Pennsylvania has made a great clearing in the ranks of her Representatives. One-half of the late members of the Forty-first Congress are re-elected. But this includes the late Hon. John Covode. According to the record, eleven of the old members are in their seats and thirteen new men are to try their hands at the raw work of legislation. The most prominent men who retire are Charles O’Neill, of Philadelphia, and Daniel J. Morrell, of Johnstown, both able men on the floor. Mr. O’Neill has been in Congress eight years, winning fresh honors with every succeeding year, and just at the present time, when he has attained the zenith of Congressional usefulness, he slips back into the calm waters of private life. If Philadelphia can stand the affliction there is no one else to complain. Hon. Charles O’Neill looks as if he had just laid aside all care and trouble and was about to commence the world again. Chicago recalls the stately Mr. Judd, one of the most courtly and elegant men in Congress. Few men are stronger than he is in legislative matters; but a man of polished manners is remarkable because the House of Representatives is not noted for its laws of genteel propriety. And then it is so strange that Chicago should be distinguished for its grace or courtly qualities. The Hon. Shelby M. Cullom goes also, but then it is said that he will return next winter as Congressman for the State at large. The greatest wit in Congress, Proctor Knott, retires to the shades of Lebanon, Kentucky. Who will forget his memorable speech on the railroad to Duluth and the paving of Pennsylvania avenue? We know nothing about his qualities as a legislator, but blessings be on the head of a man that can make us laugh. Rogers, of Arkansas, actually yields up the legislative ghost. Rogers, the man who wanted all the women of the Treasury blown out exactly as the flame of a lamp is served. “Poor Rogers,” Susan B. Anthony calls him. If the delectable Susan meant poor in flesh, she was right, for Rogers resembles a bear immediately upon waking up after taking its long delicious winter snooze. This letter comes to an end because no more ex-Congressmen to-day can step across the vestibule of our mind. OLIVIA. THE BLACK MAN IN CONGRESS. SKETCHES OF A NUMBER OF SOLONS OF AFRICAN DESCENT. WASHINGTON, _March 11, 1871_.