Newspaper Page Text
..' lEtiiittlfittt4st .."i'44ot.',.'
VOL. 5--NO. 41.1
Ij ILL be sold at public sale, on the
premises, on Monday the 2611, iuet.
at 12 o'clock 3r.
The one-third of 54 Acres of
Situate in Franklin township, Adams coun
ty, adjoining lands of Hugh Scott, William
M'Clellan and others--to be sold as the Es
tate of NA AC Nortxs, deceased. The im
provemcins on said property are
;;;;IVa one and a half story
G II OIT SF ,
stab e, &c. with water quite convenient.—
Terms made known on day of sale, and at
tendance given by
JOS! AII FEJUtEE, Adrit'r.
J:ltmary 6, 16i:35. te*-40
vutatt - r aatt+
•pursdance of an order of the Orphans'
Court of Admits county, to rte directed,
I will expose to public stile, at the Court
house, in the Borough of Gettysburg, on
Tuesday the 27th (lay of January inst. at
1 o'clock r. !it., a certain
TRACT ®r LAND,
Containing 31,0 Acres, more or less, adjoin
ing land of James APAllister, Peter .Frey,
and others--on which are erected a two.
• story WEATHMBOARDED
lif 0 s
Log Stable, two springs of water, and an
excellent orchard—late the Estate of JouN
W. HAGEN, deceased.
January 6, 1835. is-40
G A.UWEN WEEDS.
Blood Beet, White Head Lettuce,
Sugar do. Early curled do. do.
White Onion, Specled do. do.
Yellow do. Long Scarlet Ruilibli,
Red do. Savoy Cabbage,
Orange Carrot, Early York do.
Early Horn do. Cayenne Pepper,
Red do. Double Peppergrass,
Long Cucumber, Summer Savory,
For sole at the Drug store of
Dr. J. GILBERT, Gettysburg.
• January 6, 1835. tf-40
Estate of Thomas Griest, dec'd.
ALL persons indebted to the Estate o
THOMAS GRIEST, late of Lati
more township, Adams county, deceased,
will make payment to the subscribers without
delay. And all persons having claims or
demands against the Estate of said deceased,
are hereby notified to make known the same
to the subscribers without delay. .
The Executors both reside in Latimore
township, Adams county.
ISAAC TIJDOR, "" E ,
GIDEON GRIEST, x rs.
December 16, 18:34
ALL persons indebted to the Estate of
PETER MARSHALL, late of Ber-
wick township, Adams county, deceased,
will make payment to the subscriber with.
out delay. And all persons 'having claims
or demands against the Estate of said de
ceased, are hereby notified to make known
the seine to the subscriber, without delay.
The Administrator resides in Conowago
township, Adams County, Pa.
JOHN MARSHALL, Adm'r.
Dec. 0, 1834. 6t-36
ROWAND'S TONIC MIXTURE,
OR VEGETABLE FEBRIFUGE.
A Cure for the Fever and Ague.
THIS article is offered by the proprietor
as a certain and lasting cure for the
Fever and Ague, having been thoroughly
tested in the cure adult harassing disease.
It contains neither Arsenic, Barks, or Mer
cury, or any article unfriendly to I he human
constitution. It acts as a gentle laxative,
useful also in cases of debility of stomach
and bowels, &c. For further particulars
see bills and certificates accompanying each
For sale at the Drug Store of
Dr. J. GILBERT.
Gettysburg, Nov. 25, 1834. 4t-34
SNII A I M'S PANACEA—For the cure of
scrorula, or. king's evil, syphilitic and
mercurial diseases, rheumatism, ulcerous
sores, white swellings, diseases of the liver
and skin, general debility, &c. Also,
SWAIM'S VERMIPUGE—an excellent
article for worms. For sale at the Drug
DR. J. GILBERT, Gettysburg.
December 9, 1834. if—;36
in ACASSAR OlL.—Rowland's Mame.
IT -la sar Oil to beautify and promote the
growth of the hair. For sale at the Drug
Store of • Dr. J. GI LB E RT.
Gettysburg, Dec.. 9; 1834. ' tf-36
IWORM TEA—For sale at the Drug
store of DR. J. GILBER'F.
Gettysburg, Dec.,9, 1834. tf-36
E IER4TLIS—A largo - quantity re
" • ceived and for sale at the Drug store of
DR. J. GILBERT, Gettysburg.
