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of water on the fire to make him some tea. || ly apparelled : " for it was a plain cloth suit, When the tea-kettle boiled I was at some dis- / which seemed to have been made by an ill tance from it, and Cody being pearer I desired country tailor. His linen was plain, and I re. him to take it off the fire. He rose from bis member a speck or two of blood upon his lit. seat and stooped to take off the kettlemas be tle band, which was not much larger than his was in the act of doing so, I came suddenly 1 collar ; his bat was without a hatband, bis behind him and struck him with my fist with stature was of a good size, his sword stuck all my force behind the ear-he fell forward close to his side, his countenance was swollen with his head against the rough stones of the land reddish, his voice sharp and untunable, wall of my hut, and I got upon him and struck and his eloquence full of fervour. Yet I liv. him three or four blows upon the head. We ed,” he adds, " to see this very gentlemanstruggled a long time together, and once I re. whom out of no ill will to him, I thus describe ally thought he would have mastered me, but I-by multiplied good successes, and by real at length got the better of him. I got my cord though usurped power, having had a better and bound his hands behind him, and his feet tailor, and more converse with good company, tied to his hande. My greatest fear had been in my own age, when, for six week's together all through the struggle that Donne might ar I was a prisoner in his sergeant's hands, and rive, and then I knew that my doom would || daily waited at Whitehall, appear of a majes. have been settled.

tic deportment and comely appearance. Even, "I never felt myself so free as when I found | however, during his most humble state, the myself in the open country on my way to a eyes of the discerning discovered a promise of farmer's house, about five or six miles distant, 1 his future exaltation. Hampden said to Lord where I knew I could gain assistance, for there Digby-that sloven will be the greatest man were four or five able-bodied men, who had in England.'_'The following is Wellwood's fire-arms. I soon got there, and three of them character of Cromwell :-“ He had a maply, took their arms and came back with me. We stern look, and was of an active healthful confound Cody still lying on the floor-he bad stitution, able to endure the greatest toil and bled a great deal from the wound be received | fatigue. Though brave in his person, yet be in his forehead when I first struck him, but he was wary in his conduct, for, from the time he would soon have gained his liberty if we had was first declared Protector, he always wore a

He was now secured and taken coat of mail under his clothes. His conversaaway to the military station-tried, convicted tion among his friends was very diverting and and executed.

familiar, but in public reserved and grave." It was said that these bush-rangers had

He was sparing in his diet, though sometimes murdered upwards of one hundred and fifty would drink freely, though seldom to excese. innocent people, besides plundering, burping, || He was moderate in all other pleasures, aod and destroying property to an immense a

for what was visible, free from immoralities, I received from the Government one especially after he came to make a figure in hundred guineas and my free pardon, and I the world. He writ a tolerable good hand, returned to England in the same ship that and style becoming a gentleman; except when took me out. If I had remained in New South he had a mind to wheedle under the mask of Wales I might have had a large allotment of religion, which he knew how to do when his land, and I could have reaped much greater affairs required it. He affected for the most advantage from the exploit than I did. Cody part a plainness in his clothes; but in them, had been distinguished as the most daring as

as well as in his guards and attendance, be well as the most cruel of all these outlaws, | appeared with magnificence and pomp upon and his name was a terror to all the country | public occasions. No man was ever beiter settlers,

He had been the leader of the gang, |, served, nor took more pains to be so. As he and if he had not been taken there is no doubt was severe to his enemies, so was he benefihe would have formed another party. The

cent and kind to his friende. And if he came inhabitants, therefore, would have rewarded to hear of a man fit for his purpose, thougi me liberally if I had applied to them, but I

ever so obscure, he sent for him and employ. thought of my home, and I was in a greated him ; suiting the employment to the person, haste to see it again."

and not the person to the employment. And The above account conveys a very inade

upon this maxim in his government, depended quate idea of the story as told by Williams. I in a great measure his success.” He is a fine aihletic man, about forty, very intelligent and clear in his description, and there is a determination and earnestpess in his

TOO HANDSOME FOR ANY THING. manner of telling his story and fighting the 66 Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy was

one of those outlaw over again, that carries conviction with models of perfection of which a human father it that he is relating nothing but what is per and mother can produce but a single example fectly true.

