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THE GARLAND.
With sweetest flowers enrich'd
From various gardens cull'd with care."
SWEAR NOT.
•.Swenr not at all; neither by Heaven, for it is
God's throne; nor by tho earth, for it is his
footstool."
OM swear not by your God, vain man!
Thy mightiest strength is frail;
Thy longest life is but a span,
A brief, a mournful tale;
Be from thy lip Hosannas heard,
Nor oaths or songs profane;
Remember, He bath said the word,
"Take not my name in vain."
And swear not by the holy Heaven!
It is the Almighty's throne;
Nor by the burning stars of even,
For they are all his own;
Rather, arise at early day,—
Look on the glorious sun,—
Swear not! but bow thee down and pray
To him,—the Holy One.
Swear not by earth, the seautenus earth,
The footstool of his power!
He gave its every glory birth,
In the primeval hour;
List to the loud rebukes that roll
From ocean, earth, and air;
Let the deep murmurs move thy soul
To worehip—not to swear.
Oh! ewoar not by the blessed one
Whom God, the Father, gave,
His well beloved and only son,
A sinning world to save;
But weep that thou so oft baa bent
A worldly shrine before;
Turn to thy Saviour and repent,
Depart and sin no more.
And swear not by thine own weak name,
For thou art but the slave
Of pain and sorrow, sin and shame,
Of glory and the gravo.
Thy boasted body is but clay,
Born of the dust you tread,
And soon a swift approaching day
Shall lay thee with the dead!
ralzo(oMi'la373(DlVOo
From the Knickerbocker.
THE POOR Law-srEn.
EM:I=I
I had taken my breakfast, and was wait
ing for my horse, when parsing up and
down the piazza, I saw a young girl seated
near the window, evidently a visiter. She
was vary pretty, with auburn hair and blue
eyes, and dressed in white. I had seen
nothing of the kind since I had left Rich.
mond, and at that timo I was too mutt, of n
boy not to be struck by female beauty.—
She was so delicate end dainty looking; - so
different'from tlio hale, buxom, brown girl
of the woncl4 and then her white dress!
It way 'dazzling! Never was a poor youth
so taken by surprise and suddenly bewitch
ed. My heart yearned to know her, but
how was Ito accost her? I had grown
wild in the woods, and had none of the habi
tUdes of polite life. Had she been . like
Peggy Pugh, et Sally Pigham, or any of
my leather dressed belles of the pigeon
roost, I.should have approached her with
out dread;. nay, bad she been as fair as
Short's daughters with their looking glass
lockets, I should not have hesitated; but
that white dress, and those auburn ringlets
and blue eyes, and delicate looks quite
(Jaunted while they rammed me. I don't
know what put it into my bead, but I
thought I would kiss her? It would take a
long acquaintance to arrive at such n boon,
but I might se;zo upon it by sheer robbery.
Nobody knew me here. I would jus: step
in and snatch a kiss, m oun t m y b or s a an d
ride off. She would not be the worse tor it;
and that kiss—oh, I sbould.die if I did not
get it.
I gave no time for the thought to co(.1,
but entared the house and stepped - tightly
into the room. She •was seated with her
back to the door, looking out el the win
dow and (lid not hear my approach. I tup.
ped her chair, and she turned and looked
up. I snatched as sweet a kiss ns ever was
stole, and vanished in a twtokling. The
next moment I was on horseback galloping
homeward, my heart tingling at what I had
done.
