,_-
l
-
-ht\a‘ .
s
‘at.
‘.-
u.
. ‘J.’
, .
ll
r
‘4
COTTAGE SCENE-_'
‘ BY iiiits. SIGOURNEY.
I saw a cradle at a cottage door,
Where the fair _mother, with her clieerful wheel,
Carrolled so sweet ii song, that the young bird,
Which timid, near the threshold sought for
. ' .
‘Paued on his lifted foot, and raised his head,
As if to listen. The rejoicing bees_
Nestled in throngs amid the woodbine cups
I That o’er the lattice clustered. A clear Stream
Came leaping from its sylvan height, and poured
,.IlIusic upon the pebbles—aiid the winds
Which gently ’mid the vernal braiches played
Their idle freaks, brought showering blossoms
' down, -
Surfeiting earth with sweetness.
O
S.-.d I came
From weary commerce with the heartless world;
But when I felt upon my withered cheek
My mother N ature’s breath-—and heard the trump
Of those gay ins'ects_at their lionied toil,
Shining like winged _]ewelry—and drank
The hea'thful odor of the flowering trees.
And bright eyed violets—but_, most of all,
When I beheld mild slumbering Innocence,
Of those affections which do purify wig;
‘And renovate the soul, I turned me back
In gladness, and with added strength, to run
My weary race--lifting a thankful prayer_
To Him who showed me some bright tints of
Heaven ,_
Here on the earth, that I might safer walk
Andifirmer combat sin, and surer rise
fFrom earth to Heaven.
Fiom the Iinickerbockc-_i-.
THE ..ACC EPT ED SACRIFICE.
" Give me thy heart."
What shall we ofi‘er‘Thee, thou God of love !
Thou who didst build the heavens and mould
‘ the earth ; _
Thou who didst hang the sparkling stars above,
And call’dst from darkness light and beauty
forth
From all the treasures of the earth and sea,
VVhat shall we offer Thee '2
Shall we present Thee" gold and glittering gems,
Such as might wreatlie the brows of‘ royalty;
Shall we -pluck roses from their slender stems,
Such as in Sumnier’s graceful b0_\verS may be 5
And shall we lay them_ at Thy holy feet,
An offering fair and meet?
-Or shall we deck Thy temple with the spoil
Of mighty cities and rich palaces, .
Strew flowers, fling on the altar wine and_oil,
And pour around Thee mingling melodies
Of lutes and voices in soft liarniony,
A Breathing up praise to Thee ‘l
Or shall we bring the treasures of the field,
When the rich Autumn fills her flowing horn ;
r The russet fruits the loaded branches yield+—
The clustering grapes, the golden waving
The fldiiiiiirof Summer—the sweet buds of
Spring—- _ _
Oh ! which, which shall we bring’!
i
- There is a voice which saith, “Oh, dearer far
Than all the earthly treasures yecan give,
The pure aspirings of the spirit are, , _
When in the light of Truth it loves to live 2”
Such be our ofl'erings at Thy holy shrine-
: Our hearts, our hearts are thine!
lllsnv ANN Bnowiii.
- THE VILLAGE PRIZE.
In one ofthe loveliest villages of old Virginia,
there lived, in the year 175- an old man whose
daughter was declared by universal consent, to
be the loveliest maiden in all the country round.
" '.The veteran in his youth, had been athletic and
muscular above all his fellows; and his breast,
where he always wore them, could show the
adorninents of three medals; received for his vic-
tories in gymnastic feats when a young man.
His daughter was now eighteen, and had been
sought in marriage by many suitors. One
brought wealth-anotncr a fine person-—another
this, and another that. But they were all re-
fused by the old iiian, who became at last a by
' word for his obstinacy among the young men of
the village and neigliborliood.
At length the nineteenth birth day of Annette,
his charming daughter, who was as amiable and
modest as she was beautiful, arrived. The
morning of that day, her father inyitcd all the
youth of the country to a liziy-making frolic,.--.-
Seventeen handsome and industrious young men
assembled. They came not only to make hay,
but also to make love to the fair Annette. In
three hours they had filled the father's barn with
newly dried grass,’ and their own hearts with
‘love. Annette, by the faiher’s coiiimaud, had
.,brought the malt liquor of her own brewing,
-":7"=ivliicli she presented to each enamored swain
_._.'{’ill‘l her own haiids‘. _ _
-’=-zg.,,..“No\v, my boys." said the old keeper of the
‘ii i:jiiwel.tliey all coveted, as leaning on their pitch-
jforks they assembled around his door in the cool
of the evening: “Now,” my lads, you have
nearly all ofyou made proposals for my Annette,
Now you see, I don’t care any thing about
money or talents, book larning nor soldier lam-
' ing—-I can do as well by my gal as any man in
the country. But I want her to marrya man of
my own grit. Now, you know, or ought to
know, when I was a youngster, I could beat any
tbinggin all Virginy in the way of leaping. I
got my old woman by beating the smartest man
on the Eastern shore, and I took the oath and
swore it, that no man shall marry my daughter
without jumping for it. You tln(l€fS'.Zlll(.l me
boy’s. _There’s the green, and here’s Ann_ette,”
lie added, taking his daughter who stood timiuly
behind him, by the hand. “ Now the one that
jumps the farthest on a dead level, shall marry
Annette, this very night.” _
This unique. address was received by the
’.,young men with applause. And many a youth,
as he bounded gaily forward to the arena of trial,
cast a glance of anticipated victory back upon
the lovely object of village cliivalry. _ I he maid-
ens left their looms and quilting frames, the
children their noisy sports, the slaves their labor,
and the old men their arm chairs and long pipes,
to witness thetriumph in the success of their vic-
tor. All prophecied and many wished that it
would be young Carioll. He was the hand-
‘ -somest and best humored youth in the country,
and all knew that a strong and mutual. attach-
.rnent existed between him and the fair Annette.
