and kind feeling of his old friend, the pro- I prietor of the Londoner Hof. Hewasanxi- ( ou>ly waiting for his correspondent's 1 reply, and for his permission to send the I true--, as he could not; sleep a night so < long us the article remained in Spain ( Such was ihe purport of the letter which j the rejected suitor —having, to Mr, Cas- c pp.r'sii'itensearaazanieutand hotindignaton, \ cool, ;30c!ceted the interesting document s i, :.; -I; .1 briefly 1o that gentleman, then i calmly proceeded to inform his intended $ fatly.u1 i.i-law diat he had beeu so deeply i • sod hv the latter's lecture upon i vroi'kUy wisdom that he meant to profit at \ once, n.ad i••> the fullest extern., by the wise i mi.dai'! enunciated by M.v. Caspar, and 1 ]j S . -r.-a therefore that they should join in ( the afiYa' to which the letter referred, r upon Mi'» principle of share and share i aiiL'C and mine host's consent to the t IXK: V !'j ■'• ■.-. 0 !'._ The c :.o) ness o" this, well-nigh took away c Hr. Caspar's breath. f ' And suppose, sir,' he shouted at last v in a towering vasre, ' suppose, sir, I decline f being swindled in this infamous manner, c and elect to hand you over to the custody s of the police upon the charge of stealing a c letter belonging to me, what will you do they, sir ? Heh ?' c 'In that case —which is not very likely f to happen, however —I simply shall, with E due regard to the fact that the German ] empire is at present at peace and amity ,£ with the actual Government of Spain, i deem if; my patriotic duty to place the s conteni s of the letter before the police, and c trust; for my reward to the gratitude of t thePpauian Government ' t 'You cinnot mean it, sir,' gasped poor c Sir. Caspar, in a state of truly pitiable I perturbation. ' You, the son of an ' lionorabio lather, surely could never be c guiit-y of such incredible baseness?' ' 'Zoo. jast try me, my dear Mr. Caspar ; c that's all". Baseness, isdeed ! Why didn't t you tell nir* that yon had a poor opinion of i the ro.au who would let slip a chance to c j m - i;n . o y e his position, because, forsooth, ( some foolish crochet of honor might stand i in the way ? Yon shall not have a poor c opinion of me, depend en it. I thank you ( for the lesson, and, please the pigs, 1 shall i try to better the instruction. I love your daughter more dearly than life, and 1 will I believe iv. your old experience that a corn- i Wsble income is indispensable to hsppi- ( ness in married life. Well, 150.000 ] "•■ r-.cs. nvj share, will make Louise and . *,"," n ]| gnug, and there will still remain i the same sum for you. You see it has ! beon sbo^vn w you now that knowledge may, after all, be worth a good round tangible sum. Why, in the present instance, twice 6000 ducats for even only one of my six languages.' M.V. Caspar sat several minutes staring io "utter bewilderment at the calm, radiant face of th? young man. He wn? slowly ra^lizinf the real state and position of affsiirs, and the conviction uncomfortably dawned upon him vhat he was truly at the ether's mercy in the matter. So, like a ■sensible i^an "'' th(' wor*c'- ne agret!dto the r>ropos"ed terms, and the young lover and iis'darling Louise enjoyed a lew weeks of supreme happiness. But we must not an ticipate. „ . . T Th? Spanish letter wasfsigned Juan fiouraid y Salvatierra.' Upon searcii- j a ~r,-~t]io books of the hotel it was found j tnr\c a "senator G. Salvatierra had been SLf , v ; Ti , r there some five years before, and 1- ' !■,,/e:l in grand seigneur at the time. r£Ue writer of the letter was evidently this . eontloman, who had clearly enjoyed the friendship of the late Mr. Caspar, now | a bom six' months deceased, bo a reply ra- dispatched there and then, promising the"strictest compliance with the unhappy tri-oner's demand. * v * ad-ard Keimling, the young man who liac! so eagerly and successfully mastered the 'e3son'in 'worldly wisdom taught him by mine bost of the Londoner Hof, was ili" son of a wealthy citizen of Zcugstadt, v^o having imprudently engaged his credit to a heavy amount for a dishonest friend, had honorably preferred rum pa colorable repudiation of the habmty incurred by him- He had died short[J after of a broken heart. He and the boniface of the Londoner Hof had been intimate friends, and it had been agreed between them that young Edward Keiml ;, irT £ i, ioU j f \ marry Louise Caspar. We have seen how Mr. Caspar had, after the ruin and death of Edward's father, re pudiaied this agreement, now once more restored to force and validity by young Beimling's remarkable aptitude in learning practical lessons out of Mr. Caspar's own book of worldly wisdom. No answer was received for some time, and Messrs. Caspar and Keimling were be~mniDgto dread lesfc the secret should have been betrayed, or Don Juan should have changed his mind, when suddenly there came another large letter, with another heavy -onstage on it. The letter contained a railway receipt of a trunk v ,.,-; r ,-] l ] i ,,, about, 100 weight—declared to contain personal effects, directed, carriage paid, to the proprietor of the Londoner )t'in Zeurfstadt— and two small keys. in'the letter Juan de Gouraidy Salvatierra instructed Mr. Caspar to open the box, remove the double bottom, and take out the £123,000 in bank notes, together with several parcels of paper carefully tied up; £12,000 of this money Mr. Caspar v* told to take fur himself, *nd he was specially entreated not to let false delicacy Eland in the w«y of compliance vrilh ihis injnniitioa. He was aiso rt-quested, t) A as soon as possible after the arrival ot . lie trunk in Zeugstadt, £2000, in Bank cf England or Bank of Fiance notes, to a certain address in Cartagena given in the