December 9,1834. - tf—:36
Expeditiously executed at the Star Office.
-"With sweetest flowers enricli'd.
From various gardens cull'd with care."
God and the Bible every where the same.
How sweet to rest the weary soul,
When labor bows our feeble frame;
And find, in lands remote and near,
God and tin. Bible stilt the ElOallea
I launch upon the ocean wave,
And view the wonders of the deep—
old its surges mountain high,
As o'er its breast fierce tempests sweep
I view its billows calm to rest, '
And gently sleeping, quiet; tame,—
And midst these changes, joy to find
God and the Ilible still the same.
On shores remote in other climes,
'Tenth other skies and stars I roam,
When strangers only greet my eyes,
Far distant from my native home.
But yet, though new each scene appears,
And men of different tongue and name;
One thing is sweet, and 'Bs to rind
God and the Bible still the Sall/C.
Though nature wears a diffbrent form,
And shows a difli.rent drapery too—
And every , bird, and fish, and head,
Presents a form peculiar, new:
Still, midst this ever constant change
That runs throughout all nature's frame,
One thing is sweet, and 'tis to find
God and the Bible still the same.
Yes, sweet to think, that, though I roam
'Neath burning slum, Crpolar snows,
In lands where night and darkness reign,
Or where truth's lamp with clearness glows
Midst all the change that nature knows,
And change of men of different name--
The soul can upward look and find
God and the Bible still the same.
Stern winter comet'', with his frozen breath,
And brow all lowering, and black with storm;
Re shaketh from his locks the blights of death,
And darkness mantled' round his awful form
fie walks, in terror, on the deep, dark sea,
And with him go his ministers of wrath,
Which sweeping onward, uncontrolled, and free,
Fling fearful ruin round their rapid path.
lie sitteth, enow.robod, on an icy throne,
That rises beetling o'er the northern pole;—
He looked': lo! the world is all his own,
And joy shoots wildly through his horrid soul.
But the spring will come,
And the glad young year,
And the soft green fields
Fresh flowers shall wear.
And the blue skies laugh,
And the earth be gay,
And the sun go forth,
On his joyous way.
And the redbreast chirp,
And the skylark sing,
And the soul of the world
Shall be glad in the spring.
DYING FOR LOVE.
To turn stark-fools and subjects fit
For sport of boys and rabble wit.—/ludibras.
Dying for love is a very silly thing. It
answers no one good end whatsoever. It is
poetical—romantic, perhaps immortalizing;
but, nevertheless, it is silly, and oftentimes
exceedingly inconvenient. I have been
pretty near it six or seven times, but, thanks
to my obstinacy!—(for which, indeed, I
ought to be thankful, seeing I possess a very
considerable portion of that unyielding es
sence,) 1 have contrived to keep death from
the door, and despair from the sanctuary of
my thoughts. I cannot, in fact, believe that
half of those who have the credit (/ should
say dis-credit) of dying for love have really
deserved it. .A man fixes his affections on
a piece of cold beauty—a morsel of stony
perfection—or on one far above him in rank
and fortune—or on an equal, who has unfor
tunately a lover whom she prefers. Well !
he becomes melancholy; takes cold upon it,'
and dies. But this proves noThing; lie might
have died if his passion had been returned,
or if he had never loved at all. The fate of
my friend is a case in point. He
was deeply enatnoured of a very beautiful,
bid adamantine lady, and, as a matter of
course, grew, very low-spirited and very
miserable. He did not long survive; and
as nnother matter of course, it was given out
that he died for love.