J. W. -Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy was therefore an on

ly son. He was such an amazing favorite DESCRIPTION OF TAE PERSON AND HABITS with both his parents, that they resolved to OF CROMWELL.-Sir Philip Warwick describes ruin him ; accordingly, he was exceedingly Cromwell in his house as being very ordinari-ll spoiled, never annoyed by the sight of a book,


and had as much plumb-cake as he could eat. Lieutenant St. Squintem. • We muust cut Happy would it have been for Mr. Ferdinand him !' said the Colonel. And Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy could he always have eaten plumb. Fitzroy was accordingly cut. Our bero was a cakt, and remained a child. Never,' says youth of susceptibility--he quilted the the Greek tragedian, 'reckon a mortal happy, regiment, and challenged the Colonel. The till you bave witoessed bis end.' A most Colonel was killed! • What a terrible blackbeautiful creature was Mr. Ferdinand Fitz guard is Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy!' said the Col. roy! Such eyes -such teeth--such a figure onel's relations. Very true!' said the world. -such manners, too-and such an irresistible The parents were in despair! They were not way of lying his neckcloth !--When he was rich; but our hero was an only son, and they about sixteen, a crabbed old uncle represent sponged hard upon the crabbed old uncle. ed to his parents the propriety of teacbing Mr. • He is very clever,' said they both; "and may Ferdinand Fitzroy to read and write. Tho' do yet.' So they borrowed some thousands not without some difficulty, he convinced from the uncle, and bought his beautiful peph. them,-for he was exceedingly rich, and rich ew a seat in parliament. Mr. Ferdinand Fitz. es in an uncle are wonderful arguments re roy was ambitious, and desirous of retrieving specting the nature of a nephew whose pa his character. He fagged like a dragoon-rents have nothing to leave him. So our he conned pamphlets and reviews ; got Ricardo ro was sent to school. He was naturally (I by heart ; and made notes on the English con. am not joking now) a very sharp, cleytr boy ; | stitution. He rose to speak. •What a handand he came on suprisingly in his learning. -- some fellow,' whispered one member. " Ah, a The schoolmaster's wife liked handsome chil. coxcomb,' said another; ' never do for a speak. dren. • What a genius will Master Fitzroy er,' said a third, very audibly. And the genbe, if you take pains with him ;' said she, io tlemen op the opposite benches sneered and her husband. Pooh, my dear, it is of no use heared ! Impudence is only indigenous in Mito take pains with him.'--' And why, my love | lesia, and an orator is not made in a day. Dis

— Because he is a great deal too handsome couraged by his reception, Mr. Ferdinand Fitzever to be a scholar.' • And that's true e

roy grew a little embarrassed. nough, my dear!' said the schoolmaster's wife. said one of his neighbors. • Fairly broken So because he was loo handsome to be a schol. || down,' said another. • Too fond of his hair to ar, Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy remained the lay of have any thing in his head,' said a third, who the fourth form! They took our bero from was considered a wit.

• Hear, hear,' cried school.- What profession shall he follow?'' the gentlemen on the opposite bouches. Mr. said his mother. My first cousin is the lord || Ferdinand Fitzroy sat down; be had not shone;

• Told you so,

chancellor, vaid his , .

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tar.' The lord chancellor dined there that first-rate speaker had began worse ; and many day ; Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy was introduced a country member had been declared a phee. to him. His lordship was a little, rough-faced nix of promise upon half his merit. Not so, beetle-browed, bard-featured man, who thought thought the heroes of corn laws. You Ado beauty and idleness the same thing-and a pises never make orators !' said a crack speaparchment skin the legitimate complexion for ker with a wry nose.

« Nor men of busia lawyer. • Send him to the bar !' said he, llness, either,' added the chairman of a com

no, no, that will never do!-send him to the nittee, with a face like a kangaroo's. “Poor army; he is much :00 handsome to become a Devil,' said the civilist of the set. "He's a lawyer.' And that's true enough, my lord !' || deuced deal too bandsome for a speaker. By said the mother. So they bought Mr. Ferdi- || Jove, he is going to speak again! this will nand Fitzroy a cornetcy in the regiment never do ; we must cough him down.' And of dragoons. Things are not learned by inspi- || Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy was accordingly cough. ration. Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy had never rid ed down. Our hero was now seven or eight den at school, except when he was hoisted ; l) and twenty, handsomer than ever, and the ad. he was therefore, a very indifferent horseman, 1 oration of all the young ladies at Almack's-they sent him to the riding school, and every • We have nothing to leave you,' said the pabody laughed at him.' He is a d-d ass!' || rents, who had long spent their fortune, and said Corporal Horsephiz, who was very ugly ; now lived on the credit of having enjoyed it. 6a horrid puppy!' said Lieutenant St. Squint "You are the handsomest nian in London ; you em, who was still uglier; 'if he does not ride must marry an heiress. "I will,' said Mr. better, he will disgrace the regiment !' said Ferdinand Fitzroy. Miss Helen Convolvulus Captaiu Rivalhate, who was very good look was a charming young lady, with a hair-lip ing; if he does pot ride better, we will cut and six thousand a year. To Miss Helen him !' said Colonel Everdrill, who was a wop Convolvulus, then, our hero paid bis addressderful martinet, 'I say Mr. Bumpemwell (to | es. Heavens! what an uproar ber relations the riding master,) make that youngster ride made about the matter. • Easy to see his inless like a miller's sack.' Pooh sir, he will || tentions,' said one ; 'a handsome fortune never ride better.' And why the d-I will he hunter, wbo wants to make the best of his not?

