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XT.JIXU aunLTDy. -
JVUmAas ‘Enrentag.
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TJIE CHILD OF iOHIiOIV.
ITRNY, but do not taunt » maid,
Whenever acorn with scorn repays;
Proud man, (bough now I ask your aid,
Mine once aUd were happy days.
But Sorrow mark’d me for her own
Before I told my twentieth year;
Tet when my friends began to frown,
1 but reproach’d them with -a i r,*n.
i pc’er cohld frame the harsh reply,
The look unkind by feeling Mr’d,
E’en when I met disdain’s cold eye.
E’en when I cruel language beard.
'IVe seen Befriend, my earliest friend,
Jb fuse my talent woe to bear;
\%t still unwilling to offend.
All tny remembrance wr.,—a tkah
-And I have known the slanderer’s tongue
My fkme with'vile dishonor taint.
Vet on my lip* no curses hung.
Though mountful, miitl was my complaint
And! was forc’d by cruel power
To leave the scene* I held most dear;
O! ’twos indeed a trying hour!
Yet all my language woa—a tear.
,Vnd I have known the youth I lov’d
n< tract the tows he swore to me, -
Behold my pallid cheeks unmov’d.
And, smiling, boast that he was free!
Yd | was calm (an hour of dread!)
I saw him won a maid more dear—
lot 1 was mute, I only shed—
I COULD not |/»rd— A TEAS.
A b! (U!l Was thernny cup of grief—
Pricndi, fortune, lover, fame, all lost—
beggar now I ask rclipf,
A small, a trifling boon at most.
, Jijll c«u you chide me from your door;
Ah, n«l your looks compassion wear;
So large a gift! Oh word* were poor,
• 1 thank, 1 bless you in—a tc * ft.
Oh the marriage «/ Mi** —"—» ,a tt *^ r
Kfhmim Mwjtl
Lot’s wife we read In days of old,
For one rebellious fault,
■Was chang’d, a* we are plainly fold,
Into slump of salt.
*The snma propensity to change.
Still runs in female blood,
’t\»r here we Bnd a thing as strange,
A maiden turn’d to Mudd.
Extract from •• d ihnrt Tour between fliirt
ford and Quebec, in the .lulumn of 1819,”
by Professor Sijimun of Yule College.
MONTH VIDKO,
VVn'Mat qf Mr IFadswoilh in Connecticut'
“ After constantly ascending, for
nearly, three miles, we reached the
ridge of the mountain, from
which & steep declivity of a few rods
brought us to a small rude plain,
■'•rnunated at a short distance, by
the western brow, down which thc (
same lino turnpike mad is continued.
From this plain, the traveller who
wishes to visit a spot called Monte ‘
Video, remarkable for the extraordi* !
narr beautv of its natural scenery, 1
will turn directly to the north, into i
an obscure road, cut through the
woods, by the proprietor of the place
to winch it conducts. The road is J
rough, and the view bounded on the 1
cast, by the ridge, which, in many
places, rises in perpendicular dills,
to more than one hundred feet above
the general surface of the summit of
the mountain. 0:i the west, you are
so shut in hy trees, that it is only
occasionally, and for a moment, that
you perceive there is a valley imme
diately below you.
“Atthe end of a mile and an
half, the road terminates at a tenant’s
house, built in the Gothic style, and
through a gate of the same descrip
tion, you enter the cultivated part of
tins very singular country residence
“ Here the scene is immediately
changed. The trees no lunger in
tercept your view upon the left, and
you look almost perpendicularly, into
a valley of extreme beauty, and
great extent, in the highest state of
cultivation, and which although ap
parently within reach, is six hundred
and forty feet below you. At the
right, the ridge* which has, until
now, barn your boundary, and seem
ed an impossible barrier, suddenly
breaks off, and disappears, but rises
agab. at the distance of half a mile,
in hold gray masses, to the height of
one hundred and twenty feet, crown
cd by forest trees, above which ap
pears a tower, of the same colour ts
the rocks,
“ The space or hollow, caused bv
the abaense of the ridge, or what
n»*y very properly be called the
back bone ot the mountain, is occu
pied by a deep lake, of the purest
water, nearly half a mile in length,
•ml somewhat less than half that
width. Directly before you* to (he
north, from the cottage or tenants
boati and extending half a mile, is a
scene d? cultivation, uninclosed ami
interspersed with trees; in the cen- ;
tre ot which stands the home Ihe
ground is gently undulating, bound
ed on the west by the .precipice,
which overlooks the Farmington val
ley, and inclining gently to the east,
wfiere is terminated by the hnc
margin of trees, that skirt the a c.
