In this vessel he remained nearly a year.

Suthgate, the pure and beautiful, would never| In this situation he endured many hardships,
have remained there, had strength been give not the least of which was a deprivation of
her to remove from a pillow so polluted. Bu books, for during the whole period he did not
she heeded not her resting place, for sh see a single book except the Coasting Pilot.
might have been stretched upon a rack with-
out knowing it, so busy was her sick min
with the thoughts of guilt and death. She
turned her head a little, and opened her meek
eyes to his, as they were bent on her with an
expression which she had never met before.
Is there no hope, no doubt-must he die?'
It was the dove appealing to the serpent.

in with vehement expostulations. His uncleus not to say. Certain we are that Gracel
shnok off the youth's hand from his arm, ex-
claiming, with some warmth, Harry I will
listen to you no more-nothing but death can
separate me from my child,”—and, as if to
avoid further importunity, he hurried down
the hill, and stepping upon that rock yonder,
was preparing to discharge his gun. Blair
was always passionate. Then, his disappoint-
ment drove him to fury. Siezing his rifle, he
lifted it to his shoulder, exclaiming, then by
your death be it !"-and, before I could pre-
vent the fatal act, he had fired. You know
the rest, yet I would add my belief, that the
· Grace Suthgate,' said Hinman, slowly
deed of guilt was perpetrated, from the blind and impressively, there is a way-I can save
fury of the moment, and not from premedi-him-marry me aud I will.'
tated, malice. I have now told you what my
evidence must be before a court of justice.'
Grace made no answer or comment. She
was sitting with her elbows on her work-table
and her face buried in her hands. Not a sob

nor a groan broke from her lips as this proof of crime was laid before her, and she was so still, that it almost seemed that her breath

.

At this period, the reports of his miserable condition which had reached the ears of Carlile, induced him to send for Gifford, and again place him at school. Here he made such progress, expecially in arithmetic, his darling study, that he was soon at the head of the school. His situation, however, was not destined to be of long continuance. Carlile concluded to apprentice him to a shoemaker, and he was accordingly bound till he should attain the age of twenty-one. A cold shudder crept over the poor girl-Up to this time, the only book he had she broke feebly from his arms, and sat read except the bible, was a black-letter roupright on the ground. I would go home,'mance, called Parismus and Parismenes, said she, I would be alone.' and a few old magazines. He hated his new profession with a perfect hatred, and made no progress in it; and was consequently little regarded in the family. He secretly prosecu'I will think I will pray to do right,' sheted his favorite study at every interval of said, shrinking from his arm, and collecting leisure.-These intervals were not very freher strength to descend the hill.

Promise that you will think of what I have said, replied Hinman, supporting her, as she arose and moved away.

[Concluded in our next.] BIOGRAPHY.

From the Rainbow.

William Gifford.

THE world derives a double advantage from the lives of men who, amid the hardships and difficulties which an humble birth and humbler means throw in their way, rise to intellectual eminence. By their labors they promote the cause of science and learning, and by their examples show how much can be done, with perseverance, by those who with hopes as high and aspirations as ardent, have not their resolution. Such is the life of Gifford.

ing had stopped. She remained thus inmove-
able and speechless for a time as if stupified
with the guilt of her last earthly object of
love. Still her mind was busy; all the trans-
actions of the few last weeks flashed through
it in quick review. There was one hope.-
Hinman hated her cousin-he might have
spoken falsely. She resolved to go to the
blasted pine and mark the position of the
fatal rock-if it was concealed-if a bush or
a tree grew between that and the spot where she
had seen her cousin standing, she determined
to believe in his innocence; if not her heart
sickened at the alternative, for then Hinman's
story must be true. Without speaking, and
heedless that any one Was present, she
arose and left the house. Hinman saw the
direction she was taking, and followed her
unnoticed. She walked very slowly, as if William Gifford was born-in 1775, at Ash
fearing too early conviction. She paused a burton, in Devonshire. His father had early
moment at the spot of trampled grass where ruined himself by his wildness and prodigality,
her father's body had rested, and then went and died of a broken-down constitution before
41p the hill. She reached the old pine, and he was forty, leaving his family in destitute
turned slowly with her face to the rock. It circumstances. The wife, in less than a
projected out from the face of the hill, and
there was no tree-no bush to obstruct the
view-even the crevices and spots of moss
were plainly discernible. Her father had been
murdered. A pang came over her, as if her
heart had been cleft in twain by a sharp knife.
Visions of the gallows-the halter-and her
cousin the murderer, for a victim flashed
through her mind. Her brain reeled, and
she would have fallen headlong from the
eminence, had not James Hinman sprang
from behind aneighboring tree and caught her
in his arms.

