No man is more respected in the Assembly than Mr. Jordan, and reform measures offered by him are often carried through the house, owing to the respect the members have for the introducer. In the year 1860, the honorable gentleman was elevated to the dignity of knighthood by the Queen. Sir Edward Jordan has ever been regarded as an honest, upright, and temperate man. In a literary point of view, he is considered one of the first men in Jamaica. It is indeed a cheering sign for the negro to look at one of his race, who, a few years ago, was tried for his life in a city in which he is now the chief magistrate, inspector of the prison in which he was once incarcerated, and occupying a seat in the legislature by the side of the white man who ejected him from his position as a clerk, on account of his color. To those who say that the two races cannot live in peace together, we point to the Jamaica Assembly, with more than half of its members colored; and to all who think that the negro is only fit for servitude, we reply by saying, Look at Sir Edward Jordan. JOSEPH CARTER. The subject of this sketch is a native of the city of Bridgetown, Barbadoes, where he was born on the 16th of February, 1831. At the early age of eleven years, he was apprenticed to William Howell, a cabinet-maker of his native place. The boy showed so much genius and skill even at this tender age, that he excited an interest in his behalf, which culminated in his becoming the ward of Miss Hayes, a talented lady, of English origin, whose guardianship of young Carter did much to pave the way for the development of his hidden powers. In his seventeenth year, Joseph came to the States in company with his guardian, and settled in the city of Philadelphia, where he now resides. Buoyant with hopes, knowing his own capacity, and aspiring in his nature, the young man went forth in search of employment, little dreaming of the insurmountable prejudice which every man of his color has to meet in this country, and more especially in cities in the border states. In vain he went from shop to shop, appealing for simple justice, feeling confident that if once in employment, he could keep his situation by his ability as a workman. Wherever he appeared before a manufacturer, the reply was, "I would hire you if my hands, who are white, would not leave me." This calls to mind an incident that was related to me by a master gilder in Sixth Street, Philadelphia, a few years since. I had stepped into his place to purchase a picture frame, when, on learning that I was from Boston, he inquired if I was acquainted with Jacob R. Andrews. I replied that I was. "Then," said he, "do you see that bench there?" "Yes." "There was where he learned his trade." "Was he apprenticed to you?" I inquired. "No," said he; "he came to me, wishing to learn the business: my men refused to work in the same room with him, although he was as white as most of them.