After a vai iety of amusing adventures,
Ringwood attends the study of the law, in
an obscure settlement in Kentucky whore he
delved night and day. Ralph pursues his
study, occasionally argues at a debating
society, and at length becomes quite a go
nius in the eyes of the married ladies of the
village. •
I called to take tea ono evening with one
of these ladies, when to my surprise, and
somewhat to my confusion, I found here
the identical blue•eyed little beauty vvhom
I had so audaciously kissed. I was formal.
ly introduced to her, but neither of us be
trayed any signsAif previous acquaintance,
except by blushing to the eyes. While
tea was getting ready, the lady of the house
went out of the room to.give some directions
and left us alone. Heaven and earth!
what a situation! I would have given all
the pittance 1 was worth to be in the deep
est dell (tittle forest. I felt the necessity
of saying something in excuse for my for
mer rudeness. I could not conjure up an
idea, nor utter a word. Every moment
matters were growing worse. I (felt at
once tempted to do as I had done when I
robbed her orthe kiss—bolt from the room
and take to flight; but I was chained to the
spot, for I really longed to gain her good
will. •
At length I Flocked up courage on see
iog her equally confused with myself, and
walking desperately up to her, 1 exclaimed,
"1 have been trying to muster up some.
thing to say to you, but 1 cannot. I feel
lamin a horrible scrape. Do you have
pity on me and help me out of it!"
A smile dimpled upon her mouth and
played among the blushes of her cheek•--
She looked up with a shy, but arch glanre
of the eye, that expressed a volvme of con►
tc recollectrons; we both broke into a laugh,
and from that moment all went well.
Passing the delightful description that
succneded, we proceed ,to the denoument o
Ringwood's love affair - the marriage and
settlment.
That very autumn I was admitted to the
bar, and a month afterwards was married.
We were a young couple, she not above
sixteen, 1 not above twenty; and both al
most without a dollar in the world. The
establishment which we set up was suited to
our circumstances, a low houso with two
small rooms, a bed, a table, a half dozen
knives and forks, a half dozen spoons,—
every thing by half dozens,—a little delph
ware, every thing in a small way; we were
so poor but then so happy.
We had not been married many days
when a court was held in a country town,
about twenty five miles off. It was neces
sary for me to go there, and put myself in
the way of business, but how was 1 to go?
I had expended all my means in our estab-
lishment, and then it was hard parting with
my wife so soon after marriage. However,
go 1 must. Money must be made, or we
should have the wolf at the door. I occor•
dinghy borrowed a horse, and borrowed a
little cash, and rode oft from my door, beim
ing my wile standing at it and waving her
hand after me. Her last look so sweet and
becoming, went to my heart. I felt as i
I could go through fire and water for her.
I arrived ,at the county town on a cool
October evening. The inn was crowded
for the court was to commence on the fol•
lowing day.
1 knew no one, and I wondered how I,
stranger and mere youngster, was to make
my way in such a crowd, and get business.
The public room was, thronged with the
idlers of the county, who gathered togeth
er on .such occasions. There was some
drinking going forward, with a great noise
and a little altercation- Just as I entered
the room, 1 saw a rough bully of a fellow,
who was partly intoxicated, strike an old
man. Ho came swaggering by mo and
elbowed me as he past. I immediately
knocked him down, and kicked him into
the street. I needed no better introduction.
I had half a . dozen rough shakes of the
hand and invitations to drink, and found
myself quite a personage in this rough
assemblage.
The next morning, court opened--I took
my sent among the lawyers, but I felt. as a
mere spectator, not having any idea where
business was, to come from. In the course
of the mornimr ' a . man was put to the bar,
charged with passing counterfeit money,
and was asked if he was ready for trial.—
Ile answered in the negative. Ho hod
been confined in a place where there were
no lawyers, and he had not had an opportu•
nity of consulting any. He was told to
choose a counsel from the lawym s present,
and be ready for trial the following day.--
tie loOked around the court and selected
me. I was thunderstruck ! 1 could not
tell why he should make such a choice. I,
a beardless piungster,unpractived at the
bar, perfectly unknown. I telt diffident,
vet delighted, and could have hugged the
rascal,
,Before leaving the court he gave me one
hundred dollars in a boa as n retaining fee.