He sat down on a bare root of the pine and laid her head on his bosom. What were the thoughts swelling that bosom it beseems

twelve-month followed her husband to the
grave. I was not quite thirteen,' says her
son, when this happened; my little brother
was hardly two; and we had not a relation
nor a friend in the world. His brother was
sent to the work house, while he himself was
taken to the house of a person named Carlile.
Here he attended school about three months,
and was beginning to make considerable
progress in his studies, when his patron.
tired of the expense, resolved to employ him
as a ploughboy. An injury, however, which
he had received on his breast, some years
before, was found to unfit him for this species
of labor, and he was at length placed on board
a coasting vessel, when little more than thirteen.

quent; and when the use he made of them was found out, they were rendered still less so.

I possessed at this time,' says he, but one book in the world; it was a treatise on algebra, given to me by a young woman, who had found it in a lodging house. I considered it a treasure; but it was a treasure locked up: for it supposed the reader to be well acquainted with simple equations, and I knew nothing of the matter. My master's son had purchased Fenning's Introduction; this was precisely what I wanted-but he carefully concealed it from me and I was indebted to chance alone for stumbling upon its hiding place. I sat up for a greater part of several nights successively, and, before he suspected that his treatise was discovered, had completely mastered it. I had not a farthing on earth, nor a friend to give me one; pen, ink and paper, therefore, were for the most part as completely out of my reach as a crown and a scepter. There was indeed, a resourse; but the utmost caution and secrecy were necessary in applying to it. I beat out pieces of leather as smooth as possible, and wrought my problems on them with a blunted awl; for the rest, my memory was tenacious, and I could multiply and divide by it to a great extent.'

At last, however, Gifford obtained some alleviation of his extreme penury, IIe had scarcely, he tells us, known poetry even by name, when some verses, composed by one of his acquaintances, tempted him to try what he could do in the same style, and he succeeded in producing a few rhymes. He was sometimes invited to repeat them and these repetitions were always attended with applause,

and sometimes with favors more substantial; little collections were now and then made, and he often received sixpence in an evening. To one who had long lived in absolute want of money, such a resource seemed a Peruvian mine. But even this resource was soon taken from him. His master, having heard of his verse-making, was so incensed at what he deemed the idleness of the occupation, and especially to some satirical allusions to himself, or his customers, upon which the young poet had unwisely ventured, that he seized upon and carried away all his books and papers, and even prohibited him in the strictest manner from ever again repeating a|| line of his compositions. This stroke reduced him to utter despair. I look back,' he proceeds, on that part of my life which immediately followed this event with little satisfaction; it was a period of gloom and savage unsociability; by degrees I sunk into a kind of corporeal torpor; or if roused into activity by the spirit of youth, wasted the exertion in splenetic and vexatious tricks, which alienated the few acquaintances which compassion had left me.'

MISCELLANY.

From the Edinburgh Literary Gazette.

The Soldier's Return.
THE following beautiful instance of filial
affection deserves to be handed down to the
latest generation. Some travelers from
Glasgow were obliged to stop at the small
burgh of Lanark, and having nothing better to
engage our attention, said one of them, we
amused ourselves by looking at the passen-
gers from the windows of our inn, which was
opposite to the prison. While we were thus
occupied, a gentleman came up on horseback,
very plainly dressed, attended by a servant.
He had but just passed our window, when he
alighted, left his horse, and advanced towards
an old man who was engaged in paving the
street.

the old man's arms, who like one beside himself, attempted to speak and sobbing, had not recovered his' senses, when an old woman, decently dressed, rushed from a poor-looking hut, crying- Where is he then? where art thou, my dear William? Come to me, come and embrace your mother.' The captain no sooner observed her, than he quitted his father, and went to throw himself upon the neck of the good old dame.

