end she sought a husband for the awaiting damsel. Mrs. Stetson fixed on Abiel Poundwell as a mar. riageable man, for it was well known that he would take

"Abiel,"

almost anything that was thrust upon him. said she, beckoning to him one day across the street, "Abiel, I wonder you don't come to see us oftener; our Abigail would be glad to see you. Now that I think of it, Abiel, why don't you get married?"

"I don't know whom to take, and I don't know who wants to take me," was the sapient reply.

'Well, well, said the Dame, come in."

Abiel went

A few

in then; often afterwards; and the maneuvering step. mother had soon the satisfaction of making what is called a match; often inappropriately enough. Abigail herself was nothing loth; Abiel, said she to herself, has, as I know, three hundred dollars; I'll take care of it and make him work; I shall be happier than I am at present, in this continual warfare with my step-mother. In less time than such matters are usually arranged (for there was no delay on either side,) Abigail Stetson became Mrs. Poundwell. On the first consultation on household affairs and ways and means, she learned with dismay that the three hundred dollars had clean passed away. days before the wedding one of those scheming adventurers, who go about seeking whom they may devour, appeared in Pebblebrook, and fastened on Abiel Poundwell, having learned that he was master of some ready cash. As this man had in an uncommon degree the faculty of speech, and Abiel had believing faculties, the three hundred dollars changed hands, and Abiel received therefor a deed of three hundred acres of land, situate he hardly knew where. This Abiel believed to be a great speculation; but his better half (the neighbors called her his better three-quarters) told him he was a fool; and, after bitter upbraidings, urged him to pull his hands out of his pockets, and go to work. She afterwards sewed up the

pockets of his trowsers, and for years those nether garnts were made for him without that common convenience. This had a salutary effect, for, when thus deprived of these warm resting places for his hands, Abiel had less aversion to labor; and soon, under the energetic government of Mrs. Poundwell, he became a more useful member of society; though he could not get money enough to defray the expenses of a journey to his unknown land. His wife, however, resolved to know if Abiel had` got anything for his money, and sent the deed of land to the Register of the County mentioned therein; who in due time returned it marked "Recorded." Years passed away, and Abiel Poundwell continued a poor and somewhat despised man; but events were in train far away, of which the secluded inhabitants of Pebblebrook little dreamed.

A stranger, who had the appearance of a business man, came by the mail-wagon to the village, and remained some days at the tavern apparently without an object. One day, however, he quietly addressed Abiel, who was at work in a potatoe field by the road-side, and, after some common-place remarks, adroitly led the conversation to speculations and wild lands; but though Abiel mentioned his "unfortunate spec," as he had learned to call it, the stranger dared not proceed further on his purpose at that time, and left him to his potatoes. Abiel informed his wife of this conversation, who, quick-witted and suspicious, gave him directions how to proceed in case the talk should be resumed. Her instructions were followed to the letter; and the stranger soon appeared in Mrs. Poundwell's presence, whom he found fully his equal in bargain-making. In short, Abiel Poundwell received ten thousand dollars for one half of his land, re

fusing to sell more. Thenceforth he was a great man in Pebblebrook; let not the reader think that he altogether failed to act well the part thus thrust upon him. A yearly journey, which he, accompanied by his wife, made to the thriving town on his land above the tide waters of the Hudson river, gave him some knowledge of things which his rustic neighbors had never seen; and the exercise of his faculties raised them to mediocrity. He even came to be considered a man of solid judgment by following one simple rule given him by his wife.

"Mr. Poundwell, don't talk much; and when your opinion is asked on any important matter shake your head, look wise as you can, and say you will think of it ; then you know we can talk the matter over in the evening." Mrs. Poundwell became discreet -so should all women be who are blest with obedient husbands and kept her guiding hand out of sight; few men suspected that there was 66 a power behind the throne greater than the throne itself." Mr. Poundwell built a large house; he dressed well and was sleek; he talked little, and he looked grave; he was church deacon and selectman; in fullness of years he died. Whoso visits the town of Pebblebrook may see in the grave-yard an imposing tombstone, on which is inscribed the name of Abiel Poundwell, Esq.; and below are recorded his many virtues, and his sterling worth. This stone was placed there by his "disconsolate widow."

Let not the great men of cities, who dwell in costly mansions, loll in splendid carriages, and fair sumptuously every day; nor those enrolled among the many Honorables of the land, who make almost interminable speeches in our Halls of Legislation; let not such smile in derision of the greatness I have depicted. Why should they?

Are not the elements of popular greatness everywhere the same, in the quiet village and in the many-voiced, lifeteeming city? Truly, popular greatness here and there differs but in degree; the same wind that wakes only a little ripple on the surface of the forest-hidden pond raises in grandeur the roaring billow of the wide ocean. The wind ceases to blow, and then where are they, the little ripple and the roaring billow?