doubting. Mr. Morgan assumed a stern appearance, and the constable said that he must perform his duty, and convey his prisoner to the lock-up-house, preparatory to her being sent to the magistrate in the town on the morrow. tions of the imagination, so beautiful had he painted them, she wondered if ever he would think of her; if ever he returned, would he come.-Yes he would come, were it only to claim Catherine for his wife, and this thought alone, sent a stab to her heart. Heavenward then flew her hopes. She gazed up into the blue ether, and it seemed as she gazed, as if her anxious thoughts would pierce through to where her mother's spirit dwelt. Through the calm air above everything seemed to waft a Lilly had evidently been unprepared for this. So fully convinced had she been of her own innocence, that she felt assured that the investigation of the affair would prove it. Now, when she heard the coarse speech of the constable, and gazing around, saw that she was friend-remembrance of her love. Lilly felt as though she would less, save in the helpless child that clung sobbing and frightened to her, she wildly clasped her hands and raised her eyes to Heaven, silently sending forth from the depths of her soul, a prayer for aid from thence, if denied her upon earth. "Will no one have compassion on me?" she cried, "and prevent me from being taken to prison? Can you, Catherine Morgan-can you, however I may have wronged you-can you have the heart to see me thus used?-You know I am innocent-By the remembrance of your own mother, I beseech you speak for me!" And Lilly would have knelt at Catherine's feet, but she repulsed her with a scornful laugh, and tossing her head, said: "A pretty story you have contrived to make up.-I know you to be innocent; I wish I did. You with your smooth tongue think to deceive us all into a belief of your own innocence." "Nay, Catherine, the punishment of her fault, if she has committed one, is enough," said Mr. Morgan; "we need not reproach her," and he raised the poor girl kindly, for he remembered he had daughters, and how they would feel placed in a similar situation. "Come," said Sarah, softly, "come, cheer up. God never deserts the innocent," she whispered. There is no cause for grief, if you are innocent." "But to be shut up like a felon all night-Oh, will no one spare me that is there no one to speak one kind word for me?" Catherine had hurried away, for she could not look unmoved on the misery she had created. The constable advanced to do his duty, and Lilly, fainting, was borne | away. Sarah after much eutreaty, and vain attempts at consolation, persuaded little William to accompany her home, and await the event of the morrow. No one spoke to Catherine, they shunned her that night, and she, guilty and comfortless, slunk away to her room, with a consciousness that she had done that, the consequences of which would surely haunt her dreams. Lilly meanwhile was conveyed to her dreary abode for the night. The lock-up-house stood upon a slightly elevated spot near the sea, a little distance from the village. In the room appropriated to prisoners, there was one window very high up and very small. When left alone to her own thoughts, Lilly after giving way to a burst of tears, knelt down in the darkness, and prayed long and fervently. As she did so, a deep calm stole over her mind, and she felt that she was strengthened for the trial of to-morrow. By mounting on her solitary chair, she found that she could reach the window, and amuse herself with the scene partially enshrouded in darkness. There before her lay the ocean, uttering a deep restless murmur, as ever and anon the billows rolled one over the other to the shore. The village to her left was sprinkled with lights, all wore a cheerful appearance there; and she sighed to think of the many happy homes it contained-while where was she? To her right was a low ridge of hills sweeping out in a long curve into the sea, and ending miles away in a sharp point. Lilly's thoughts wandered far over the deep waves, to one whom she had seen but for a brief span. There was more of love in the anxious yearning she felt for his presence, than she knew. She wondered if in his pilgrimage to lands which seemed like crea be borne upward then, at that moment, to Heaven. Suddenly, above the crest of the heaving billows, there appeared that star. There it burnt brightly and clearly, as though stationed there to bring hope to Lilly's heart. It was a resting point for the eye. to let it fall upon that bright light, after wandering over the undiversified bosom of the ocean, which in the uncertain light seemed an illimitable moving expanse, bounded only by deep darkness beyond. There was something in the air which told of the coming of a storm. For two days the wind had been blowing threateningly, and now the Heavens were overcast with black clouds. The waves rose higher and higher, and now and then the star was lost entirely. Lilly watched the scene with increasing interest. The sea-mew shrieked along the rocks, and its shrill scream re-echoed far and near. Through the crevices of the rocks, and round the jutting promontory, the wind howled with fearful violence, and the waves mounted higher, and as they broke upon the shore sounded like the crashing of a ship upon the rocks. Lilly trembled, for she remembered the night when her father was cast upon the sand, when the villagers flocked down with torches to the beach, and bore up the bodies to their kindred and