Apparently weary of wielding the Vice-President’s sceptre, Schuyler Colfax has slipped out of the honored chair to a lower seat, and a Senator occupies his place. If a public man wants to be buried alive he can accomplish it by getting himself elected heir-apparent to the Executive. The Vice-President of the United States never has a chance to read his name in the newspapers, and by the time his four years are up the dear public have forgotten him. Oh, the horror of riding on the topmost wave of popularity, and then suddenly finding oneself plumped out of sight, actually buried under a mountain of greatness. If the President would only die. But who ever knew a President to commit suicide, though he is perfectly aware that another man has been actually prepared to take his place, and that the people of this country will not suffer for the want of a President? The actual reason why the great body of American women are against woman suffrage is because they fear that some time in the course of their natural lives they will be called on to act as Vice-President. Schuyler Colfax was seen reading a newspaper at the foot of his throne, and if he gets any comfort out of his position it must consist in holding the gavel suspended over the heads of the shining lights of the country. And yet there is no chance of bringing these Senators to order, as in the case of the unruly members of the House. The Senators are always in order; there is no chance of enjoyment for Schuyler Colfax except to crawl out of his seat and read a newspaper. And what does he find in that newspaper? Oh, sorrow and consternation! Dawes is ravishing the East with economical delights, and Logan is cleansing the Augean stables of the House in which iniquity has herded ever since the Republic began. There are two positions which are alike, so far as the country is concerned, the Vice-Presidency of the United States and that of a country schoolmaster. In the person of Senator Harlan, of Iowa, may be seen the presiding officer of the hour. How admirably he becomes the sombre, dignified place. Nature has cast this man in a noble mould. Broad forehead, clear gray eyes, and features as handsomely chiseled as if fresh from the hands of a first-class sculptor. Few men in the Senate have the simple tastes of Senator Harlan. His personal presence would be superb if it were not for the general appearance of threatened disruption which marks his every-day attire. But, notwithstanding the inclination of his coats to wear out under the arms and fringe in exactly the wrong place, no Senator at the capital is more beloved or trusted by the people of his own State now residents of Washington than Senator Harlan.