After entering the gate, a broad loot
path, leaving the carnage road, pas
ses off to the I est, and is. carried along
die western brow of the mountain,
until passing the house, and reach
ing the northern extremity ol this
little domain, it conduct# you, al
most imperceptibly, round to the
f« Ilt of the cliffs, on which the tower
stands. In then gradually passes
dow n to the north extremety ot the
lake, whore it unites With other
paths,at a white picturesque build nr,
ovci shadowed witli trees, standing
on the edge of the water, command •
ing a view ot the whole ol ,t, and
< open on every side, during the warm
weather, forming at that season, a
-delightful summer house, and in the
1 winter, being closed, it serves as a
shelter for the h».at. There is also
another path which beginning at the
gate, but leading in a contrary di
rc« thin, and passing to the right,
conducts you up the ridge, to what
is now the summit of the south rock,
whose top having fallen off; lies scat
ttved in huge fragments, and massy
ruins, around and below you.
“ From this place you have a view
of the lake, of the boat at anchor on its
surface,gay with its streamers, am
snowy awnings of the white build
iii<r at the north extremely of the wa
ter, ard, (rising immediately above
it.) of forest trees, and bold rocks,
intermingled with each other, and
surmounted by the tower.
“ To the west, the lawn rises gra
dually from the water, until it reach
es the portico of the house, near the
brow of the mountain, beyond which,
(lie western valley is again seen.
“ To the east and north; the eye
wanders over the great valley of
Connecticut river, to almost bound
less distance, until the scene fades
aw >y, among the blue and indistinct
mountains ot Massachusetts.
“ The carriage road, leaving the
two foot-paths, (just described.) at
the gate, passes the cottage and its
appendages, inclining at first down
towards (he water, and then follow
ing the undulations of the ground,
where die ascent is the easiest, winds
gently up the Hat on which the house
stands. Along this road the house,
the tower, the lake, &.c. occasionally
appear and disappear, through the
openings in the trees; in some parts
of it, all these objects are shut from
your view,and in no part is the dis
tant view seen, until passing through
the last group of shrubbery uear the
nouse, you suddenly find yourself
within a IVw yards of the brow of
the mountain, and the valley with
alt its distinct minuteness, immedi
ately below, where every object is
a# perfectly visible,as if placed upon
a map. Through the whole of this
lovely scene, which appears a per
fect garden, the Farmington river
pursues its course, sometimes spark
ling through embowering trees, then
stretching in a direct line, bordered
with shrubbery, blue, and still, like
a clear canal, or bending in graceful
sweep*,round white farm houses, or
through meadows of the deepest .
green.
“ The view from the house to
wards the east, presents nothing but ,
the lake at the foot of the lawn,
bounded on the north and south by
lofty cliffs, and opposite the shore, |
bv a barrier of rocks, intermixed with ,
forest trees; from amongst which, a
road is seen toi.isue, passing to the
south along the brink of the water, ,
and although perfectly safe, appears
to form, from that quarter, n dange
rous entrance to this retired spot.
“ fivery thing in this view, is cal
culated t»I mike an impression of the
must entire seclusion; lor, beyond
the water, and the open ground in
the immediate neighborhood ot the
house, rocks and forests alone meet
theleye, and appear to separate you
I rum all the rest of the world. Hut
at the same moment you are con
templating this picture of the deep
est solitude, yon may without leav
ing your place, merely by changing
your position, see through one ol the
long Gothic window* of the same
rooms, which reach to a level with
the turf, the glowing western
valley, one vast sheet ot cultivation,
filled with inhabitants, and so near,
that with the aid only of n common
spy gla<s, yon distinguish the mo- 1
iions of every individual who is i
abroad in the neighboring village,
oven to the frolics of the children, i
and the active industry of the domes- i
tic fowls, seeking their food, or i
watching over and providing for their
young. Arid from the same window, i
when the morning mist, shrouding
the world below and frequently hi- i
ding it completely from view, still
leaves the summit of the mountain in
clearsunshine, you may hear through ■
the dense medium, the mingled
sounds, occasioned by preparation
for the rural occupations of the day.
