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f! i’ No. ~I~Lu.~n . ~44“ Ye. mustache flirtflo 15,23. vuflvt- \\..»-M .. - â€" \w\~\w~_.~~ .-.w-~-m.v.w DR. JAMES L ANGS'I‘AFF, Richmond Hill June, 1857. g.i-wy. JOl' :‘i GIIIISVI'I, VLEIIK 'l':.ird DIVISION CULi'la'i". (J‘ffit'l tlrctriiiona titli, Jane. 1857. gal wt. _ .IOS*’.PZ'I KELLEI , T .\Il.ll“l“ Sci-out 'md ’l‘iid DiVlJ-“IF . Court. Ufiim, itic imond llill. 2.] -'.v}'. G. & 13. Emma), MI'OR'I’ERS of ’rl’lll‘li and American Dry Goods. flown“... “lines, Liquors, ()il~. Paints, &c., 51c. Iticlimond Hill. June. )8 7. June, 1857. g. l -wy. CHAnLEs DURRAN’I‘, (Lair M. Tee/y) MPORTER of Brit-Id] and Fo-eiyu DryGoodn Wine and Spiiii Merchant om. t‘tc. Richmond Hill, June, 1857. r. CROSBY, I RY GOODS, G occrios, W'ines. “gâ€" . nd Hill, June, 1807. i; 1-wr. Liquors, Hardware, Arc. Riclnno g. I -wy. JOIIN REDUNALI), Chemist. and Druggist,» MI’OT'I‘EII of English Drugs, Seaps. I’er' fumes, llrns ies, the. near Green Bush 'I‘avern, Times”). June. 18:17. g.l- lin. 'l‘fIOMAS SEDBIAN, Carriage, “Waggon st- Sleigh M A KE Ji’ , Opposite the White Swan Inn. Richmond Hill. .liine 10m. 1857. g.l-wy . J. W. GIBSON, , Boot and .‘hoe Sb: .5 . Blakcr, Opposite J. K. Fulcenhtidge's, YONGE STREET. IUCIlMt-ND HILL. June, 1857. y,l.\v\', WM. H. MYEMS, SADDLE, HARNESS A ND .-. ._ . “1.; M.“ 4 v». ~.o.uu.,;i}$.4_ng_'m« but: “,9 Yonge SW“. (Oppngim Shum, Smut, I often think of thee. still faithful I live, Tllllllll ltlltlllllll‘l‘lltlll, One Door South of the Gazette Office. Richmond Hill. June 12m. 1557. g.l-wy. WI].I.IAM HARRISON, Saddle- :tntl Hui-n css Maker, Next door to G. J: B. Ilurnnid’s, Richmond llill June, 1157. gJ-wy, “Jofikâ€"COUL'ri-zn, Tailor and Clothier, \Iougc St., Richmond Hill, June. 1857. “mm IV-EW’I‘ON, iTau nor and Currier, ILGIN MILLS, RICHMOND lllLt. ‘Hl'l liig‘lit'st Price paid in Cash for llides and Sitinu. gal-wy. Juno. ltl57. ’ _’imv.\‘i.u' SANDERSON, VETERINARY SURGEON, AND A u C'TI o N E E R, Corner of Yang: and Centre Streets, RICILWOA’D HILL, June. 1857. g, lwy. g. l . wy, /c'._ cs:- RICHMOND HILL HOTEL, Opposite the Post Office. Yongo Street, N Omnibus- leaves the above llolel every Morning. (Sundays excepted,) at 7 o’clock. for Toronto - rclurtiinw the some evenin - l a g Horses and Buggies kept for hii'e. RICHARD NICHOLLS. Proprietor. Richmond Hill, June. 1‘57. g.l.wy. VICTORY HOTEL, And IlIasonz'c Hall, V Yukon STREET 1 XTENSIVE Stahllng. end obliging Hustlers always in attendance. Choice Wines and Liquors. various Summer Beverages. Regalia. Principe. Havana. Manilla and other brands of Cigar: and Cheroots. An Omnibus to and from Toronto, calls at this Hotel, daily. - 3.5:- air Beer, Porter and ROBERT WISEMAN. Proprietor, g. l-wy. ,- THE WHITE SWAN Inn, and Livery Stables, Yosos Summ- IIORSES and Buggies in readiness at the Shortest Notice. JOSEPH GABY. Proprietor, g. l-wy. Thorn Hill Hotel; - GOOD ACCOMMODATION FOR Travellers. Richmond Hill. June. 1857. Richmond Hill. June. 1857. a n iii an in JOHN SHIELS, Proprietor. Thom Hill, Julie 9th. 1857. g.l-wy. CLYDE HOTEL, KING STRET EAST, razciim. GOOD Enabling and Altentive Hoatlels JUIIN MILLS. Proprietor. g.l-wy, June. 1857. Bottled Alo Depot, 6.3, YORK STREET, TORONTO, C. W. M. MORRISON. Agent. Toronto, June 12th. 1857. glâ€"wy. J. W. MILLAR, 1M PORTER and Dealer in Gold and Silve “latches, Fine Jewellery, Eiacu‘o-I'Iato. Fancy Goods. 6cm. etc. No. 8t). Yonge Street, Toronto. June, 1657. g l-dm. Vol. 3. ,4 Alli) IIICHI’tI II’ITII 01: ll'] 3"11()£”1' OFFEXC'E TO FRIENDS OR FOES, ex»- v \.r./~N»fw . Vvux/ ./ v . ng/A ‘f/ A'V\ .