IH, - N - TI)GBON JOU ',k NAI
ffrtutilp Iteloopmict 4 -73cVota to Geneva lattelltacitre, Voittio,"/litcratttre, Sttoratitu, arts, *ate cro, nay (culture, annulment, &c.,
IC3®.. ea-M.
PUTILTIMED Dt
JAMES CLARK,
•
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cordingly.
POETRY.
"To charm, the languid hours of solitude
lie oft invitee her to the Muse's lore."
-
To a Bereaved Mother.
DT JORN torscx ADAMS, X. L. D
Sure to the mansions of the blest
When INFANT innocence ascends,
Some angel, brighter than the rest,
The spotless spirit's fight attends,
On wings or ecstacy they rise,
Ifeyand where worlds material roll;
NTill sonar fair sister' of the skies
Receives the unpolluted soul.
The inextinguishable beam,
With dust united at our birth,
Sheds a more dim, discolor'd gleam
The more it limas upon earth.
Closed in this dark abode of clay,
The stream of glory faintly burns :
Not unobserved, the lucid ray
To its own native fount returns.
But when the Loan of mortal breatlt
Decrees his bounty to resume,
And points the silent shaft of death
Which speeds an infant to the tomb—
No passion tierce. nor low desire,
Has quenched the radience of the flame;
Back to its Gon the living fire
Reverts unclouded as it came.
Fond mourner ! be that solace thine !
Let hope her healing charm impart,
And soothe, with melodies divine,
The anguish of a mothers heart.
0, think ! the darling of thy lore,
Divested of this earthly clod,
Amid unnumbered saints above,
Bask in the boson of their Gen.
Of their short pilgrimage on earth
Still, tender images remain :
Still, still they bless iheo for their birth,
Still filial gratitude retain.
Each anxious care, each rending sigh,
That wrung for them the parent's breast
Dwells on remembrance in the sky,
\ Amid the raptures of the blest.
O'er thee,with looks of love, they bend;
For thee the Lono of life implore ;
And oft from sainted blisi descend,
Thy wounded quiet to restore.
Oft, in the stillness of the night,
They smooth the pillow of thy bed;
Oft, till the morn's returning light,
Still watchful hover o'er thy head.
Hark! in such strains as saints employ,
They whisper to thy bosom peace;
Calm the perturbed heart to joy,
And bid the streaming Borrow cease.
Then dry, henceforth, the bitter tear;
Their part and thine inverted see:—
Thou wert their guardian angel here,
They guardian angels now to thee.
Tho Satirist squibs away at the general fuss end
rejoining at the firth of the young Prince, and says
that the following verses were sung at various places
to 1 . God save the King :"
Good Lord, how glad are we,
A Prince of Wales to see—
For him we'll fight:
Make him victorious,
For pluck notorious,
And wo'll got." glorious"
This blessed night.
May it please thee to bless
And comfort the Princeae,
With graco anoint;
Protect her 'g;inst all foes,
0 Since we must fain euppose
ner pretty little nose
Is out of joint.
0 ! may we never wince
At cost Of our young Prince,
,
Woes conle to town:
The wretch who dares to say
He'd rother be away;
And won't get drunk to-day
We'll knock him down !
night heartily rro hails
Another Prince of Wales,
A hake of graco !
IVe'll shell out eery rap,"
To:pay for milk and pap—
God bless the little chap,
And all his race I
WemAN AT THE COFER OF SICKNESC.--I love
to see her nt the'cnwch of sickness, sustaining the
fainting head--offering to the parched lips its cor
dial—to the craving palate its simple nourishment—
treading with noiseless assiduity around the solemn
curtains, and complying with the wish of the inva
lid, when he says
"Let me not have this gloomy view
About my room, about toy bed ;
But blooming roses wet with dew,
To cool my burning brow instead,.
Disposing tho aunlight upon the pale forehead . —
bathing the hair with ointment, and the light set
tiing upon it from the summer casements that
breathe of heaven. How lovely arc such olllibi
tions of ever during constancy and faith. llow
they appear to the soul, like tho lover in Confider,
, w!lose fingers, when Ahem., to open door to her
were "dropping with sweet smelling myrrh
MC:i z
111ZOCELLA.N30713.