The scene was now overpowering; the travelers left their room, and increased the number of spectators, witnesses of this most affecting sight. Mr. Wilson, one of the travelers, made his way through the crowd, and advancing to the gentleman, thus addressed him :-' Captain, we ask the honor of your acquaintance; it is impossible to express the pleasure we have had in being witness of this After having saluted him, he took hold of tender meeting with your family; we request the rammer, struck blows upon the pavement the favor of you and yours to dinner at the at the same time addressing the old man, inn.' The captain, alive to the invitation, who stood amazed at the adventure. This accepted it with politeness but at the same work seems to be very painful for a person time replied, that he would neither eat nor of your age; have you no sons who could drink until his youngest brother had recovershare in your labors, and comfort your olded his liberty. At the same instant he deHe had spent nearly six years at his un-age? Forgive me, sir: I have three lads posited the sum for which he had been congenial employment, before any decided who inspired me with the highest hopes; but incarcerated, and in a very short time after, prospect of deliverance opened upon him. the poor fellows are not now within reach his brother joined the party. The whole In the twentieth year of his age, the curiosity to assist their father.' Where are they, family now met at the inn, where they found of a Mr. Cookesley, a surgeon, was directed then? The oldest has obtained the rank the affectionate William in the midst of a towards him by hearing the doggrel repeated of captain in India in the service of the hon-multitude who were loading him with caresses, which we have before mentioned.-Uponorable company. The second has likewise all of which he returned with the utmost learning his history he set a subscription on enlisted in the hope of rivaling his brother.' cordiality. foot among his acquaintances, and soon suc-The old man paused and a momentary tear As soon as there was an opportunity for ceeded in procuring a sufficient sum to free bedimmed his eye. And pray what has free conversation the good soldier unbosomed Gifford from his apprenticeship and maintain become of the third ?'- Alas! he became his heart to his parent's and the travelers. him at school for a few months. security for me; the poor boy engaged to Gentlemen,' said he, to-day I feel, in its The rest of his story may be quickly told. pay my debts, and being unable to fulfil the full extent, the kindness of Providence, to His patrons were so well pleased with his undertaking, he is-in prison.' At this reci-whom I owe every thing. My uncle brought progress that they renewed their bounty and || tal the gentleman stepped aside a few paces, me up to the business of a weaver, but I recontinued him at school for another year.and covered his face with his hands. After quited his attentions badly; for, having Stimulated by his love of knowledge and a having thus given vent to his feelings, he contracted a habit for idleness and dissipadesire to fulfil the expectations of his friends,|| returned to the old man and resumed his tion, I enlisted in a corps belonging to the he made such astonishing progress that in discourse. And has the oldest-this de- East India Company. I was then only a two years and two months from what he generate son-the captain-never sent you little more than eighteen. My soldier-like calls the day of his emancipation, he was any thing to extricate you from your miseries? appearance had been observed by Lord Clifpronounced to be fit for the University. A Ah! call him not degenerate; my son is ton, the commanding officer, with whose long and prosperous life, during which he virtuous; he both loves and respects his benificence and inexhaustible generosity all acquired a distinguished name in the literary father. He has oftener than once sent me Europe is acquainted. My zeal for the service world, was the ample compensation for the money, even more than was sufficient for my inspired him with regard; and thanks to his humiliating and hardships of his youth. He wants; but I had the misfortune to lose it cares, I rose step by step to the rank of capwas the Editor of the ' Quarterly Review,' by becoming security for a very worthy man, tain, and was entrusted with the funds of the which was placed under his management my landlord, who was burdened with a very regiment. By dint of industry and the aid of at its commencement. Mr. Gifford died in large family. Unfortunately, finding himself commerce, I amassed honorably a stock of London on the 31st of December, 1826, in the unable to pay, he had caused my ruin. They £30,000. At that time I quitted the service. 71st year of his age. It is a beautiful circum- have taken my all, and nothing now remains It is true that I made three remittances to stance in his history, and one which shows for me. At this moment, a young man, my father: but the first one, of £200, reached how a generous act sometimes receives a passing his head through the iron gratings of him. The second fell into the hands of a man worldly reward, that he left the bulk of his a window in the prison, began to cry, Fath-who had the misfortune to become insolvent ; fortune to the son of his first most kind and er! father! if my brother William is still and I trusted the third to a Scotch gentleman, disinterested patron, Mr. Cookesley. alive that is he; he is the gentleman who speaks with you.' 'Yes my friend, it is he,' replied the gentleman, throwing himself into

Yale College, June, 1836.