‘VV~“V‘M\1‘»~'\NNAWV am) am; A I?! Y E It T I S E It} RECHRIOED HILL, FRIDAY, JULY 3, 1857. I y Sirlri‘l 3|.ltltll‘ll. JWMWW 'I‘LIIL‘ Ll HEN I’. lie prou‘rizczl tol l\'t‘ in». I gave him my heart It‘. vo.'.’.: lll‘ \\'ttllll Nh'l'c inc, ah, llulllilr' should pail; l ftuidiy bilievcd him and loved in rcturn, But the 5: Will that hatsl o’er the no eye could thxcilrn. I woa7d not condemn him, for my lit-art If know Is trni-r than ivcr, but why ticat mc 30? And can'st thoti not tlicn foiget and forgvc"! I mourn for his absi‘nce and wcep bittcr lt‘ltl‘S, formatted by sorrows, cncompass‘d by from; .‘il’foction still lingrrs. still sound I the lyre», And can?! thou refuse me my heart‘s fond di-shc l l’llt‘y tell me ’tis weakness, but thcir hearts are of stccl, Alas I can they know of the paan that I fccl’l ’I’is inward. ’tis secret, “is painful to hear, I am drinking the dregs of the cup of despair! He promised to love me, but ah, I soon found ills love was like watcr spilt on the purch’d ground § Yet hoping ’gaiusl hnpc how could I believe that thou, once so faithful, should’st ever dtccive ? Ie‘ould affection redeem thee, could love bring thee back, I would gladly receive thee, would never forsake , Would cling like the ivy entwin'd round the oak, I. ..-_, V - _.,_ -7 .-, ’._» inasi was sprung. IIcr timbers strain- cd ; and for tho last wcck the pumps! had to bc kept going; all the limo, own-‘ crs. passeugcrs. and all, doing their share of work at tho bi'akcs. As soiin as we could gct the cargil out. tln: ship was haulird into the duck ifui' rcpairs. and we found upon eyaiir illlfllltlll that it would be a wch bcforr 'shc would be lit for sun. and ifslic had ' 'all the impairs which she :ibsulutcly needed. it would two lake hcr inrar ‘\\'--i,~l:s. A (‘tlllll‘tltfl was made for the job, and one of the ovum-rs agrctd to stay by and supcriiiti'tid the noik. 'I’his lch me at liberty, and I bcgan to look round for sumo place to visit. I had heard much about Salisbury Plain. The famous stone Lcdgc was there, and so WCl‘t.‘ othcr rclicsofltoman and E British antiquities. Accordingly to Salisbury Plain I t't:S()lVUtl to go. \thn I went on board the ship to make ar- rangements with the owner who had remained there. I foundonc ofthc pas- sengers jflst leaving. Nathan L-‘Clllflll. Ills name was He was a young man not more than thirty ycai's i‘ifugc, and I supposcd him, from his fcaturcs and idiom, to be an Englishman. I told him I was going to Salisbury, and he informed me he was going the same way. Lccman had been intcnding to take the stage to Dci'izcs, and thence take some of the cross couchcs; but I re- ‘ind defy the fierce tempests that over inc broke. I‘he new of the morning, the cloud of do day, Like the love than did’st give me soon van- isla’d away; the lone rocky isle in the mid’st of the sea. ls ne’er half so lonely as thou hast left me. “'HA’I‘ MAKES A MAN. Not numerous years, not lengthened life, Not pretty children and a wife; Not ring and chain and fancy rings, Nor any such like trumpcry things; Not pipe, segar or bottlcd wine, Not coats, nor boots, nor yet a hat, A dandy vest or trim cravat; Not houses, land, or golden ore, Not all the world’s \vcaltb laid in store; Not Mia, Rem, Sir, nor Squire, With titlcs that the mrmory tire; Not ancestry, traced back to “Ill, \I'lio went with Normandy to kill; Not Latin,Greck, nor Hebrew lore; Nor thousand voliiinns rumbled o’cr, Not judge's robe, nor mayor’s mace; Not crowns that deck the royal race ;â€" These all united, never can Avail to make a single man. A truthful soul. a loving mind, Full of affvction