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vay, you'll make yourself respected and looked up to by your vife. Alvays contredict her in little things, Sammy: it lets her see that you think more of yourself than her; and venever she begins to cry, Sammy, to make you give in, for all vimmen is up to that gammon, sooner or later,

— then, on the werry fust symptoms, have ready a good, strong, leather strap, and lay it about her till she veeps in airnest. This is a werry good cure to fits of that kind, and I only vishes I had tried it myself, early. But the chief part of your duty, Sammy, is not toward yourself or your vife, but to the world in ginral. It is, to take care of your health, so as to live a good long life, and not die fust.

"A man, Sammy, as dies before his vife, is of consekens guilty of a haynous offence to society and to her. He leaves a voman as might have bin a ornament to 'siety, in a new character. She becomes a vidder, Sammy, and there's no tellin' how much mischief she von't do, as long as there's breath in her body. I'm so persvaded of the importance of this 'ere view, that venever I sees a man as loves his vife a lamentin' an' sorrowin' over her fallin' away, it seems to me unaccountable that he will shut his eyes to the consolin' fact, that she's as good

as insured against splitting on the rocks of vidderhood.

"Vidders, Sammy, has, from time 'memorial, had their names up for mischief, and an aggrawatin' propensity to set up their own Ebenezers. They say that there's not a line in the Bible that don't teach some mortal truth. Now, jist take the story about the vidder and the unjust judge. Afore I was married to your mother-in-law, Sam

my,

I never thought much about that story. I thought, as I dessay many does, that it was written 'ginst lawyers and judges. P'raps it was, in part; but the 'sential pint is, to warn you against the insinivations of vidders. The last time I read it, it made such a impression on me, that I can say it all off by heart; and it goes this vay: Now, listen unto vot said the unjust judge. "Thof I fear not God, nor care a damn for any man, yet owin' to the aggrawatin' cryin' and hauntin' of this vidder by day and by night, I'm determined to let her have her own vay."

"In Ingy, Sammivel, (vere they has had the lights of hexperience for ages, bein' as it is vun of the oldest settled places,) in Ingy, they contrives it so as never to have any vidders. They burns 'em alive, Sammy, reglar as their usbands

dies. I've no doubt that, in that country, men is healthier and better natur'd than here; it must foller as a nat'ral consekens."

When Mr. Weller had at length finished, Mr. Pickwick, after a thoughtful pause, observed —

"Some of your deductions are so bold, and contrary to most of our habits of thought, (prejudices they may be,) that I am hardly prepared to pronounce an opinion on them at present. One thing, however, I must say; and that is, that rarely, if ever, have I received such a succession of entirely new ideas, and better expressed; that is," added he, with some qualification, "more plainly spoken."

The reader will observe that we have been at some pains to give in full the peculiar views and sentiments which were entertained by the strongminded though uneducated Mr. Weller. One further illustration remains to be given, and this chapter will be finished.

In Mr. Pickwick's library, a small, hot-pressed, quarto edition of a certain book, entitled "Hints to Married People," had remained quietly in its morocco binding and gilt edges for several years. On the morning after the above conversation, Mr. Pickwick handed it to Mr. Weller, senior, with the request that he would have it

read aloud, and favor him by making marginal notes of such thoughts as occurred to him.

In the course of a month, it was returned, and Mr. Pickwick had the pleasure of finding every chapter marked at the end in a strong, bold hand. One or two were thought by Mr. Weller to be worthy of the the epithet "GOOD;" but nine out of ten were set down

as "GAMMON."

THE MADONNA.

A TRANSLATED SKETCH.

BY NATHANIEL GREENE.

THE day had been sultry. Resolved to avail myself of the approach of evening to catch a breath of fresh air upon the sea-shore, I provided myself with a guide, and sallied from the gates of Syracuse. Before wandering far, I suddenly caught a view of the most interesting group my eyes had ever beheld. Upon a high, square pedestal, in a niche which on one side had suffered from time and the elements, a marble image of the Madonna stood before me. Countless creeping plants twined around the shrine; a gentle breeze played among the darkgreen leaves which intercepted the last rays of the setting sun, and threw their tremulous shadows upon the pale marble face of the image. The dark clouds that were rolling up from Etna, were tinged with a golden purple ; and before me lay the sea, quiet and unruffled as the blue heavens it reflected.

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