friends. Her thoughts wandered to the vessel, which she pictured to herself far out at sea, tossed by every gale, and a silent prayer swelled in her breast for the stranger who had come with words of consolation to her home. Suddenly in the midst of the storm the star disappeared utterly-all was darknessthen it arose again, but seemned driven by the wind now to one side now to another. Lilly watched with extreme eagerness the course taken by the light, for the thought now struck her that it was some vessel unable to proceed for the storm. As the fury of the elements increased, so did Lilly's excitement, and when the light seemed to be coming nearer and more near, she could scarcely contain her emotions. The fearful weather had aroused the inhabitants of the village, for Lilly saw lights reappearing in many of the houses previously darkened; and from a point of land jutting out into the sea, the light-house, only kindled in times of danger, shed forth a bright glare over the water. Down along the coast Lilly could perceive dark figures gliding to and fro, and she knew that these were the wreckers, who were waiting for their prey. The roaring of the wind along that unsheltered coast seemed like one prolonged clap of thunder, and almost entirely deadened the sound of the waves which angrily lashed the shore. The light had now come much nearer, but was driven by the blast near to the line of the promontory, which Lilly knew to be full of shoals and breakers. Her heart beat quickly, she held her breath, and broken prayers for the safety of the vessel passed her lips. As long as the light appeared and reappeared on the surface of the angry waters, she knew that all was safe. Now and then long intervals elapsed between its appearances. Crowds with torches were running down to the beach, when a long cry was heard out at sea, rising for a moment above the roar of the blast. The light, faint and dim, crested the waves, sunk down, and over the angry sea all was darkness. Lilly watched and strained her eyes to discover some trace for hope, and waited for the re-appearance of the light, but all in vain. There was increased bustle on the beach, lights passed and repassed, torches flared in the wind, and figures hastened to-and-fro. There had been a wreck, and the crew were, even now, perhaps, struggling with the waves. Lilly hid her face and wept, for it seemed as if she were transported back again to a night of terror in the long past, and her mother's agonizing wail over her father's corpse seemed borne on every gale. All night there was movement upon the beach, and all night Lilly watched, and as the dawn broke the leaden atmosphere over the ocean, it seemed all clear and still. The wind was hushed, aud the waves were sinking gradually to rest. Lilly now fell asleep for a short time, and dreamt of her childhood. Early associations and forms glided spirit-like round her couch, and fairy gardens and palaces were created by her imagination, while through the trees voices seemed to whisper "God never deserts the innocent." And morning came, and the first words which greeted her half-awakened senses were, "God never deserts the innocent." Startling up she beheld Sarah Morgan leaning over her, and William at her side, while through the half-open door a sunburnt face looked in with a joyous smile. Lilly, in speechless surprise, looked from one to the other, while Sarah hastened to speak, Your innocence is fully proved, Lilly,-Captain Johnson came ashore last night from the wreck in the life-boat, and has cleared up everything by his presence. It only remains for you, Lilly, to forgive my misguided sister her wickedness, and this, you, who love God and his precepts, will easily do." To linger over explanations is not our object. It will suffice, briefly, to tell the reader that the consequences of the storm at sea were to bring happiness to most of the personages of our tale. Catherine, with her family, immediately quitted the village and settled in a town far distant, where the effect of her disgrace, it was hoped, would not follow her; but Lilly Watson no longer dwelt in the little village, Captain Johnson made her his wife, and soon after obtaining a situation on the coast, gave up his long and dangerous voyages on the sea. He had been prevented by contrary winds from proceeding further on his voyage for two days, and when the storm came the vessel struck upon a rock, though every life was saved. The star that Lilly had watched was the bright light issuing from the cabin-window. Lilly, from all that occurred, learnt to believe, with even more steadfast faith, that God watches over the fatherless and the oppressed, and will protect them through every circumstance of life. MUSICAL LANGUAGE. A PLAN was in existence some years since, to form an universal language, to be spoken in tones of music, and to give that vile, mischief-making member the tongue, a perpetual holiday. How delightful this would be; and why has it been abandoned? Only imagine some poor benighted husband who has been out upon business until three in the morning, on at last reaching his vine and fig tree, instead of the customary greeting of his cara sposa's shrill pipe, wound up to Caudle pitch, to be softly and soothingly blown up with a trumpet. An objection might be raised; it might be said all cannot play; but as Rome was not built in a day, we recommend small beginnings; and as all can sing,-some to be sure (for instance, ourselves) after a very peculiar