DEVOTED TO POLITE LITERATURE, SUCH AS MORAL AND SENTIMENTAL TALES, BIOGRAPHY, TRAVELING SKETCHES, POETRY, AMUSING MISCELLANY, ANECDOTES, &c. HUDSON, N. Y. SATURDAY, MARCH 29, 1834. VOL. X.-[1. NEW SERIES.] SELECT TALES. From the Philadelphia Annual Offering. BY MISS SEDGWICK. To be mistress of some honest man's house, and the means to make your neighbors happy, the poor easy, and relieving strangers, is the most creditable lot a young woman can look to, and I heartily wish it to all here.' PIRATE. Mrs. Seton, Emily Dayton is engaged to William Moreland.' 'To William Moreland. Well, why should she not be engaged to William Moreland?' Why should she rather!' NO. 22. but such a fate as you anticipate for Emily || hearing, whether you do not, in your secret 46 But my dear Mrs. Seton, what are we to do?-all women cannot be so fortunate as you are.' Perhaps not. But so kind is the system of compensation in this life; and such is the thirst for happiness, and so great the power of adaptation in the human mind, that the I know not Emily Dayton's "why," but conjugal state is far more tolerable than we ladies' reasons for marrying are as "thick as should expect when we see the mismated blackberries." A common motive with girls parties cross its threshold. Still there can under twenty is the eclat of an engagement-be no doubt that its possible happiness is the pleasure of being the heroine of bridal often missed, and such is my respect for festivities of receiving presents-of being my sex, and so high my estimate of the called by that name so enchanting to the capabilities of married life, that I cannot endure imagination of a miss in her teens-" the to see a woman, from the fear of being an old maid, driven into it, thereby forfeiting its highest blessings.' bride!"" But Emily Dayton, you know, is past twenty.' 6 There is one circumstance that takes place of all reasons-perhaps she is in love.' In love with William Moreland! No, no, Mrs. Seton-there are no "merry wanderers of the night" in these times to do Cupid's errands, and make us dote on that which we In the name certainly; but it is because it does not designate a condition but a species. It calls up the idea of a faded, bony, wrinkled, skinny, jaundiced personage, whose mind has dwindled to a point-who has outlived her natural affections-survived every love but love of self, and self-guarded by that Cerberus suspicion-in whom the follies of youth are fresh when all its charms are gone-who has retained, in all their force, the silliest passions of the silliest women-love of dress, of pleasure, of admiration; who, in short, is in the condition of the spirits in the ancients' Tartarus, an impalpable essence tormented with the desires of humanity. Now turn, my dear Anne, from this hideous picture to some of our acquaintance who certainly have missed the happiest destiny of woman, but who dwell in light, the emanation of their own goodness. I shall refer you to actual living examples You must nevertheless confess, Mrs.no fictions.' Seton, that there are terrors in the name.' a Yes, I know there are; and women are I hate, too, to hear such things said, but No fictions, indeed, for them you must return to the M'Tabs and Grizzles. Whatever your philanthropy may hope for that most neglected portion of our sex, no author has ventured so far from nature as to portray an attractive old maid. Even Mackenzie, with a spirit as gentle as my uncle Toby's, and as tender as that of his own "Man of Feeling," has written an essay in ridicule of "old maids." death that a Mr. Henry Orne, a native of the || you must entertain one another. Henry has saved the "red cheeked" apples for her; the boys drew her, hour after hour, in her little wagon, and the girls made her rag babies. Still she was not in any disagreeable sense an enfante gatee. She was like those flowers that thrive best in warm and continued sunshine. Her soft hazle eye, with its dark sentimental lashes, the clear brunette tint of her complexion, and her graceful flexible lips, truly expressed her tender, loving and gentle spirit. She seemed formed to be sheltered and cherished; to love and be loved; and this destiny appeared to be secured to her by || her devoted sister, who never counted any exertion or sacrifice that procured an advan-you-was Agnes pretty ?' tage or pleasure for Lizzy. When Lizzy was Pretty? The word did not exactly suit Wherever she was, her sweet voice was about fourteen, a relative of the family, who her. At the time of which I am now speaking, || heard ringing in laughter, or swelling