*• From the boat or summer house
several paths sverge; one ol winch,
leading to the northeast, after pas*
sing through a narrow defile, is ‘» vl *
ded into two branches; the first pas
ses round the lake, and generally out
of sight, lor a quarter ot a mile, until
descending a very steep bank, thro
a grove of evergreens, sp dark as to
be almost impervious to the rays of
the sun, even at noonday, it brings
you suddenly and unexpectedly, out
upon the eastern margin of the wa
ter, in the same road which was seen
from the opposide side, and fro'"
thence along it, to the cottage, be
yond the loot of the south rock Ihe
other branch of the path, after leav
ing the defile, passes to the cast side
of the northern ridge, and thence
. you ascend through the woods, to its
• summit, where it terminates at the
tower, standing within a few rods
\ of the edge ot the precipice. The
’ tower is a hexagon, of sixteen feet,
diameter, and fifiy five feet high; the
ascent of about eighty steps, on the
inside, is easy, and from the top of
which is nine hundred and sixty feet
above the level of Connecticut river,
vou have at one view, alt those ob
jects which have been seen separate
ly from the different stations below.
The diameter of the view in two di
rections, is more than ninety miles,
extending into the neighboring states
of Massachusetts and New York,
and comprising the spires of more
than thirty of the nearest towns and
villages. The little spot of cultiva
tion surrounding the house, and the
lake at your feet, with its picturesque
adpendages of boat, winding paths,
and Gothic buildings, shut in by
rocks and forests, compose the fore
ground of this grand panorama.
“On the western side the Farm
ington valley appears, in still great*
ci beauty than even from the low“r
brow, and is seen tb a greater c '’ent,
presenting many objects which .were
not visible from’ any other quarter.
On the east, is spread before you,
the great plain through which the
Connecticut river winds its coarse,
and upon the borders of which the
towns and villages are traced for
more than forty miles The most
considerable place within sight, is
Hartford, where, although at the dis
tance ot eight miles in a direct line,
you see, with the aid of a glass, the
carriages passing at the intersection
of the street, and distinctly trace the
motion and position of the vessels,
as they appear, and vanish; upon the
river; whose broad sweeps are seen
like a succession of lakes, extending
the valley. The whole of this mag
nificent pictuie, including in its vast
extent, cultivated plains and rugged
mountains, rivers, towns, and villa
ges, is encircled by a distant outline
of bloc mountains, rising in shapes
of endless variety.”
Revolutionary Incidents.
It is pleasant to look back on the
days that arc past, circumstances of
which are frequently brought to our
recollection by accident. The pre
sence of the veteran Commodore
Tucker in this city has procured us
the perusal of the letter of which we
lave been obligt'd by the following
copy:
San. 18, ISI6.
Slß—Samuel Tucker, Esq. a
Member ol cur Massachusetts Le
gislature, has a petition to govern
ment lorjustice or customary favor
i;o meritorious officers, which will be
explained before the proper judges.
1 cannot refuse his request to certify
what I know of his character and
history. My acquaintance with him
commenced early in the year 1776,
when he was first appointed to a com
mand in the navy, in which he serv
ed, with reputation and without re
proach, to the end of the war in
1783.
His biography would make a con-'
spicuous figure, even at this day, in
the naval annals of the United
States. I can be particular only in
one instance. In 1778, he was or
dered to France in the Boston fri
gate. He sailed in February, and
soon fell in with three British frigates
sent from Rhode-Island expressly
to intercept him. Fighting of one
against three was out of the question.
