feel it through every sense, at every pulsation of the heart. "The mountain was still above me, and I contiuued my ascent; but the chips now disappeared, and like Tom Thumb, I lost my way. I attempted to retreat but in vain: I was no longer among forest trees, but in a maze of young mountain ash, from which I could not extricate myself, so I stood still to think what I should do. I recollected that the usual course of proceeding on such occasions, was either to sit down and cry, or attempt to get out of your scrape. Tom Thumb did both; but I had no time to indulge in the former luxury, so I pushed and pushed, till I pushed myself out of the scrape, and I found myself in a more respectable part of the woods. I then stopped to take breath. I heard a rustling behind me, and made sure it was a panther-it was a beautiful little palm squirrel, who came close to me, as if to say, "Who are you?" I took off my hat and told him my name, when very contemptuously, as I thought, he turned short round, cocked his tail over his back and skipped away. "Free, but not enlightened," thought I; "has'nt a soul above nuts." I also beat a retreat, and on my arrival at the hotel, found that, although I had no guide to pay, Nature had made a very considerable levy upon my wardrobe; my boots were bursting, my trowsers torn to fragments, and my hat was spoiled; and moreover, I sat shivering in the garments which remained. So I, in my turn, levied on a cow that was milking, and having improved her juice very much by the addition of some rum, I sat down under the portico, and smoked the cigar of meditation. "The walls of the portico were, as usual, scribbled over by those who would obtain cheap celebrity. I always read these productions; they are pages of human life. The majority of the scribblers leave a name and nothing more; beyond that, some few of their productions are witty, some sententious, mostly gross." THE CLOUD.—PERCY B. SHELLEY. I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, I bear light shade for the leaves when laid From my wings are shaken the dews that waken When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about in the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, I sift the snow on the hills below, In a cavern under, is fettered the thunder Over the lakes and plains; I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile, While earth is dissolving in rains. The sanguine sunrise with his meteor eyes, While the morning star shines dead. Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit, and a moment may sit In the light of its golden wings. When the crimson pall of eve may fall From the depth of heaven above, With wings folded I rest, on mine airy nest, As still as a brooding dove. That orbed maiden, with white fire laden, Glides, glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, Like a swarm of golden bees; I am the daughter of earth and water, I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores, For after the rain, when with never a stain And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from a room, like a ghost from a tomb, I arise, and unbuild it again. New iron should be very gradually heated at first, after it has become inured to the heat, it is not as likely to crack of EXTRACTS FROM THE LETTERS OF MRS. ADAMS-MOTH- | for me to-night. And if I cannot, who have no guilt ER OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. DEAREST FRIEND, BUNKER HILL. Sunday, 18 June, 17' 1. upon my soul with regard to this cause, how shall the miserable wretches, who have been the procurers of this dreadful scene, and those who are to be the actors, lie down with the load of guilt upon their souls? Sunday Evening, 3 March. "I went to bed after twelve, but got no rest; the cannon continued firing, and my heart beat pace with them all night. We have had a pretty quiet day, but what to-morrow will bring forth, God only knows. "Monday Evening. "The day, perhaps, the decisive day,-is come, on which the fate of America depends. My bursting heart must find vent at my pen. I have just heard, that our dear friend, Dr. Warren, is no more, but fell gloriously fighting for his country; saying, better to die honorably in the field, than hang ignominiously upon the gallows. Great is our loss. He has distinguished himself in every engagement, by his courage and fortitude, by animating the soldiers, and leading them mustered, with three days' provision, and all are "Tolerably quiet. To-day the militia have all on by his own example. A particular account of marched by three o'clock this afternoon, though their these dreadful, but I hope glorious days, will be trans-notice was no longer ago than eight o'clock, Saturmitted you, no doubt, in the exactest manner. "The race is not to the swift nor the battle to the day. And now we have scarcely a man, but our regstrong; but the God of Israel is he, that giveth strength and power unto his people. Trust in him at all times, ye people, pour out your hearts before him; God is a refuge for us.' Charleston is laid in ashes. The battle began upon our