in music kept a first rate boarding school in the city, she was at the mature age of five and twenty, that seemed the voice of irrepressible joy— offered to take her for two years, and give which is called the perfection of womanhood. the spontaneous breathing of her soul. To her all the advantages of her school, for the Prettiness is rather appropriate to the bud the lover approaching his marriage day, Time small consideration of fifty dollars per annum. than the ripened fruit. Agnes, I have been is apt to drag along with leaden foot, but to Small as it was, it amounted to a tithe of the told, had a fine pcrson-symmetrical features, Henry Orne he seemed rather to fly with parson's income. It was well known, that, in and so charming an expression that she was Mercury wings at his heels; and when Agnes certain parts of country, every thing (not not far from beautiful, in the eyes of strang-found herself compelled by the accumulation always discreetly) is sacrificed to the hobby-ers, and quite a beauty to her friends and of her affairs, to defer the wedding for another. education. Still the prudent father, who had lovers. Whether it were beauty, manners, month, he submitted with a better grace than already two sons in college, hesitated-did mind, or heart, I know not-one and all could have been expected. Not many days not consent till Agnes ascertained that by probably-but Henry Orne soon became her of this second term had elapsed, when Agnes, keeping a little school in the village she might assiduous and professed admirer. Till now amidst all her cares, as watchful of Lizzy as obtain half the required sum. Her father, Agnes had lived satisfied and happy with a mother of an only child, observed a change brothers and friends all remonstrated. The subordinate affections. She had never seen stealing over her. Her stock of spirits toils of a school, in addition to the care and any one that she thought it possible she could seemed suddenly expended, her color faded— labor of her father's family, was, they urged, love as well as she loved those to whom nature her motions were languid, and each successtoo much for her-but she laughed at them. had allied her. But now the sun arose and ive day she became more and more dejected. “What was labor to her if she could benefit other lights became dim-not" that she loved "She wants rest," said Agnes to Henry Orne; Lizzy-dear Lizzy!" All ended, as might|| Caesar less, but she loved Rome more."" she has been unnaturally excited, and there be expected, in Lizzy's going to the grand Their mutual faith was plighted, and both is now a reaction. She must remain quietly boarding school. The parting was a great believed, as all real lovers do, that the world at home for a time, on the sofa, in a darkened and trying event in the family. It was soon never contained so happy, so blessed a pair, room, and you, Henry, I am sure, will, for followed by a sadder. The father suddenly as they were. my sake, give up your riding and walking for sickened and died-and nothing was left to 'Lizzy's second year at school was nearly a few days and stay within doors, and play on his family but his house and well kept little ended, and one month after her return the your flute, and read to her." Agnes' suggarden. What now was to be done? College marriage was to be solemnized. In the mean gestions were promptly obeyed, but without and schools to be given up? No such thing. time Agnes was full of the cares of this world. the effect she anticipated. Lizzy, who had In our country, if a youth is rich he ought to The usual preparations for the greatest occa- never before had a cloud on her brow, seemed be educated; if he is poor, he must be. Thesion in a woman's life are quite enough for to have passed under a total eclipse. She education is the capital whereby they are to became each day more sad and nervous. live hereafter. It is obtained in that mystetender word from Agnes-sometimes a look, rious but unfailing way-"by hook and by would make her burst into tears. crook." The elder Grays remained in college; Agnes engaged her school; learned lessons in Mathematics and Latin one day, and taught them the next; took a poor, accomplished young lady from some broken down family in town into partnership, and received a few young misses as boarders into her family. Thus, she was not only able to pay dear Lizzy's bills regularly, but to aid her younger brothers. Her energy and success set all her other attractions in a strong light, and she was talked about, and became quite the queen of the village. any single pair of hands; but Agnes had to A I am miserable, Henry,' said Agnes, at 'Lizzy arrived, as lovely a creature as she this unaccountable change in Lizzy-the had appeared in the dreams of her fond sister, doctor says she is perfectly free from disease In the freshness and untouched beauty of her-perhaps we have made too sudden a transiown existence, just freed from the trammels tion from excessive exercise to none at all.