The Golden Clasp; or, the Perjured
Gold smith.
fly raorEsion J. INGIIA/lAn.
PART I.
A modeet and exceedingly pretty young girl
plainly attired, entered ono of the goldsmith's store.
of---. air et, and seeing that a goit'eman was
eugaged with the proprietor, she timidly shrunk
ankle near the door until he should ho at leisure.
The assistants were also ocempied with customers
whose &mend appearance showed them to belong
to the class of the rich, and so she was suffered to
remain for some time standing there before she
could be attended to. The gentleman, who was a
fine noble looking person, with a remarkably pol
ished address, seeing her waiting, corteously stood
aside, and said to the goldsmith--
Do not occupy yourself with me now, Mr. Broo.
chard. I can examine these watches by myself while
you see what this young person wants who has
been waiting se long and patiently, to get an op
portunity to address you.
What do you wish, Miss? asked the goldsmith,
with a look which conveyed a reproof to her for in
terrupting him while engaged with a customer of
snore rate to him.
The girl hesitatingly approached the counter;
and taking from her bosom a amall gold clasp, bent
over to him and paid in a low trembling voice—
I wish, ail, you would be so kind as to keel, this
a few days and let me have seven dollars on it.
Low as sho spoke, hor soft tiembling tones reach
ed the ears of Col. M'Honry, the gentleman who
was presont, and ho turned to observe her face, and
hear the reply of the goldsmith to this timed and
painfully uttered requeet. The goldsmith took the
clasp scornfully between his fingers, and then throw
ed it down, mid sharply to her--
This is no pawn brokers shop, and if it was,
that thing is not worth two dollore.
It is of inestimable value to me, sir—indeed it
is the only thing valuable that I have, answered
she, earnestly, and her cheek slightly flushed at the
rude manner of his reply.
I don't know what you value it at, he answered
with a cold laugh, glancing at Col. Wllenry whom
ho Raw severely o,.:erving him ; I would not like
/Jut, sir, plead the girl, • unconscious of being
overheard, I must have seven dollars to day, end
I have no other way of getting it, and I was in
hopes, sir, that you might let me have that sum on
it ; fcr I will certainly coma back and take it up
again.
I tell you, answered Mr. Droocliard angrily, I
keep no pawn broker's shop. Co to the Jews!
They won't give me but two dollars, sir, and I
want seven.
A nd . so you think to get it out of me?
'rho young girl was about to speak again, but,
as if not knowing what further argument to urge,
hesitated, and was slowly turning away, when she
checked herself and again spoke to him—
Sir, she said, in a low thrilling voice of earnest
entreaty, my mother is lying very ill, and our rent
is due at twain o'clock to day, and the person WO
sew for hoeing disappointed tic in our pay, I have
no other resource but this! Oh, sir, will you take
this clasp, only for a few days, and I will then re•
pay you?
Mr. Broochard felt that Col. M'lrenry's eyes
were upon him, waiting an answer, and as he wish.
ed him to think him a man of business, (which
meant in his notion a man without a heart,) ho an
swered promptly and sternly, No. Do you think
we are simpletons hero to throw away money in
this way. If you have nothing more to say, please
stand aside for customers. Well, Colonel, what
do you think of those watches? Latest importa
tion—full jewerd and warranted in all points. I
will sell you the one just laid down, for one hut'
dred and ninety-five dollars.
The gentleman, however, was not heeding him,
but watching the young girl whom he saw leave
the counter, end with a heavy drooping atop ap
proach the door. Her face had struck him for its
sweet intelligent loveliness, and her modesty had
for him an irresistible charm, but her plea of pov
erty, and her eloquent appeal to the tradesman,
deeply interested his feelings and enlisted his gym
whim in her behalf. He had silently observed
the progress of her interview with him, with emo
tions of contempt fur the one, and pity for the
other.