As the world seemed to think it sounded
better than saying that his death was occa
sioned by drinking cold water immediately
after walking ten miles under a burning sun,
I did not contradict the report, although I
had good grounds for so doing, and it be
came very generally believed. Some aver
that Leander died of love, "because, (they
say) if that Hero had not been on the other
side of the Hellespont, he would not have
been drowned—argal, ho died ;or love."—
These are your. .primary-causemen I Now
am a plain•spolten fellow, and am more apt
to draw natural than romantic conclusions
—argot, I say he died of the cramp, or from
being carried away by the rapidity of the
stream: although I know at the same time,
that is not the current opinion. I am no
poet, and therefore take no poetic licences:
the romantic do; and I am quite willing to
let Common Sense decide between us. Let
me, however," not be misundersteod; I argue
not on the impossibility, but on the folly and
inconsistency of dying for love. That it has
occasionally happened, I am well aware. I
remember Marian when she was as
lovely and lively a girl as ever laid a blush
ing cheek on a snowy pillow, and sank' into
dreams of innocence and joy. I remember
her too, when the rose wa., fading from her
cheek, and solace and happiness had vanish
ed forever from her forsaken heart. There
was the impress of blighted hope upon her
brow—the record of a villain's faithlessness
upon her sunken cheek. Her eye told of
long suffering, and her constant but melan
choly smile evinced how patiently she en
dured it. Pay by day the hue of mortality
'waxed fainter and fainter; her beautiful form
wasted away, she became at lust like a spi
rit of heaven dwelling among, but scarcely
holding communion with, the sons and
daughters of the earth. The tatter part of
EY mozzinfr WRITE LEIDIDLIITON, EZzaion. ruzzamEnn, AND 15.7.0P7.1ET0P..
"I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF MY LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP MINE HONOR FROM CORRUPTION."-SHAHS.
aawwlraMPLICU 9 2: 4 ciftQ w tetipaimalr e a,, , aQwwkaatx aaaaa%
her life seemed an abstraction—n dream—
an unconsciousness of what was passing a•
round her. The sister of S—, (of him
who had broken the vows that wore pledged
with such seeming fidelity to (llanan,) ab
horred her brother's infidelity, and was finid
er than ever of the poor heart•brokon gift•
She sincerely pitied her,
Fur pitcc renbuil, .uro in gentil berte;
and sought, by every means in her power,
to revive her past energies, and recall her
to lost happiness and peace. But it was too
late; although she complained not, her spirit
was broken forever; and in the efliat of rais
ing herself to give a last kiss to her friend,
she sank back and died without a struggle
or a sigh. There were some lines in u pe
riodical work, shortly atter her death, evi
dently written by a person acquainted with
the parties, which I think, may nut impro.
perly be inserted here.
There's a stain on thee that can never fade, _
Though bathed in the mists of future years,
And this world will be but a world of shade,
Of sorrow, and anguish, and bitter tears.
Thou last seen a flow'ret pine away,
That loVed by thee, would have blossom'd fair,
And thou shalt meet with a worse decay,
And wither and die in thy soul's despair.
Like the summer's breath was the gentle tale
With which thou told'st of thy love awl truth,
But thy falsehood came like the wintry gale,
And blighted the llow'ret in its youth.
It ham sunk to earth; but no tear nor sigh
Has e'er betrayed thy bosom's pain.
Yet a day will come when thou woold'st dio
To call it back from the grave again.
litul'st thou cherish'd it with the smile that won
lts fadeless love in Spring's bloaming hours;
lisul thy love beamed o'er it like the sun,
Whose rays are life to the drooping llow'rs;—
It had still been fair, awl thou had'st uow
Been calm as the lake that sleeps in rest;
But the ray of joy shall ne'er light thy brow,
Nor pleasure dwell in thy lonely breast.
For the lovely one whom thou Iciest forlorn,
A deep lament shall be;
But no heart shall sigh, and no bosom mourn,
And no eye e'er weep for thee.
Thou wilt pass away to the realms of death
In solitude and gloom;
And a curse will cling to thy parting breath,
As awful us thy doom.
But this, and a few other extreme cases,
I consider as mere exceptions to my general
rule. Now, supposing, as I have said be
fore, that a man dotes upon a beauty with.
out a heart:—What in the name of reason
should induce him to die for one who does
not care a rush for him? There may be
others who would have more feeling and
less coquetry, with quite as many personal
charms. Or, Stiriprip 7 tH-* !• • !,,:d
to one far above
rank, or both. ih•
fore, waste away S.
dow of himself? A ch;!ti •
a star as he does a I , utt,•l-i(v, f•. 1.,
sun.round as he does his hoop, but' his non.
success would not, as nurses call it, "be the
death of him." Again: let us imagine that
a man places his affections on an equal, and
that she has a stronger yearning towards
another. Still 1 say, there is no harm done.