— of school, her round check glowing with The evening is dry and fine, I wish you would health, and her heart overflowing with happi-induce her to take a little walk with you. ness." Here is my own dear Lizzy," said She is distressed at my anxiety, and I cannot Agnes, as she presented her to Henry Orne, propose any thing that does not move her to and if you do not love me for any thing else, tears.' you must for giving you such a sister." 66 Henry Orne looked at Lizzy and thought and said, "the duty would be a very easy one." For the next month," continued 'I think it was about a year after her father's Agnes, "I shall be incessantly occupied, and It is very much the same with me,' replied Henry, sighing deeply, but if you wish it I will ask her.' He accordingly did so—she consented, and they went out together. there, throwing herself upon her knees, she || But Lizzy did not turn. Agnes heard her My story has yet a sad supplement, entreated her Heavenly Father to withdraw feebly drag herself into the little dressing- || Madame Cotin, I believe it is, advises a story this sudden infusion of bitterness from her room adjoining their apartment, and after, teller to close the tale when he comes to a brimming cup of happiness. "Try me in any there was no sound but the poor girl's sup-happy day, for, she says, it is not probable other way," she cried, in the intensity of her pressed, but still audible sabs. another will succeed it. Poor Lizzy had feeling, for the first time in her life, forgetting None but He who created the elements experience of this sad mutability of human that every petition should be in the spirit of that compose the human heart, and who can life. Hers was chequered with many sorrows. "Thy will be done," "try me in any other penetrate its mysterious depths, can know Lapses from virtue at eight and twenty, way, but show ine the means of restoring my which of the sisters was most wretched at and at sixteen afford very different indicasister-my child to health and happiness!" that moment.-To Agnes, who had lovedtions of the character;-and I think you deeply, confidingly, without a shadow of fear cannot expect much from a man, who, at or distrust, the reverse was total. To Lizzy,eight and twenty, acted the part of Henry who had enjoyed for a moment the bewildering Orne. He was unfaithful in engagements fervors of a young love, only to feel misery, with persons less merciful than Agnes Gray. that misery was embittered by a sense of wrong He became inconstant in his pursuits-self done to her sister. And yet it had not been a indulgent, and idle, and finally, intemperate in willing, but an involuntary, resisted, and most his habits. His wife as wives will-loved heartily repented wrong. She had recklessly him to the end. rushed down a steep to a fearful precipice, and now felt that all access and passage to return was shut against her. Agnes without having one dim fear-without one preparation, saw an abyss yawning at their feet-an abyss only to be closed by her self-immolation. She returned again to her little parlor. Lizzy had not come in, and she sat down on the sofa near an open window, and resigned herself to musings, the occupation, if occupation it may be called of the idle, but rarely, and never of late, of Agnes! In a few moments Lizzy and Henry returned and came into the porch adjoining the parlor. They perceived the candles were not lighted, and concluding Agnes was not there, they sat down in the porch. 