Carroll, had won the reputation of being the
Hbest leaper." and in a country where such
. athletic achievements were the sine qua non. ofa
‘\-nails cleverness, this was no ordinary honor.
. ?
Inga contest like the present, he therefore had
evfy advantage over his fellow athletce.
' Pbe arena allotted for this liyniciieabcontcst,
‘was a level space in front ofthe village int). and
near the centre ofthe grass plat, in the midst‘ of
the village, denominated the “green.” '1 he
yerdiire was quite worn off at this place by pre-
i/ions exercises ofa similar kind, and a hard sur-
face of sand more befittingly for tie purpose to
which it was to be used, supplied i 5 place.‘
The father of the lovely, blushing, and withal
I ruprv prize (for she well knew who would win)
. with their other patriarchal villagers were the
judges appointed to decide upon the claims of
the several competitors. The last time Carroll
tried his skill in this exercise, he “ cleared," to
uge;he1eaper’s phrascology, twenty-one feet and
gne inch. _ .
‘ The signal was given, and by lot the young
men stepped into tliearcnzi. _
55 Edward Gmyson, seventeen feet,”_cricd one
of the judges, The youth had done his utmost.
£
“_ noN"i‘ GIVE ni- '.l‘IIE siiir.”-
VOL. xx. .
He was a pale intellectual student. But what
had intellect to do in such an arena '1 VVithout
a look at the fair maiden he left the ground. .
“-Dick Boulen, nineteen feet.” Dick with a
laugh turned away, and replaced his coat.
“ Harry Preston, nineteen feet and three
inches. ‘Well done, Harry Preston,” shouted
the spectators, “ you have tried hard for the acres
and homestead.” I-Iarry also laughed, and
swore he only jumpcd'for the fun of the thing.
Harry was a rattle braincd fellow, but never
thought of matrimony. He loved to walk and
_talk, and laugh and romp with Annette, but sober
marriage never came into his head. He “only,
jumped for the fun of the thing.” He would not
have said so, if he was sure ofwinning.
" Charley Simms, fifteen feet and a half.”—-
Hurrah for Charley! Charley’ll win I” cried
the crowd good linmoredly. Charley Simms
was the eleverest fellow in the world. His
mother had advised him to stay at home, and
told him if he ever won a wife, she would fall in
love with his good temper, rather than his legs‘.
Charley however made atrial ofthe lattei"stcapa
bilitics and lost. Man refused to enter i ie list
altogether. Others iiizfde the trial and only one
ofthe leapers had cleared twenty feet.
" Now,” cried the villagers, “ let’s see Henry
Carroll. He ought to beat this,” and every one
appeared, as theycalled to mind the mutual love
of the last eom_petitor,_anrl the sweet Annette, as
if tliey heartily wislie] This success._
Henry stepped to his post‘ with a firm tread.
His eye glanced with confidence around upon
the villagers and rested, before be bounded
ll)t'WZ1l'§l, upon the face of Annette, as if to catch
therefrom that spirit and assurance which the
occasion called for. Returning the encouraging
glance with which she met his own, with a proud
suiilc upon his lip, he boundedforward.
“ Twenty-o'ne feet and a half!” shouted the
multitude, repeating the annoiincement ofone of
tliejudgés,i‘“ twenty‘-one feet and a’ hall. Harry
Carroll forever-Annette and Harry.” Hands,
caps, and hankercliiefs waved over the heads of
the spectators, and the eyes of the delighted
Annctteisparkletl with joy. ,
W'ben Harry Carroll moved to his station to
strive for the prize, a tall, gentlemanly young
man, in a military undress frock coat. who had
rode up to the Inn, dismounted and joined the
spectators unperccived, stepped suddenly for-
ward, and with a knowing eyc. iiieasu red deliber-
ately the space accomplished by the last leaper.