11 could scarcely .believe yoy senses, it
seemed like a dream. The heaviness of
the fee told but lightly of ti eirm's innocence
—hut that was no afriir olivine. I follow-
ed him to the jail, and learned of him all
OM particulars in -the case, from thence 1
went to the clerk's office, and took minutes
of the indictment. ' I then examined the
laws 3n the subject, and prepared my brief
Cr. WASEEIINVI 1 011 }301771 1 171 Enierop. & 77.077.17./T07..
The liberty to know, to utter, and to argue, freely, t above all other llberttee.”—hlturon
ale,u4:2Lrazawaca.... utwaLeazDzireQJPO)P2crag.sam aeo aacta4.
in my room. All this occupied me until
midnight, when I went to bed and tried to
sleep. It was all in vain. Never in my
life was I more wide awake. A host of
thoughts and fancies kept rushing into my
mind. The shower of gold that had so
unexpectedly fallen into my lap, the idea of
my poor little wife at home, that 1 was to
astonish her with my good fortune. But
the awful responsibility I had undertaken to
speak for the first time in a strange court,
the expectations the culprit had formed of
my talents; all these, and a crowd of simi
lar motions kept whirling through my
mind. I had tossed about all night, fear.
ing morning would find me exhausted and
incompetent—in a word, the day dawned
on me a miserable fellow. •
I got up feverish and nervous. I walked
out before breakfast, striving to collect
my thoughts, and tranquilize my feelings.
It was a bright morning—the air was pure
and frosty-1 bathed my forehead and my
hands in a beautiful running stream, but I
could not allay the fever heat that raged
within. I returned to breakfast, but not to
eat. A single cup of coffee formed my
repast. It was time to go to court, and
went there with a throbbing heart. I be
lieve if it had not been for the thoughts of
my dear little wife in the lonely house, I
should have given back to the man his dol
lars, and relinquished the cause. I took
my seat looking,l am convinced, more like
a culprit than the rogue I was to defend.
When the time canoe fir me to speak,
my heart died within me. I rose embar_
rassed and dismayed, and 'stammered in
opening my cause. I went on from bad to
worse, and felt as if I was going down.—
Just then, the public prosecutor, a man of
talents, but somewhat rough in his practice,
made a sarcastic remark on something 1
bad said. It was like an electric spark,
and rang tingling through every vain, in
my body. In an instant my diffidence was
gone. My whole spirit was in arms. 1
answered with promptness, for I felt the
cruelty of such an attack upon a novice in
my situation. The public prosecutor made
a kind of apology. This for n man of his
redoubtable powers, was a vast concession.
1 renewed iny argument with a fearful
growl, carried the case triumphantly, and
the man was acquitted.
This was the making of me. Every
body was curious to know who this new
lawyer was that had suddenly risen among
them, and bearded the Attorney-General
in the very outset. The story of my debut
at the inn on the preceding evening, when
1 knocked down a bully, and kicked him
out of doors, for striking an old man was
circulated with favorable exaggeration.—
Even my beardless chin and juvenile coun
tenance was in my favor, for the people
gave me far more credit than
. 1 deserved.
The chance business which occurs - at our
courts came thronging in upon me. I was
repeatedly employed in other crinyet;, and
by Saturday night, when the court closed,
I found myself with a hundred and fifty
dollars in silver, three hundred dollars in
notes, and a horse that I afterwards sold
or two hundred dollars more.
Never did a miser gloat more on his mo
ney'and with more delight. I locked the
dour of my room, piled the money in n heap
upon the table, walked around it with my
elbow on the table, and my chin upon my
hands, and gazed upon it. Was I thinking
of my money? No—l was thinking of my
little wife and home.
Another sleepless night ensued, but what
a night of golden fancies and splendid air.
As soon as morning downed, I was up,
mounted the borrowed horse on which I had
come to court, and led the other which I
received as a fee. All the way I was de•
lighting myself with the thoughts of sur
prise I had to store for my wife; for both
of us expected I should spend all the money
I had borrowed, and return in debt.