Inachaceof three days aud three
nights, he buttled all the inventions,
and defeated all the manoeuvres of
the enemy, and was separated from
him at last, in the (iulph stream, by
a furious hurricane, which for three
days more threatened him with im
mediate destruction. Nor was this
his last danger from seas or from ei>
emies. He had two other storms,
and two other detachments of Bri
tish men of war. to encounter ; one
in the English Channel, and another
in the Bay of Biscay. He arrived
at Bordeaux in April.
Nothing |but vigilance, patience,
and perseverance, added to consum
mate nautical skill, could have pre
served that ship through so many
dangers at that equinoctial season,
aud such a succession of irrcsistable
enemies.
I hcartly wish Captain Tucker
success; and the favor ot you, sir,
to communicate to any committee
who may be charged with the exatui.
nation of his application this letter,
from your friend and humble ser-
VaUt ’ . JOHN ADAMS.
Hun. Mr. Crowningihield,
Secretary of the JVdiy of the V. 3.
The foregoing is a true copy of the
original now in my possession, a
MARK L. IJILL. £
Connected with this letter is an
anecdote of the now venerable wid
er, which we do nut recollect to have
before seen in print. From the un
affected simplicity with which the
letter is written, it would’ not ap
pear that Mr. Adams was ou board
the vessel commanded by Captain
Tucker, in the cruize of which he
i speaks; but this was (lie fact.
, Captain Tucker then commanded the
i Boston frigate, anil was charged w itli
; the important duty, at that diifirult
, time, of carrying Mr. Adams out
• as Ambassador to France. About
. fifteen days before their arrival at
f Bordeaux theic hove in sight a large
L English ship, showing a tier of gnus.
, Tucker immediately held a convei
• satiun with Mr. Adams, assured him
. h, , '' , iild take her, and wished toob
. tain tds consent to run down lor her;
. ti.*«»* as granted. The Boston bore
, down: Mr. Adams being a non
i combatant, was desired to retire into
, the cock-pit, below water. Hade
: scendcd,at this request, into theca
l bin. Tucker returned immediately
- to his duty, and in fifteen minutes
: the Boston was within hail of the
• English ship, which proved to be the
, Martha, and had been lying too, to
meet her enemy. Upon Tucker’#
: hailing the British ship, she answer
ed by a broad side, Which shot away
a piece of the mizen yard of the
Boston, which fell upon Tuekor’s
shoulder, and brought him flat on
, the deck. This for a moment pre
vented tliej order to return the fire;
but, as he leaped from the deck and
gained his legs, he found the colors
of the Martha hauled down ; and,
, looking forward, observed Mr. A
dams among the marines, with a
musket in his hand, having privatc
ly applied to the officer of the ma
rines fora gun,and taken his station
with them. At this sight, Captain
Tucker became alarmed ; for he was
responsible tor the safety of Mr.
Adams, and, walking up to the Am
bassador, desired to know how he
came there r Upon which the other
smiled, gave up his gun, and went
immediately beloiv.
From the National Advocate.
« THE CRITICAL OBSERVER”
" If you change your place often, you’ll
meet with a loss,
for a rolling 1 stone will gather no moss.”
Amongst the many follies which
characterize the short-sighted mor
tals who • inhabit this world, none
occupies a more prominent station
than the one alluded to in (ho little
doggered rhyme with which this es
say is prefaced. It is a mania which
possesses alike, the rich and the
I poor, the high and the low, the old
and the young. Indeed, nothing is
more common than for a person to
suppose that he can do much better
by removing to a new country, than
by continuing in the spot he then oc
cupies; and this too, without consi
dering whether his ill luck, as it is
generally termed, is not the rather
to he ascribed lo his own want of in
dustry and economy, than to want of
patronage from his neighbors.
This inclination to rove,the desire
of pushing one’s fortune. ”in a
new country, was a folly which my
uncle could by no meats tolerate;
and both by precept and example,
he constantly endeavored to counter
act its baleful cfiects upon the minds
of those who were so unhappy as to
e allotted by it. And if a residence
of near three score and ten years, on
oue spot, and a gradual increase of
wealth and respectability, are a cor
rect critei ion by which to form an
opinion, no person furnished a bet
ter example of the advantages at
tendant upon the matter in question.