66 Oh, I am too wretched!' said Lizzy. Her voice was low and broken, and she was evidently weeping. Is it possible," thought Agnes, that she will express her feelings She remained alone for many hours-she more freely to Henry than to me? I will resolved-her spirit faltered-she re-resolves. listen. If she knows any cause for her-She thought of all Lizzy had been to her, dejection, I am sure I can remove it." "Why, my beloved Lizzy," replied Orne, in a scarcely audible voice, “will you be so wretched-why will you make me so, and forever, when there is a remedy!" "Henry Orne!" she exclaimed, and there was resolution and indignation in her voice. “If you name that to me again to night, I will never, so help me God, permit you to come into my presence without witnesses. No, there is no remedy but in death. Would that it had come before you told me you loved me-before my lips confessed my sinful love for you—no, no—the secret shall be buried in my grave." “Oh Lizzy, you are mad-Agnes does not, cannot love as we do. Why sacrifice two to one? Let me, before it is too late, tell her the whole, and cast myself on her generosity." Never, never-I now wish, when I am in her presence, that the earth at her feet would swallow me up; and how can you, for a moment, think I will ask to be made happythat I could be made happy, at her expense? No, I am willing to expiate with my life, my baseness to her—that I shall soon do so is my only comfort—and you will soon forget me-men can forget, they say—" and of all she had been to Lizzy, and she There is a power in goodness, pure self 'Agnes retained her school, which had become in her hands a profitable establishment. There she labored, year after year, with a courageons heart, and serene countenance, and devoted the fruit of all her toils to Lizzy, and to the education of her children. I am telling no fiction, and I see you believe me, for the tears are trembling in your eyes-do not repress them, but permit them to embalm the memory of an old maid?' COMMUNICATIONS. For the Rural Repository. Mary Queen of Scotts. WHEN we read or hear of distinguished persons who have been traduced by the hand of black malice or despicable slander—when Lizzy waited till all was quiet in her we know of noble spirits who through some sister's room. She heard her get into bed, untoward misfortune, have been prized lower and then stole softly to her. Agnes, as she than their deserts, and sunk into obscurity had done from Lizzy's infancy, opened her and neglect-we cannot but, in the former arms to receive her, and Lizzy pillowing her case, feel the utmost indignation, while in aching head on Agnes' bosom, softly breath-both, sympathy and pity arise in our breasts. ing :-"My sister-mother!" My own Lizzy-my child.' answered Agnes. There was no tell-tale faltering of the voice. She felt a tear trickle from Lizzy's cold cheek on her bosom and not very long after both sisters were in a sleep that mortals might envy, and angels sinile on. Who would not sooner trust himself in the bloody hands of the midnight assassin, than to the mercy of him who at noon-day has the heart to injure the good name even of a rival. In the former case, he can but lose his life, while in the latter, that better than precious ointment has gone forever-and at best he must drag out a miserable existence-' more miserable than death itself."' The rest you will anticipate, my dear Aune, The desclosure to the lovers of her discovery, was made by Agnes in the right Some have represented the character of way, and at the right time. Every thing was Mary Queen of Scotts, as indelibly stained done as it should be by this most admirable with crimes the most dreadful—crimes which woman. She seemed, indeed, to feel as a humanity revolts at-as tainted on every guardian angel might, who, by some remission side-as made up of nought but putrefaction of his vigilance, had suffered the frail mortal and corruption, but who are they who make in his care to be beguiled into evil. She these representations? Are they not either never, by word or even look, reproached her personal enemies or those who oppose Lizzy. She shielded her, as far as possible, from self-reproach, nor do I believe she ever felt more unmixed tenderness and love for her, than when, at the end of a few months, she saw her married to Henry Orne. her claims? We cannot but admire the firmness, yet softness and loveliness which characterize the beautiful though unfortunate Queen. Hume, Robertson and a long train of 1 historians have attempted to paint Mary in the darkest colors, so much so, that it is evident to every one that they are bound fast in the iron fetters of prejudice. The majority of writers are manifest opposers and enemies to Mary. But Bell has come forththe deliverer of this noble woman. MISCELLANY. Scene from the Deluge. BY GESSNER. SEMIRA AND SEMIN. THE marble towers are already deep beneath The the flood, and the dark mountain waves roll minds of most people are changed with regard above the tops of the hills; the lofty summit to her. Public opinion is now the friend of one mountain, alone, stands above the rather than the despiser and contemner of waves; a dreadful tumult is heard around its Mary Stuart. Robertson