intrenchments upIon Bunker's Hill, Saturday morning about three o'clock, and has not ceased yet, and it is now three o'clock Sabbath afternoon. It is expected they will come out over the Neck to-night, and a dreadful battle must ensue. Almighty God, cover the heads of our countrymen, and be a shield to our dear friends! How many have fallen, we know not. The constant roar of the cannon is so distressing, that we cannot eat, drink, or sleep. May we be supported and sustained in the dreadful conflict. I shall tarry here till it is thought unsafe by my friends, and then I have secured myself a retreat at your brother's, who has kindly offered me part of his house. I cannot compose myself to write any further at present. I will add more as I hear further." GEN. WASHINGTON. "I was struck with General Washington. You had prepared me to entertain a favorable opinion of him, but I thought the half was not told me. Dignity with ease and complacency, the gentleman and soldier, look agreeably blended in him. Modesty marks every line and feature of his face. Those lines of Dryden instantly occurred to me: 'Mark his majestic fabric! he's a temple Nor is the pile unworthy of the god.' "—pp. 51, 52. BATTLE OF DORCHESTER HEIGHTS. Saturday Evening, 2 March, 1776. "I dare say there would be no difficulty in procuring a vote and instructions from all the Assemblies in New England for Independency. I most sincerely wish, that now, in the lucky moment, it might be done. I have been kept in a continual state of anxiety and expectation, ever since you left me. It has been said to-morrow' and 'to-morrow' for this month, but when the dreadful to-morrow will be, I know not. But hark! The house this instant shakes with the roar of cannon. I have been to the door and find it is a cannonade from our army. Orders, I find, are come for all the remaining militia to repair to the lines, Monday night by twelve o'clock. No sleep tree, or Milton, and the militia from the more remote have been sitting to hear the amazing roar of cannon, "Tuesday Morning. "I went to bed about twelve, and rose again a little after one. I could no more sleep, than if I had the jar of the house, the continual roar of twenty-four been in the engagement; the rattling of the windows, pounders, and the bursting of shells, gave us such ideas, and realize a scene to us of which we could form scarcely any conception. About six this morning, there was quiet. I rejoiced in a few hours' calm. I hear we got possession of Dorchester hill but one man. last night; four thousand men upon it to-day; lost The ships are all drawn round the town. To-night we shall realize a more terrible scene still. I sometimes think I cannot stand it. I wish myself with you, out of hearing, as I cannot assist them. I hope to give you joy of Boston, even if it is in ruins, before I send this away. I am too much agitated to write as I ought, and languid for want of rest."-pp. 88-90. LETTER TO J. Q. ADAMS-AGED 15. "This evening, as I was setting with only your sister by my side, who was scribbling to some of her correspondents, my neighbor, Field, entered with, I have a letter for you, Madam.' My imagination was wandering to Paris, ruminating upon the long, long absence of my dear son and his parent, so that I was rather inattentive to what he said, until he repeated I have letters for you from abroad.' The word abroad,' roused my attention, and I eagerly seized the letters, the hand-writing and seal of which gave me hopes, that I was once more about to hear from my young wanderer; nor was I disappointed. "After two years' silence, and a journey of which I can scarcely form an idea, to find you safely returned to your parent, to hear of your health and to see your improvements! You cannot know, should I describe to you the feelings of a parent. Through your father, I sometimes heard from you, but one ter. The season is so far advanced that I readily letter only ever reached me after you arrived in Rus- sacrifice the desire of seeing him to his safety; a voy. sia. Your excuses, however, have weight and are age upon this coast at this season is fraught with dan accepted; but you must give them further energy by gers. He has made me a request, that I dare not a ready attention to your pen in future. Four years comply with at present. No husband, no son, to have already passed away since you left your native accompany me upon the boisterous ocean, to animate land and this rural cottage; humble indeed when my courage and dispel my fears, I dare not engage compared to the palaces you have visited, and the with so formidable a combatant. If I should find your pomp you have been witness to; but I dare say, you father fixed in the spring, and determined to continue have not been so inattentive an observer as to suppose abroad a year or two longer, the earnest desire I have that sweet peace and contentment cannot inhabit the to meet him and my dear son might overcome the relowly roof and bless the tranquil inhabitants, equally luctance I feel at the idea of engaging in a new scene, guarded and protected in person and