It was an intention I had avowed
of removing to the western country,
in order to « try my luck, 1 ” as a far
mer, which occasioned my uncle
Bartholomew to make the quotation
already alluded to, from an old bal
lad which he happenned to be read
ing ; and although the distitch was
not very sublime, it possessed suf
ficient truth to induce me to forego
ray intention altogether.
John Fickle was a young fellow of
a very lively turn of mind. He resi
ded in the village near my uncles
farm, and was one of my most con
stant companions. It will be useless
to attempt enumerating the many
instances in which the unsteadiness
of his disposition was manifested.
But in none was it more completely
exemplified, than in the choosing’of
a trade: tor John was intended for
a mechanical profession. However,
after trying some five or six, be fi
nally fixed upon that of carpenter;
al }d which, to the great astonishment
of his acquaintances, he at length
completed. Hardly, however, had
he finished hia apprenticeship, than
he conceived the idea of turning far
mer. Accordingly a farmer he be
as Jotek
was <? «'ery j (
thing by starts UT>> ®®!p n K. !,J1 '
he soon became liml owla ’
lie, ami be tried that or®in-ketpfcff ,
This, in a short time, he likewise re ,
linrjuished; ami the exiling of ante r- 1
chant was the next thing he enibra- 1
ceil; hut, as was the c isc before, he
was no grest length of time a mea
• surer of tape; ami asby this time he.
had imhil ed the ‘prevalent notion,
that the cause of his not encrcasing
in wealth was the fault of (he places
which he had successively ihadb the
, scene ol his exerti ns, and not his
, own, he Determined upon removing
[ into a new country; which iietermi
! nati»n >\us duly carried into effect.
. Here however, Juht.’s removals
were as frequent as ever; and his a
. vocations were almost us numerous
, as those of the famous Caleb Quo
t tom. Kut th y were loosing cun
t corns; and tliorefore, • i aftor figuring
I away his little hour” in each, he te
{ turned to his native village, to fol
,. low his business as a carpenter!
Thus, from a state of contpaiative in
dependence, he was reduced almost
, to beggary—-and this too, merely
. from his verifying the old saving ‘*a
. rolling stone gathers no moss.”
L ! There are a great many John
lii kies now a days. I o such 1 will
j merely say, in (he words of my uncle.
i-If you change your place often,
. you Ml meet with a loss.
f , For a rolling stone will gather no
s moss.”
• ALHIX^TA.
,
• MONDAY, JANUARY 8.
.. (£j* There has becu no variation in the
. Market since last week.
i THE WEATHER!
On Saturday and Sunday fast, the Tllcr
• mometor stood at two degrees below
) Zero —the coldest weather we ever rccol
-5 lect to have experienced thus far south
’ The hoary monarch, Wistbh, was empha
’ tically armed cap-a-pe; and so unexpect
-1 ed was the visitation, so quick the transi
tion—that one might be led to believe
I some sudden revulsion in Nature,
l bad changed the Poles.
5 The JV«w Theatre opens on Wednesday
’ evening next, with Goldsmith’s favorite
, comedy “She stoops to Conquer and the
• afterpiece ,l of Jge Tomorrow The
[. company We understand, is principally u
new one; and stands very conspicuous in
point of respectability and talent.
Tlie style of beauty and elegance with
which the Theatre is fitted up, reflects
[ consideiable credit upon the taste an a
f judgment of Mr. Youso, the enterprising
Manager of this company.
■ The following gentlemen, were on Mon
. day last, elected by the Stockholders, l)i
! rectors of the Planters Dank at Savannah,
Jamas Johnston , Benjamin Burroughs,
' George fV. Owens, Thomas Young, Tho
mas Gardner, WilVam Gaston, George IV.
I .Undersoil, James Jif, Wayne, John Hunter,
I James 11 1 Wo, FI) Petit iJe Villers , Hubert
Isaac, jXorman Wallace.
The Editor of the New. York Daily Ad
vertiser does not know of how many slates
the Union is composed! He adds up the
i Yeas and Nays on the admission, of Mis
. souri into the Union, finds they amount to
forty-four, and adds—“it will he observed,
that every member of the Senate was at
his post.” There are twenty three states
in the Union, and the Senate is composed
• of forty-six members. However, the fam
ily has multiplied so rapidly of late, it is
not very surprising that even the Editor
, of a newspaper should make a mistake
of one in the number of them.