A. J. R.

who died upon the passage; but I hold his receipt, and his heirs will account to me for it.'

After dinner the captain gave his father

plied the servant, somewhat thunderstruckand pray said Madaine Farnum, is the lady in?' The maid took her bundle and made tracks at once-as to living with a double woman, one half of whom came to inquire for the other-it was more than she could do.

ness, and fulfil that resolution so long as life
be spared. There is a power in kindness,
which is next to omnipotent. It is like the
resistless waters that overflow all within its
reach-that asks not how it will be received,
but content with the privilege of bestowing,
finds its own reward in the exercise. Then who
ANECDOTE.-King James I. of England,
would be satisfied to grope his passage finds
went out of his way to hear a noted preacher.
through life like the sloth, which never moves
unless impelled by hunger, and meet no ob-The clergyman seeing the king enter, left his

£200, to supply his most pressing wants;
and at the same time secured to him, as well
as his mother, an annuity of £80, reversable
to his two brothers. Beside, he presented
£500 as a marriage portion to his sister, who
was married to a farmer in indifferent cir-
cumstances; and after having distributed
£50 among the poor, he entertained at an
elegant dinner the principal inhabitants of the
burgh. Such a man merited the favors of
fortune. By this generous sensibility, too,ject made happier by its existence?
he showed indeed that he was worthy of the
distinguished honors so profusely heaped
apon him by the illustrious Lord Clifton.

From the New-York Mirror.
Loneliness.

Oh, who could inhabit this bleak world alone.' THOUGH Society is composed of a heterogeneous mass of wrecks of the fall-though there is wormwood and gall mixed even in the cup of the purest friend earth can produce -though the tear of affection must often be returned with contumely and scorn; yet who would be debarred the luxury of shedding that tear? who would roll himself in his own shell forever, lest he might meet an adder in his path? He who has much converse with the world, and is constantly coming in contact with the dark side of nature's sad leaf, is in great danger of becoming sullen, suspicious, and even irritable and unyielding. But, who would inhabit this bleak world alone? Who would be blessed with the luxury of a warm, kind heart, in a world of wo, like this, and find no eyes with whom he could weep?

account.

He

text to declaim against swearing, for which the king was notorious. When done, James thanked him for his sermon, and asked what connexion swearing had with his text. answered, Since your Majesty came out of your way through curiosity, to meet me, I could not in complaisance, do less than go out of mine to meet you.'

เ

INFIRMITY OF PURPOSE.-The loss of resolute habits is like the loss of his spectacles to a near-sighted man: it implies a loss of the power to recover them.

Letters Containing Remittances, Received at this Office, ending Wednesday last, deducting the amount of Postage paid.

Cure for a Passionate Temper. A MERCHANT in London had a dispute with a Quaker respecting the settlement of an The merchant was determined to bring the question into court, a proceeding the Quaker earnestly deprecated, using every argument in his power to convince the merDURING the season of heavy rains a farmer's chant of his error; but the latter was inflexible. Desirous to make a last effort, the Quaker wife sent her maid servant to a neighboring called at his house one morning, and inquired village on an errand, and scolded her on her of the servant if his master was at home.-return for staying so long. Indeed,' said The merchant hearing the inquiry, and know-the girl, whose clothes were dripping with wet, ing the voice, called aloud from the top you may be glad to see me at all, for the of the stairs, Tell that rascal I'm not at brook is so swollen that I missed my foothome.' The Quaker looking up towards ing and fell in; and if it had not been for him calmly said, 'Well friend; God put thee Providence and another woman, I certainly in a better mind.' The merchaut struck with should have been drowned.' the meekness of the reply, and having more deliberately investigated the matter, became convinced that the Quaker was right and he wrong. He requested to see him, and acknowledging his error, he said, I have one question to ask you-how were you able on various occasions to bear my abuse?' Friend,' replied the Quaker, I will tell thee: Who would feel the dark waves of sorrow I was naturally as hot and as violent as thou rolling fast and thick over his head, and find-art. I knew that to indulge this temper was ing himself alone-hear no kind voice of pity sin, and I found that it was imprudent. and affection, saying I feel for thee? It is not good for man to be alone'-was once spoken by Him who well knew what was in man and what must be his pathway through this vale of tears-what would be his need of reciprocal feeling and assist him to carry life's heavy burden along the dreary road, There is a little mercy for fallen man even in this wilderness of blasted delights; and there are some of the drops which fall upon us. The mingling of tears with one another-the drying of tears from the face of the comfortSelf Forgetfulness. less-and the scattering of little benefits in We see an anecdote going the rounds, of the way of thorns, we have none to pity. a man who went to the post office, and forgot There is something in the hard hearted his own name. The case is a strong one, man, that will melt into softness at the kind but not so strong as one we remember at the hand of pity and attention, in the hour of east, of a Mrs. Farnum, who was always sickness; and I would set that man down as inquiring the way home when she walked child of Charles and Rachel Paul, aged 1 year and 12 days. hopeless, who would be unkind to the wife of out: asked occasionally to be introduced to his youth, she who in the hour of sickness her husband; make acquaintance every week has watched over him in that untiring assiduity, or two with her children; and at length, which woman does ever manifest, if he do

