lieve
we should behold a perfect cure. There is, I own, something
shocking to nature in the experiment; but if the patient be
already lost, and dead to society, why should we hesitate a
moment to make the trial, when the probability of succeeding
is so flattering?

_Salem Gazette,_ July 12, 1791.

It would be interesting to see the punch-bowl out of which the members
of Congress drank in 1811, on the day succeeding the marriage of Mr. and
Mrs. Pearson.

At Washington, Hon. JOSEPH PEARSON, Esq. (Federal
Representative from N. Carolina), to Miss ELEANOR BRENT,
daughter of Robt. Brent, Esq., Mayor of the city.-- --> _The
greater part of the members, the next day, left the business
of the nation to attend the punch drinking, so that the
House adj'd at an early hour_. Dec. 13, 1811.

* * * * *

As the following lines have the indorsement of a Hartford paper, we
venture to reproduce them:--

From the New-York Daily Advertiser, May 10.

DESCRIPTION OF CONNECTICUT.

HERE fond remembrance stampt her much lov'd names,
Here boasts the soil its _London_ and its _Thames_;
Throughout her shores commodious ports abound,
Clear flow the waters of the varying ground;
Cold nipping winds a lengthen'd winter bring,
Late rise the products of the tardy spring.
The broken soil a labouring race requires;
Each barren hill its generous crops admires,
Where nature meanly did her gifts impart,
Yet, smiling, owns how much she owes to art.

But keen as winds that guide the wintry reign,
All bow to lucre, all are bent on gain;
As chance decreed, their various lots are thrown;
Its house each acre, every mile its town;
With gilded spire the frequent church is seen,
Sacred to him that taught them to be keen;
Eternal squabblings grease the lawyer's paw,
All have their suits, and all have studied law;
With tongue that art and nature taught to speak,
Some rave in Latin, some dispute in Greek;
Proud of their books, in ancient lore they shine,
And one month's study makes a learn'd divine;
Fond to converse, with deep designing views,
They pump the travelling stranger of his news;
Fond of his wit, but fonder to be paid,
Each house a tavern, claims a tavern's trade;
While he that comes, as surely hear