"And euery ioye hym is delaied, So that within his herte affraied A thousande tyme with one breath, Wepende he wissheth after death, Whan he fortune fynt aduerse."--_Gower._ "Ah, little think the gay, licentious proud, How many pine in want, * * * * * how many drink the cup Of baleful grief, and eat the bitter bread Of misery!" Never in my life, in any place, or under any circumstances, had I before entered a human abode of such perfect and entire destitution as that of poor Wheelwright! It was a wretched apology for a house, at best, containing two stories, of two rooms upon a floor each. The upper apartments were occupied by several poor Irish families. The front room below had been Wheelwright's workshop, and the family lived in the room back of it. Both looked as though they had been swept and garnished by the hand of Famine herself. Not a single article of furniture, of any description, was left! Crouched over two short brands,--the remains of a couple of sticks of wood which a poor neighbor had given them the day before,--were Wheelwright and his wife, shivering with cold. In one corner of the room lay two or three bushels of chopped straw, in which they slept. Not a bed, nor a blanket, nor a chair, nor any article or utensil of furniture whatsoever, had been left; all, all, was in the hands of the remorseless pawn-brokers, as the sufferers showed me by their certificates--pawned, too, for such pitiful sums as at once attested the oppressive and disgraceful system of avarice upon which those establishments are conducted. The storm yet howled fearfully without, and the hard particles of indurated snow were sifting through the interstices of the crazy building. The eye of man has seldom rested upon such a scene of stern and unmitigated poverty. Shylock or Sir Giles Overreach--aye!--any body but a pawn-broker--would have melted into tears at the spectacle. The children, almost naked, had just been taken to the fire-side of a poor Irish neighbor, to keep their benumbed bodies from freezing to the heart. I was appalled for the moment, as I gazed about upon this unexampled picture of destitution. Before me, seated on his haunches upon the hearth, was poor Wheelwright, resting his chin upon his hand,--and "the woman"--unfortunately his wife--by his side. He was moody--broken--crushed! "Well!" he exclaimed, as I approached the forlorn couple--"you see what I have come to!" I saw the state of the case--the cause, and the effect--at a glance--"THAT WOMAN!"--as he had denominated her with such emphasis in the morning. In good sooth, I liked her not. She looked hale and hearty, notwithstanding their destitution--was ragged, and none of the neatest in her person.