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cargo were burnt, to the still greater consternation and dismay of the Yankees, who, however, were placed in irons as a precautionary measure, and left to threaten the direst vengeance, and to ruminate on the entire proceedings until they could be conveniently got rid of. On the same day a Boston vessel was captured after an exciting chase off the Island of Flores. The prisoners of both vessels were set at liberty on the Alabama touching at Flores, the Boston vessel being also set on fire on Sept. 9th, in company with two other vessels which had been captured in the meantime. On the following day another captured vessel was destroyed, and then the Federals had a respite for a few days. On the 13th, 14th, and 15th of September three more vessels were taken and burnt, after the crew of the Alabama had tried some great gun practice upon them. But the mere enumeration of the Federal ships taken and destroyed by the Confederate cruiser, would occupy a great deal of space with a dry catalogue of names. It may suffice to say that from the date of her first capture in September, 1862, to the same period in 1863, a single year-no less than sixty prizes were made by the Alabama, or rather more than one a week. We are not at the present moment in possession of an extract return of the captures during the last eight or nine months; but they have hardly been in proportion to the first year's havoc, as the proceedings of the Alabama and kindred ships, compelled a large number of Federal merchantmen to seek the protection of neutral flags. It has been stated that nearly one hundred Federal merchantmen have altogether succumbed to the Alabama, and this is probably not far from the correct number. With the exception of perhaps a dozen the captured vessels were either burnt or sunk. The motives for sparing any were simple enough. Some were useful in relieving the Alabama of an accumulation of prisoners, and one or two were turned into Confederate cruisers. Captain Semmes went about his work as a man of conscience who had a strong sense of his duty to his government; and even when he released a vessel on condition of taking charge of his prisoners he exacted from the captain a heavy ransom bond to be liquidated at the conclusion of the war. When the Brilliant, laden with corn and flour for starving Lancashire, was captured in October, 1862, Captain Semmes says, it went to his heart to destroy her and her cargo. But he had no other alternative, and his duty to his government compelled him to burn her. In a vessel taken on the 7th of October one of the crew of the Sumter, who had deserted the vessel at Cadiz was found. He was brought on board the Alabama, and a few days afterwards tried as a deserter from the naval service of the Confederate government. He was found guilty, sentenced to lose all title to the wages and prize money due to him, and to complete his term of engagement without any pay except sufficient to provide him with clothing and other necessaries. It would have been much more conducive to the ease of the captain and his officers if this man, whose name was Forrest, had been summarily punished, and discharged from the ship on the first opportunity. From the moment of his condemnation he lost no opportunity of exciting mutinous feelings amongst the crew, and for a length of time continued to be the evil spirit of the forecastle. It was not his fault that the career of the Alabama was not speedily brought to a close.

On Oct. 16th, the Alabama experienced a terrific gale, which put her qualities as a sea-going vessel to a severe test. She proved herself an excellent boat, but sustained damages which compelled her to lie-to for repairs during some days. She then recommenced her destructive career, steering for New York, off which port it was the intention of Captain Semmes to

cruise for some time. He found, however, that his coals would not carry him so far, and was accordingly obliged to make for Port Royal, Martinique, where he arrived on the 18th November, capturing some prizes on the way. The trusty Agrippina was awaiting the Alabama at Port Royal with a cargo of coal, but before the latter could take in a supply—that is, on the morning of Nov. 19th, the Federal war steamer San Jacinto, 14 guns, came steaming into the harbour, to the no small consternation of the Confederates. The governor of Port Royal interfered in vindication of the principles of international law, and gave the Federal vessel the option of going beyond a distance of three miles from the mouth of the harbour, or, if she cast anchor, remaining for 24 hours after the departure of the Confederate. The captain of the San Jacinto accepted the former alternative, as affording him the better chance of capturing the Alabama. But the vessel was not to be easily taken. Captain Semmes perceived that he must get out of the trap, or fight out of it, without delay, as every hour increased the chances of more Federal vessels coming up, and thus multiplying the difficulties and dangers of exit. After a brief consultation with his officers he determined to run out that very night, and take his chances of escape or battle.

To be continued.

TRUE COPY OF A JURY.

The following "True Copy of a Jury taken before Judge Doddridge, at the Assizes holden at Huntingdon A.D. 1619," may amuse our readers. The Judge had in the preceding circuit censured the Sheriff for impannelling men not qualified by rank for serving on the Grand Jury, and the Sheriff being a humourist, resolved to fit the Judge with sounds at least: On calling over the following names and pausing emphatically at the end of the christian, instead of the surname, his lordship began to think he had indeed a jury of quality.

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The Judge, it is said, was highly pleased with this practical joke, and commended the Sheriff for his ingenuity. The descendants of some of these illustrious Jurors still reside in the County, and bear the same names; in particular, a Maximilian King we are informed still presides over Toseland.

R. C.

A CURE FOR THE TOOTHACHE.