Let him think (as I should do) that there
may he other females with quite as many
outward attractions, and more discernment.
have no notion of dying to please any one
I have had too much trouble to support ex
istence to think of laying it down upon such
grounds. I should deem it quite enough to
perish for the sake of one who really loved
me: for one who did not, I should be sorry
to suffer a twinge of rheumatism in my ear,
or the lumbago. "have read of a man who
actually fancied he was fading away—"a
victim to the tender passion:"—but who af
terwards discovered that his complaint was
caused by abstaining too low , r' from his ne
cessary food. This was a sad full from the
drawing-room window of romance into the
area of common sense and real life; but h.,
was forced to make the best of it; so he took
his meals oftener and tliought no more about
it. He actually became a suitor to another,
was married, and now, I have no doubt,
thinks just as I do on the subject of dying
Ere I part with you, "my renders all !"
take notice of these my last words, and fare
well directions, which I give in sincerity of
.heart, and out of anxiety for your welfare.
Ye who have never been in love, but who
are approaching insensibly towards it—Co
rydons of sixteen !—"A ppolines imberbes"
come home for the holidays! take heed! Ye
are entering on a little-known and perilous
sea. Look to your bark lest she founder.
Bring her head round, and scud away belore
the wind into the port of IndifTerenee. There
is danger in the very serenity that sleeps up
on the waves; there is faithlessness in the
lightest breath that curls them. Ye who
are in love—ye who are already on the de
ceitful ocean—listen to me! Look out for
squalls! Beware of hurricanes! Have a care
of approaching storms! There may be an
enemy's ship nearer than you wot of. Just
give a salute, and sheer off to Bachelor's
harbor. And ye, the last and most pitiable
class of all, keep plenty of good wine aboard;
so that when a sigh is rising in the throat
you may choak it with a bumpei; and in case
of tears flowing, depend upon it that port will
,the best oye.water. yrr***-.
Whenever, (said Dr. Johnson,) chance
bringswithin my observation a knot ofyoung
ladies busy at their needles, I consider my.
self as in the school of virtue, and thou'gh I
have no extraordinary skill in plain-work or
embroidery, I look upon their operations
with as much satisfaction as their governess,
because F regard them as providing a sane
"teary itizitiust the most dangerous ensnarers
of the soul, by enabling them to exclude
idleness from their solitary moments, and,
with idleness her attendant train of passions,
fancies, chimera% fears, sorrows and desires.
A young man idle, an old man needy.
wilght dilventowe in Paris.
"Ha! ha! Aro you still at your post?"
"Hero we are, both of us. Have you seen
m ?" •
"Yes the rt.e! , edrel. I have made a last
attempt to get from him -ortieles we
seek, but with no more success than before.
Now, since violent measures have become
indispensable, let us carry our plan into of
Kirkmann, courage, my lad! Twelve
o'clock will strike directly, and then for our
Mall. Follow him till he reaches some ob
scure and dark street, and then with your
fingers on your triggers, wrest from him
his ill gotten property. No relenting now!
swear to have no pity on him.
'Tut well. I shall watch your opera
tions from the neighborhood.
The three individuals who thus convers
ed together had not the appearance of ordi
nary ruffians. The one who directed the
enterprise seemed to be one of those stout
built, fresh looking, well clad citizens, that
one meets so oflen on 'Change, with a hand•
kerchief full tinder his arm, or empty in his
hand. Something ungainly in his attitude,
and a twist in his shoulder, seemed to point
him out as following some mean occupation,
but which tor fear of error, we shall not yet
uttempt to designate.
Ki/kMILIIII, the smallest of the two others,
had a figure of the most grotesque charac
ter. A very prominent nose curving up
wards towards the eyes an I apparently made
for the purpose of supporting a pair of spec
taeles,was guarded below by a mouth flanked
by a row o f large and thinly scattered teeth
—while his back was ornamented by a bawl)
of large dimensions. It could be see- uy
the light of a street lamp, which bwo.ig to
and fro in the evening breeze, that the short
sighted dwarf was gazing eagerly at the
pistol in his right hand, with an expression
that seemed to say, "Now, let him come on,
and we shall settle our account with him."