for its kind; A spirit firm, erect and free, That never hasely bends the knee; That will not bear a feather‘s weight Of slavery’s chain for small or great; That truly speaks from God within, And never makes a league with sin; That snaps the fotters despots make, And loves the truth for its own sake; That worships God and him alone, And bows nowhere but at his throne; That treinbles at no tyrant’s nod, ‘A soul that fears no one but God; And thus smile at cuise 0r ban ;â€"- That is the soul that makes a man. WWW THE SEA CAPTAIN’S ADVEN- TUlt E. On my last voyage to Bristol, the owners of the ship took passage with me. The whole cargo belonged to them, and they not only wished to do some business in England, but they also had a desire to travcl some. Besides the three owners, lhad four passengers The passage from New York to England at] that occasion was in the cabin. the most severe and sturmyI ever I storms, but never such continued hard made. have experienced heavier weather. The whole ship was on the ~.traiu the wholegfthe time, and thoughv i ran her into the Avon without losing, ilife or an iing'mrtaiitspar, yet she had' received much ddmilgt'. Ilcr maul solved to take a horse and trawl when! and how and when I pleased, and he liked the plan so well that he went immediately and bought him a good horse and saddle. It was about the middle of the fore- noon when we set out, and I found that Lccinan intended to visit the curi- osities with me, and then keep on toâ€" wards London. by the way of Andover and Chertsey, he having sent his bag' gage on to Salisbury bythc great mail route, which ran many miles of tho way. I found my companion excel- lent company. and on the way he told me some passages from his own life. He was born in England. but this was the first time he was in England since he was fourteen years of age, and I was led to infer that at that time he ran away from his parents. During: the last six years ofhis residence in the United States he had been engaged in Western land spi-culations, and he was independently rich. \Ve took dinner at Bradford, a large manufacturing town six miles southâ€" west of Bath, and as soon as our horses To- wards the middlc of the afternoon the sky began to grow over-cast and we had promise of a storm- wcre rested we set out again. By five o’clock the great black clouds wore piled up in heavy masses, and it began to thunder. At Warminster we look the direct road to Albany. a distance of fourteen miles, and when this storm had closed upon us we Were about half way between the two places. I was in no particular hurry, and as I had no desire to get wet, I proposed that we should stop at the first place we came to. In a few moments more we came to a point where a small cross road turned off to the right, and where a guide board said it was five miles to Deptford Inn. I proposed that We should turn into this by-woy and make for Deptford Inn as soon as possible, and my compan- ion readily asseutcd. We had gone a mile when the great drops of rain began to fall; but as good fortune would have it, we spied a small Cot- tage not more than a furlong ahead through a clump of poplars. liVe made for this place, and reached it before we got we}. Therc wasa good sized barn on the premises, and a long, shed con- nectcd it with the house. Beneath this shed we d ove, and just as we wel told him that we had gotcaught in the alighied an old man came out. . . l ,storm, and asked him ifhe could ac- l , .Vclcinnc. connnodatc Us over night. Ilc told us that we should have tin.