Her hand was on the knob of tho door, when
advancing towards her—
You asked, I believe, for seven dollars? he said,
with a gentle interest in his tone that at once
awakened hope in her heart, and brought the light
to her eyes and the hue to her checks, and she
diffidently answered--
Yes,sir. I would not have been so bold and ur'
gent but-.
you ore too kind
Not a word. lam happy to do you a Elmo.
Tako the clasp, sir; though I am ashamed to
offer it to you, since the gentleman says it is so
valueles.. Hut to mo it is valuable as life, and I
foolishly thought it mast be to other..
I do not want it, child, answered Col. McHenry
feelingly, putting the hand aside. which urged it
upon him.
Iked, sir, yon must take it, for I shall feel in
me your address sir? and as she spoke, he still de
cling the jewels, he laid it on tho show case.
Oh, no matter—but if you insist—the United
States Hotel.
Thank you sir; you can never know the bless
ings to others that will follow your kindness to me
to-day.
T hus speaking and looking upon him with an
expression of gratitude in her tearful eye, she left
the shop, forgetting the golden clasp which she had
left upon the show case.—Will you look at one of
these watches note, Col. McHenry, supercileeusly
asked the goldsmith, without lifting his condemned
eyes. _ .
No air, msarered the gentleman sternly. And
taking his gloves and cane from the shop of the
avaricious goldsmith, who, too close to risk a trifle
to relieve the wants of a poor family, probably lost
a large amount by the parchesea his wealthy cus
tomer might have made, as well as his own self
respect, such as It was; for avarice always shrinks
into its shell before the broad sun of benevoience
Now there goes a man who throws away money
upon vagrants, because I keep mine to support my
family, said the goldsmith, looking after hint. He
thinks mo a miser, and I think hint a fool. Oh,
hero is that clasp after all ! She left it for him on
the show-case and Ito was too proud to take it away,
if he saw it. Seven dollars ! It is not worth
more than five.
He opened it ae ho 'poke, end taking up a sharp
tnstrunient, tried the fineness of the gold.
It is good old Mexican gold. It might have cost
once twenty dollars. Alt! what aster of diamonds
within it ! ho exclaimed, as in working about with
the point of the steel ho discovered a cavity.
Twelve large diamonds of this pure as water !
This is indeed valuable! Lot me see—they aro
worth at least five hundred dollars! What value
to ask so much ! No, no, let it go for n small
sum, or else asked fur nearer its value. I euspect
she woo ignorant of this cavity, which I detected
only by accident, she has probably stolen it, and
will never come for it, Ah, alt, Abraham Bro.-
chard, thou host made a good morning's work of it!
he said, exultingly, to himself.
Then looking round among hip shop boys to see
if he were unobserved, ho carefully, yet with a
cheerless air, locked the clasp in a private drawer,
and taking out the key, placed it in his pocket.
He had hardly done so when Col. McHenry re-en.
cast his eyes upon the show-ease for the clasp, '
which ho recollected, after going out, the young
girl had lain down but did not take up again, and
so lie turned back fur it. Abraham Broochard was I
very busily engaged in replacing the watches in
their doe-skin coverings, and preserved silence and
ignorance. At length Col. McHenry spoke.
The young person laid her clasp on the case, sir,
which I neglected to take up. It wero a pity it
should be lost, she valued it so highly.
The clasp ! Oh, oh! I have not seen • it, sir.
She took it up again.
Did you ace her 7
Yes, oh yea! I had my eyes on her, and said at
the time, you'd, never coo your ten dollars or the
clasp again ?
The gentlemen eyed him steadily an instant, and
then glancing around the show-case again, as if in
search of it, ho quit the shop.
Several days elapsed, and Col. McHenry had
quite forgotten the circumstances just naruted,
when, as he was passing down Arch street, ho felt
his sleeve suddenly pulled by some one whom he
had heard running behind him, and looking round
he beheld, with a cheek glowing from the pursuit
the young girl he had seen at the goldsmith'.
Oh, sir, I am so happy to have found you, she
said, at once addressing him, as he stopped and with
pleasure listened to her. I was at length enabled
to got my pay, and by other work have earned
I enough to repay you the ten dollars you so kindly
gave me. You don't know the good you did sir,--
the sufferings you relieved—the timely aid averted
Here is the money, sir.