• Bless you Colonel, he is a great deal person !'--' handsome is that handsome does,' too handsome for a cavalry officer! " True!' says another'— he was turued out of the arsaid Corporal Horsephiz. • Very true!' said || my and murdered his Colonel ;'- never mar


ry a beauty,' said a third, he can admire cessor to be a man of business, not beauty ; none but himself,'-' will have so many mis. and Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy is a great deal loo tresses,' said a fourth ;- make you perpelu- | handsome for a banker; his good looks will, ally jealous,' said a fifth ;--- spend your for no doubt, win him an heiress in town. Mean. tune,' said a sixth ;--- and break your heart,' || while, I leave him to buy a dressing case, a said a seventh. Miss Helen Convolvulus was thousand pounds.' 'A thousand devils !' said prudent and wary. She saw a great deal of Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy, banging out of the justice in what was said ; and was sufficiently

He flew to his mistress. She was not contested with liberty and six thousand all at home. "Lies,' says the Italian proverb, year, not to be highly impatient for a husband; have short legs ;' but truths, if they are un. but our heroine had no aversion to a lov- pleasant, have terrible long ones!

The next er; especially to 80 handsome a lover | day Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy received a most as Ferdinand Fitzroy. Accordingly she neith- obliging note of dismissal. 'I wish you every er accepted nor discarded him ;-but suf-happiness,' said Miss Helen Convolvulus, in sered him to get into debt with his tailor, conclusion-but my friends are right ; you

And and his coach-maker, on the strength of | are much too handsome for a husband ! becoming Mr. Fitzroy Convolvulus. Time the week after, Miss Helen Convolvulus bewent on, and excuses and delays were easily came Lady Rufus Pumillion. 'Alas ! sir,' said found; however, our hero was sanguine, and the bailiff, as a day or two after the disoluso were his parents. A breakfast at Cheswicktion of parliament, he was jogging along in a and a putrid fever carried off the latter, with hackney coach bound to the king's bench in one week of the other; but not until they –Alas! sir, what a pity it is to take so handhad blessed Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy, and rejoi- some a gentleman to prision !" "--Lilerary ced that they had left him so well provided Souvenir, by Alaric A. Watts. for. Now, then, our hero depended solely upon the crabbed old uncle and Miss Helen

COCHIN-CHINA. Convolvulus ;-the former, though a baronet and a satirist, was a banker and a man of bu

It may be said, that the Cochio-Chisiness :- he looked very distastefully at the nese are a well flogged nation; and one Hyperian curls and white teeth of Mr. Ferdi- might expect that the universality of nand Fitzroy. 'If I make you my heir,' l ex- this brutal system would render them pect you will continue the bank. "Certainly, not only servile, obsequious, and cow. Sir!' said the nephew. 'Humph! grunted the ardly, but also timid, gloomy, and suspi

. Urcle; "a pretty fellow for a banker !' ors grew pressing to Mr. Ferdinand Fitzroy, cious ; but, in the latter respect at least and Mr. Fitzroy grew pressing to Miss Helen the case is quite the contrary: and the Convolvulus. 'li is a dangerous thing,' said | lower orders of the Cochin-Chinese, as she timidly, to marry a man so admired—will || far as you always be faithful!' •By heaven,' cried

we could judge from outward the lover.Heigho!' sighed Miss Helen Con. I appearance, seemed to be vain, cheerful, volvulus, and Lord Rusus Pumillion entering, and goodhumoured, obliging and civil, the conversation was changed. But the day | beyond all Asiatic people whom we had of the marriage was fixed ; and Mr. Ferdi seen.-Crawfurd's Embassy. nand Fitzroy bought a new curricle. By A. pollo, how handsome he looked in it ! A month

