Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

(gaKß®ssa®iyEo rt'BtISRBO BT XT.JIXU aunLTDy. - JVUmAas ‘Enrentag. .._r=^_—»■ ■'• ' " rT "~ 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