has said that the sea-girt sides;-the clamor of the wretched affair with regard to Darnley's death is a stain who despair of attaining its summit, and whom in her character which cannot be wiped away-death closely pursues on the billows. Here, that it is and ever will be a black spot upon a hill breaks loose from the mountain, and the pages of her history. But Bell, after rushes, with its load of howling humanity, much toilsome and critical examination of the into the foaming flood; there concentrated subject, has in face of the defiance, asserted showers wash away, in the wild stream, the and proved her innocence. After having son dragging after him the half dead father, brought forward the evidence on both sides or the disconsolate mother, with her load of and weighed it well, she is not found wanting. children. Never was there a person whose character stood in a fairer light, than now stands that of this formerly despised and neglected lady. Ah! but she was a Catholic, cry her enemies. Be it so. But is this inconsistent with a good character? Must a person be a demon because he or she disagrees with us in religious sentiment. Did not Fenelon live and die a Catholic? And is it, can it be doubted that he was a man of the most upright principles, yes, a Christian? Then why bring this up as against the character of Mary? The highest pinnacle, alone, now stands above the desolation. Semin, a noble youth, to whom the fairest of maidens had vowed eternal love, had saved his beloved Semira on this summit. Alone, for the flood had now destroyed all; they stood in the howling storm. The waves dashed around them; above rolled the thunder, and beneath them, the tumultuous sea. All around was terrific darkness, except when the lightning fitfully illuminated the dreary scene: every cloud with darker front, threatened to displace them, and every wave, with its thousand corpses. rolled onwards with the storm and sought after fresh destruction. But why didn't she join the Reformers? they cry again. The answer is that she had cogent reasons for not joining. It is well Semira pressed her beloved Semin to her known, and I believe generally confessed that heaving breast; tears flowed with the rain the Reformers were of the coarsest class of drops from her pallid cheeks; with faltering community. The insolence with which she voice she spake. There is no farther safety, was treated by John Knox-the head of the Re- oh my beloved! my Semin! every where we formers, was enough to satisfy one possessed are surrounded by raging death! oh, desoof the refined taste and delicate feelings of lation! oh miscry! death mounts nearer and Mary. We cannot but censure the unrefined nearer! which of these billows, oh which is manner, the gross familiarity and the coarse to envelope us? hold me, hold me in thy sarcasm, which were most prominent in his trembling arms, my beloved! soon, soon too free intercourse with the Queen. She shall I, shalt thou, be no more, carried away looked upon the Protestant Religion as ain the general confusion. Now, oh God! religion which licensed insolence. John Knox, there it comes rolling on! how terrific! it rolls it cannot be denied, took exactly the wrong nearer, illuminated by the lightning. Now, method to convert her. Who can censure oh God! oh God! righteous Judge.' She her for refusing to become a member of that spake and sank into the arms of Semin. band whose very leader treated her as a subject rather than a Queen? Should we not blame her the rather for suffering him to stay a moment in her presence. Would she not have been justified had she ordered him forever from her society? Bell has accomplished that deed for mankind for which we cannot be too grateful. His exact correctness of dates, his facts, his precise delineations of her character, and his careful examination of her papers cannot but have great weight in favor of Bell's history of Mary Queen of Scotts. D. G. His trembling arm encircled the fainting fair; his quivering lips were silent; he no longer heeded the desolation around him, he saw only his fainting love resting on his bosom and felt more than the anguish of death. He now kissed her pale checks, spattered by the cold rain; pressed her more closely to his breast and said: Semira! beloved Semira! awake! oh return once again into these scenes of terror, that thy eyes may once more regard me; once more let thy pale lips declare, that thou lovest me till death; yet once ere the flood envelopes us.' He spake and she revived; regarded him with a look full of tenderness and inexpressi| ble