; Prat, Intelligencer,
; The form ts nor government has in ma.
t ny respects a pei ccptible influence on our
social customs. We find this remark ex
emplified everyday in the Conventions of
Delegates to confer on affairs of every
sort —on the concerns of agriculture, of
manufactures, kc. &e. We have Coloniza
tion Societies, D'.ble Societies, Missionary
• Societies, kc. widely scattered over the
country, all of each description in suhordi
nation, for matters of general and foreign
concernment, to a Metropolitan Society,
in which all are represented, thus follow
iug the idea of our primary assemblies and
State and Federal Governments. In all
this, there is generally much wisdom and
frequently great benefit to the objects of
such associations. Perhaps, however, the
principle is sometimes carried too far.
We have never seen it more whimsically,
nor, we should suppose, more uselessly
applied, than in a proposition, in a New-
Jersey paper, to establish a General Deba
ting Society, to be composed of Delegates
from a number of Debating Societies in
the neighboring towns. Delegation im
plies the transfer of authority; and the
power to debate is no more transferable
than the power of breathing; or the favor- ,
ites of eating and drinking, neither of
which can be exercised by the deputy. I
A delegation of politicians, of merchants,
of manufacluresr, is intended to cojicen- (
trate opinion and to effect unity of senti
ment and of action. What is to be con- ,
centrated by Delegation of Debatings So
cieties, it would be difficult to coinpre- I
liend, and unity of sentiment would put \
an end to debate, and defeat the only pur- i
pose of their meeting—unjess, indeed, it |
be admitted that a proposition may he j
debated which is not disputable.— lbid.
WEST-INDIA NEWS. *
_ I
Ki Boston, (Jam) Not. 22. 1
Extract of a letter from Savaiulla, dated the t
14th instant.
S On the 10th, the Independents entered •
the Cinega, after very hard fighting, du
ring which, 300 of the Royalists were s
killed, and the like number wounded I
Col. .jCavero commanded . I
de W» Assooir»sthe tak n* /
JJHL M k "' Av n at Santa • til,, B
MWPP (, n-.>a)senta fI JL . - M
WntiDo, fdlering t« c- >*p , u ' ’’K
wns accepted, and the dm* ' ’■
haU past tour, and has been
possession evti since.
“Anry lias ‘mined Urim I
vessels, and is created Vice- vi' 5> J ■
was to proceed with in, T,’
blockade Ca*'tl^a^cus. ,, * s -‘ : oi^B
At lite period of the *oSj 7T ; I
tore Santa Marl!,a **, i„ aM , J I
(judny, -IwolmmU,,! 0 f
dents had proceeded ‘
Hache. lien l) 6 v«r. uux
mg Bolivar, and to tnke cl„‘ lS J u M
troops destined against Murajj* I
The United Slate* I
1 4 guns, V'api. Kea V «ey,can* k*l
at Bolt Udy al on .Saturday ever * S
acnnsc. • 1 ■
A schooner named the I
has been sent ioto Barbados u ,7"i
bu ne frigate, wire re she l las
deramdasupnavc. | t appear, ‘,l
, Was Jilted at .St. Bartholomews JJ
detained, was proceeding t u St r, 1
h.rmen having only tveivc J j
She It a! seven guns, small arms , J
lion, um;. lor tig'ity men, was piWi.A
ot tour mouths and hud a c„„,, ; u
from Amiga*-', dated two vi a - s |, . .
was launched, as the Montpelier J r „
more. 1
Died, on the 4.1, of November at
ytTiinienl-IIoKBf, Ik, bice, his tloll.
Lieutenant tiovuhor Ikniinck.
From the Q:ie/»;c Mercury of Danube
DISASTUOUS WIIKtJK.