- bcst his hum- blc placc Could atl’urd. and said that if we would put up with that, we were As soon as tho h--:‘scs wcrc takull -arc of we followud the old man into iht: house. Ile was a gt‘ny-htulilwl man, certainly on the down-hill side of three scorc, and his back was licnt by hard His naturally kind and lieiicvnlcntl‘ut there work. countenance was wcrc olhcr marks Upon his brow than The monicnt I saw sufli-r- It was a hunt room in which “'0‘ those of old ngc. him I knew he had sci-n much lug. were lcd, a living room. but yet ft‘cc fiom dirt and littcr. An old womani was just building a fire for thc suppcr,l and as we cntcrcd slit: arose from but“ Work. ‘ Some travellch caught in the show: or, wife,’ said the old man. ‘ Surely, gentlemen, you’re welcome‘ the woman said. in a tone so mild and frcc that I knew she spoke the feeling: other soul. ‘lt’s poor farc we can give, but the heartof the giver inustl even make up for that.’ I thanked the good people. and told I them that I would pav lllctn Well for all they did for us. ‘Spcak not of pay,’ said the old woman, taking the tea kettle frotn the hub and hanging it on the crane. ‘Stop, wifc,’ uttered the old man treinulously. ' Lct not your heart run ‘ away with ye. lfthe good gentleman have to spare out of their abundance, it becomes not such sutl’crcrs to refuse the bounty.’ Isaw the woman place her apron to her eyes, but she made no reply. The door close by the fireplace SIOIJLI partly open, and I saw in the room beyond a bed. and I wassure there was Iaskcd the old man if he had sickness. some one in it. ‘ Yes,’ he said, with a shake of the head. ‘My poor boy has been sick He’s the only child I have and the only helper on the lit- tle farm and he's been sick now all I’ve taken for a long time. i care of the sheep but Icould not plant. It’s hard but I don’t despair. My good wifeâ€"God bless licr lâ€"shares the trial with mo. and I think she takes thc spring and summer. biggest share. ‘ No, no, John, don’t say so,’ utter- ed the wife, no woman can doliall’thc work that you do.’ ‘I don’t mean to tell too much, Mar- garet, only you’ve kept me up.’ A call from the sick room took the wife away, and the old man then began to tell mo, in answer to my questions some of the peculiarities of the great Plain, forwe were on it now ; and I found him well informed and intelli- gent. At length the table was set out, the clean white cloth spread ; and We were invited to sit up; we had excellent white bread, sweet butter, some fine, stewod damsons, and a capital cup ofI There were l apologies, only the food was before usi and we were urng to help ourselves. While we were eating. the ruin ceasâ€" ed falling, but the Weather was by no means clear, thoughjust as We moved from the tablc a gleam of golden light shot through one of the wmdows from the setting sun. tea. no excuses, It may have been an hour after this when a waggon drove tip to the door, The Old man had just come in from the barn, and it. was not so dark but we could see thu The) wi-re middle agcd men, one of then in which wore twu men. faces of the men in the Waggon. habited in a sort ofjnckcy hurtling garb and the other drt sscd in blank Clothigs‘ with that peculiar sly l r of hat and cravat which marks t ed towards our host for the purpose of asking him if he know the new Cnmers. he oliicer. lturn- and I saw he was very pale and trem. bling. A low deep groan escay ed him, and he arose from his chair. He in the l the, I SKETCH YOUR WORLD EXACTLY AS IT GOES.â€"Byron. No. 4. jot-key came in first and his cyes rest-l vd upon Lccman and mysulf. 'Only some travellers, .‘d r. Vaughan.’ said our host. So Mr. Vaughan turned his gaze the room, and at length it was upon the old man. 'Vv’cll,’ he said at lcngth, ‘what about the rent I’ clscwlicrc about ‘ \Vc haven’t a penny of it yet, sir,’ answcrcd the host trembling. ‘ Not a penny! Then how’ll you pa} me twenty poundsl' ‘ 'I‘wcmy pounds? mu rmui‘cd the old man painfully. ‘ Alas! I cannot pay it. sick. and cvcry penny Irould earn has You know he was to have earned the rent if he had bcr-n wcll.’ Yuu know Waller has long l)t.‘Cll bccn paid to the doctor. ‘I don't know anything about it,’ re- turned the landlord doggedly ; for Mr. Vaughan owned the little farm, it after- wards appeared. “ All I know is, that you have had the house and land, andi that for two whole years you haven’t You knowI told: you a month ago that you should have paid me a pcnny. just one month more to pay me. That Illimlll was up last night. Can you pay me I’ ' No, no! ‘ Then you must leave the house.’ ‘ I-Vlion t’ ‘ ’I‘O-lilght l’ ‘ You do not mean that. You not turn us out so quickly 88â€"â€" You had will ’ ‘ Out upon your prating! notice a month ago. How long a notice do you suppose I give? lfyou haven’t had time to move in a month then you must look out for the conse- To-night you move! Ifyou want a shelter you may go into the (picnccs. old house at the horse-pond. ‘ But there is not a window in it.’ ‘ Beggars shouldn't be cliorisers,’ re- markcd Mr. Vaughan. ‘If it wasn’t for hunting up the otliccr Ishould have been here this morning. But lisn’tmy Now I can have a good tenant right off, and he wants the house to morrow. So there is not word to be said. I shall take yourtwo cows, and your sheep, and if they go for more fault. lhantwcnty pounds after taking out the expenses, you shall have the bal- ance back. The poor peasant gazed for a moment half wildly into the landlord’s face, and then sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands. ‘ My COWS! my shet'pl’ he proancd spasmodically. done with it !’ ‘In God’s name, Mr. Vaughau.’ cried the wife, ‘sparc us thcm. Wt will leave the cut, and we \\'ill work with all our might until we pay you every fartbing, but do not take away our very means of life. ‘ Uh, kill me and have M _v poor boy will die! 0h. have pity on us, you an- rich and we are poor.’ ‘Nonscnse!’ uttered the unfeelinu man, ‘ I am used to such stuff. I make a living by renting my farms, and this is one of the best I have. Agood man can lay up more than ten pounds a year herc.’ ‘But we have been sick, sir,’ urged the woman. ‘ That isn't my fault. Ifyou ttl'u paupeis you know where to go and gut takcn care of. Dinw I (In titrl wan! at:- other word. Out ion gm Ill-ll!.{lll Uti- lcss, you pay me the £20. and your I t:O\Vs and sheep go tu.’ I \vasjiist on the point of turning in my companion to ask him if hi: would not liclp in: to make up tlit- sum, for I “as determined the prior folks should not be lurncd out thus. 'l’he yvumzin, h id sunk down, and shc too had t'ilV-l At that; . l l~ct.l first. ci'cd her face with .‘ii-r ll'llltlS. inninc tl.c-.:ninii swung to his His face vm'y pale. and for the time I saw that tcfll‘sllad been running; down his chucks. ‘ lmok yo, sir,’ hc said I) Vaughan. ‘ how lllutill do those 1cm .lc ch \UU.’ l l . O, God knows I can’t." ‘ Twenty pounds,’ returned he, re- garding his interlocutor sharply. ‘ And when did this amount come due in the year I’ ' It was just due a month ago. The rent is £15, but I allowed him four pounds for building a bridge on the river.’ ‘Show me the bill.’ The man pulled out a large leather pocket-book, and from it took a bill. It was rcccipted. Leeman took out his purs: and counted out twenty gold .