Nay, my good girl, Ido not want it. I made
you a present of it at the time and did not expec t
you to return it. lam however glad to find you
have had the disposition to do so, and that I was
n ot deceived in my estimation of you.
You must take it, sir ; she said with ingenious
earnestness. I should be distressed to be longer
under pecuniary obligations to an entire stranger.
Besides, sir, I would like my clasp, if you please.
Did you not take it horn the case where you laid
it down I he asked with surprise and justly directed
suspicion.
No air ;—indeed, sir, I hops it is not lost. It is
of countless value to me. It was given to me by—
by--
By a sweetheart : ho added, smiling.
Ho is now--dead, sir, she answered with over
whelming oyes.
You do well to value it. I did not take it
Aro you sure you loft it there?
Yes, sir, hoping you would take it and keep it
till I paid you .
Well my child, I have not got it : but I believe
the goldsmith has. Let no go to him.
On their arrival, Mr. Broochard denied ever hav
ing seen it since she went out, and that he saw her
take it with her and place it in her bosom es she
left the shop. The young lady turned pale, and
woe inconceivably distressed.
Come with me; I will find the clasp for you,
e- Fait! tr:3l. McHenry, offering her his arm cud leaving
I do hope I shall find it, sir; she said as they
walked. It was Rupert's last dying gift. It was
given to hint in Cuba by a rich lady whose life ho
had saved by rescuing her from the water. He was
a sailor, sir, and had little to leave me but his mein.
ory, and my poor clasp. Oh, sir, if it is lost I
shall never forgive myself for offering to pledge it.
But, sir, our extremity was very great.
Col. McHenry stopped with her at a justices
office, and briefly and clearly made his complaint,
and in a few minutes Mr. Abraham Broochard was
brought by an officer into the presence of the tong
istrate. 110 appeared to be in great trepidation,
and was pale as ashes ; for he had been suddenly
taken withoat warning, from behind his counter,
leaving his shop in charge of his astonished assist
ants. Colonel McHenry and tho young lady bay
ing been sworn, deposed that they both had seen
t he clasp on the show case, where each went out
and left it, the former further deposing that he had
not gone three steps from the door befor he returned
and found it missing, and no one in the vicinity but
the defendant.
Tlco goldsmith was then called upon to be sworn
as to his knowledge of the facts. He approached
the stand, where the magistrate held the Bible, and
laid his handl, upon it with a perceptible tremor of
his whole body; but love of money was stronger
than the fear of the law, and he took the oath. It
appeared as if ho would have sunk through the
floor when he did it ; but the moment it was done
he recovered his audacity. At this moment an
officer, who at the suggestion of Col. McHenry
had been privately despatched by the justice with a
search-warrant to the shop of the goldsmith, now
entered and placed something in the magistrate's
hand, after whispering 'briefly to him.
Did you over see this gold ornament beforo asked
the migistrate, holding up the clasp before the young
girl.
Oh, it is my clasp—it is my clasp ! she cried,
springing forward.
Yes—it is the gar., answered Cot. McHenry.
And did you ever see it before, sir? demanded the
justice sternly; holding it in tho direction of the
goldsmith, who hod seen it at the first, and was ap
palled with fear and consternation. Instead ev
plying, he uttered a wild, rough, and felt
his length in conv oboes upon the floor.
, te.as, a Jew writs afterwaids taken from prison
isi.A end ...irinned forperftpli ; but his rea
son forsook him, and instead of the gallows. ha is
now raving in a rnsd-house. Thus wan avarice
and parsimony and indifference to the sufferings of
others punished in this life; the acts of this selfish
man showing to all how that acquisitivenesa wrong
ly directed is fatal to its possessor.
Col. McHenry proved to lie a bachelor ; and
though a little turned of thirty, his heart was keen
ly alive to all the finer sensibilities of our nature.—
Ho would feel for the down-trodden poor, and eym
pathize with the unfortunate. To this truth nono
could more positively attest than the young friend
of the golden clasp,' for ere two moons had wa
ned, she rejoiced in the euphoric title of Mr. Col.