letter This money was to enable the prisoner to discharge some debts incurred by him, to reward the people who had been kind to him, and to bribe, if possible, his <vay out of the gates of the castle of C;rtairena. For the first time for months past, Don Juan gratefully stated, he could once more sleep in peace, for ho felt con vinced that his and his party's money was safe at last. Mr. Caspar was, in fact, the angel of his salvation. He requested that gentleman to make out a list of the notes remaining, and to deposit them in a re putable bank or other safe place, with the precautionary provision to insure the return of the money to the hand of its legitimate owners in tke event of Mr. Caspar's untimely death, which Don Juan most fervently prayed the Almighty would, in His infinite mercy, forfend. He trusted that Mr. Caspar, as a gentleman of high honor, would religiously abstain from opening any of the parcels of paper. Ho felt sure that a German gentleman would not condescend to spy into private papers intrusted to his safe-keeping by the confidence of honorable men. The notes sent to Spain had better be s.mall notes, carefully packed up and registered. ' Amigo mio,' said Don Juan, at the end of his letter, ' vos no poders figuraros la grande alegria que hoy siente mi eorazon al ver fuera de paligro este coffi'e. .La Providencia siempre vele por los dis graci.ados,' (Mj friend. you cannot imagine how much my heart rejoiced in seeing this trunk out of danger. Provi dence alwi^s watches over the unfor tunate.) The exuberant joy with which this most welcome letter filled the hearts of mine host and intended son-in-law may be more easily imagined than described. Such an extraordinary windfall rarely comes toman. Old Caspar enjoyed already a foretaste in his mina of the ecstatic delight of clutching his £6000; and if there was a gloomy corner left in his heart which the beaming rays of pleasure and contentment failed to reach, he found consolation in the thought that his partner in the affair, who had. to uso his own terso expression, bested him, wa=? to marry his daughter; thus, after all. keeping the whole of the money in the family.

So he made up his mind to cheerfully take his part, and he cordial!}' invited his intended son-in-law to crack a few bottles of choice wines with him in gleeful antici pation of the crowning event. But young Edward Reimling, suspiciously watching the doubtful glances cast occasionally upon him by the old man. got so afraid that Boniface mic-lit be tempted to try a ' vint ner's dodge' to remove him out of his way, that he steadfastly declined the hospitable invitation.