While we were entering the court before the wedding-day the uncle died. Miss | yard of the Minister's house, we saw a Helen Convolvulus was quite tender in her company of comedians, who had been condolence-'Cheer up, my Ferdinand,' said | exhibiting, as upon the first occasion. It -she; 'for your sake I have discarded Lord Rufus Pumillion! Adorable condescension ? || their parts, or at least that their perform

seems that they were not perfect in cried our hero ; but Lord Rufus Pumillion is only four feet two, and hair like a peony.'

ance did not satisfy the taste of the “Als men are not so handsome as Mr. Ferdi- || great man. They were accordingly upnand Fitzroy!' was the reply. A way goes dergoing the universally panacea for all our hero to be present at the opening of his breaches of moral, social, and political uncle's will. 'I leave,' said the testator (who | obligation,—for all errors of omission or I have before said was a bit of a satarist) my commission; that is to say--the bamboo. share of the bank, and the whole of my fortune, legacies excepted, to?--here Mr. F. Fitzroy | The first object that caught our attenwiped his beautiful eyes with a cambric hand- tion was the hero of the piece iying kerchief, exquisitely brode-my natural son, prone on the ground, and receiving punJohn Spriggs, an industrous, pains-taking lishment in his full dramatic costume. youth, who will do credit to the bank. I did once intend to have made my nephew, Ferdi

The inferior characters, in due course renand, my beir ; but so curling a head can

ceived their share also, as we aiterwards have no talent for accounts. I want my suc ascertained from hearing their cries,

a wbile we sat with the Minister. This hatched eggs formed a delicacy beyon conference virtually terminated the dip- the reach of the poor, and were only lomatic intercourse of the Mission with || adapted for persons of distinction. On the Cocbin Chinese Court.- Idem. inquiry, we in fact found that they cost

Their Cochin Chinese majesties ap- some thirty per cent. more in the markpear to provide for their remains more et than fresh ones. It seems, they always caretully than for their living persons:- form a distinguished part of every great - The late king, for example, constructed entertainment; and it is the practice, a splendid mausoleum, and laid out ex. when invitations are given out, to set the teosive gardens, as a place of interment bens to batch; the fete takes place about for himself and his favorite Queen, upon the tenth or twelfth day from this perwhich thousands of his subjects were od, the eggs being then considered as ripe, occupied for years. The following ac- | and exactly in ihe state most agreeable count of these gardens was given to us. to the palate of a Cochin Chinese epiThey are situated in a romantic part of cure.”Idem. the mountains, and about ten leagues to the north of the Capital. The tombs are

SCANDAL-A Fragment. There are peothe least splendid part of this undetak- || ple,'. continued the corporal, ' who can't even

breathe without slandering a neighbor.' ing, which consist 'besides, of spacious

You judge too severely,' replied my aunt gardens and groves, laid out in walks | Prudy: no one is slandered a ho does not deand terraces, and as it is said with no

serve it.' mean taste. In the course of this splendid • That may be,' retorted the corporal, . but undertaking, hills were levelled,

mounds I have heard very slight things said of you. thrown across from one hill to another, ||- Me!' she exclaimed, me!-slight things of

The face of my aunt kindled with anger.-canals and tanks dug, and spacious me! what can any body say of me?' roads constructed. The Queen,a woman • They say ? answered the corporal gravely, of great beauty and merit, who had ac and drawing his words to keep her in suspense, companied her husband in his exile in

that--that you are no better than you ought

to be.' Siam,-in his retreat among the desert

Fury flashed in the eyes of my aunt. islands, in the Gulf of that name, and · Who are the wretches?" who was besides his constant campan ! I hope they slander no one who does not ion jo all his war like expeditions by | deserve it,' remarked the corporal, jeeringly,

as he left the room. sea and land, was buried here seven

" The feelings of my aunt may well be conyears before our visit. Four

years after

ceived. She was sensibly injured. True, she wards, the king bimself was placed hy || had her foibles. She was peevish and fretful.. her side. The same spot belore being But she was rigidly moral and virtuous. The decorated in the present magnificent man- | porest ice was not more chaste. The Pope ner, was also the ancient burying-ground | bimself could not boast more piety. Conscious of the predecessors of the present race

of the correctness of her conduct, she was

wounded at the remark of the corporal. Why of kings. The place was represented to should her neighbors slander her? She could

us as a delicate and a romantic spot, ex not conjecture. s ceeding in beauty every other scene in "Let my aunt be consoled. A person who

the country. We wished for permission | can live in this world without suffering slanto pay it a visit, but were politely in- der, must be too stupid or insignificant to claim

attention." formed that the king was always reluctant to permit the visits of strangers,