The third member of the group of
a striking contrast to both the others:—
Long, lank and pale, with his lett arm rais•
ed as if to point his weapot. at the breast of
some giant, he was a perfect lac simile of a
gibbet, a ijight tremor could be seen to run
through Itheframe from ham to time, bu
‘ , 1••:' r or cold, %ccan
. I.i railer St. Martin,
slowly issued a dozen individuals. As each
one made his appearance our two acquain
(micas stepped from the alley in which they
had ensconced themselves but as often dis
appointed, were obliged again to betake
themselves to their hiding place. •
At length their eager eyes lighted on the
man they were in search of. He seemed to
be a young buck of the first order, frizzled
and perfumed, and his throat embellished
with a cravat of great amplitude. He plan
ted himself in the middle of the pavement,
and humming, a fashionable air, was soon
lost in one of the thousand streets that branch
out from la rue Grenetat.
lie pushed forward at first at a quick
pace, as if wishing to avoid hem" overtaken
by the footsteps which sounded behind him;
but soon.. changing this appearance of fear
to ()oldness, he stopped suddenly. and gave
those following him an opportunity to conic
up with him.
"Stand!" cried one of the voices; "your
money or your life!"
"Your money or your life!" and the bar•
rely of two pistols glistened under his nose.
"One word and you are a dead nian,"
added both the voices.
"On the honor of a gentleman, I have
nothing to-give you. I hate nothing about
me but this watch, and it IS only pinchback."
We don't want your trinkets, genuine or
fidse. Your money or your Mu, what
we seek "
"But unfortunately I have just lost my
three last francs at an ecarte."
"Off with your coat, then!"
"Content yourselves with my hat, gentle
men, for 1 have lately made the most enor
mous sacrifices to clothe myself like a gen
tleman. My good mother-has drained her.
self of all her little savings to pay my tailor's
"Liar! off with your coat immediately,
or else—Down with-that cane in the first
"Gentlemen, for mercy's aike—"
"Do you hesitate?"
"There it is, gentlemen—my exquisite
black coat, if my tailor speaks truth you
can get a hundred and twenty-five francs
for it any where."
"Now your waistcoat!"
"Do you' mean then to send me home en
"Precisely. Off now with your panta-
loons, and quickly too!"
'.oh, gentlemen, they are my last pair—
have some mercy, for heaven's sake!"
"Now that you are plucked of your fine
feathers, on . with you, and don't dare to look
The poor wretch so strangely misused,
did not wait fora repetition of the injunction.
instantly took. up his march, aided in
his course •by the fresh air of the morning,
and a smart . blow from a switch , which made
his flesh tingle'as ho turned the cornet of
the next street.
He arrived at home, bathed in perspira
tion, from the vtolence of his exertions.—
How he slept that night is not known, but
A "it EPRISAIM-.ItAIIIER!
. • l ied twelve
••ti U. guard!' repeated
on his rising the next morning a note was
put into his hand, couched in the following
"Convinced that you were as great a cow
ard as swindler, I last night posted my two
apprentices, Paul and Kirkmann, in the
street through which you were to pass, each
armed with a pistol, cut out of a cake of
chocolate. "Ica catail casily.bave crushed
to pieces their weapons, which I had Caused
previously to be inspected by my friend the
commissary of police 7 ---you have preferred
returning me the clothes winch I had fur.
nished yeu, and the payment for which you
had till then evaded. You have done well,
and our accounts are now squared.
"Keep yourself warm if you can, and ac
cept the assurances oftho respect with which
I have the honor to be, , Your very humble
MIS C E L LAN EOUR.
The silvery snow!—the silvery snow!—
Like a glory it falls on the fields below ;
And the trees with their diamond branches appear
Like the fairy growth of some magical sphere;
soft as music, and wild and white,
It glitters and floats in the pale moonlight,
And spimgles the river and fount as they flow,
Oh! who has not loved the bright, beautiful snow?
The silvery snow, and the crinkling frost— .
How merry we go when the earth seems lost;
Like spirits that rise from the dust of time,
To live in a purer and holier clime!—
A new creation without a stain—
Lovely as Heaven's own pure domain!
But ah! like the many fair hopes of onr years,
It glitters awhile—and then melts into tears!
TUE IVORTD OF A Goon EDUCATION.—
Of tho dying Monarch, Don Pedro, the Lon.
dou Chronicle says,, that he has to the last
maintained his high and decided character.