Henry, surrounded with all the appl icance of wealth
that a grateful heart like hers could enjoy or even
desire. Her poor afflicted mother was well provi
ded for, when she recovered her health and happi
ness, and prosperity smiled upon all.
The Weather.
The newspapers aro becoming quiet on the sub•
ject of the weather. During the pact week the
heat has abated materially ; people can now walk
upon the earth without risk of being baked !lest to
it; and can walk a square or two to di , ner without
! the danger of being 'done' as 'brown' as the roast
' beef awaiting them; and can go to their beds
withont the unpleasant posentiment that they aro
stepping into a steam bath. Thank our stars, wo
t have had several days of refreshing cool weather—
and we can enjoy it the more from a recollection of
the ardor with which Sol recently kissed the earth.
On ono of the hottest of the hot days through
which we have passed with no much tribulation,
one of our citizens, blessed with more fat than
brains, sat sweltering in a part of his dwelling
whore there ought in Aare been a draft, about 11
o'clock in the morning. Business called me into
a shop, from the open window of which we could
see and bear our unhappy friend. He lied heard
something of a thermometer, and had borrowed one
from a neighbor, in order, as ho raid, too 'tree
whether it would cool oil' the weather a little.'
His son was charged with the duty of watching the
thermometer, which was suspended in a front part
of the house in a room against which the sun was
beating pittilessly. The following conversation
castled
Father.—(Wiping his face with big eaturated
handkerchief.) Well Solomon, you had schooling
enough for a lawyer, do you understand what
o'clock the weather is now by that machine ?
Son.—Oh yea, it is DO degrees
Father . —Well, how much is DO degrees!
Son.--Eight degrees below blood heat.
Falher.--(After a pause of some minutes.) Sol
omon:. don't think that thing does much good. A
is trotter than before!
Son.—Oh, ?es, Sir, something hotter. The
thermometer makes it 91 now. Now its 91i!
Father.—Solomon, tako the tl—d thing home
or it will have the the home on fire presently !
13nEseit or Pitomisn.--A boy in Maine 15 yea!,
old, has lately been aueefor b?earli
ELOQUENT EXTILACTS.
Elihu Berritt, the learned blacksmith, is on now
cd abolitionist, Find is the assistant editor of an ob.
°Mien print at Worcesim, Massachusetts. He was
recently invited to attend a Convention irr Cincin
nati, to consider of "Abolition ar•.d Disunieri.' lie
could dot ga, but wrote a letter, from which the fol
lowing is an extract. We have never seen the val
ue of our glorious Federal Union ea eloquently
portrayed, as in this extract :
With such an end and aim as this, in the in
ception, prosecution, and issue of this great work
of philanthrophy, shall we talk of iLesolving In c
Union that Union to which the sum.. of our
efforts must give elements of cohesion stronger than
ten thousand chains of adamant I—that Union,
concentrating nucleus of hopes and interests of the
future ages of humanity!—that Union to which
the abolition of slavery would give a moral power
that should lift up the rase from its darkness and
depression 1 Dissolution of the Union ? What !
cut in two the Miscssippi, that *ler vein of the
New World, and sever ail the mighty arteries of
the Union, and leave it to bleed to death in hostile
segments, both writhing ha the cauteries of mutual
hatred! Nature itself would repel this profane
disruption of a system to whose integrity every
stream, from the Sabine to St. John's, is as necess
ary as any vein in the humnn body ! Dissolve the
Union!—run the amputating knife through the
child of all that the progressive ages of humanity
have produced of freedom and virtue ! and that be.
cause one of its members is infected with a cutaneous
disease,whieli not a drop of blood Less than that which
now circulates in its whole system will remove!—
Does God or mankind require the sacrifice of this
Union—this Isaac of the race, in which all nations
should be blessed I And shall Americans lift the
knife against it, not as tin act of faith, but of pu
sillanimous distrust in God If nothing in the
natural religion of patriotism could slay their sui
cidal arm, let every lover of his kind pray that the
Almighty who arrested his son may open the
cloudy curtain of his pavillion, and interpose a
cheaper victim of immolation, or that might
, Come thick eight,
And pal l it in the tionneat Amok. or
That its keen knife... not the wound it make.,
Or heaven peepthrough the blarket of the dark,
To cry Hold ! Hold ! !"