Next morning he was suddenly sent for to the hotel. Another letter had arrived, which informed Mr. Caspar of an unex pected blow and sad discouragement, threatening positive destruction if it could not be averted. A letter inclosed assailed the- poor General in the vilest terms as an intending swindler and thief. The writer called the General's attention to the fiefc that he had incurred a debt of 1755 pesetas for food, etc., supplied him in prison by the writer, who had held no other security than the trunk. The General had basely taken advantage of the temporary absence of the writer from Cartagena to get the trunk away to the railway station. He had, through \\\i agent, bamboozled Jhi3 wife, a poor trusting woman, Fo/tunately he (the writer, had just returned in time to get wind of the matter, and he had stopped the depart ure of the trunk. He had obtained the • Gere's order (inclosed) to sell the trunk and Us contents if not properly redeemed out of his hands within a fortnight from that date. After this surreptitious attempt to swindle the trunk out of his possession, he would trust in no promise of the Genearl's. No, no ! lie must have, his money, or he would sell, as the ' Gefe' had given him the legal right to do. So the General knew now what he had to expect. Poor Dun Juan wrote in sore tribulation that ho was endeavoring to raise the funds required, but that he was sadly afraid he should not succeed m time. There was but one way to make sure of the removal of all difficulties- If Mr. Caspar would, under the extraordinary and unexpected circumstances which had so unfortunately arisen now, remit at once the sum of i 785 francs, the trunk might be on its road to Germany in about five days from the receipt of the present letter. He would not urge the matter much, however, as he felt the natural reluctance of a caballero to ask even so slight a service of a comparative stranger. Only the immense interests at stake, more especially with regard to the unfortunate o-entlemen who would be compromised by the discovery of the papers, had had power to induce him to send off this letter. Well Mr. Caspar made a very long face at first. But then the whole affair looked so simple and straightforward, and the railway receipt of the trunk, and the Judge's order in reference to it, looked so substantially convincing, that mine host, after deep pondering, decided to purchase two thousand-franc notes and send them Off Tae fca°days after, the trunk really did arrive, which at once removed all the slight qualms Mr. Caspar was beginning to feel. The trunk was claimed at the station and brought to the hotel. Mine host, his daughter Louise and her betroth ed gathered around it m a carefully locked private room. , The trunk, a rather ancient-looking affair, was opened with the keys that had been sent from Cartagena, lhe disap pointed gaze of the three beholders rested

with foreboding fear on a heterogeneous confused heap of old clothes of the most uninviting aspect. There were coats and shirts without sleeves and full of holes ; coats and shirt-sleeves with the very poorest apologies for bodies to them ; boots and shoes represented by bodies without soles, by soles without bodies to them ; trousers lacking the most fundamental requisite for decent wearing ; ghosts of ancient shirt-collars and dilapidated, crown less liats.

Such was the wardrobe of Don Juan de Gorriad y Salvatierra. Young Edward iieimling passionately tore and tossed this B^eot collection out of the trim* to get at the false bottom. Alas, it turned out a very false bottom indeed ! Whatever it might have contained at some period or other of its existence at present it showed only the most distressing emptiness. Even sawing tha planks a-^sunder, and splitting the wood up in the smallest bits failed to bring forth the ' £158,000 in Bank of Spain, and Bank of France notes.'

Flic tableau round the broken trunk may be more easily imagined than des cribed. Tho old man was raging ; Edward Keiruling was considerably crestfallen and looked very gloomy ; and the young girl, who had a lively sense of the humor ous, was shrieking with laughter, to the intcusest indignation of her father and the deep annoyanco of her lover. A.fier a time, when Mr. Caspar had cooled down a little, that estimable old gentleman 'begged' to inform Mr. Reimling that the contemplated match must, of course, be considered off again now. Miss Louise, however, could and would not see it at all in that light. She declared her firm resolution to marry her lover, even though her father should send her off without a penny. The young man who, with the buoyancy of youth, soon recovered his spirits, ventured to remind Mi1- Caspar how he had told him that if ever he was caught napping he would give him (Edward,) leave to woo his daughter. And the old man, fearful of losing his long-established reputation for prudence and sharpness, and awfully afraid of having tho laugh against him, was at last prevailed on to give his reluctant consent. So that, after all, young Reimling and his loving and beloved bride raised upon the foundation of one of the veriest castles in the air a substantial superstructure of happiness.