In a conversation with the physician in at
tendance on him, shortly before his resigna
tion, he inquired whether he had any fami
ly. The physician having answered that
he had a large family, "then," said Pedro,
"above all things take care that they re•
ceive a good education. As a dying man;
whose words ought to hatie some weight, I
entreat you to attend to this. For myself
-and brother Miguel, our education was iso
thoroughly neglected, that on reaching man
hood, we were in a state of brutish ignor
ance. Having been, by the incidents of my
life thrown among men of cultivated minds
and experience, I discovered my own defi
ciencies, and endeavored, as far as was in
my power, to avail myself of such opportu
nitiesttsisiaered for my improvement. But
after itikticltal etrumnstatices led me to
discover my defects, 1 was still obliged to
nct according to my imperfect information
'and under th influence oferroneous impres.
sions. Mature age brings with it corres
ponding duties, and a man finds to his cost
that it is too late to gain much that might
have been acquired with ease in youth."—
This anecdote we have' received from a
some° which may he relied, on, and it hi
strongly characteristic of the man, and
proves bpi* much Portugal will lose by his
IGNORANCE AND PRIDE GO TOGETHER.-
It is with nations as with individuals; those
who itnow.the least of others,think the high
est of themselves. The Chinese pretend to
despise European ingenuity, but they can
not mend a common watch. When it is
out of order they say it is dead, and barter
it away for a living one. The PerSians
think that European and American mer
chants, who come to them to trade, live on
a small harren island in the northern waters;
for why should ffrey come to us, say they,
to buy things, if they can get thernat home?
RECEIPT FOR A WIFE. 7 —Good temper,
health, good understanding, agreeable phy
siognomy, figure, good connexions, domestic
habits, resources of amusement, good spirits,
conversation, talents, elegant manners—
A TRUE STORY.—There lived some yenrs
ago, in the town of —, in Connecticut, a
man who was much addicted to the practice
of converting his neighbors property to hits
own use and benefit without if or and. The
clergyman of the town auspectinghim of
making too free with his hey, had one night
concealed himself in his burn with his dark
lanthern. The thief soon appeared and ty
ing up a large bundle, had just left the pre
mises when the Reverend owner, instead of
bawling out, "You scoundrel you! what do
you mean by stealing my hay!' disengaged
the candle from the !anthem and dexterious
ly applied it to the combustible load. The
bundle was soon in a light blaze, and the
unlucky fellow, suspecting that he was pur
sued by some person with a light, laid his
feet to the ground with uncommon agility.
But it was in vain to escape the pursuing fire.
The blaze increased brighter as he ran;
seemed to his terrified imagination to come
nearer; till venturing to look around to dis
cover the extent of his danger, he perceived
to his aStonishment,.that the stolen hay was
on fire. How it came so puzzled him not a
little. But as conscious guilt assisted his
natural credulity, he settled down upon the
conclusion that the fire wns sent from hea
ven to admonish him of his transgression.
Full of this alarming notion he gave himself
no rest until he had gone to the parson, and
made' confession of his crime, and related
the supposed extraordinary and terrible
warning from heaven. The Reverend gen'.
tlemao humored . his credulity, under the
idea that it might reform his life.
not mistaken; for the blazing hay had made
so deep an impression on the fellow's mind
that from henceforth he forsook his evil
course, became a valuable member of socie
ty, and was united to the flock of the judi
cious clergyman who had assisted so mater
[WHOLE NO. 240.
rially•in his reformation. He finally dill&
an honest man, in the firm belief of the tn.;
terposition •of Providence in setting fire le
the stolen hay. The parson kept the secret
till the poor man was laid in the dust,hut
then even the clerical tongue could ng long..
er resist the desire of communicatino.ea Sc.
rious an incident. ,
JEFFERSON ALSO THE
51r. JetMrs= was President of the United
States his simplicity was oritreqv,atlrl3-19t . :
his economy. The diplomatic agents or,
foreign governments, on their introductiOtt
to him, were often embarrassed, and some,
times mortified, at the entire absence of elk.
quette with which they were received:- His . .
arrivals at the seat of government, and de
partures therefrom, were so timed and con?
ducted as to be unobserved and unattended.
His inflexibility on this point could never be`
overcome, and he was finally permitted to
pursue his own course in this respect,undis.
turbed by any manifestations of popular feel-
ing. His uniform mode of riding was on
horse back, which was daily and always un...
attended. In one of these solitary excur. -
sums, while passing a stream of water, he
was accosted by a feeble beggar, who im.
plored his assistance to transport him and his
baggage. He immediately mounted the .
beggar behind him, and carried him over—!
on perceiving he had neglected his wallet,
he as good Immoredly re•crossed the stream
and brought it over:to him.