He was a stranger in the village.d [His hand}
some face and cas dress attractc, tie eyes o_
the village maiden: and his manly and sinewy
frame, in wliicli symmetry and strength were
‘nnppily united, called forth the ndniiratioii of the
you ng uien. _
“ Mnyhap. sir stranger, you think you can
beat that,” said one of the by-‘standeis. remark-
iug the manner in which the eye ofthe stranger
scanned the area. “If you can leap beyond
Harry Carroll you'll beat the best man in the
colonies.” The truth of this observation was
assented to by :1 general niuruiur. _
“ Is it for mere amusement you are pursuing
this pastime?” inquired the youiliful stranger,
“ or is there a-prize for the winner '1”
“ Annette. the loveliest and wealthiest of our
village maidens. is to be the reward ofthe victor,”
cried one ofthe iudrrcs.
“Are the lists] opian to all '1” _
“ All young sir!" replied the fzithcrol Annette
with interest, his youthful zirdor rising as he sur-
voycd the proportions of the straight linibcd
'oungsiran er. _
i “ She is tlie bridcofliiin who out-leaps Henry
Carroll ; ifyou will try you are free to do so.-
Dut let me tell you, Harry Carroll has no cquzil
in Virginia. Here is my daughter. sir ; look at
bar and make your trial.” _
The young officerglauccd upon the trembling
maiden, about to be olffered upon the altpr of hplr
fatlier’s Ull(.‘O[l( uerab e moiiomauia. wit i an a ,-
tiiiriiig eye. ‘The poor girl looked at Harry.
who stood near with a. troubled brow andangry
eye, and then cast upon the new competitor an
it iloring «lance. “
Dl’1aciiigbliis coatin the hands of one of the
judges, he drew a siisli he wore beneath it tighter
around his waist, and tiikingthe appointed stand,
made, apparently without ellbrl, the bound that
was to decide the happiness or iiiiser)’ Ol H3”)!
.. ‘site.
Emil‘ ’i\‘i‘iIi(l3[ll.y-lW'O feel one inch I" shouted the
judge. The announcement was repeated with
surprise by the spectators, who crowdcd around
the victor, filling the air witlih cloiiglratulations,
ot iinniinrrled. however, wit ou murmurs
lioiii those tivho were more nearly interested in
the happiness ‘ofthe lovers. _ _
The old man approached, and grasping his
hand exultingly, called him his son, and said he
felt prouder of him than if he were a prince-
Physical activity and strength were the old
leaper’s true patents of nobility. .
Rcsuming his coat, the victor sought with his
eye the fair prize he had, although nameless and
unknown, so fairly won. She leaped upon her
f-.ulier‘s arm, pale and distressed. _
Her lovclar stood aloof, glpoqiy pnd t1i0t‘_lIfif-‘(:1-
adniirino tie SU eriority o ties ranger in ' n
excl-ciseéin whiclilie prided himself as unrival-
led, while he hated him for his success. _
“Annette, my pretty prize." said the victor
taking her passive hand—-“1 have won you fair-
ly.” Annctte’s cheek became paler than mar-
ble; she trembled like an aspen leaf, and clung
closer to her father, while the drooping eye
sought the form of her lover. His brow grew
- str n er'slan uace.
dafiilaliziiiiaa WOT] goo, mygprelty flower. 30 mill“?
you a bride !—-tremble not so violeiitly—I mean
hot myself, however proud I might be,” be
added gallantly, “to wear so fine, a gem next
my heart. _Perliaps,” and he castliis cyearoiind
inquiringly, while the current of life leaped joy-
fully to,her brow, and a murmur of applause
ran through the_crowd—“ perhaps there is some
favored youth among the competitors, \:I,l!O has a
higher c_lziim to tbisjewcl._ ‘Young sir, be con-
tinued, turning tothesurprised Henry, “methinks
you were victorin the list before me. Istroye not
for the maiden, tliougb one could not well strivefor
zi faircr—-but love for the manly sport In Wlllcll
I saw you engaged. You are the Victor. and 33
such, with the permission of this assembly,.re—
ccivc fioin my hand the prize you have so fairly
and lionorabl won." _
The yputli’ sprgng foriwlard and grasp::lAliis
hand witi rzititu e, ant tie next mon_ie n-
ncttu was wiicping from pure joy upon his shoul-
ders. The welkin rung with the acclamations of
the delighted villagers, and amid the temporary
excitement produced by this act, the stranger
withdrew from the crowd, mounted his horse,
and spurred at a brisk trot through the village.
That night, Henry and Annette were married,
and the health ofthe mysterious and noble heart-
ed stranger was drunk in overflowing bumpers of
rustic beverage. .
In the process oftiiiie, there were born unto
the married pair, sons and daughters, and Harry
Carroll became Col. Henry Carroll ofthe revo-
lutionary army. -
_One evening, having just returned home after
a hard campaign, he was sitting with his family
on the gallery of his handsoiiie country house,
when an advance coiirier rode tip and announc-
ed the approach of General \Vasliirigton and
suite, informing him that he should crave his
hospitality for the night. The necessary direc-
tions were given in' reference to his household
preparations, and Col.,Carroll, ordering -.__his
horse, rode forward to iiicct and escort to his
liotiso the distinguished -guest, whom he had
never yet seen, altbougli_sei‘viiig in the same
widely extended army. ‘ '
That evening, at the table, Annette, now be-
come the dignified, iiiatroiily and still hand-
some Mrs. Carroll, could not keep her eyes frotn
the face of the illustrious visitor. Every nio-
mcnt or two she would steal aglance at his
commanding features, and halfassurcdly, shake
her head and look again, to be still more puzzled.