Character of Cobbett.

IN the year 1820, Cobbett made an attempt to get into Parliament for Coventry, but without success. In 182G, he made a similar unsuccessful attempt to represent Preston. These attempts considerably reduced his means ; and a debtors prison seemed imminent. Cobbett however, by dint of bard work, and the profits of his 'llegister' overcame all obstacles. In 1831, the government made a final attempt to silence him, but without effect. No jury could bo found to convict him on the charge of inciting the peasantry, through his 'Register,' to acts of evolt and incen diarism. In 1833, the period oflord John Kusseli s Reform Bill, Cobbett reached the height of his ambition; he was elected member of Parliament for the Borough of Oldham, but it was too late, the old man had nearly finished his world work. He disappointed his supporters, who expects 1 more than Cobbett iv his last years was able to give. Tl'e several speeches he made, fell com paratively dead, and mndo no marked impression upon the house. The late hours ot' Parliament also were not suited to Cobbett'a habit.-' of life. ' When a mnn is quietly journeying downwards into the valley of the shadow of departed youth, and begins to contemplate in a shortened perspective, the end of his pilgrimage, he becomes more solicitor than ever that the remainder of his wayfaring should be smooth and pleasant, and the evening of his life, like the evening of a summer's day, fade away in mild, uninterrupted serenity:' and this inmate desire for repose was now felt by Cobbett. Several years before he went to Parlia ment, his means enabled him to take a farm of about 200 acres, in the parish of A.sh, three miles from his native place, and I rather believe that the pleasures and natural surroundings of his little farm, the culture of wheat, the growth ot trees and flowers, and the companionship of sheep and cattle, were more in harmony with his taste and feelings than were the debates, and frequently dull speeches of the House of Commons. His life close! at Normandy Farm, in tbe parish of Ash, June 18, 1835. The day before he died he talked collectedly on garden and firm projects, and wished to see his crops. Two of his sons conveyed him round the fields for that purpose, and brought him back to his tranquil homestead, to dia among the scenes of his youth. During the following week the lines ot Ebenezor Elliott were literally fulfilled :— " Oh bear him Tfh«ro tho r;ia c in fall, Arjd where 'he winds cm b,uW ; And l"t the sun shins o'er his pa'i A3 to the grave ye go ! And in sorao little, love churchyard, BißiOe the growing corn ; LavKe-.tlenatu cs stein, prose-bard, ji.tr mightiest, peasants, barn. Insuch a spot in the little churchyard of Farnbam, beside the growing com, sleeps William Cobbett, who has not inaptly been called the ' Last of the Saxons.' In reading Cobbetfs book we are frequently amused by his singular mcon sistences," his absurdities, strange likes and dislikes, and almost boundless egotism,

A.gain, we are struck with occisi

instances of his sterling common si

moral truths, and poetic pictures, winch blossom forth, fragrant and fresh as new mown hay. lie was, as already noticed, exceedingly temperate in eating and drink ing, aad especially careful of time. During the early and latter parts of his life, he drank nothing but water, and I was told in his native town that he never was knowu to be in a state of intoxication. In his last years, while at Normandy Farm he took no stimulants, partly because lie, felt himself better without them, and partly because he would not indirectly pay the malt tax, (a tax against which the people were lifting their voices.) Cobbett also, laid aside the clay pipe, but in its stead he took up the snuff box ; he exchanged virginan weed, for brown rappee, so that he was not greatly advantaged by the change In his grammer, we find such sentiments as these • 'Health, without which life is not worth having, you will hardly fail to secure by early rising, exersise, sobriety and abstemiousness as to food. Happiness or misery, is in the mind. It; ia the mind that lives ; and the length of life aught to be measured by the number and impor tance of our ideas, and not by the number of our days. .Never therefore, esteem rae:i merely on account of their riches, or their station. ltespect goodness, find it where you may, honor talent, wherever you behold it unassociated with rice, but honor it most when accompanied by exer tion, and especially when exerted in the cause of truth and justice. Cobbett ob jected to card-playing ; he considered ir a 'waste of time' but dancing he says 'is at once rational and healthful,' and according to his own confession, altho' he loved to listen to the skylark and the nightingale, he had no liking for instru mental music; ho says 'a love of music shows a want of capacity or inclination tor sober thought, and, generally speaking it is a preference of sound to sense.'