property in this and the love I have for domestic attachments and the happy country, as those who reside in the most ele- still calm of life. But it would be more agreeable to gant and costly dwellings. If you live to return, I me to enjoy all my friends together in my own na can form to myself an idea of the pleasure you will tive land; from those who have visited foreign climes take in treading over the ground and visiting every I could listen with pleasure to the narrative of their place your early years were accustomed wantonly to adventures, and derive satisfaction from the learned gambol in; even the rocky common and the lowly detail, content, myself, that whortleberry bush will not be without their beauties. "My anxieties have been and still are great, lest the numerous temptations and snares of vice should vitiate your early habits of virtue, and destroy those principles, which you are now capable of reasoning upon, and discerning the beauty and utility of, as the only rational source of happiness here, or foundation of felicity hereafter. Placed as we are in a transitory scene of probation, drawing nigher and still nigher day after day to that important crisis which must introduce us into a new system of things, it ought certainly be our principal concern to become qualified for our expected dignity. "What is it, that affectionate parents require of their children, for all their care, anxiety, and toil on their account? Only that they would be wise and virtuous, benevolent and kind. "Ever keep in mind, my son, that your parents are your disinterested friends, and that if, at any time, their advice militates with your own opinion or the advice of others, you ought always to be diffident of your own judgment; because you may rest assured, that their opinion is founded on experience and long observation, and that they would not direct you but to promote your happiness, Be thankful to a kind Providence, who has hitherto preserved the lives of your parents, the natural guardians of your youthful years. With gratitude I look up to Heaven, blessing the hand which continued to me my dear and honored parents until I was settled in life; and, though now I regret the loss of them, and daily feel the want of their advice and assistance, I cannot suffer as I should have done, if I had been early deprived of them. 66 "The little learning I have gained, Is all from simple nature drained.' 'I have a desire that you might finish your edu cation at our University, and I see no chance for it unless you return in the course of the year. Your cousin, Mr. Cranch, expects to enter next July. He would be happy to have you his associate. I hope your father will indulge you with a visit to England this winter. It is a country I should be fond of your seeing. Christianity, which teaches us to forgive our enemies, prevents me from enjoining upon you a similar vow to that which Hamilcar obtained from his son Hannibal, but I know not how to think of loving those haughty islanders." A FRENCH LADY. "As to the people here, they are more given to hospitality than in England, it is said. I have been in company with but one French lady since I arrived; for strangers here make the first visit, and nobody will know you until you have waited upon them in form "This lady I dined with at Dr. Franklin's. She Ì entered the room with a careless, jaunty air; upon seeing ladies who were strangers to her, she bawled out, Ah! mon Dieu, where is Franklin? Why did you not tell me there were ladies here?' You must suppose her speaking all this in French. How! look!' said she, taking hold of a chemise made of tif fany, which she had on over a blue lustring, and which looked as much upon the decay as her beauty, for she was once a handsome woman; her hair was frizzled; over it she had a small straw hat, with a "You will doubtless have heard of the death of dirty gauze half-handkerchief round it, and a bit of your worthy grandpapa before this reaches you. He dirtier gauze, than ever my maids wore, was bowed left you a legacy more valuable than gold or silver; on behind. She had a black gauze scarf thrown over he left you his blessing and his prayers that you might her shoulders. She ran out of the room; when she return to your country and friends, improved in know-returned, the Doctor entered at one door, she at the ledge and matured in virtue; that you might become other; upon which she ran forward to him, caught a useful citizen, a guardian of the laws, liberty, and him by the hand, Helas! Franklin;' then gave religion of your country, as your father (he was pleas- a double kiss, one upon each cheek, and another up ed to say) had already been. Lay this bequest up on his forehead. When we went into the room to in your memory, and practise upon it; believe me, dine, she was placed between the Doctor and Mr. Ad you will find it a treasure that neither moth nor rust ams. She carried on the chief of the conversation at can devour. dinner, frequently locking her hand into the Doctor's, "I received letters from your father last evening, and sometimes spreading