anguish and then cast her eye towards the scene of desolation. God! righteous Judge! she exclaimed is there no safety, no mercy for us? oh how the billows rage; how the thunder rolls around us! what terrors announce thy implacable vengeance! oh God! our years have flowed on in innocence; thou! the most virtuous of youths! alas! alas! they are all now gone! they, who blessed my life with thousands of joys, are all gone! and thou, who gavest me life! oh heart rending sight! from my side the flood tore thee away; yet once thou raisedst thy head and thy arms, desirous to bless me, and wast swallowed up. Alas! they are all gone! and yet oh Semin! Semin! the solitary, desolate world, at thy side, would be paradise to me! oh God! in innocence our youthful years have flitted away. Alas! is there no hope of safety, none of mercy?-yet what says my rending heart? oh God! pardon us! we die! what is human innocence before thee?' The youth clasped his beloved, who trembled in the stormy wind, and thus spake : 'yes my beloved! every thing living is swept from the earth; amidst the tumult of this devastation no mortal howls. Oh dearest! dearest Semira! the next moment will be our last. Yes, all hopes of this life are gone. Every blissful prospect, what we had imagined, in the enraptured moments of our love, is gone: we must die! death stalks onwards; already it encircles our limbs; but let, oh let not as reprobates this general fate await us! we must die! and, oh my beloved! what! oh what would have been our longest, happiest life? a dew drop, which hangs on the rock, and before the morning sun may fall into the sea. Courage then; beyond this life is joy and eternity; let us not tremble, when we make the passage; embrace me and thus let us await our destiny. Soon, oh! my Semira! soon will our souls soar above this desolation; filled with a sentiment of ineffable beatitude they will soar upwards. Oh, God! what bold expectations fill my soul. Yes, Semira, let us raise up our hands to God! His ways are inscrutable to mortals. He who has breathed into us the breath of life, sendeth death to the righteous and the wicked. Well, however, for him who hath followed the ways of virtue. "Tis not for life we supplicate, most righteous! take us to thy tribunal: but oh! enliven that hope, that blissful hope of inexpressible happiness which no death can again disturb. Then may ye roll, ye thunders! then mayst thou rage, oh desolation! dash over us, then, ye waves! praised be He, the righteous, praised be He; may this be the last thought of our soul in its mortal tenement.' Courage and joy animated the beauteous countenance of Semira; she stretched forth her hands in the tempest, and exclaimed: The Rural Repository. SATURDAY, MARCH 29, 1834 MARCH OF IMPROVEMENT.--We think we have reason to As the celebrated and haughty Seymour, We believe America is destined to be, prouder than ever speaker of the house of commons in England, || Rome was, and we also imagine, that in the universal march to greatness, the North River towns must stand was riding out one day in his carriage, he met pre-eminent. Hudson, too, will be among the number. a large west country wagon, which he was It is but a small stretch of fancy, to deck the long line o astonished did not turn out of the road in low land in the centre of our river, with buildings of compliment for his dignity. As the wagoner commercial and domestic business--to see our Southern bay, like a forest, as the naked masts, and spars, and approached him Seymour raised his gold-shrouds, lie huddled together-the foot of the tall bluft headed cane and made a stroke at him. The below clothed with the establishments of industry-and driver, falling back his whip's length, soon life, and beauty, and specimens of grandeur pervading every other section-True, we may not behold these convinced the courtier of his error; who, results-we may not be here to trace the broad flower smarting under his well applied lash, exclaimed, Sirrah, villain, I'll commit you to jail; I'll send you to the devil; dont you know who I am-I am the Speaker, rascal! D-n you then said the countryman, why didn't you speak before! from the seed which we are planting-but the germ will PROSPECTUS OF THE RURAL REPOSITORY, THE WORLD.