fashion, we advise a free use of popular songs-a single line of one of which may contain the soul of a host of words. What could be more appropriate than to have a dozen or so of white-aproned butchers sing at the top of their voices, for the opening chorus of the market "Here we meet!" Suppose again some fair creature overtaken by a shower, the heavy drops falling fast upon her snowy bosom, until she has a drop too much. Suppose, we say, under these embarrassing circumstances, she should stop, and in melodious strain address that "myth," the Clerk of the Weather, with "Thou, thou, reignest in this bosom," How fine would be the effect! and rural pleasure, would have the audacity to request an What horrid misanthrope, hater of the morning walk, immediate change of weather by saying "Hail, smiling morn." It would be at least an approximation to a musical and poetic language; words might be altered for the occasion, or an extra verse or two thrown in impromptu. This, however, would not be always safe to attempt. We had a friend who fondly imagined himself gifted with the true poetic fire-he had made a slight mistake, it was only an aptitude for jingling words together; and so one evening having been requested to sing a very pathetic ditty, he proceeded fearlessly on, until at the conclusion of these lines"Rock, and tree, and flowing water, Bird and bee, and blossom taught her-" his evil genius gave his memory a sudden jog, and losing its balance, out slipped the next line; but he was not be done so easily, and catching instantly at the rhyme, sang "pleno ore,' "To know just what she hadn't oughter." This, perhaps, incorporated in a few words the spirit of the song. The rhyme was kept up, but for some unexplained reason the effect was far from flattering; tears, to be sure, flowed freely, but alas, not the sad offspring of an over-wrought sentimentality. A dealer in naval stores might give, with great effect"When I beheld the anchor weighed," and conclude by informing us how much it came to at a certain price per pound. "When twilight dews are falling fast," may be a very pretty air, but it would sound unpleasantly to a man upon the verge of bankruptcy, for though twilight falling dew may be light, pleasant, and easy to bear, yet it would remind him of notes falling due, not so easy to lift; the notes would grate upon his ear, and it were far more charitable to favour him with "I know a bank," which would undoubtedly suggest discounts, and "wild time" given. Should a lover in a moment of delirium seat himself upon that modern pandoraism, a bandbox containing a bonnet of the latest fashion, we recommend the ditty"I'm sitting on the stile, Mary." If this would not pacify the lady, he should then be at liberty to exclaim, "fie, Mary," and she would be Molly-fied. An auctioneer, to induce his customers to follow him to what, in old parlance, was termed a vendue, might cheer them on with, "Oh, shall we go a sailing?" We heard the other day a beautiful application of a charming song. A man down east, engaged in cutting pine timber, pleaded with his wife, who was about to leave him, because he would call her Molly-a name which she detested. He insisted that Molly she was born, and Molly she should be called. As she turned to leave him in the forest, these words smote her car, and we hope her heart also: "Oh, Molly Bawn, why leave me pining?" If, dear reader, you are a lady-but stop, under such circumstances the "dear" may seem too affectionate and presuming, considering our short acquaintance-so, air reader, if you be a lady--as of course you are-and if presiding at your breakfast table, the coffee urn should refuse further discounts of liquid amber, then pacify the frowning countenances around you with, "There was a little maid." An industrious person desiring her lord and master to arise and take the baby while she prepared the breakfast, might use with great effect the temperance ode,— “Awake, awake, and take the pledge!" The corallines also are active in raising the surface of very large islands and coral reefs, commencing about 70 to 100 feet under water. There are immense series of coral reefs along the Madagascar and Malabar coast; and one extends from New Holland to New Guinea, a distance of 700 miles. The corallines are very minute animals, some scarcely A friend, whose strongly developed somnolent propen-visible to the naked eye; they inhabit small cups like sities made him invariably the last at the morning meal, was finally cured by his sister's playing regularly as a réveillé in the room underneath him-the " Last Rose of Summer," with variations of hers.-New York Literary World. GEOLOGICAL. OUTLINES. PART III. PREVIOUS to the year 1822, the crater of Mount Vesuvius was in so quiescent a state, and for so long a period, that it was nearly filled up with fragments which fell from the edge, mixed with ashes, pieces of lava, &c.; forming, at length, a rich soil, upon which flourished a wood, which became a shelter for wild animals. In twenty days, not only was the whole of this thrown up into the air, but a cavity was formed three miles in circumference, and five hundred feet in depth, and, in addition to this, the top of the mountain was swept clear away to the depth of 800 feet. In Peru, there have been eruptions of boiling mud, and fishes (probably thrown up from subterraneous lakes) to such an extent as to taint the air, and produce malignant fevers, for many miles around the volcano from which they were