American telegraph. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1851-1851, 1851-04-08
THE AVENUE AT MIDNIGHT.

We lately walked the pavements of the Ave-
nue. at midnight, when there were no sounds to
be heard around save our own footsteps There
were stars and clouds above us 1.-THE horizon of
our hopes has always shown us both y and there
was the whisper of the wind through the boughs
of the budding trees. But all was familiar to
us, save the stiffness Of the Avenue; its walks
were for once deserted, and the sight seemed SO
strange that we felt uncomfortable until our
imagination began to summon up its throng Of
busy, thoughtful people. 1t seemed to us that
we only imagined them into being, and yet it
seemed that we had seen them all pass thou
sand times before. Some Of them were legisla-
tors--proud, naughty, arrogant, and dissipated,
though at the same time crafty, plausible, and
popularity seeking. Some of them were the
representatives Of foreign governments, looking
with a complaisant and patronising air on all
around them, and fancying that, by means of q
continued friendly intercourse with their respec-
tive nations, the country of which this is the
capital might yet take q position among the in
telhgent and civilized of the earth. Some Of
them were high functionaries of our own Gov
ernment oyerpowered by the cup of oblivion,
which SO often causes them to forget that their
power is but transitory, and that eternal politi-
cal oblivion SO surely awaits those who for a
moment fail to remember by whom and for
what they have been elevated to their high sta
tons Some of them were public officers of
inferior grades, living for the enjoyment Of the
present hour, and looking to the future with no
other light than the dim hope that the secretary
next to be placed over them, be his political
character what it might, would not frown upon
them--and coaxing upon their own features the
counterfeit Of smile with which to court and
win his favor. And some Of them were women
pretty, innocent women--evidently lost in the
delusion that they were floating upon the bill
lows of an elevated condition of society, where
wealth and titles were universal, and panied
only Mt the remembrance of their plebeian ORR
gin, and the homely pursuits of their parents
and kindred; gentle, lovely, loving, faithful
women, whom men SO uniformly endeavor to
lead into folly when about to make fools of
themselves.
But every one wore the marks of anxious
care upon the brow. All were covetous of the
favor of others, or fearful they might lose it
and yet struggling to conceal even that which
rested like shadow upon each visage.
We were, at length, startled from our reverie
by the approach of figure. 1t was that of
miserable, tremulous old man, on whose back
the finest of broadcloth seemed to have grown
threadbare and ragged. He asked in humble
terms for charity-for money to procure food
and shelter. We gave it to him, and then
asked a
g Is your home in this city?"}
ssNo," he replied; 81 came here with expec-
tations'-
$50 did oil thesep' we inyoluntarily ex-
claimed; and then, fastening home, endeavored
to hope, as we sank into sleep, that economy,
industry, honesty, disregard for pomp and
display, and independence of spirit, might ere
long be reconciled with the spirit of true demo-
cratic republicanism and the usages of the
American people @.