H.C. W. Auburn, N. Y. $2.00; C. H. B. Buffalo, N. Y. $2,00; P. M. Hopkinton, N. Y. $1,00; W. E. C. TiconMontalban, Miss. $10,00; D. A. Arlington, Vt. $1,00; D. B.

deroga, N. Y. $5.00; S. & S. Boardman, O. $1,00; W. R. Bellows Falls, Vt. $1,00; C.S. B. New-York, $1,00.

Notice.

A course of Sunday Evening Lectures, on the most popnlar Vices of the present Age, will be delivered in the the Winter.

Lecture on next Sunday evening, to Young Men.

observed that men in passion always speak
aloud; and I thought if I controlled my voice.
I should suppress my passions. I therefore
made it a rule never to suffer my voice above Universalist Church in this city, and be continued through
a certain key; and by a careful observance
of this rule, I have with the blessing of God,
entirely mastered my natural temper.' The
Quaker reasoned philosophically, and, the Whittaker, Mr. Darius Keller to Miss Catharine Bunt, both
merchant, as every body else may do, was
benefited by his example.

MARRIED,

In this city, on Sunday the 25th inst by the Rev. Mr. of this city.

In Milan, Dutchess Co. on Thanksgiving evening, by the
Rev J. H. Van Wagenen, Mr. Derrick Ham, to Miss Eliza
Stickle, both of Pine Plains.

In Livingston in the same evening, by the same, Mr.
Jonas Row, to Miss Lavina Wey, both of Livingston.
In the same place, on the same evening, by the same,

Mr. William J. Best, of Claverack, to Miss Emeline Miller,

of the former place.

On Wednesday the 21st inst. at Trinity Church, Athens,

by the Rev. Lewis Thibou, Capt. Henry Augustus Green to Miss Emma Northrop, daughter of the late Thomas Stitt, all of Athens.

DIED,

In this city, on the 25th inst. Harriet Newel, youngest On the 19th inst. Mrs. Hannah Carter, in the 71st year of her age.

At Athens, on the 12th inst. George Woolsey, Esq. in the 78th year of his age.

In Chatham, on the 10th inst. Mrs. Margaret Van Hoesen sister of Mr. John Hardick, aged 92 years.

one day, upon returning home from a walk, relict of Jacob Van Hoesen, formerly of this city, and

In Hillsdale, on the 13th inst. at the residence of his father, Ambrose L. Jordan, second son of Col. William

not in that tender, reflecting hour, resolve knocked at her own door, and asked if Mrs.
be will repair his misdeed by uniform kind-Farnum lived there; certainly ma'am,' re- || Jordan, in the 26th year of his age.

SELECT POETRY.

From the Token for 1837.
A Name in the Sand.
BY H. F. GOULD.

ALONE I walked the ocean strand,
A pearly shell was in my hand,
I stooped and wrote upon the sand
My name, the year, the day.
As onward from the spot I passed,
One lingering look behind I cast;
A wave came rolling high and fast,
And washed my lines away.
And so, methought, 'twill shortly be
With every mark on earth from me!
A wave of dark oblivion's sea

Will sweep across the place
Where I have trod the sandy shore
Of time, and been to be no more,
Of me, my day, the name I bore,

To leave no track nor trace.