Her absence of mind and embarrassment at
length became evident to her husband, who in-
quired affectionately if she was ill.
“ I suspect Colonel," said the General, who
had been some ti me, with a quiet meaning rriood,
observing the lady’s curious and puzzled survey
of his features-—“that Mrs. Carroll thinks she
recognizes in me an old acquaintance.” And
he smiled with a mysterious air, as he gazed
upon both alternately.
The Colonel stared, and a faint memory of
the past seemed to revive, as he gazed, while the
lady rose impulsively from her chair, and bend-
ing cagerly forward over the tea urn, with clasp-
ed bands and an eye of intense, eager inquiry,
fixed full upon him, stood for a moment with her
lips parted as ifshc would speak.
“Pardon me, my dear niadain—p:irdon me
Colonel, I must put an end to this scene, I have
become, by'dint of camp-fare and hard usage,
unfit to leap again twenty-two fcetone inch, even
for so fair a bride as one I wot of.
The recognition, with the surprise, delight and
happiness that followed, are to be left to the
imagination ofthe reader.
General \Vasliington was indeed the hand-
some young “ leapcr" whose mysterious ap-
pearance and disappearance in the native village
of the lovers, is still traditionary—and whose
claim to a substantial body of home ficle flesh
and blood was stoutly contested by the village
story tellers, until the happy DENOUNCEDIENI‘
ivhich took place at the hospitable mansion of
Col. .Cai'i'oll.
CLASSICAL ASSOCIATIONS
CONNECTED \VITlI o.timn'rs.
We never think of a garret,but an infinitudo
of melancholy and lanky associations of skin
and bone, poets, and authors, comctlironging to
our imaginations. All ideas of the sins of the
flesh evaporate on our entrance, for if all the
flesh that has ever inhabited a garret were to be
duly weighed in the balances, we are of opinion
that it would not altogether amount to a ton.—-
In walking up the steps that lead to this domi-
ciliary appendage of genius, we are wholly
overcome by the sanctity of the spot. VVe think
of it as the resort of greatness, the cradle and
grave of intellect, and pay homage to it in a
sullen smile, or flood of tears. VVG can never
presume to.‘criter a garret—a place where Gold-
smith fiourisllletl and Cliatterton died-—without
payinga tribute of reverence to the presiding
deity of the place. How venerable does it ap-
pear, atleast if it is a genuine garrct,‘ with its
singular projections, like the fractures in poor
Goldsmith’s face, its tattered and threadbare
walls, like old J olinsoii’s wig, and its iiiiinber-
lcss “loop-holes of retreat” for the north wind
to peep through, and cool the poct’s imagina-
tion.
The very forlorness of its situation inspires
elevated ideas in proportion to its altitude; it
seems isolated from the world, and adapted sole-
ly to the intimate connection that genius holds
with Heaven. It was in a lonely garret far re-
moved from all connection with inoi-tality, that
Otway planned his affecting tragedy of “Venice
preserved ;” and it was in a garrct that he ate
the stolen roll, which ultimately terminated in
his death. It was in a garrct that poor Butler
indited his inimitable Hudibras, and coiivulscd
the King and Court with laughter, while be him-
self writlied in the gnawing pangs of starvation.
A gentleman found Dryden in his old age ex-
posed to the attacks of poverty, and pining in ii
garrct, in an obscure corner of London. “ You
weep for my situation,” exclaimed the venera-
ble poet, on seeing him, “but never mind my
young friend, the pang will be over soon.” He
died a few days afterwards. Poor Cliattcrton !
“the sleepless boy who perished in his pride”
comma’/iced his -immortality in a garrct in
Shoreditcli. For two days previous to his death,
he had eaten nothing; his landlady pitying his
desolate condition, invited him to sup with her:
he spurned the invitation with contempt, and
put an end to his existence by poison. Crowds
inflicted elcgies on_liis memory, the length and
breadth of which filled volumes, while the sub-
jcct of these doleful tributes lies buried in a
common workliouse iii Shoe lane, unnoticed by
epitaph or eulogy. When a iioblcnian h_apper_i-
ed by chance to call upon Johnson, he found this
great author ‘by profession, in ii state of the
most desponding hopelessness; a thing which
an antiquary niiglit perhaps discover _to have
been a table, was stationed in the middle of the
garrct, ii few unfiriislied papers and manuscripts
were scattered about the uncarpeted floor in ev-
ery direction, and the unfortunate owner of these
curiosities had neither pens, ink, paper, nor cre-
dit, to continue his lucubrations. It was about
this time, when threatened to be turned out of
his literary pig-stye, that he applied to Richard-
son, the celebrated novelist, for assistance, who
instantly sent him £5, a sum which relieved
him from misery and a dungeon. Poor Gold-
smith was once seated in his garrct, where the
Deserted Village was written, in faniiliiir cou-
versatioii with it friend, when his pride was con-
NORWALK, CONN. ‘VVEDNESDAY, JULY 5, 1837.
