ly,
Thatcher said in substance, that being a husband and father, his
family had an interest in his life, and that he could not think of
accepting the invitation without the consent of his wife, that
he would immediately consult her, and _if successful in obtaining her
permission,_ he would meet Mr. Blount with pleasure. Whereupon
Fisher Ames, one of the great men of the day, wittily remarked to a
bachelor colleague, "Behold now the advantage of having a wife--
God preserve us all from gunpowder!"

The reply of Thatcher was read in the House, causing much merriment
and leaving his adversary--

"Sacred to ridicule his whole life long,
And the sad burden of some merry song."

It is hardly necessary to add that at last accounts the consent of
Mrs. Thatcher had not been obtained.

It is scarcely remembered that Lord Byron, angered by a bitter
criticism, once challenged the poet Southey. Accepting the challenge
conditionally, Southey added:

"In affairs of this kind, the participants ought to meet on
equal terms. But to establish the equality between you and me
there are two things that ought to be done, and a third may also be
necessary before I meet you on the field. First, you must marry
and have four children--all girls. Second, you must prove that
the greater part of the provision which you make for them depends upon
you life, and you must be under bond for four thousand pounds not to
be hanged, commit suicide, nor be killed in a duel, which are
the conditions upon which I have insured my life for the benefit
of my wife and daughters. Third, you must convert me to infidelity.
We can then meet on equal terms, _and your challenge will be
cheerfully accepted."_

Since the writing of the letters of Junius, nothing probably has
appeared equal in invective to the correspondence seventy years
ago between Daniel O'Connell and Benjamin Disraeli. The former
was at the time a distinguished member of Parliament, and an orator
without a peer. Disraeli, at first a supporter of the policy of
the great Liberator, had joined the ranks of his enemies, and
was unsparing in his denunciation of O'Connell and his party.
In his reply O'Connell, after charging his assailant with ingratitude
and treachery, concluded as follows:

"I cannot divest my mind of the belief that if your genealogy were
traced, it would be found that you are the lineal descendant and
true heir-at-law of the impenitent thief who atoned for his crime