And yet, with Him who counts the sands,
And holds the waters in his hands,

I know a lasting record stands

Inscribed against my name.

Of all this mortal part has wrought,
Of all this sinking soul has thought,
And from these fleeting moments caught,
For glory, or for shame.

From the Magnolia for 1837.
The Imprisoned Knight.
One of the Knights of the crusading army, after being
imprisoned for years in a Saracen dungeon, was found ex-
piring by his companions who came to liberate him.

YET once again! it seemed the sweep
Of steeds along my prison side!—
'Twas but the murmurs, low and deep,
Of Ocean's neighboring tide.
Alas! the captive's sea-beat cell
Should know that dreary call full well!
Yet oft, at midnight's hour of dreams,
That vision haunts my fancy still;
The echoing clang of armor seems
Blent with the clarion shrill.
I start o'er Memory's desert track
Visions of life and joy come back.
In battle's foremost ranks again

My plumes to freedom's breezes stream;

I hear the shouts of warlike men,
I mark the war-sword's gleam-
I rush to meet the welcome call-
And coldly grasp my dungeon wall!
And brighter, softer fancies come

To cheer my fevered spirit's gloom-
Sweet visions of a cherished home,

Where flowers of beauty bloom-
And voices young and loved, whose tone
Blessed me ere sorrow yet was known.
Oh! could the wanderer hope once more
Those vales of light and bliss to tread-
Beside that peaceful, shaded shore
To lay his weary head!
To hear those tones of love-and feel
Their freshness to his bosom steal!

With spirit unsubdued I've borne

For years the dungeon and the chain;
And prayed, by exile's anguish worn,
One boon for all my pain:
That I, once free from hostile hand,
Might find a grave in Christian land.
A burning weight is on my brow-
My bosom's weary strife is past-
Yet more I pant for freedom now,

Though life is ebbing fast.
It may not be! this deadly pain
Bites deeper than the captive's chain.
This sudden gleam! my closing eyes
Can scarce endure the unwonted light.
A voice-it bids the prisoner rise-
I cannot seek the fight!

Mine arms is all too weak to bear
With knightly grasp, the shield or spear.
I know you-comrades !-and my heart

To greet your coming yet would thrill,
But Death, who coldly claims his part,

Bids its last pulse be still!
And ye- for I was ne'er a slave-
Will lay me in a soldier's grave!

'I AM tempted, here, to transcribe one of the noblest
poems ever written in our language. It may be familiar to
some of my readers, but it is worth a hundred perusals:
while to those who have never seen it, I convey a treas-
ure and a talisman-a memento mori. The author, HER-
BERT KNOWLES, wrote it at twilight, in the church-yard of
Richmond, England. Shortly afterward, he died and was
buried in the flower of his manhood.'-The Knickerbocker.

The Dead.

'Methinks it is good to be here: if thou wilt, let us build three tabernacles, one for thee, one for Moses, and one for Elias.'-The Bible.

METHINKS it is good to be here;

If thou wilt, let us build--but for whom?
Nor Elias nor Moses appear;

The abode of the dead, and the place of the tomb.
But the shadows of ev'ning encompass with gloom

Shall we build to Ambition? Ah no!
Affrighted, he shrinketh away;

For see, they would pin him below,

In a dark narrow cave, and begirt with cold clay,
To the meanest of reptiles, a peer and a prey.

To Beauty? Ah no!-she forgets
The charm that she wielded before;

Nor knows the foul worm that he frets
The skin that but yesterday fools could adore,
For the smoothless it held, or the tint that it wore.
Shall we build to the purple of Pride--
To the trappings that dizen the proud?
Alas! they are all laid aside :

For here's neither wealth nor adornment allowed
Save the long winding-sheet, and the fringe of the
shroud.

Unto Riches! Alas! 'tis in vain ;
Who here in their turn have been hid,

Their wealth is all squandered again;
And here in the grave are all metals forbid,
Save the tinsel that shines on the dark coffin-lid.

To the pleasures that mirth can afford?
The revel, the laugh, and the jeer?
Ah! here is a plentiful board;

But the guests are all mute at their pitiful cheer,
And none but the worm is a reveler here.