‘ovci‘eigns. He handed them to the landlord and took the bill ‘I believe that settles the matter, sll‘,’ my companion said, exerting all his power to appear calm. ‘ Yes. sir,’ he replied, ‘ this makes it all right.’ ' Then I suppose they can remain here now undisturbed.’ ‘ But I have no surety ofany pay for the future. A month has already run on an unpaid term.’ ‘It is right you should have your pay. Come to-morrow, sir, and Iwill arrange it with youâ€"only leave us now.’ Mr. Vaughan cast one glance about the room, but without speaking further he luft ; and the officer had to follow him without having anything where- with to earn a fee. As soon as they were gone the old man started to his Ifeet. ‘ Sir,’ he said, turning toward Lee- man, ‘ what means this I Do you think I can ever pay you back again I" “Sometime you can, pcrhaps,’ re- turned my companion. ‘ Yes, yes, John,’ said the wife, sometime we will surely pay him.’ ‘ Alas! when 'l’ ‘ Anytime within a month will aus- wer,’ said Leeman. Both the people looked aghast. ‘0! you have only planted more miscry for us. kind sir,’ cried the old man. ‘We could have borne to be stripped of our goods by the landlord, better than we can bear to rob a noble friend. You must take our stockâ€"our cows and sheep.’ ‘But not yet,’ resumed Lceman. ‘I have another way. Listen. Once ward child.’ ‘ Yes,’ murmured the old man. ‘And what became of him 'I' For some moments the father was silent, but at length said : ‘ Alas! he fled from home long years (inc night (We lived their faroff in Ni'n'thamptonshire) my boy joined with a lot ofothcr youth. most oftliein ohlcr than himself. and cht into the iiark of Sir 'l‘nomas Boyle and carried away two door. He was (.lclcCted. and to escape punishment he fled andl But Sir Thomas would not have punished him for it, for he told me so afterwards.’ :IgO. have not seen him since. ‘ And tell me, John Locman, did you ever hear from that buy I’ ‘ ch'cr.’ As soon as] heard my companion pronounce the old man’s name. the truth flashed upon mo in an instant ; and I was not alone in the conviction. The quick hcart oi'the mother had caught the spark of hope and love. The woman arose and walked toward him. Sue laid her hand upon his head’ :inl trembling whispcied: ‘ For the love of heaven don't de- i'i'th‘ me. But spcak to me; let me ".Itl you .\’.‘ithaiiâ€"â€":\’alhan Leeman.’ ‘ .\nd I shall answer for that is mv iiaiiic,’ i'cpliiad he. .‘\|ltl n hat would you call me !’ gasp -.l tin: woman. ' My mother !’ Tiii- firi: glcamed more brightly on [HP Ii -arlh, and lsaw that aged woman uzmn (hi.- bosom of hi'r long lost boy, and than I saw the father totter up and join than. and Ihcurd i: urmurcd words of tilt-min: and joy. I arose and slip- pwl out of the room and Went to the burn. you had a boy, a wild reckless, way? W It was an hour before I returned and then I found all calm and serene, save that the mother was still weeping, for the head of her returned boy was rest- ing upon hi-r shoulder, and her arm was about his neck. Nathan arose as l entrred, and with a smile he bade me be seated. ‘ You know all as well sol can tell you.’ said he. ‘ When we that stop- ped horeI had no hope of finding my parents; for when I went away oix~ teen years ago, I left them in King’l Throp on the Ken. lkncw then. of course, but I wished to too if they would know me. But from fourteen to thirty in changing period. [think God sent me here.’ he added in a low tone, ‘ for only think what curious cir- cumstances combined to bring me to this cot.’ On the following morning! resum- ed my journey alone, but had to pro. mise that I would surely call there on my return, which I did in eight or nine days, and spent 3 week there. Money possessed some Itrange charms, for it had only given to the poor peasant a sure home for the rest of his life, but it had brought health back to the sick boy. An experienced physician had visited him from Salis- bury and he was now rot-OVering and able to go about, I remained long enough to know that an earthly heaven had grown up in that earthly cot. Nathan told me thathe had over one hundred thousand dollars, and that he should take his parents and brother to some luxurious home when he found one to suit his taste. That was some years ago. I have received several letters from Leeman since, and he is settled down in the suburbs of Bradford, on the banks of the lower Avon, where he has pur- chased a large share in several of the cloth factories in thatplace ; and Iam under solemn promise to visit him if ever I land in England again. MINE ADVERTISEMENT. Rundaway, or sdolen, or Itraid, mine pig plack Horse, apout fourteen oder fifteen hands and six inches hie. He has peen got four plack legs, two .pehint and two before, and he is pluck lall over his pody. put his face, and dot lis plack too. He trods, an gamers. Jan baces, an vawx, and vcn he vawx lhis legs and feet all goes von after I anoderâ€"he has two cars pon his head, poth alike, but von is plackcr dan toder â€"he has two eyes, von is put out, and toder is pon do side of his head, and ven you go on toder sidi: he vont soc youâ€"vet) he eats much he has a pig pallyâ€"and he has a long dale vot lhangs down pehint, put I cut it short 'toder day, and now tis not so long as it vasâ€"he is shot all round, put his pehind shoes comed off, and now he has only got shoes pcforea-he holts up his head and looks gaily, and van he has been scairt he jumps about like every ting in de world-lie vill ride mit a sattle, or a shazc, or a cart, or Vill go py himself mitout nobody put a pop; on his pack init a pay on itâ€"he is not very old, and vein hi: vnwxs or runs, his head comes pcfure and his dale stays pehind. only Vcn he turns round and gits mat, and don his dale comes first. Whoever will pring him pack, shall pay five tollers reward. an if he prings pack do ticf dnt stole him, he shall pay twenty tollcis an ax no questions. â€"â€".oo-eâ€"â€"â€"â€" An exohange paper says:â€"â€"“ Be content a:- long as your mouth is full, and your body coveredâ€"remember the poorâ€"kiss thc pret- ty girlsâ€"don’t rob your neighbor's hen» roost â€"neverpick an editor,s pocki-t or entertain an idea that he is going to treatâ€"kick dull care to the deuceâ€"black your Own bootsâ€"- new your own buttonsâ€"and he soie to take a newspaper and pay for it,” .____.....___. Cnuncn Onxkneurs’ Di:¢tsi0>i.-~The Bishop of EXeter has published a charge, marked with some considerable ability, in which he uppi eves the late dot-ison ofihe Ju dicial Comimttee in Church Ornami‘nt cases, except where it touches upon doctrine which was not before thorn for decision. andjuntiftea himself for still continuing to reject clrrgynwu for precisely-this same reasons that he reject. ed Mr. Gorhcin. on the ground that, in that judgment the Jii~ He rests his justification dicial Committie put into Mr. Gurlmm': mouth a Sikh‘mulll of doctrine which he had never used. the very pomt on which the bishop had condemned Mr. Gorham they Thus this most hzirrasxiiig controversy.t.bmt;_vb while passed over unnoticedâ€"â€" in one sense scttlcil. is liln-ly to be extruded by fresh and Allilllvf itunlpllCHiUtH.