Dissolve the Union dissolve the whole moral
power we have and need to abolish slavery May
God grant that your Convention may banish that
treacherous idea from every American heart. T
trust that its Satanical lineaments will be detected
and detested, should it sutreptitiously enter your
councils in the guise of an angel of light. No
you will not meet to dissotre but to evolve the
Union ; to renovate it on the basis of the fathers of
the Republic. That basis is broad and deep enough
to unite tho world. A !totter foundation cannot be
laid by fallen men. You will meet as our fathers
met, you will begin where they be gun, and where
their degenerate children left off to build. You
will meet, to form a more perfect Union, establish
justice, ensure domestic tranquility, provide for the
common defence, promote the general welfare, and'
secure the blessing,' of liberty to ourselves and our
posterity. This is the work you will unite to re
sume. This is the foundation to which you will
descend to lay the first atone, that has been laid
therein since our ' fathers fell asleep.' As the na
tions round about Judea contributed materially to
the erection of Solomon's Temple, no the world
with all its moral wealth will become tributary to
the structnre of the Great American Temple of
Liberty, founded on ouch a rock, and bail its cons
pletion as the asylum and admiration of the race.
The Union f it is worth the s*Orld to the destiny of
human name for the abolition of slavery, and the
abolition of slavery will add the wealth and moral
power o f the world to the Union. May we speak
of the value of salvation and the extent of infinity
then, for lack of a more religious term, let me ex. I
press the hope and belief that your Convention will
enhance the value, because it shall increase the
strength and vitality of the Union. In that hope
' inspired imagination with which I am wont to con
template the destiny of the American Republic, I
have fancied that, its the lifetime of the present age
some heaven kissing monument, tlso offspring of
the 11th of Juno, might be erected from tho bed of
the Ohio, opposite your city, as a kind of centri
mundane column ailing to all things that shine
and sing in heaven, and all that can carry the news
on the wings of the wind, saying to all ages, to all
men, to all bondmen groaning in the undiscovered
habitations of cruelty t
• ' , I stand the plant's proud period."
I pronounce the work aceompliehed, the warfare
cloaca, the victory wort, the triumph of Mc Amer
ican Union.
Too Goon TO en LOST:A young man al; a .
social party, was urged to sing a song. lie replied
that he would first tell a story, and then if they
persisted in their demand he would endeavor to ex
ecute a song.--When a bey he said he took les
sons in singing, and one Sunday morning he we ni
up into his fathers garret to practice alone by him
self. When in full play he was suddenly sent for
by the old gentleman.
..This ie pretty conduct," said the father, "pretty
employment for the son of pious parents to be Jaw
ing boards on the Sabbath morning, loud enough to
be heard by all the neighbors. :Sit down and take
your book."
cclec.. - 9 - ziactDa 62)c)c),
THIRD EXPLORATION TOUR,
The expedition to the Rocky Mountain,' under
the command of Capt. J. C. Fremont, of the G. S.
Army, being the third c tploring tour of that officer,
left Westport on the 2Gth of June. Capt. Fre
mont is assisted by two'junior °Meets of the Tope
grephiell corps, and employs eighty men. The de
sign of this expedition is to complete (lie survey of
(ho plains and mountains intervening between tha
- western boundary and the Padifir, heretofore par
fiery ecreirplhihed by the Exploring Squadron and
the two forinci• expeditions of Capt. FreMont. As
for as we can learn', this party will proceed to en
vcy the Arkansas River twits source, after comple
ting which, the party will be divided. One division
will then return hiway of the head of the Rio del
Plor:e, ::cough the country of the Comanche In
diana, on the sources of the Neil riv'er; arid by the
low waterri of the Arkeniinli. The Main divisions
antler Capt. Fremont, will cross the Colored°, com
plete the survey of the Great Salt Lake, and pene
trate by the waters of Mary's river, which flows
westwardly through upper California, in the win-'
ity of the 42nd degree panda of latitude / and is
lest in a lave a the eastern base of the California
mountains. It is believed from a point on Mary's .