-
Our meeting was joyous as you may sup.
pose: but I played the part of the Indian
hunter, who, when ho returns from the
chase, never for a time speaks of his sac.
cess. She had prepared a rustic meal for
me, and while it was getting ready, I seat
ed myself at an old fashioned desk in one
corner, and began to count over my money
and put it away. She came io me before I
had finished, and asked me who I had col.
lected the money for?
"For myself to besure," replied 1 with
affected coolness, "I made it at court."
She looked at me tor a moment incredu
lously. I
tried to keep my countenance
and play the Indian, but it would not do.—
My muscles began to twitch, my feelings
all at once gave way, 1 caught her in my
arms, laughed, cried, and danced about the
room like a crazy man. From that time
forward we never wanted money.
From the Richmond Compiler of Nov. 6
CURIOUS CASE Of BIGA.MX.—As a good
deal of interest is felt respecting this af
fair, we have taken some trouble to ascer
tain the facts in the case. We do not wish
to prejudge in this or any other criminal
transaction, but, in justice to our readers,
we submit several facts, which, it is Wheve
ed, are well authenticated.
There is n lady in town who calls her
self Mrs. Marcia Smith, and asserts that
she is the wile of one J. Augustus Smith,
known here as n teacher of penmanship,
under the cognomen of Wellington,
There is evidence of the 0109 l satisfacto
ry nature that Mrs. Smith is the chughter
Of an aged and excellent clergyman at the
north; that she has highly respectable can
nexions in Boston, Liik“,ll, Manchester,
N. H , and Herkimer, N. Y. She has les
timomals of good standing as a christian,
and in all her present affliction she has
manifested an admirable spirit.
She was married to J. Augustus Smith
ten years ago, in Albany, N. Y. Since
then she has travelled much with him as
an associate teacher of penmanship, she be
ing well qualified to teach that and other
branches of practical education. About
two years since, Smith proposed to, go
south, and did so with one Aiken, of whom
we understand, not much good can be said.
At the suggestion of this comrade, Smith
changed his name to Wellington, and more
over by him, it is said, was furnished with
false testimonials, purporting to come from
respectable clergymen, on the strength of
which, with other attifieea, ho (Welling
ton,) won tho confidence and the hand of a
worthy young lady in this city.
Soon after the marriage, the parties visit
ed Boston, %%here Mrs. Smith and another
lady were associated in teaching. A gen
tleman called at their school-room one day
while "Wellington and lady" were in town,
and said in the hearing of Mrs. Sinith--"a
man who once taught penmanship herea.
bouts, by the name of Smith, went to Vir
ginia, changed his name to Wellington,
and has returned with a young girl. They
board at No. 7 Row." Mrs. Smith,
as soon as the first effects of the suhock
passed off, went to the place, saw the young
"Mrs. Wellington," and, incognito, learned
from her own lips all the facts she needed,
and more than she desired for her peace:
With a heroism of heart "which drinks
the blood," she kept the murderous tidings
smothered in her bosom, lest she should
exasperate her brother, and bring down her
aged parents with sorrow to the grave.
Ever since last June •he has known of
this marriage but said nothing. A few
weeks since, while she was pining away
with secret agony, the rumor reached the
ears of her brother-in-law, respecting the
true cause of her private sorrows. He deli
cately, and yet directly demanded if she
knew whether her husband was or was not
married again? She was thus obliged to
tell all. Her friends are not rich, but
they scorned the recreant who could thus
desert the worthy; and, of course, demand
ed that she should cut offal! ties of affi:c
non for him. This was hard. She was a
woman—a wife—a moaser.. As the man
who had won her affections, wbn 44 for
years reciprocated heritiodness, and w!to
was the father of her two children, perhaps
fortunately now dead, she loved him still,
and wished to see him once More. She
rr«.. here alone, with the least possible
prilifibity-?bnly to secure, ;I she could, some
pecuniary aid, as had been promised, and
a final leave, but without the remotest
idea of revenge or prosecution. She
shrinks from this strange and unexpected
notoriety, and has a bold fee() only when
imputations of guilt are hinted. It is be•
heved that great wrong has been commit
ted, and we can only hope that impartial
justice may fall where the guilt lies. For
Mrs. Sthith there is but one source of
consolation. A friend has seen a letter
which she had writen to her husband, in
which she tenderly commends him to the
mercy of God, and for herself pants for the
repose of the grave.