her arms upon the backs of dated in Paris the 10th of September, informing me both the gentlemen's chairs, then throwing her arm of the necessity of his continuance abroad this win-carelessly upon the Doctor's neck. him Th pres T "I should have been greatly astonished at this conduet, if the good Doctor had not told me that in this lady I should see a genuine French woman, wholly free from affectation or stiffness of behavior, and one of the best women in the world. For this I must take the Doctor's word; but I should have set her down for a very bad one, although sixty years of age, and a widow. I own I was highly disgusted, and never wish for an acquaintance with any ladies of this cast. After dinner she threw herself upon a settee, where she showed more than her feet. She had a little lap-dog, who was, next to the Doctor, her favorite, and whom she kissed. This is one of the Doctor's most intimate friends, with whom he dines once every week, and she with him. She is rich, and is my near neighbor; but I have not yet visited her. Thus you see, my dear, that manners differ exceedingly in different countries. I hope, however, to find amongst the French ladies manners more consistent with my ideas of decency, or I shall be a mere recluse."-pp. 252–254. ANECDOTE OF MRS. ADAMS. All things rejoice in youth and love, Maiden! that readest this simple rhyme, Enjoy the Spring of love and youth, To some good angel leave the rest, POPULATION. The annexed statement shows the population of various cities and villages, according to the census just taken, compared with the population of 1830. We are tempted to record an anecdote, which, be- New York, sides being related on good authority, has a verisimil- Philadelphia, titude which vouches for its truth. Baltimore, It was natural, that those who were acquainted Boston, with Mrs. Adams' extraordinary intelligence, and the Brooklyn, profound interest which she took in public affairs, Cincinnati, should exaggerate the influence exerted by her over St. Louis, her husband's mind. At the time when Mr. Adams Washington, displeased his cabinet by sending the special mission Pittsburg, to France, an anonymous writer in one of the Boston Dover, newspapers accounted for the error by saying that Wilmington, Del. "the old lady was not with him." The piece was Middletown, written by a distinguished friend of Hamilton and Bridgeport, Pickering, and Mrs. Adams had intelligence respect- Norwich, ing its authorship. It so chanced, that not long afterward she dined with the President at the table of this gentleman, who supposed his incognito to be preserved. The conversation turned upon some more recent measure of the President, which the host and his friends spoke of with strong commendation. At the first pause Mrs. Adams turned to him, and with a look of arch good nature which few eyes ever could express like hers, said, "The old lady was not with him then." New London, Hartford, Portland, Gardiner, Troy, Dover, N. H. Portsmouth, N. H. IT IS NOT ALWAYS MAY. THE sun is bright, the air is clear, So blue yon winding river flows, All things are new;-the buds, the leaves, There are no birds in last year's nest. Bath, GOOD NEWS FOR THE WHALE.-It is said that a new material has been discovered in England, for burning in the various kinds of lamps. It is called the "ætherial oleine," and can be purchased at twothirds the price of the finest sperm oil—and will burn twenty-four hours without clogging the lamp, or requiring trimming. THE LOST ONE. wending its way to the miry interiour of some disA "LIVE-OAKER," employed on the St. John's tant swamp. Now the woods began to resound to liver, in East Florida, left his cabin, situated on the the shrill cries of the owl; and the breeze, as it banks of that stream, and with his axe on his shoul-swept among the columnar stems of the forest-trees, der, proceeded toward the swamp in which he had came laden with heavy and chilling dews. Alas, several times before plied his trade of felling and no moon with her silvery light shone on the dreary squaring the giant trees that afford the most valuable scene, and the Lost One, wearied and vexed, laid timber for naval architecture and other purposes. himself down on the damp ground. Prayer is always consolatory to man in every difficulty or dan ger, and the woodsman fervently prayed to his Maker, wished his family a happier night than it was his lot to experience, and with a feverish anxiety waited the return of day. At the season which is the best for this kind of labour, heavy fogs not unfrequently cover the country, so as to render it difficult for one to see farther than thirty or forty yards in any direction. The woods, too, present so little variety, that every tree seems the mere counterpart of every other; and You may imagine the length of that cold, dull, the grass, when it has not been burnt, is so tall that moonless night. With the dawn of day came the a man of ordinary stature cannot see over it, whence usual fogs of those latitudes. The poor man started it is necessary for him to proceed with great