This act of kindness, which was indeed
no more than Christian charity enjoins; at
though much more than most onus practice,
was exactly conformable to the um:talent*.
t ions benevolence of the whole life of Thom.
as Jefferson. No man bad warmer friends
or deserved them better. The civilized
world paid him homage, as a stateemaistal
philosopher; but it gratified him more, !ohs
loved as a man.-Rayner's Life of jeffersow
PIMENTO TREE.---One of the most ut
ble trees of Jamaica is the pimento, wbieb
flourishes spontaneously and in greatidam.
dance on the north side of the island; its tar
morons white blossoms, mixing with the
dark green foliage, and with the slightest
breeze di ff using ar ound the most delicious
fragrance, give a beauty and charm in ne.
ture rarely equalled, and of which he who
has not' visited the shady arbors and perfuta.
ed groves of the tropics can have bide coo.
ception: This lovely tree, the very leaf of
which bruised,emita a fine aromatic odour,
nearly as powerful as that of the spice itself,
has been known to grow to the height of
from thirty to forty feet,exceedtogly straight
and having for its base the spinous ridge of
a rock, eight or ten feet above the surface of
the hill or mountain. A single tree will
produce 150 of the raw, or 100 pounds of
the dried fruit. The indigenous forest and
even exotic trees ofJamaica, grow to a pro.
d;gious height; the palmetto royal is fie.
quently found one hundred and forty
the vast trunks of the cuba, (wild cotton
tree) and fig trees, often measure ninety feet
from the base to the limbs, and the thank of
the former, when hallowed out, has tr unk
a boat capable of holding one hundred per
sons. Thera is a great variety of timber for
agricultural and household purposes, 'aad
some exquisitely beautiful cabinet woods.
A NOVEL CAsE.---A young girl by the
name of Catharine Dingwall, wag, tried be
fore- the Quarter Sessions in NeW:Brime.
wick, on Saturday last, for stealing a horse.
The history of the transaction is briefly as
follows. The. girl is from Yorkshire, Eng- .
land; where she became attached to a young
Man named-Charles Stewart, who was dri
ven from the house by her father. She
absconded in search of her lover, assumed
men's clothes, and arrived at New York an
a common sailor. From thence she travel
led to Boston, then to Philadelphia, and a
way to New Orleans. She twain returned
to New York—came over to N ow . jersey—.
and being wearied, heart-broken, and dejec
ted, she stopped at a barn with the intention
of committing suicide; but the appearance
'of a horse suggested to her the idea of steal
ing it, that she might thereby incur the pen
alty of death, which was the law for that of
fence in her own country. She was taken
up with the horse near New Brunswick.
W hen put upon her trial, she pleaded guil
ty, and refused to retract it, but her. coun
sel was permitted by the, court to enter a
plea of not guilty, and the case went to a
jury, who brought m a verdictof not guilty.
Such was the sympathy eicited in her case,
and so strong was the belief that the act
was one of frenzy,' and not of deliberate in
tention, that no one appeared against her.
DESPERATE REMEDY FOB A DESPERATE
DISRASE.—They tell a good story of old
Dr. Rand. He was called to visit a hypo
chondriac patient, who fancied she had swal
lowed a mouse. On entering the room, the
lady exclaimed, "Dear Doctor! lam so glad
to see you-1 am in such distress—such
pain! Oh, Doctor! Doctor! I've swalloWeil
a mouse!" "Swallowed—nonsense," replied
the doctor, in hi mild and plea Sent manner.
"Oh, no! doctor!" said the patient, "It is
not nonsense, it is a mouse—a live mouse - -
he ran down my threat when I was asleep
with my mouth open, and I feel him now,
creeping about my stomach, and trying to
gnaw out. Oh! doctor, do prescribe some
thing quick, or I shall die." "Prescribe,"
said the doctor, "yes, I'll prescribe some.
thing that will cure you in a minute,
~W hat is it, doctor? what is it? take any
thing you order." "Well, then; my dear ,
madam, swallow a cat—if that don't cms
you, nothing wal." It was efeettolr,