n Cobbett was anxious to see the people educated, physically, morally, and iritol lectuully. ' The education I speali of,' lie says, 'consists in bringing up children to labor with steadiness, with care, and with still ; to show them how to do as many useful things as possible, to teaoh thorn bow to do them all in the best possible manner; to set them an example in industry, sobriety, cleanliness, ami neat ness ; to make all these habitual to them, so that they shall never be liable to fall into the contrary; to let them always s>n' a good living proceeding iVoui labor, and thus to remove from them the temptation lo get at the goods of others by violent or fraudulent means, and to keep tar from their minds all the inducements to hypocrisy and deceit.' Cobbelt was a lover of children. Jesus said, ' Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, lor of such is the Kingdom or' Heaven' —'A figure,' he viys, 'most forcibly expressive of the character and beauty of innocence, and at, the same time most aptly illustrative of the doctrine of

regenera! ion.

Oobbett was no hypocrite, n »it.'u-r was lie. like suo:c men, a mere giver of good advice; ho practically lived thu life he recommend-d, ami exemplified in his own character tiio virtues h« taught to others. !i is books are tho rrfk«x of his personal habits; and lie exhibited many individual traits well worthy of our emulation, and others which we should nor, car.; to imi tate He had no charity for those whose mental condition or worldly circumstances induced them to hold different opinions to thoio which he chori>hed ;ho was unfor giving and exceedingly unfair towards persons who happened to offend him. aid rarely forgave even the most trifling oilenco. He frequently evinced an intolerably dogmatic temperament, was Impulsive", and often offensive ia his utterances. His harsh and scornful invectives brought a host of enemies around him, and which caused much of his trouble and, possibly, much of his fame. The coarse, unseemly language he I used against Matthews, the best abused man ot his time ; a man who, in spite of his unpopular ' Population1 theory, was benevoleut in his intentions, and kindly disposed towards the poor, fails, from its uncharitableness to win general appropati'.n. These outbursts of passion, or unhallowed feelings, however, belonged to the nature of the man ; we must take him an he was, with all his short comings, characteristic blemishes, and versatile talents. As a self-taught man, as the architect of his own fortune, as a true moral teacher, as a noble example of self-help. Cobbett is entitled to respect, and is worthy the study of working men. j By thrift, economy, sobriety, and industry, he overcame, single handed, all those impediments which obstruct the humble student in the path of human enlighten ment. In his youth he scarcely received the common rudinun s of a common education, yet he became a good English scholar, a logical thinker, and, as Lord Worth said of'him, the 'greatest political reasoner he ever kuew.' Cobbett was not acquainted with classical literature;_ he never troubled himself about ancient mythologies—he cared naught for meta physical puzzles, and college degrees ; he had no sympathy with poetry and art ; hispjetry was the woodlands, aud Ins 1 pictures were the green meadows, and 1 golden cornfields. He was, however, well versed in that homely kind of knowledge which pertains (o our daily wants and daily duties. He knew, more lover, wh every Englishman should know—viz., the constitutional history of hia country, in

Mus latter years, Cobbett contemplated 'writing a history of Eugland for the people, bat ho did not live to accomplish the work. It is well, perhaps, that he did not live to write such a history, bcc?."«e J think his strong prejudices, and un generous mode of treating public characters, would have disqualified him for the task. Cobbett'a best works are among the most practical of their kind in the language. His avowed enemies took occasion to read whatever he wrote ; they knew that the thoughts came from the mind of a master, with all the geniality and freshness of the farm about them, and those peculiar features form the power which made Oobbett's writings attractive unto all men, and gavo to them fire, life, and circulation. A charge of egotism has beeu urged—and very justly so— against Cobbatt as a writer, but ' his egotism is delightful,' says Hazlitt, 'for there is no affectation in it; he does not write of himself for lack of something to write about, but because that some circumstance had happened to himself, which is the best possible illustration of his subject.'