caution, on his feet, and with a sorrowful heart, pursued lest he should unwittingly deviate from the ill-defin- | a course which he thought might lead him te ed trail which he follows. To increase the difficul- some familiar object, although, indeed, he scarcely ty, several trails often meet, in which case, unless knew what he was doing. No longer had he the the explorer be perfectly acquainted with the neigh-trace of a track to guide him, and yet, as the sum bourhood, it would be well for him to lie down, and rose, he calculated the many hours of daylight he wait until the fog should disperse. Under such cir- had before him, and the farther he went continued cumstances, the best woodsmen are not unfrequently to walk the faster. But vain were all his hopes: bewildered for a while; and I well remember that that day was spent in fruitless endeavours to regain such an occurrence happened to myself, at a time the path that led to his home, and when night again when I had imprudently ventured to pursue a wound- approached, the terrour that had been gradually ed quadruped, which led me some distance from the spreading over his mind, together with the nervous track. debility induced by fatigue, anxiety, and hunger, The live-oaker had been jogging onward for sev-rendered him almost frantick. He told me that at eral hours, and became aware that he must have travelled considerably more than the distance between his cabin and the "hummock" which he desired to reach. To his alarm, at the moment when the fog dispersed, he saw the sun at its meridian height and could not recognise a single object around him. this moment he beat his breast, tore his hair, and, had it not been for the piety with which his parents had in early life imbued his mind, and which had become habitual, would have cursed his existence. Famished as he now was, he laid himself on the ground, and fed on the weeds and grass that grew around him. That night was spent in the greatest agony and terrour. "I knew my situation," he said to me. "I was fully aware that unless Almighty God came to my assistance, I must perish in those uninhabited woods. I knew that I had walked more than fifty miles, although I had not met with a brook from which I could quench my thirst, or even allay the burning heat of my parched lips and blood-shot eyes. I knew that if I should not meet with some stream I must die, for my axe was my only weapon, and although deer and bears now and then started within a few yards or even feet of me, not one of them could I kill; and although I was in the midst of abundance, not a mouthful did I expect to procure, to satisfy the cravings of my empty stomach. Sir, may God preserve you from ever feeling as I did the whole of that day!" Young, healthy, and active, he imagined that he had walked with more than usual speed, and had passed the place to which he was bound. He accordingly turned his back upon the sun, and pursued a different route, guided by a small trail. Time passed, and the sun headed his course: he saw it gradually descend in the west; but all around him continued as if enveloped with mystery. The huge gray trees spread their giant boughs over him, the rank grass extended on all sides, not a living being crossed his path, all was silent and still, and the scene was like a dull and dreary dream of the land of oblivion. He wandered like a forgotten ghost that had passed into the land of spirits, without yet meeting one of his kind with whom to hold converse. The condition of a man lost in the woods, is one of the most perplexing that can be imagined by a person who has not himself been in a like predica- For several days after, no one can imagine the ment. Every object he sees, he at first thinks he condition in which he was, for when he rela recognises, and while his whole mind is bent on ted to me this painful adventure, he assured me searching for more that may gradually lead to his that he had lost all recollection of what had happen extrication, he goes on committing greater errours ed. "God," he continued, "must have taken pity the farther he proceeds. This was the case with on me one day, for, as I ran wildly through those the live-oaker. The sun was now setting with a dreadful pine-barrens, I met with a tortoise. I gazed fiery aspect, and by degrees it sunk in its full cir-upon it with amazement and delight, and, although I cular form, as if giving warning of a sultry morrow. knew that were I to follow it undisturbed, it would Myriads of insects, delighted at its departure, now lead me to some water, my hunger and thirst would filled the air on buzzing wings. Each piping frog not allow me to refrain from satisfying both, by eat. arose from the muddy pool in which it had concealed ing its flesh, and drinking its blood. With one itself; the squirrel retired to its hole, the crow to its stroke of my axe the beast was cut in two, and in a roost, and, far above, the harsh croaking voice of few moments I despatched all but the shell. Oh, the heron announced that, full of anxiety, it was sir, how much I thanked God, whose kindness had |