rivet', some days journey from its mouth, the head
of the Sacrimento may be reached in two days
travel. 'rho rani° then by which Cupt. Fremont
proposes to penetrate to :he Pacific is the shortest
and most direct from the lower Missouri--of this
the portion from the Arkansas, to' the head of the
Sacrunento, about 654) miles in dtstance—is yet:
unexplored Ly the white man, and generally deeig
noted en the great California desert.' None of
its waters, excepting the Colorado, reach the ocean'
--they are absorbed or disappear by evaporation.
After passing the winter among the settlements'
of Upper California, the exploring party will, it'
if the country be found practicable, pass round ly
the lower route front California, crossing the Colo- ,
rade below the groat Kennion,' and return to the
Arkansas by the waters of the Gila and Juan, large
tributaries of the lower Colorado, which Ittilr• thsite
141 7: u ii` sc e e . : kw in h :the Vs d n i : s r c k i:O . —d r
y .. 4;
of a nevi end stioight rood to . both Oregon and '
California, passing for the most part through our
own territory, diininishin7 the distance some 3 or
1 400 hundred miles, and the tone two months.—
The country to the right and loft will bo examined' .
and its geography, at present a blank, setnewhat
understood. The importance of these contempla
' ted explorations is very great—every confidence is
reposed in the energy and ability of the commend
ing officer. We shall hope for their success, and'
look anxiously for their safe returnn towards the
closo of the yvir 1845.—( Western (Ito.) Ea•pos
itor.)
Axe?nen ell A LL. Z. -Boston, the Old Ra t
cer, is spin in the field. The owners propose to
run him next full over the Pittsburg emir. for
$lO,OOO.
To run twc of II get the same fall, 3 year,
old, against the get of nay horsO in America, fur
$5,000, half furlint, two mile heat; and to match .
ono of his get, two years old, (the only one he has
of that cge) to run tho fall after they ere three
years old, two mile heats, for $5,000, against oaf
ono of the sew age; . and two of hie get, now one
year old, against the get of any horse, of the earns
age, over the name course, for the rams BUM, the
fall after they are three years old, two mile heats
making in all a colt's main of five at f , 5,000 each
and $lO,OOO on the odd light besides tite match
above proposed. The above proposals to be closed'
in forty days."
ri"Who is that gintleman in black, who !Aril
so benevolent that I um certain he'd think it no sin,
to borrow the keys of heaven from St. Peter, and
let in all that would ask him." This was asked by.
an frislt peasant of n citizen of "beautiful Cork;
on the occasion of a great temperance procsssion.
“'S'hut's rlthor Matthew, the rather of Temper.
;ince," 'ills the iteply..
"And three marching after him—who ire they?"
"They ere the 'Sons of Temperance.'"
"Be toy word, then," said the peasant, fath•
.
er
r of timpirance has an ex 'emir. family of his own
consiikring, that he has talicit the vows of celihacy
We remember being at a conference meeting;
once in Vanlieland,whtm one of the deacons
,came
round asking people if they wanted salystiort,.
Near us sal a butcher's boy of nineteen years old,
about as amenable to ealvation as a lamb in his
hands would have been to mercy.
“Do you Want salvation!" said the deacon, look:
ing into his brutal fare..
"'No, darn you--I want Sal Skinner, and the.
aezton wont lit mg take lace out till meetin'u all
over." •
Then was the time we rotered 'some.'— New Y.
Alta.
C1111.111189.-Of all aights which con soften on
karnumize the heart of man dime in none that ought
ao auwly to roach it na that of innocent children.
enjoying the Itsppineas which is their proper and
natural portion.
Gaon Fon it in.—At one of our fashionable mi
tering places recently happened a cell-important
foreigner, who upon hearing . the dinner bell ring at
half-past 3 o'clock, tclaimed:
.. Is it possible that you dine at this early hour ..
.
in this country ! Why. I've not been used to din
ner unta6 or 7 o'clock in London."
Our second table folks dine here very late
was the reply of a Yankee present.