‘Vellingten was arrested on Wednesday.
Yesterday ho was examined before the
Mayor's court; but his case was adjourned
to Monday, before the conclusion of his ex
amination.
REMEDY FOR LIODTNING•-AD account
is published in the New York Sun, in
which two persons are said to have recov
ered from the effects of lightning by the use
of cold water. In the hitter cabe it is said
that "Mrs. Van Be, the wife of a highly
respectable resident of Bergen, near Cor
ners, was struck down by a flash of light
ning apparently dead beyond hope . of re
covery. She was so considered by her
family, and not one of them, nor the neigh
bors who were called in. entertained the
most distant idea but that she had passed
forever to 'that bourne from whence no
traveller retarns.' Preparations were ac•
cordtngly made for laying her out, and
paying the last sad rights to her lifeless re
mains. At least ten minutes had elapsed
after her receiving the shock, when her
brother arrived at the scene of affliction
and sorrow; and fortunately, the paragraph
in the Sun, recommending the application
of cold water, recurred to his mind, and
though without hope, lie proceeded to make
the application as directed in our late par
agraph• The lady was placed upon the
ground.and water poured upon her person.
pailful after pailful, from head to foot; and
to the astonishment and joy of all, she soon
began to exhibit signs of returning anima
tion. The process was continued, and the
restoration soon became perfect; and in an
incredibly sl.ort space of time, she had, to
all appearance, fully and perfectly recover
ed from the effects of the shock which all
had supposed had been irretrievably fatal."
TIIE COST OF GLORY.—The New York
American says that in the inaugural Ad
dress of Dr. Mott, recently delivered to .his
course on Surgery at . the University of
New York, it wii6 related of Baron Lar.
ray, the friend and surgeon of Napoleon.
and his soldiers, that niter the victory of
Austerlitz, lie cut 4'1400 limbs, and then
the knife fell from his exhausted hands.
%Veil considered, what an antidote is this
to the love of glory!—duly weighed in the
scale of humanity and religion, what a'
fearful responsibility for the promoters of
unrighteous war!
BEST MANNER OF SUPPORTING Naw5PA-i EPF2C:7A OP riAir. Roue.— That our
IrEns.—The following remarl's of a con I Railroad, says the Raleigh Register, has
temporary, on the best manner of support-: exerted a must beneficial effmt in stirring
ing a good newspaper, are true to the let- i the people up to greater exertions in farm
, ter. We commend them to the considers• i ing matters, is plainly perceptible to all who
Lion of the public. have occasion to visit any of the counties,
Much depends upon the supporters of a within its influence either direct or indirect.
newspaper whether it is conducted with ; For instance, we learn that in several,
spirit and interest—if they aro niggardly or !counties, quite distant from the roarl, many,
negligent in their payments, the pride and; very many, are raising tobacco and grain
ambition of the editor is broken down, he; this year for market and in the counties of
works at a thankless and unprofitable task,. Person arid Grattvillo, it is said, more tu
be becomes discouraged and careless—his , baeco has been planted than over before,
paper loses its pith, interest, and dies. But and crops fair. The simple fact that tet
on the contrary, if his subscribers are °film: Railroad exerts a direct influence on the
right sort—if they are punctual, liberal ; energies of the people for nearly .50 miles
hearted fellows—always in advance des the :on either side of it, should convict) the Most
subscription list—taking art interest In in- skeptical of the advantages of such arteries
creasing the number of his subscribers—;through the country.
now ar.d then speaking a goo:i - word for his
paper; cheering him on his course by smiles
of approbation; with such, subscribers as
these, I would foreswear comfort, ease, lei
sure--every thing that could possibly step
between me and the gratification of every
audible desire on their part—l would know
no other pleasure but their satisfaction.—
How much then can the supporters of a
newspapers do to make it interesting and
respectable—indeed without concurring ef
forts on their part, a publisher of a paper
will not, cannot bestow, • the attention
which is necessary to make it what it
should be.