-The world which the young man figures to himself smooth and quiet as the lake in the valley, he will find a sea foaming with tempests and boiling with whirlpools: he will be sometimes overwhelmed by the waves of violence, and sometimes dashed || Eleventh Volume, (Second New Series.) against the rocks of treachery. Amidst wrongs and frauds, competitions and anxieties, he will wish a thousand times for seats of quiet; and willingly quit hope, to be free from fear. DEVOTED TO POLITE LITERATURE, SUCH AS MORAL AND SEN TIMENTAL TALES, BIOGRAPHY, TRAVELING SKETCHES, On Saturday, the 7th of June, 1834, will be issued the LITERARY PREMIUMS. The publisher of the Rural Repository, desirous of For the best POEM (not less than forty lines) $5. 175. envelope of the name and residence of the writer. The merits of the pieces will be determined by a Committee of Literary Gentlemen selected for the purpose and will, after being decided upon, be considered the property of the publisher. In all cases the articles intended for the prizes must be POST PAID, or they will not be attended to. CONDITIONS. The RURAL REPOSITORY will be published every other Saturday, in the Quarto form, and will contain twenty-six numbers of eight pages each, with a title page and index to the volume, making in the whole 212 pages. It will be printed in handsome style, on Medium paper of a superior quality, with new type; making, at the end of the year, a neat and tasteful volume, the contents of which TERMS.-The Eleventh volume, (Second New will be both amusing and instructive in future years. rate of One Dollar per annum in advance or, One Dollar Series) will commence on the 7th of June next, at the low & Fifty Cents, at the expiration of three months from the time of subscribing. Any person, who will remit us Five Dollars, free of postage, shall receive sir copies, and any person, who will remit us Ten Dollars, free of postage, shall receive twelve copies and one copy of either of the previous volumes. No subscriptions received for less than one year. Names of Subscribers with the amount of subscriptions to be sent by the 7th of June, or as soon after as conveWILLIAM B. STODDARD. nicut, to the publisher, Hudson, N. Y. March, 1834. EDITORS, who wish to exchange, are respectfully requested to give the above a few insertions, or at least a passing notice, and receive Subscriptions. To Correspondents. COMMUNICATIONS are gathering fast upon our table, and some have already received their final doom, i. e. carefully laid under the table. The poetry of D. O. W.' is not as good as we would wish. We think his prose efforts are much the best-In fact some of his metrical compositions could be so transformed and would read much better. B.' gives us a lengthy article in blank verse, but it is dull, incorrect, and wonderfully lame in many other respects. 'C. L. S.' is in quite high dudgeon because we could not decypher his quail tracks. To be candid, we finally did unravel it, but imperfection in ideas was so legible, we laid it by. 'C. D's.' effusions are received and shall be attended to. Letters Containing Remittances, the amount of Postage paid. Received at this Office, ending Wednesday last, deducting C. C. Lake, & S. Yan, Springville, N. Y. $2.00; S. A. Barnum, S. Lee, Ms. $1,00; O. W. Blanchard, Victory, N. Y. 80,814; A. Reynolds, Washington, N. Y. $1,00; J. Mabee, Palatine, N. Y. $1.00; E. P. Seymour, Silver Creek, N. Y. $1,00; P. M'Murchy, Bethel, Ohio, $1,00; N. Y. $1,00. J. Barney, S. Rutland, N. Y. $1,00; L. B. Lobdell, Victor, SUMMARY. A law to ratify the agreement made by the commissioners of New-York and New Jersey, relative to the boundary Jine and jurisdiction between the two states, has passed the Legislature of New-York. A similar law has also passed the Assembly of New-Jersey. An extensive paper factory has been established at New Orleans, with an engine of one hundred and fifty horse power, capable of manufacturing paper of all kinds, from letter to wrapping paper. It is said that the idle and expensive custom of firing blank cartridges and shot at St. Helena, to bring to Merchant vessels, approaching that harbor, will be done away with. It is time. At Danvers, Mass. the use of ardent spirits has been generally relinquished, and the council of the place have ceased issuing licences for the sale of the article. The inhabitants of Erserum, in Turkey, date the foundation of their city in the time of Noah. The oldest inhabitants cannot contradict it. years. On the 21st inst. Susan, daughter of William Nash, aged 1 year and 8 months. On the 22d inst. Mrs. Mary Fellows, aged 74 years. Suddenly at Centerville, on the 18th inst. after a brief but very severe illness, Mrs. Lovina L. wife of Dr. R. H. Mesick, aged 24 years. In Austerlitz, on the 24th inst. Mrs. Zipporah Maynard, wife of Mr. Joshua Maynard, in the 73d year of her age. |