Cobbett'a ' English Grammar' is the besfc we have for the adult population ; it has taught thousands of young men in its familiar way, to express their thoughts with clearness and propriety. if is ' Cottage Economy' has taught thousands of cottagers to utilize the common advan tages of their position, in tho way of garden and home management ; his ' Advice to Young Men' is full of practical wisdom, virtuous exhortation, and generally correct sentiments ; his ' llural Rides' is redolent of the beauty of the field, full of useful hints to farmers, interspersed with graphic pictures of peasant life; his ' Year's Residence in America' displays his settled love for flowers, animals, and birds; and, to his credit bo it said, he always pleaded mercy and humanity towards the dumb creation. He would not ill-use a poor horse, nor confine a bird in a cage. 'Be it engraven on your heart, young man.' he writes, 'that whatever appearances may s;iy to the contrary, cruelty is always accompanied with cowardice, and always with perfidy, when that is called for by the circum stances of the case, and, that habitual acts of cruelty to other creatures, will, nine tinrs out of ten, produce, when the power is possessed, cruelty to human beings.' Gobbett's ' History of the Reformation,' winch upon its first appearence in numbers, circulated chiefly through the influence of Daniel O Connell, to the extent of sixty thousand copies, weekly, though clearly a one-sided work, contains a cousiderpbh; amount of truth. Few of us, however, in these days" would like to live perpetually under the temporal power and sole guidance of a p piesthooc', however tolerant that priesthood might be*.

Oobbett wrote politicil pamphlets, tracts, v paper on the currency, a volume of sermous which few ministers would be disposed to deliver from the pnlpit, also a legacy to parsons, a legacy to hbonrers, and orher minor publications. He wrote a geographical work, entitled 'A Book of Roads,' and in tho matter of roads, he exercised a marked influence in the locality of his farm. Cobbctt, professedly, was i! -i a religions teacher; he rarely con versed upon religious topics, but was very regular in his seat in clie parish church. ' I love a religion.' he says, ' that tends to make men, benevolent, wise, virtuous, and happy.' Oobbett's religion was in har mony with hisdaily notions, anil notatnatter separate, ;>n<l apart from the life that now is. He possessed gifts, physical, and mental fresh and instructive in their strength, and beauty from the hand of the Creator, and he endeavoured in obedience to the light wit'uin him, to u<e those gifts in. a way at once advantageous to himself, and others. 3£ven in his little farm of three hundred acres, he was not merely a, talker and writer about the condition, and suffer ings of the pi o'; but in his conduct he set a practical example, by giving 2s 6d a week more wages to his labourers than his neighbour's wero giving. Oobbett was an intense! hater of hypocrisy, and sham; he respected what he called ' decent pride,' but he detested the out side show—the whited sepulchre that ornamented mockery, which two often covers a sad heart —a state of meal bank mptcy. Thus, reader, I have briefly indea voure'd to sketch the character of William Cobbett, and to give some idea of his opinions and life. The reader will easily distinguish between the true, and the false, the gold and the dross. The character of Cobbott reflects the impor tant fact upon the mind of young men which they will do well to consider, viz— ho who would reach a true position in the world must himself carve his way thither, not by maudlin patronage, but by patient industry and self-denying habits. Labour stands on golden feet, and man's can only truely succeed by the healthful exercise of the brain, and the honest work of the hands The world has had greater men and better men than William Cobbett, but none more energetic none more honest. We want men of the Cobbett stamp in this colony, fearless, outspoken, unselfish, men ; we want industrious men, wise econ omists, and practical legislators ; we want men of business like habits of commercial integrity, to raise the tone of commercial morality ; we want good farmers, in order thi*t the waste plnces of the colon y m-:y blossom as the rose; we i want ia<:,,hiful, farseeing men of the press, to form a healthy public opinion;

EVENING STAR SUPPLEMENT, NOVEMBER 18, 1876.