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which only increased it-feeling it to be foolishness to show resentment. After the cause was settled all crowded around me, while Edward was comparatively deserted, which still more incensed him. I passed by him, on my way out of the hall ;—he was leaning on a chair, with an affectation of ease, talking in an assured tone to a couple of gentlemen. I overheard him say, 'John Brighton is a scoundrel, and I can prove it.' He repeated it. Flushed and heated with triumph, I thought of his deep rascality too much, and so forgot mine. Heedless of policy, I turned to him: Sir, I can return the compliment; Mr. Livingston, you are a scoundrel.' He looked up with eyes flashing with joy, at the bait having been caught. You, sir,' he said, 'who are so just, so fair, so truth-loving and God-fearing, cannot object to having me try to prove the innocence of your charge, as well as allowing me to prove the justice of the application of the epithet I used with your name?' Instantly I perceived the net I had fallen into; but there was no escape. He perceived my hesitation, and continued'No evasion, sir, I hope-justice demands it, at least your own honor; if it is not convenient now, any time will do. Shall it be to-morrow? But these gentlemen heard the accusations of both; and if your honor can rest upon their former belief in your most perfect truthfulness and honesty, mine is anxious in its innocence until it be proved guiltless. These gentlemen, sir, shall be our umpires, to decide who, if either, is the scoundrel.'

(To be Continued.)


ACHELOUS! Acheloüs! why is thy torrent roaring?

Have Pindus' snowy summits streams into thee been pouring?
Have heavy storm-clouds on his points been long and wildly fighting,
And discharged their gathered rage, with thunder and with lightning?
Whence this intoxication? Why are thy billows tossing ?-
I've heard or seen no storm thy tranquil bosom crossing.

Drunk by no mountain streams I shout, old thirsty fellow,
Nor hath a laden storm-cloud swelled a solitary billow.

Why do I dance-why do I shout-now mounting high-now sinking?
O, Father Ocean, that I yet had warm blood for thy drinking!
Warm blood I've drunk in floods-warm blood of heroes dying-
The warm blood of free Greeks, upon my green shore lying.
On laurel beds they lie upon the field of glory,

Fanned by the wings of spirit-bands-the great of ancient story;—
Such blood I drank to-day, on the Etolian borders.

Ask'st thou me after slavish blood ?—Send to the swamps thy orders
For such base streams; I cast it forth so coldly flowing:
Free Greek blood only have I drank-I know it by its glowing.
O, Father Ocean! of old times again then wildly dreaming,
And of Young Freedom's joy-my waves tossed, madly streaming
Above my banks, so that with terror shook the vallies!
And all the mountains shouted, as when an army rallies!
Receive me, world embracer!-bear high my crimson torrent,
Unmingled, unpolluted by any meaner current-

Forth to the North and West ;-to every tribe and nation,
O, let me tell of Hella's joy, and Hella's liberation!

Norwich, Conn., June 9th, 1847.

NOTE-Acheloûs is a river in Greece, on whose banks the Greeks, in their Revolution, achieved prodigies of valor under the command of the heroic Bozzaris.

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ature of the State at length gave orders for the erection ma Street Penitentiary to test the practical merits of an improvement distinguished by so many original and admirable features. The experiment succeeded even beyond his expectations; and, happily, Mr. Vaux lived long enough to enjoy the pure satisfaction of witnessing the precious results of so much exertion and such singular,sagacity in the redemption of numerous criminals, and their restoration to honest life. It is

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