Married, whose presence, he said, might trouble In Northborough, on the 31st ult. Mr. Wilthe repose of the spirits of bis ancestors

liam E. Davis, to Miss Almira L. Sherman, Idem.

both of Northborough. The people of Cochin China have the following singular fancy in regard to

Dieð, eggs.-" One of the Cochin Chinese In Marlborough, on the 2d inst. Mr. Joel eggs. When we expressed some susprise Felton, aged 68.

In Sutton, Dec. 22, Miss Mehitabel Stock. at the appearance of this portion of the

well, aged 66. repast,one of our Cochin Chinese attend

In Leicester Dec. 21, Mrs. Hannah Bowen, ants observed, with much naivete, that I wife of Ebenezer H. Bowen, aged 29.




" ( how shalt thou the boisterous shock

or wind and tide repel : THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF. Or guide thy course through reef and rock, EY MRS. HEMANS.

Or signs of danger tell? Oh! call my brother back to me,

Thy bark is light to tempt the storm I cannot play alone ;

With a mariner so young, The summer comes, with flower and bee,-

While blackening clouds of phantom form Where is my brother gone?

Are round the welkin hung. The butterfly is glancing bright

• Before thee far extends the deep, Across the sun-beam's track;

Nor shore nor haven nigb ; I care not vow to chase its flight-

And thou hast no watch tower on the step, Oh! call my brother back!

No star in the moonless sky. The flowers run wild-The flowers we sow'd,

56 Bebind thee fast recedes the land, Around our garden-tree;

Between high rolls the wave :

And all anskilled is thy little hand
Our vine is drooping with its load-
Oh! call him back to me?

The angry surge to brave.

“ Unknown, untravelled is the bourne He would not hear thy voice, fair child,

Of che land ihy oar must win : lle may not come to thee,

And the night is long e'er dawn of mora
The face that once like spring time smil'd On the dreary path begin.
Oo earth no more thou'lt see.

“ Some angel-band, on the distant strand A rose's bries, bright life of joy

Or golden mountains high, Such unto him was given;

A beacon rise to point the land. Go! thou must play alone, my boy!

When thy hour of peril's nigh." Thy brother is in heaven.

The bark, now far in the wave's embrace, And has he left his birds and flowers?

Was faintly sinking away ; And must I call in vain ?

When the scowl of heaven grew bright apace And through the long, long summer hours

With the purpling break of day. Will he not come again?

And the hills of a green and fairy land And by the brook, and in the glade,

Appeared on the verge of the deep; Are all our wanderings o'cr ?-

And strains were heard of some holy band, Ok! while my brother with me played,

Like music in midnight sleep; Would I had lov'd him more !

And spirits bright, as orbs of light,

In shining throngs were seen,

With crowns of gold in their robes of white,

And palms of evergreen.
Wrillen on the death of an Infant Boy.
On a desert shore methought I stood,

They beckoned him on with angel smiles,

Away to their bowers of bliss : As the closing day withdrew :

And they hailed him home to their suany isles, And wide o'tr the ocean's solitude

With the songs of paradise. The twilight dimly grew.

They led him by pure and living streams, The troubled sea was rolling dark,

And wiped his weeping eyes ; And the tempest gathering fast,

And they bound his hair with radiant beams, When I spied a slender little bark

And gems of a thousand dyes.
On the stormy billows cast.

In glitteriug ranks they moved, all bright
One lonely weight was all its freight,
And he seemed to weep and mour,

And glorious to behold;
For he looked like one on a journey gone,

Each one in his panoply of light,

With a lyre of burning gold. Where the traveilers ne'er return.

And sweet were the heavenly strains that broke But still he rowed amid the blast,

O'er the ocean's azure swell ; Apd slowly he bore away

But the airs lbey sung, and the words they Through the wizard gloom that, all o'ercast,

spoke, On the water's busom lay.

A seraph's lips must tell. I sighed to think of the hapless wight,

For quick as thought fled sea and sky, Oa this sea of perils thrown;

And the music charmed no more ; For the sky was dark with the cloud of night, | I wished for the wings of a dove, that I And he rode the waves alone.

Might iy to that happy shore.

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