Shall we build to Affection and Love?
Ah no! they have withered and died,
Or flown with the spirit above!
Friends, brothers, and sisters are laid side by side,
Yet none have saluted, and none have replied.

Unto Sorrow? The dead cannot grieve; Not a sob, not a sigh meets mine ear,

Which-compassion itself could relieve;

Ah, sweetly they slumber, nor love, hope nor fear-
Peace, peace, is the watch-word-the only one here.
Unto Death, to whom monarchs must bow?
Ah no! for his empire is known,

And here there are trophies enow;
Beneath the cold head, and around the dark stone,
Are the signs of a scepter that none can disown.
The first tabernacle to Hope we will build,
And look for the sleepers around us to rise;

The second to Faith, which insures it fulfilled,
And the third to the Lamb of the great Sacrifice,
Who bequeathed us them both, when he rose to the
skies!

Fraternity of Man.
BY HARRIET MARTINEAU.

ALL men are equal in their birth,
Heirs of the earth and skies;
All men are equal when that earth
Fades from their dying eyes.
All wait alike on him whose power
Upholds the life he gave;

The sage within his star-lit tower,
The savage in his cave.

God meets the throngs who pay their vows
In courts their hands have made,
And hears the worshipper who bows
Beneath the plantain shade.

'Tis man alone who difference sees,
And speaks of high and low;
And worships those and tramples these,
While the same path they go.

O! let man hasten to restore

To all their rights of love!

In power and wealth exult no more;
In wisdom lowly move.

Ye great! renounce your earth-born pride,
Ye low! your shame and fear;

Live as ye worship, side by side;
Your common claims revere.

A. STODDARD,

Printer, Bookseller & Stationer,
No. 135, Cor. of Warren and Third Sts. Hudson,
Has constantly for sale, at his Bookstore, a general assort-
ment of School Books now in usc, which will be sold on
the lowest terms; also, a great variety of Miscellaneous
Books, Bibles of all sizes, Blank Books, Writing, Letter and
Wrapping Paper, Lawyers and Justices' Blanks, Writing
and Printing Ink, Shaker Garden Seeds,School Certificates,
Toy Books, Pictures, Stationary, &c. &c. which will be
sold as reasonable as at any other store in the city.

Cash paid for Clean Cotton and Linen Rags.

Almanacks for 1837.

Stoddard's Diary or Columbia Almanack; Comic, David
Crocket's, People's and German Almanacks, for sale at
A. STODDARD'S Bookstore.

THE RURAL REPOSITORY,

IS PUBLISHED EVERY OTHER SATURDAY, AT HUDSON, N. Y. BY
Wm. B. Stoddard.

It is printed in the Quarto form, and will contain twenty-six numbers of eight pages each, with a title page and index to the volume.

TERMS.-One Dollar per annum în advance, or One Dollar and Fifty Cents, at the expiration of three months from the time of subscribing. Any person, who will remit as Five Dollars, free of postage, shall receive siz 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. All the back numbers furnished

to new subscribers.

All orders and Communications must be post paid, to receive attention.

DEVOTED TO POLITE LITERATURE SUCH AS MORAL AND SENTIMENTAL TALES, ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS, BIOGRAPHY, TRAVELING SKETCHES, AMUSING MISCELLANY, HUMOROUS AND

VOL. XIII.-(IV. NEW SERIES.]

SELECT TALES.

From the Portland Magazine.
The Daughter.

BY MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS.
[Concluded.]

HUDSON, N. Y. SATURDAY, JANUARY 14, 1837.

NO. 16.

Is not this as plain as the law against murder. || Ben, who was always up to a joke, took his
and have ye not refined it down by human molasses jug and pail in one hand, while be
legislation? Nay, is there a single divine law knocked Zeph's hat over his eyes with the
which ye in our courts of justice render to other.
the letter, save this- Whoso sheddeth man's
blood, by man shall his blood be shed.'

I say there, you Ben Wheeler, if you'd jest as live, I'll take care of my own hat.' cried the sufferer, tugging to get the refrac

Paris Hill, even with its multiplied inhabit-tory chapeau from over his great nose, which ants, seldom contained so dense a crowd as that collected to witness the trial of Henry Blair. From eight to ten in the morning, people had been flocking to the village from all directions, some on foot, some on horseback and others crowded into the numerous waggons which lined the fences on either side of the main street.