In Lincolnshire, there lived a certain gentleman, whose cook called Meggy, suffered intensely for a considerable time from toothache, and at last she acquainted her master with her sufferings. He deemed it advisable to pursue a different course from that lately reported, to have been followed by the present Archbishop of York, when suffering from an acute attack of the same complaint.* He told her he had a book of receipts for the cure of every ailment, and he would at once see what medicine was prescribed for her complaint. Accordingly he desired one of his daughters, to fetch him the book from his study. The book was brought, and with a solemn countenance the master examined it. For sometime he turned over leaf after leaf, and studied their contents, while Meggy's tooth still ached. At last he said, "Meggy, I have found something that will cure your toothache; and it is a charm. To render it however, of any avail, you must kneel down and humbly ask it for Saint Charity." The woman, glad to be released of her pain, knelt down, and said, "Master, for Saint Charity let me have that medicine." "Then,” replied he, “continue on your knees and say after me." He began and said as follows:The sun on the Sunday. The sun on the Sunday.

Master.

Cook.

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Meggy, thinking her master was only mocking her, hastily rose from her knees, filled with anger, and shaking her clenched fist at him, said, “I swear, thou mocking churl, I will not bide in thy service any longer," and then hastily quitted the room. She at once went to her chamber, to make preparation for her departure. While thus engaged, it occurred to her, that her toothache had ceased, but she knew not how long it had left her, by reason of her passion. At this time her master entered the room, and asked Meggy about her toothache, and on her informing him that it had passed off, he told her it was the work of the charm, and that she should not leave his service. Thus we see that anger may possibly sometimes remove bodily pain.

* Dr. Thompson, whilst Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol, had been suffering from severe toothache, and it was pronounced necessary to alleviate the suffering by chloroform. Now, the bishop's wife, a most amiable but timid person, was very averse to this; she greatly admired her husband's well-known mental powers, and could not divest her mind of the idea that chloroform had any injurious effect upon the brain. But the bishop, notwithstanding her urgent remonstrances, decided on employing the sedative; the dose was administered, the tooth painlessly extracted, and the parties returned home. The prelate had recovered his usual health, when shortly afterwards a letter was delivered to him from the Premier, Lord Palmerston, offering to his acceptance the Arch-bishopric of York. He could not resist the impetus of at once communicating the intelligence to the sharer of his joys and sorrows; so, in rather an excited manner, entering her apartments, he exclaimed, "I am Archbishop of York!" The poor lady was sadly disconcerted; she felt assured that her worst fears were realised, and that he had become seriously affected in his mind. "Ah!" she exclaimed, "I told you so; I knew how it would be; that horrid chloroform! Go and lie down, and compose yourself." "Indeed, my dear," replied the bishop, "the news is true." But she could not be divested of her

impression until the letter was put into her hands.

THE ARAB'S FAREWELL TO HIS STEED.

The affectionate terms on which the Arab families live with their horses sometimes occasions extreme regret when they are obliged from necessity to sell them. D'Arvieux mentions a Syrian merchant, who cried most tenderly while caressing his mare, whose genealogy he said he could trace for five hundred years. And the feelings of another, who had taken gold for a steed on which he had set an extraordinary value, have been thus vigorously and pathetically described:

"My beautiful! my beautiful! that standest meekly by,

With thy proudly arch'd and glossy neck, and dark and fiery eye;
Fret not to roam the desert now, with all thy winged speed,

I may not mount on thee again-thou 'rt sold, my Arab steed!
Fret not with that impatient hoof, snuff not the breezy wind,
The further that thou fliest now, so far am I behind.

The stranger hath thy bridle rein-thy master hath his gold.
Fleet-limb'd and beautiful! farewell! thou 'rt sold, my steed, thou 'rt sold.
Farewell! Those free untired limbs full many a mile must roam,
To reach the chill and wintry sky which clouds the stranger's home;
Some other hand, less fond, must now thy corn and bed prepare,
Thy silky mane I braided once, must be another's care.

The morning sun shall dawn again, but never more with thee,
Shall I gallop through the desert paths, where we were wont to be;
Evening shall darken on the earth, and o'er the sandy plain,
Some other steed, with slower step, shall bear me home again.
Yes, thou must go. The mild, free breeze, the brilliant sun and sky,
Thy master's house-from all of these my exiled one must fly.
Thy proud dark eye will grow less proud, thy step become less fleet,
And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck, thy master's hand to meet.
Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye glancing bright;
Only in sleep shall I hear again that step so firm and light:
And when I raise my dreaming arm to check or cheer thy speed,
Then must I, starting, wake to feel-thou 'rt sold, my Arab steed!
Ah! rudely then, unseen by me, some cruel hand may chide,
Till foam-wreaths lie, like crested waves, along thy panting side;
And the rich blood that's in thee swells, in thy indignant pain,
Till careless eyes which rest on thee may count each starting vein.
Will they ill-use thee? If I thought-but no, it cannot be,
Thou art so swift, yet easy curb'd; so gentle, yet so free:

And yet, if haply, when thou 'rt gone, my lonely heart should yearn,
Can the hand which casts thee from it now, command thee to return?