On the slh ultimo, towards 6 o<f 0 < f
in the evening, the schooner Julte M
mg to Mr. Tlierien, merchant,' Jr u
real, commanded by captain David
thias from Chalcuis Bay, loaded will
and codfish, was wrecked near Mom,'
Loins. As it was blowing stromr A
theN. E. and being dark, she struck «
great violence. All on board left
naked, after having remained on ;| le( L
struggling against .the wares, until mi
mght. ’file captain imagining that d
were not far from habitations, i u j M
the others to accompany him in search
some, notwithstanding the obscurity
the night, and the drifting snow,
thus continued their route till io’clo
tiie next day, without clothing, Wl thi
victuals, without finding any habitatij
and without knowing where they » (
Mr. Tlierien then suspecting th,t(
captain was in an error, resolved to reti
to the place of the wreck, in the l B
of finding there both victuals and do
ing for himself and his companion!,
whom same already began to hi]
strenirth.
dll Clljj 111*
The whole then began to retrace the
steps and as each felt their own suffers
and weakness, so each strived to arrivei
soon as possible at the desired spot,)
such manner that the weakest remaine
the last, without being able to obtain tS
least assistance from his companions, e»t
of whom feared every instant to tenii
by the way.
In extreme perils, in common withoth
ers, nature seems to concentrate itself
leaving, even to the man of the greates
sensibility, no other sentiment tlun whi
is nect Ssary to bis own preservation. Ed
ourd Acout, a native of Jersey, and Ja
rpies Marcheatcrre. of Three Rivers, H
and died on the beach before they k
travelled half the way; the others, ini
tie better condition, having reached lit
river a Fierro, Were stopped by theliijh
tide, and obliged to take shelter amoj
the bushers; vvtiefe they passed the nip
struggling against the elerncu'.s
The next day they arrived at the
ed spot, the place of the wreck,
they found one man, named Burke, '‘Wm
buried in sand, on the beach; another
the name of Daniel Richard, had
drowned the preceding night, a Laic i/SB
dy had nut yet been toniul. Those wIHH
escaped death, were Therien. F. X. 118
Homme, his clerk, captain Mathias, JerS
Rene und Robert Baynes who
U days on the shore, wjctcbedly
jpd, having tlieir feet so swelled and
cerateil l>y the cold, and so excoriated
the rocks, on which they had walkedb«e-M|
foot, that they were not able toshltt iiwi
one place to another, otherwise
heir hands and kufes.
Therien and Rene, the two most ciyi- B|
hie, having at length, in some n.casairfi WM
repaired the boat, all embarked, and nw ■■
days arrived at St. Jane dtt Cup Cm-, H
where, with incredible labor and P a;l! >
they reached MaUine, where they nt«»- H
ed the moat prompt assistance, an'
most touching hospitality Iromlne
enregsff Mrs. M*t«ibb«n. Rune, n 1
himself 100 weak to continue the
and beginning to lose his iocs, was a’ J
ed to remain under the care ei lb l 1 ‘
itable lady. Tlie sufferer* were m H
greatly iiu.-ibl 1 for services to Mr. 10.. / H
and to the peupeof Mr. Mat.uU>.* ■
tablishment at Metis. . ,i. H
The loss of the cargo and schoonco . ■- H
latter having been launched <>;ily- J ; J;• H
is valued at more than 2uUtl.ua •*“ ■
there was no insurance. H
Mr. Therien arrived in Quebec •
6th instant, with Mr. Re K onua ' ' H
captain Mathias. H
—® -t-O **■ —’ ■
NASHVILLE, (Tenn.) N° v - I
Law Intelligence. ■
During the present term ot l_ ■
circuit court ol this county, ■
of a very novel character '«» •* H
The State, vs- a family ot th -» ■
of Pig. The indictment char o ■
Mr. Pig, and two or three ol ■
sons, young men, with an a P I
poison the family pi a neig' . ■
[lie seme of SM«cje«. I*l
in their coftce Caaiharides, u I
ly called Spanish flies, ami'' ■
ing furnished and employe . ■
woman who pretenderl to o I
tress, to administer certain fi I
tious to the daughter u J ||riy I
with a view to induce he - ■
one of the Pigs, or to .render I
easy subject of seductioni < J m I
The vials containing the ™ , h 0 I
said tobe furnished the doc . , f I
had absconded, was pro-- I