siderably annoyed by the abrupt entrance ofthe
little girl of the house, with, “Pray Mr. Gold-
smith, can you lend Mrs. -.-————- a _t,-hniiibcr-pot
ftill of coals?" The mortified poet was obliged
to return an answer in the iir.g:itive, and endure
the friendly but sarcastic condolence of his coin-
panion. In a garrct either in the Old Bailey, or
in Greeii-arbor-court, the exquisite “Citizen of
the VVorld,” and equally celebrated “Vicar ot
Wakefield,” were written. Of the last meti-
tioiied work, the following ludicrous anecdote is
not, we believe, generally known :
While Goldsmith was completing the closing
pages of his novel, lie was roused from his oc-
cupation by the unexpected appearance of his
landlady, to whom he was considerably in ur-
rears, with a_ huge bill for the last few weeks
lodgings. The poet was tliundcrstruck with stir-
prise and consternation, he was unable to an-
swer her domaiids, either then or in future; at
length the lady relieved the nature of his cin-
bttriassinont, by offeriiig to remit the liquidation
ofthe debt, provided he would accept her as his
true and lawful spouse. His friend, Dr. John-
son, chanced by g'l‘_(38.l'. good luck to come in at
the time, and by advaiicing him a suliicient sum
to defray the expenses of his establishment, con-
sisting only of liiiiiself and dirty shirt, relieved
him from his matrimonial shackles. ,
A literary friend once called to pay Fielding
a visit, and found him in it miserable garrct,witli-
otit either furnitu're or convenience, seated bu a
gin-tub turned up for a table, with :1 common
triill by his side, and a half emptied glass of
brandy and water in his hand. This was the
idea of coiisuiiiiiiated happiness, entertained by
the immortal Tom Jones, by him whose genius
handed down to posterity the inimitable charac-
tor of Square, with his “ etcrn-ril fitness of
things.”
A French poet and his family (we forget their
names) being unable to procure subsistence by
their literary exertions, came to the somewhat
novel expedient of anticipziting the period of
their starvation. They blocked tip the door of
their garret,with the miserable remnants of their
furniture, and locked in each other’s arms, with
their little children starving by their side, coolly
awaiting the period of their final release from
the tliraldom of existence. In the last hours of
sinking nature, the door of their garrct burst
open, and their friend entered, and behold the
parents dying and the children dead. VVith
some difliculty the former were restored to health,
and lived to behold ii youth of misery obliterat-
ed by an old age of honor and linppiness.
Our modern Bloomfield,of rural and pastoral
celebrity, wrote his “'Farmer’s Boy” in a garrct
occupied by sliocmakers, and pursued his poeti-
‘al occupation amid the din of arms, and clat-
tcring of heels. Collins composed his odes in
some such miserable dwelling.
A FR.-§.G;VlI:‘.N'I‘ FOR THE LADIES.
“ Thy graiidniotlier,” said my Uncle Toby.
addressing himself to young‘ Arabella, just from
London, and who was playing the battle of Ma-
rengo on the piauo—“ Thy gl'tl.ll(lm0lllCl‘, child,”
said he, “used to play on an instrument better
than thine.”
“Indeed,” said Arabelln, “ how cotild it have
been better? You know it is a most fashionable
instrument, and is used bycvery body that is
any thing.” ~
“Your grandmother was sonictliing, yet she
never saw a piano forte.”
“But what is the name of the instrument 1--
I‘Ii1(l it strings, or was it played by keys '2”
“ You niustgive me time to recollect the name :
it was indeed a stringed instrument, but was
played by the hand.”
“ By the hand alone’! how vulgar: but I pro-
test I should like to see one, anti papa shall buy.
me one when I return to London. Do you think
he can obtain oiief!"
“ No, you will not probably find one in Lon-
don, but doubtless they may be found in some of
the country towns.” -
“How many strings had it? must one play
with both liands 1 and could one play the double
bass?"
“I know not wlietlier it would play double
bass, as you call it; it was played by both liaiids,
and had two strings.”
“Two strings only’! surely you are jesting;
how could good music be produced by such an
instrument, when the piano has one or two liuii—
dred Cl”
“ Oh, the strings were very long, one about
fourteen feet, and the other might be lengthen-
ed at pleasure to even fifty or more.” ’
“What a prodigious deal of room it must
take up; but no matter, I will have mine in the
old hall, and papa may have an addition built to
it, for he says I shall never want any thing, and
so does mama. VVere the strings struck with
little mallets like the piano, or were they sup-
ported like the liarpsicliord." ‘
“Like neither of these instruments as I recol-
lect; but it produced a soft kind of liuniniing
music, and was peculiarly agi-ceble to the bus-
band and relations of the performer.”
“Oh, as to pleasing one’s husband or rela-
tions, that is all Dicky in the hand fan you know,
but I am determined to have‘ one at any rate.