'''. 64l • et...
THE Cc:lst:S.—The editor of the Cincin
nati Chronicle has been exAmining the six
returns of the census, taken at intervals of
ten years each since tho adoption of 'the
cm.stitution. The investigations show
some curious facts:—
1. The population of the United States
increases exactly 34 per cent. each ten
years, and dolibles every twenty-four years.
The law is so uniform and permanent, that
when applied to the population of 1790,
and brought down to the present time, it
produces nearly the very result as shown
by the census of 1840. And thus we may
tell with great accuracy what will be tho
census of 18.50. It will be nearly twenty
three millions.
2. But although this is the aggregate re
sult, it is by no means true of each particu
lar part of the country, for New England
increases at the rate of 15 per cent. each
ton years, while the northwestern states in
crease 100 per cent. in that period.
3. The slave population increased at 30
per cent., hut since at less than 25 per cent.
The free population have, however, increas
ed at the rate of 36 per cent. At this rate,
therefore, the ditTerence between the . free
and slave population is constantly increas
ing.
4. Another fact is that the colored popu
lation increase just in proportion to the
distance south; and that slavery is certainly
and rapidly decreasing in the states border
ing on the free states.
This state of things continued, would,
in halt a century, extinguish slavery in
these states, and concentrate the whole
black population of the United States on
the Gulf of Mexico, and the adjacent
States on the southern Atlantic.
0:"' Somebody in Pennsylvania sends
us n list of the majorities for Gov. Porter
in difFerent Counties as an answer to our
remark that the said t'vovornor is an un
principled demagogue. But does that
prove his point? Was not Aaron Burr
once elected Vice Presi'dent of the United
States by the entire Democratic vote of the
Union I And was he not within an ace
of being made President? Yet who does
not know that he was a desperate dema
gogue and a black hearted villian all the
while? Yet Aaron Burr never did a public
act so unjustifiable in its character, so peri
lous in its consequenci.9 as David R. Por
ter had repeatedly done, in pardoning his
personal sattelites under indictment for
crime so as to shield them from trial.—
Fifty thousand majority would not wash
out the infamy of this foul deed.—N. Y.
Tribune.
Ton COMMON.—Stranger—Have you
any newspapers?
Editor—Certainly.
Stranger—You will give me, I suppose
sir?
Editor-0 yes, sir, (handing him apa
per.) Those are fine chickens in your
basket; have you more of them?
Stranger—Right smart of them at
home.
Editor—That's a fine one; you will give
me that I suppose, sir, will you noti
Stranger—l brought these to market to
sell, 1 should like to sell you a dozen at
seventy five cents.
The above actually occurred in our offi
ce last week, and we doubt not that it is a
lesson not soon to be forgotten:—State
Sentinel.-
WoNrontrur. STORY. --The Manchester,
Eng.) Guardian tells a great story--
rhornas H oisefield, a young man from Ash
on, undertook at Deane, near Bolton, for.
a, wager, to perform the following feats 'eminent for his great acquirements than the
within an hour:—To gather fifty peas one acuteness of his understanding. was - COCO
yard apart; run a large hoop one mile; asked by a country friend whether he
run u mile; run halfa mile in a s ac k; walk should take upon -himself the • office of a
a mile and run a mile. He accomplished justice of the peace, as he was conscious of
his task in the short period of 35i minutes, his want of legal knowledge? "My good
in the following manner: He gathered friend." replied this sagacious lawyer, olnu
the peas in 9i minutes; ran a hoop one have good sense, honesty and coolness of
mile in 5i mollies; ran a mile 51 minutes; temper; these qualities will enable yea to
ran half a mile in a sack in 4i minutes; judge rightly. but withhold your reasons
walked a mile in 0 minutes, and ran a mile of decision for they may be disputable.--
in 5 minutes. !Rakish Register.
