Morissey, the well-known American gambler, has passed away. At one time he kept a small drinking-saloon of the lowest character. So disreputable was the place that it was closed by the authorities. Morissey was also a prize-fighter. Drunken, brutal, without friends or money, he came from Troy to New York to see what would turn up. At that time an election was in progress; and elections were carried by brute force. There was no registry law; and the injunction to vote early and vote often was literally obeyed. In such a city, and at such a time, Morissey was in his element. Having acquired a little money, he opened a place for play. He became thoroughly temperate. He resolved to behave well, to be sober, and not gamble. Those resolutions he carried out. His house in New York was the most elegantly furnished of any of the kind in the State; the table, the attendants, and the cooking, were of the first order. He followed his patrons to Saratoga, and opened there what was called a club-house; judges, senators, merchants, bankers, millionaires, became his guests: the disguise was soon thrown off, and the club-house assumed the form of a first-class gambling-house at the Springs. Horse-racing and attendant games followed, all bringing custom and profit to Morissey’s establishment; and thus he amassed a large fortune, and died in the odour of respectability which wealth confers. Morissey, as Congress man, was not exactly a working member. When he first went to Washington, Mr. Colfax hardly knew on which of the committees of the House it would be best to put him; so he said, in a very apologetic tone, “Well, Mr. Morissey, I should be very glad to oblige in regard to a great many old members, and all the best places belong by right to them. Still, I will see what I can do for you.” “Well, Mr. Speaker,” said the new member, “I am pretty particular; but 1 will, at any rate, tell you what I want. If there is a committee that has no committee-room, never has any business sent to it, and never meets, I should like to be put on the tail-end of that committee. How does it strike you?” “You relieve me wonderfully,” said Mr. Colfax. “I will put you on the Committee of Revolutionary Pensions.”