VVas it easy learnt, and was it taught by French
and Italian masters E” ‘.
“It was easily learnt, but Frenchmen and Ital»
inns scarcely dare show their heads in our coun-
try in those times.”
“Can you possibly recollect the name? How
shall we know what to inquire for 2*”
“ Yes,I do now remember the name, and we
intist inqtiire for a spinning ur/ieel.”’
A I/Veslem Hu.nler’s idea of Loi:e,—-“I say,
Eartliquake, were you ever in love.” “Ali _t
Rollc,'tlicre you are too hard for me; I hardly
know what to say about that. I have sometimes
felt ratlicr queer. When I’ve seen some ofyoiir
Kentucky gals, I’ve felt right funny—-felt as if
somebody was drawing a briiir over me. Now
if you call that love, I have been in love.”—
“Well, I think you have. Do you know any
thing that you would marry l” “ I marry ! what
for? To be always toatjiig a wife through the
woods, or across the swamps, to keep some red
skin from taking her hair off? Fool, who 1-
She’ll be allsorts of a gal who catches me,”
said Earthqualrez a wife is it queer thing ; and
getting one is like takiuga varment out of a hol-
low: you don’t know, until you have got it into
your hand, what sort of athing it is.
Patent Butter-.—We learn from the Silk Cul-
tiirist that the Emperor of Russia has issued a
patent to one of his subjects, for it new method
170
of making butter. It‘ is thus: Siuinicr the milk
while still sweet 1-'3 iniiiiites, taking care not to
burn it, and tlierfcliiirii it, The butter comes
very soon, and is of a qtuility much superior. to
that made in the comiifoii mode. It. is richer,
and preserves its ll2l.V0l' much longer; and the
milk being left sweet, retiiiiis its value for ordi-
nary uses,
’l‘lic experiment is so easy and promises so
much, both in respect to saving of labor and
superior results, that it invites trial very stroiig-
ly. It is now some time since we were a boy,
but our arms ache cvcn yet, to think of the old
style churn.
Living on. Small Jlfciuis.-—-A correspoiidcnt
of the Salem Gazette gives the fiillowing, its the
substance of Dr. A|cott’s lust work :
“I“oi' breakfast, ezit two ceiits worth of dried
apples, without drink. l"ordiniier,driuk ti quart
of water to swell the apples. Take tea with a
friend.”
From the Nulionul .Iulr_'llz'gc7zt:er.
THE IVI.-\Nl)Ai‘-I US CASE.
The Illcuizltznms issued by the Circuit Court
for the District of Ct)lllllll)l.'l, to the Postiiiastci’
General, directed him to give purticiilzir credits,
which by an act of Congress he is ordered to give,
to certain p_rivate ititlivitliiiils who appealed to
Congress forjustice \Vlll('ll they considered to be
\vitlilicld fi'oni tlicni. 'l‘li.'it iiiautlzimiis, after
two weeks cogitations and consideration, the
Postmaster General has refused to obey, in a
paper presented to the court on Saturday last,
backed by an opinion of the Attorney General,
sustaining the Postnizister General in his course.
The papers are ofgrcat length, and, in the im-
practicability of publishing them at large, 11
synopsis oftlicni has been furnislicd by our report-
er,and will be found in another part ofto-day’s pa-
per, in which the substance of the grounds of his
protest against the authority of the Court is be-
lieved to befaitlifully statctl.
With this question, as a quc:tion of law, we
profess not to meddle. It is now under argu-
ment bcfore the Court ; iiud. whatever may be
the decision upon it in that forum, will doubtless
be carried for ultimate decision to the highest
tribunal known to our laws, in whose decision
we are all bound to acqfiiosce.
\Vitlioiit, liowever. touching the iiicrits ofiliis
particiilurqiiestion, we lli'l'/.«fll'tl iiotliiiig in saying.
that, in the pretensioiis put forth in the zirguirieiit
of the Postiiinstcr Gcncrul, we have the elements
of ii contest between the lijxt:t.'ulive and Jiitlicizil
authorities of this Goveriiiiii-tit, in which if the
Executive triumph. there is no longer any law
in the land liir the protection of the rights ofiii-
dividuals agaiiist the wrong,-s of any Executive
ollicers wha,tcvcr, including in that dciiomirizilion
till ersons holding offices at the pleasure ofthe
Executive. If, indeed, the doctrines inaiiitaiiied
on this occasion be sustained, the upprobzitirin or
consent ofthe President oftlic United States is a
dispensation to all who hold office under him to
coiiiinit any crime whatever, with absolute ini-
punity. This, and no less, is Ilic amount ofilie
Postiiiustcr (.lciicr.'.il's argument (against the
power ofthe court) that the President of the U.
States can at any time “ strike dead” the process
in the hands of the M:-irslizil. by renioviiigliiiii
from office! Thank God. fcllow citizens. that
the zeal oftliis advocate for Execiitive suprcinacy.
has misled him as to the effect of the Executive
power in this case, and ihatwe are not yet the.
slaves of arbitrary power! Courts would be
idle pageants, did they not possess power, incle-
jiendeiit of the Executive authority, to enforce
their legal judgnicnts.