Return! Alas! my Arab steed! what shall thy master do,
When thou, who wast his all of joy, hast vanish'd from his view?

When the dim distance cheats mine eye, and through the gathering tears,
Thy bright form for a moment, like the false mirage, appears?

Slow and unmounted shall I roam, with weary step alone,
Where with fleet step and joyous bound, thou oft hast borne me on,
And sitting down by that green well, I'll pause and sadly think,

'It was here he bow'd his glossy neck when last I saw him drink!'
When last I saw him drink! Away! the fever'd dream is o'er,
I could not live a day, and know that we should meet no more.
They tempted me, my beautiful! for hunger's power is strong,—
They tempted me, my beautiful! but I have loved too long.
Who said that I had given thee up? who said that thou wast sold!
'Tis false-'tis false, my Arab steed! I fling them back their gold
Thus, thus I leap upon thy back, and scour the distant plains;
Away! who overtakes us now, shall claim thee for his pains ;"

THE BENEFITS OF LIFE ASSURANCE.

The subject of Life Assurance admits of being discussed with advantage in various ways. It might be treated historically, statistically, or scientifically. In each of these ways many interesting facts might be recorded, and many important principles exhibited. My object is not to discuss this subject, except to a very limited extent, in any of the ways alluded to. I shall endeavour to take that view which appears to me to be the simplest, and of the most practical kind. My desire is to make a few remarks, which occur to me as favouring Life Assurance, and which may, perhaps, be calculated to induce some of my readers to insure their lives.

Now; What is Life Assurance? It is the exercise of a prudent forethought, arising from motives of love and benevolence. It secures a partial independence for those whom we leave behind us-it mitigates the widow's grief, and the orphan's wretchedness. It is very efficacious in its operation, as it regards the moral and domestic comfort of the people. It has a direct tendency to reduce taxation, by its reduction of pauperism, and an indirect tendency to suppress crime, or rather to prevent crime; and, if universally adopted would prove to be a national blessing. affords an opportunity to persons of every class, and in every station of life, for providing the means of averting much future misery from their families, and not only that, but of rendering them independent of public or private charity. In plain words, Life Assurance is a provident scheme by which any sum of money may be secured at death, whenever that takes place, to the surviving relatives, or to be received at any given age, by the person thus insured.

It

We are informed that the importance of Assurance, has been recognized by employers, to a very surprising extent. We have it on the highest authority, that Principals of some of the most extensive Establishments in London, sensible of the great advantages resulting from the practice, have recently adopted the resolution of requiring every individual in their employ, whether Clerk, Porter, or Warehouseman, to insure his life, for such a reasonable amount as his salary will admit of. The beneficial tendency of this regulation admits of no doubt. It not only affords some guarantee for the good conduct of the insured, but it is a judicious and humane interference of the Masters, in behalf of the families of the persons who are employed by them. By this plan a provision is almost imperceptibly secured

to them, when they would most probably, in many cases, otherwise, have been thrown upon the parish. I would urge upon my readers to consider this subject seriously. The Life Assurance Companies offer facilities, to the heads of families to insure for those who are the nearest and dearest to them, a pecuniary provision, when they themselves shall be no longer able to administer to their support. It is a laudable, honourable and safe way of preventing a very large amount of human misery. In a moral point of view, the advantages are many and great. I will now bring forward the great fact upon which Life Assurance depends, and which statistical tables have demonstrated, to bear on this subject: we find it stated in Chambers' Miscellany, "that life, uncertain in the individual, is determined with respect to a multitude, being governed, like everything else in nature, by fixed laws. It is found that out of any large number of persons, at a particular age, the deaths during the ensu ing year will be a certain number. Suppose we take ten thousand Englishmen of the age of 52, we are as sure as we are of the times of eclipses, and the rising of the sun, and moon, that the deaths among them next year will be about 150. This is learned from experience; that is, by keeping tables of mortality. The number is liable to be different in different countries, and at different ages. Of course, among ten thousand younger persons, the deaths are fewer and of older persons, more; every age has its proportion." At any age, then, there must be, according to certain fixed laws, a certain number of deaths in a given period of time, and no one is able to say that he shall not be among that number which will die, in that time. There is the most positive proof to every one, that death will come to so many of his own age exactly; and there is no gainsaying this fact, that to whom it shall come, there is the most perfect uncertainty. follows, therefore, that the duty is incumbent upon all alike, to consider this matter carefully, and to provide for it, that it may not fall upon his family, and overwhelm them in abject poverty, at the same time they are plunged into grief, for the loss sustained! It behoves every parent as far as he is able to prevent the worst results, from falling upon his unprotected little ones, unawares.

It

Dr. Cook, an American writer, has the following, on this subject, "It is hardly possible to over estimate the extent of the calamity, when the head of a family is struck down, and the members of it are left in helplessness and poverty. It is not enough, in such a case, that the affections

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