IFPX.Ib2.III Q,lY'Oca CITOto
CANDLE,.—Every industrious and econ
' emical wife in the country, of course,
I moulds or dips a large portion of the can
! dles used in her household every year—
at any rate she ought to do it, especially
if her husband kills any beeves; and' if he
does not, she is certainly bound to deliVer
him a full course of curtain Icetures du
ring the long tall and winter nights. With
preface we will tell our fair readers
how to make candles very far superior to
those usually made in the country.—
Prepare your wicki about halt the usual
size and wet them thoroughly with Spirits
of Turpentine, put them to the sun until dry,
then tenuld or dip your candles. Candles
thus made, last longer ind give a much
clearer light. In fact they are nearly or
quite equal to Sperm, in clearness of light.
We have used candles of this kind, and can
'hemline recommend them with confidence.
—West. Farmer.
SOLVENT FOR OLD PIITTY.—In removing
old glass, spread over the putty, with a
small brash a little nitric or muriatic acid,
and the putty will become soft.
NEW COAL MINE.-A large body of val
uable Kennel Coal has been found near Pitts
burg and the Allegheny river—the largest
deposite yet found in this country. The
coal is free from sulphur.
LIQUOR SHOPS IN WASHINGTON CITY.
—The Nationed Intellgencer reports that
!here are seventy grog shops at the seat of
Government, within an area of less than
three miles square, and containing about
twenty thousand inhabitants. 01 all these
establishments only eight are real hotels,
or places of accommodation for travellers
or strangers.
"Pray what is nonsense?" asked a Wight
who talked little else. "Nonsense?" re
plied his fried. "why sir it is nonsense to
bolt a door with a boiled carrot."
Partin.— Was it our Dr. Franklin who
said 'Pride is as loud a beggar as want, and
great deal more saucy. When you have
bought one fine thing, you must buy ten
more, that your appearance may be all of a
piece; but it is easier to suppress the first
desire, than to satisfy all that follow it.
The modest young lady in Richmond,
swooned away, when Ephraim remarked
to her that he saw several trees entirely
stripped a few days ago.
COLT, the murderer, cheated TWO rum
rens in Philadelphia. We leave the sub.
ject to the calm reflection of the reader.
A Hurr•ro EDITORS.—The Boston Jour-.
nal makes mention of a book which up.
peered in London some years since, con
sisting entirely of a list of men notorious
about town for running in debt and not pay
ing; or, as the phrase among them is not
caring who su f fers. It contained 4,000 of
such names, greatly to the annoyance of
many, who were thus, perhaps, shamed in
to honesty.
How would it answer to publish annual.
ly an Editorial Club Book of delinquent
subscribersl
'1 never saw such a bustle before,' said
Mr. Snooks, the other day. to Mrs. S. and
his lovely daughters, speaking of the pros.
ent crowded state of the hotels.
'Ofcourse not, Pa,' replied the fair Jemi
ma; 'they always wear them behind.'
TUE CUNARD STF.A3TERS had up to the
17th July last, made 19 voyages to Boston
—averaging 14 days ton hours per voyage.
The longest voyage was ti-at of the Acadia
in March and April last-18 days 12 hours,
the shorte't that of the Columbia in . June—r.
12 days 2 hours. Two voyages were made
io 12 days and 12 hours; and four' in la
days 12 hours. The time is calculatea
front the hour of drpat lure from Liverpool,
to arrival in Boston, without deducting time
of detention at Halifix.
Discrierrox.— Lord Mansfield, no. less