Altiriiiiiig as they are, however, these doc-
trines are yet not entirely new, We can find
their relatives in various public documents issued
by Executive authority under the late adminis-
tration. Tlic essence ofthe whole of them is to
be found in the doctrine that the President ofthe-
Unitcd States, under the plirnscology of ilie
power to “ take care that the laws ofthe United
States be faithfully executed,” is invested wiili
a power parziniouut to all law; that lie is, in
other words‘, bound, by his oath of ollice. to cite-
cute the laws only as he umlerstamls them.
The arguments of the Postmaster General,
upon the composition, of which great pains have
evidently been bestowed,pro/bsscs, ' t-the close of
it, to intend not the slightest disrespect to the
court.
liimsclfto speak the truth. His. address, how-
ever, it is obvious, was not llllClltl8(l_/ill‘ the ‘Court.
because matter is kneaded into it wbicli could
not be iutrodiiccd with :1 purpose entirely differ-
ent from that of an appeal to the intelligence of
that body. In what else, for example, but an
elcctionecring llatltlblll, could such an appeal as
the following to ignorance and vulgar prejudice
find a place ?
Eirtractfrom ./llr. _KemZall's Letter.
“ It cannot be forgotten that the power now
asserted has been slumberiiig from the birth of
the Constitution, (Sec. * " * ' " \Vliy did
not the Bzznlcq/' the United States, instead of
agitatiiig the C0llllll'y,_(Z1l(l I/iuzirlcriuc‘ in the
Capital apply to the C'uu.rI.,/br its Jlglamlrzmus to
compel the Secretary of the Treasury to restore
the public deposites which it was alleged had
been removed from it in contempt of law, and
in violation ofthe Coiistitiitiop '! Have none of
these occasions been sufficient to rouse this giant
power from its enduring slumber _?”
Upon the high handed. iiieasurcs, yvliicli the
Postmaster General has thought proper to pursue.
’ the Courier dc Enquirer makes the following
vcryjust remarks:
We have as yet forborne to consider in detail
this step of the Postmaster Geiieral, and the
broader doctrines upon which it must found it-
self. I-I_e had not yet put the country in posses-
sion of the reasons he had to allege; and it was
useless, by anticipating them, to argue against
him at disadvziiitage.
The first general doctrine oftbis prop, this ex-
emplar ofState Rights, this arm of Democracy,
from which its lesser lights drink the illumination
which they are afterwards to twinkle back to
their own moreiinmedizitespliereof Democracy,
is clearly this—ih_a[, whereas it has hitherto been
held that a Mandamus could issue, from the U.
S. Courts, against the sovereign authorities of a
State, it shall now be held, that such a writ can-
not issue against any oflicer belonging to the
Executive part of the General G()\'(3I‘lllllClll.—-
So that the low';.."tt dependent of the Federal Ad-
In this, wedarc say, the auilior believes _
.-
ministration enjoys sovereign ininiunitieshighet
than the-utinost authorities ofa state can claim.
This is State Rights with a vengeance !
Ncxt,.it distinctly assumes what is, under the
legal circumstances of the case, this ground;
tnat, when a law of Congress has been passed
defining and directing a- putt ofthe Public ser-
vice in which it has a right to legislate. that then
it belongs to the Executive to see that such law is
executed ; and, consequently, that the judicial
dcpartnieiit of the Government-has no jurisdic-
tion over the matter whatever! This iszi limited
interpretation of the Executive Power arisingout,
of the phrase, “ the President shallsee that the
lil“’5 311?. Cxecllletl 3." By a construction not 8:
whit more extended, be may set the judiciary
totally aside, and permit no law to be executed I
which seems not good to his Executive discro-_
non.
Now what is the true extent of the faculty of‘
the President in all such cases.?, Can be, under
them, take any function whatevcrthat is directly
and essentially judicial 2 Certainly not. He
can only, in such cases, legitimately use a nar-
row cxecuiive discretion, such as merely settles.
the ordinary adiniiiistrativc policy of public:
measures, and sets aside no private right, nor
concurrent function of another branch of power.
whether tliejudicial Of the legislative one of the
federal governineiit,__or some separate and inde-
pendent right of a state. In a word. this is the
nature of the case: upon the passage ofa law of
Congress directing such or such a part of the
public service, the President can at once, in the
first instance, order a case arising under that law
to be acted upon in conformity with that law ;
he can, that is to say, without the intervention of
a court. say that the law is thus and thus, and
direct the executive officers so to interpret it, in
their practice: but this merely in the firs! in-
stance, aiid only at the pleasure of an individual
party, who may be interested in a case so aris-
ing. The iiionicut any such party is dissatisfied.
with the executive interpretation of any such
law, it has full‘ right to proceed to ajudicial set-
tlement of the law or the case; and such judi-
cial resort can in no manner be denied, either by
Congress or the executive, unless the case be
one which merely involves some act strictly and
purely ofexecutivc or legislative discretion.