Halloo, you Zeph Potter, jest wait a minute and I'll be your company,' cried Benjamin Wheeler, a tall lathy farmer, as he tucked a wooden rum bottle under his arm, and hauled a tin pail of butter and an empty nrolasses jug from under his waggon seat.

projected like a wedge between it and his face. Ben broke off short in a horse-laugh which followed his manly exploit, and drew back with instinctive respect, for a young female in deep mourning passed him at that moment, leaning on the arm of the county sheriff. Her large sorrowful eyes were raised for a moment, as she passed the boisterous man, as if in wonder that any thing could be merry at such a time.

It was her father the man killed,' whispered Ben to his friend, who had set his nose at liberty, and was again shouldering his bag. You don't say so!-wal, I swow, I hope they'll hang the varmint.'

HINMAN followed her at a distance, till she reached the house. When there she shut herself in her room, and kneeling with her Bible before her, searched diligently for such passages as related to capital punishment. She read, reflected and prayed, and her opinion was formed from the best of sources. She had no doubt of her cousin's guilt. She knew it to be impossible that he should have killed her father accidentally, situated as the two parties were at the time of the murder. She herself saw him raise the rifle deliberately to his shoulder; and, though her eyes had been turned before the precise aim was taken, she had seen the effect. What would her evidence be but a confirmation of Hinman's ?-and, of the truth of his While the two friends were making their statement, she had almost positive proof, for Wal, come along then, these'ere dried way to the store, Grace Suthgate had entered how could he have known that Blair had asked apples an't none of the lightest I can tell the court-house. Her thick mourning veil her of her father, as had been agreed upon you,' replied Zephaniah, stopping short and was drawn over her face, as she took the most in the morning of the fatal day, unless he settling a well packed bag more firmly on his remote station on the seat prepared for the had indeed heard the conversation he affirmed shoulder, come, hurry along, for I've got witnesses, and drew her black shawl tightly to have taken place between the uncle and a tarnal long list o'notions to get, afore I can around her person, as if that could conceal nephew? Yet, fully convinced of the crime as go in to see that college chap hauled over the her from observation. The room was crowdshe was, the young girl felt justified in saving coals.' ed, the Judges and jury had taken their the life of a human being at any sacrifice, Benjamin gathered his merchandize togeth-places, and Henry Blair was at the bar. His even though he had committed the grievous er, and the two began to navigate their way face was pale, and bore a settled expression, crime of slaying a fellow man-her own through the noisy crowd collected before the as if he had called forth all his resolution to almost idolized parent-in a moment of in-store they wished to enter, go through the approaching trial; yet occasane passion. There was no medium punish- By gracious, look at them'are goggles,' sionally, when he encountered the curious ment; it was death or acquittal with Blair; exclaimed Zephaniah, facing round to a man. glances of the crowd, his brow would flash and Grace Suthgate was one of those who who, with green spectacles on his nose, and crimson, his lip curl haughtily and those shuddered at the sanguinary cry for human two huge law books under his arm, was mak-who gazed, shrunk from the flashes of his life, which is still continued by our laws, ing his way to the courthouse. punish blasphemy against the Most High with imprisonment and fine.

6

As Zephaniah stood gaping after the green eyed lawyer, some roguish wight in the crowd plucked at the bag behind, the string gave way, and half of his load made for itself a quick passage to the ground.

Legislators!-ye who make a common spectacle of human suffering, hardening the hearts of the public thereby, refer us not to the scripture for a justification of your cruel 'Now, if that an't too bad,' exclaimed Zephdemand of blood for blood! Have not the aniah, setting down his bag, and patiently same scriptures said, he who blasphemeth stuffing the strings of apples back to their against the Lord shall be punished with death? place. As he was so employed, his friend

indignant eye. When Grace entered, the proud composure of his look vanished, a mist came over the eyes-and with a half-stifled groan, he grasped the railing of the bar with both hands-and letting his face fall on them, remained till the clerk arose to arraign him. The charge was that of wilful murder. Grace Suthgate bent forward in painful anxiety, as the indictment was read; and, when the clerk turned to the prisoner, and demanded, in a