Thus it becomes ziliuiidantly obvious, that the
Executive may, in the first instance, act upon-
laws requiring merely an executive, and notju-
dicinl, act, without having the matter submitted
to a Court; but that this, his decision, is not
binding upon a party, or final as to any other
braiicb of the autlioritics, that may, in any man.
nor, have such case brought to them to be decided
on. On the contrary, his act is a merely tern-.
porary one, for the convcuiciice ofthe moment,
and the facilitating ofpublir: and private business;
and it has in it—exccpt in cases of proper execu-
tive discretion, as we have already said-—no ac-
tual authority over parties, nor any obligation
whatever. unless, in ordinary cases. upon. tho_
oflicial subordinates themselves. The latter
ceases, of course, the moment ti party chooses to
refer his rights to the regular and final authority
oftlic public tribunals.
Biitfurther, were any such faculty really vest-
ed in the Executive, it would surely, even ifdes
‘rived from the Constitutional phrase above re...
pcated, rest in the President alone, not every
subordinate of the Executive service». To sup-
pose the contrary, is making a mere farce ofine
terpretation. It follows, then, that the pleasure
ofaii individual ofiiccr cannot set up this exemp-
tion from the authority of the Court. To
have it at all, he must get it from the inimediate
interposition and instruction of the Executive.
If he can set it up for liiiiiself, it is a substantive
and iiidcpeiident right of his functions, and may
be exerted just as tnucli in defiance of PT88Ix
dential control, as inany other way apart from
It, -
,LAVV S OF CONNECTIC UT.
Passsccl flfa-_7/‘Session, 1837,
An Act relating to Slierifi"s Deputies.
Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Re-
presentatives in General‘ Assembly convened,
That. all otlicial acts which shall have been done
by the Deptities of tlioso Slieriff’s whose terms
of otlice have expired during this session of the
General Assembly, after the expiration ofthe
Office of such Slieriff’s rcpcctively and before
the appointment and qualification of their suc-
cessors respectively, shall be as valid to all in-
tents and purposes, as if such Sheriff had con-
tinued in Ollice until the appointmentof such
successors respcctively,'and as if the terms for
which said Deputies were appointed had continu-
ed to the time or times of the appointment of
such successors respectively. and such Deputies
shall have power to complete any service or pro-
ccss which shall have been commenced by them
within aforesaid, after the appointment and quali-
fication of such successors as aforesaid-—Prov2'dcd
that this act shall eflect no suit already brought
against any such Deputy, or any other person for
any act done as aforesaid.
STILLMAN K. WIGHTMAN,
Speaker of the House ofRepresentatives.
EBENEZER STODDAR-D,
President of the Senate.
Approved, June 10. 1837.
‘ HENRY \V. ED\VARDS.
An Act to abolish Iiriprisonment for Debt.
SEC. 1. le it enacted by the Senate and
House of Representatives in General Assembly
convened, That no person or persons shall be
arrested. held to bail, or imprisoned, on any
civil process in any suit, action or proceeding
whether the same be mesne or final process, and
by writ, execution or otherwise, issued or insti-
titted, or to be issued or instituted for the recovery
ofany money due. or to be due upon ‘any judg-
mentor decree, either at law, or in chancery
fotiiidcd upon contract, or due or to be due upon
any contract express or implied, or for the re-
covery of any damages for the breach or non-. ’
performance of any contract ; any law, custom
or usage to_ the contrary notwithstanding.
Si-zc. The preceding section shall not ex-
teiid to any person wliolsball not have been a
resident of this Stiite for at least three months
next preceding .tlie commencement of a suit
against liirii ; nor to proceedings as for contempts
to enforce civil remedies; nor to actions for
lines or penalties, or on promises to marry, or
for monies collected by any public officer,. or for
any misconduct orneglect in office, or in any
"professional employment, or where execution
issues on a judgment in which the defendant is,
convicted ofa wilful and malicious trespass, and
the said conviction is so certified by the court try-
-ing the same. ‘- = ~-
Si:c. 3. In all cases wbeire, by the preceding
provisions of this Act, a defendant cannot be ar-
rested or imprisoned. it shall be lawful for the
plaintiff on commencing, or who shall have corn-
mcnced a siiit-against such defendant, or who.
shall have obtained a judgmentor decree against
him, in any court of .rccord, to apply to the
authority issuing the writ, or to any judge of the
court in which such suit -is brought, for 8 war-.
rant to arrest the defendant in such suit.
SEC. 4. No such warrant shall issue, unless
satisfactory evidence be'adduced to stop such,
authority, or judge, by the aflidavitof the plain-.
tiff, or of some other person or persons, that there
is a debt or demand due to the plaintifffrotn the
defendant, amounting to more than five dollars,
and specifying the nature and amount thereof,
as near as may be, for which :llI6' defendant ac-.
cortliiig to the provisions of this Act, etiguot ha
‘oi-4.
Norwalk Chronicler