projected. Ten or twelve years ago there was a beautiful plain near Messina, covered with plantations of sugar and indigo. A volcanic mountain rose in it to the height of 1,600 feet in a single night, and the whole country, for sixteen miles round, was raised 500 feet. A river disappeared, which formerly watered that district. A mountain, near Naples, called Monte Nuovo, rose from the bed of the sea 240 feet above its level in 24 hours, it was a mile and a half in circumference. The island of Santerrene, some miles in circumference, was erupted in 1705, and it is still rising; a new rock rose in a month about thirty or forty feet above the level of the water. It made the water so hot as to melt the tar on the bottoms of vessels that approached it, and also to kill vast numbers of fish. In 1822 an earthquake elevated several hundred miles of the coast of Chili, by a single eruption, nearly four feet; a succession of terraces can be traced further inland evidently raised in the same manner, as they all contain beds of marine shells. The island of Owhyhee (where the brave Captain Cook was killed) is entirely volcanic, and must have arisen out of the sea at some former period. It contains a surface of 4,000 square miles, and the peaks of its volcanic mountains rise to a height of fifteen or sixteen thousand feet above the level of the sea. Volcanic force, acting from below, on the stratified rocks, produces contortions and disruption of the strata. Soft marl or clay would yield to the force and twist; hard limestone would crack, causing fissures. Sometimes one portion of a rock will be lifted a hundred feet higher than the other, causing, what are called, dislocations of strata ; sometimes the central part of a rock will be forced completely out of its berth, and the two ends merely lifted up. It also sometimes exerts a very gradual force, uplifting vast tracts of country a few feet in a century, so that it can only be observed by actual measurement. The shores of the Gulf of Bothnia were observed to rise in this manner by Mr. Lyell, and they have risen a few inches since the year 1820. flowers, united together by a common stem; they make use of the lime which sea water contains in solution, to form their abodes, which, eventually, become compressed into a carbonate of lime, forming islands sometimes thirty miles in circumference. Fine specimens of the various kinds of coral may be seen in the British Museum. Chalk is generally the remains of coral reefs reduced to powder by the action of the waves; held in suspension and deposited in strata at an immense depth. A cubic inch of chalk has been found to contain more than a million small shells when examined by a microscope; the shells being not more than the part of a line in magnitude. The infusorial animals are yet smaller; but their remains, after many ages, form entire strata; though almost invisible through any but powerful microscopes, they pos sess stomachs, mouth, teeth, eyes, nervous system, bloodvessels, and shells, &c.; their shells are composed of flint and not lime; some live in colonies; and eighteen millions of them would scarcely occupy a cubic inch. There are eighty-four different fossil species, and a stratum of eight feet thick, and many miles in length, has been found near Hanover (which is used by the German soldiers for cleaning their brass ornaments) entirely composed of the remains of infusorial animals. The principal rocks, so far as yet discovered, generally are found lying in the following position, commencing on the surface of the earth, and going gradually down to the plutonic rocks, and arranged in groups for more easy reference and description. ancients, and they consist of several varieties of granite; they have been originally formed in the lower part of the earth, subjected to intense volcanic heat-afterwards undergoing a very slow cooling, causing crystallization; they are never found above the primary series, except after they have been forced up by volcanic pressure from beneath. The primary series lying above these are called metamorphic, because the great heat of the Plutonic rocks has gradually changed them into a crystallized rock, and completely obliterated all trace of fossil remains, if any ever existed. The primary series, however, contains dis-worm, however, is often a source of great annoyance to tinct evidence of stratified formation originally deposited from the debris of the granitic series. All the remaining series are stratified, and contain fossil remains of animals more numerously scattered through them as we approach the surface. The earth-worm differs from its more destructive brother, by having no visible outward covering, by burrowing in the ground, and being but partially oviparous; leeches and earth-worms depositing capsules, as they are called, containing many embryo young. The worm subsists upon decayed vegetable matter, such as leaves, and where these are to be had it seldom touches a living plant. In the autumn, or early winter, its labours are best seen, for the earth being strewed with the dead leaves from plants, it is busily engaged in dragging them into the earth, first for food, and afterwards as a manure to the soil. The those who preserve plants in the house in winter. If care has not been taken to exclude them from the pots, they are apt in the absence of other sources of nourishment to attack the roots, or other parts of plants which may be within their reach. In such cases we have sometimes The two sciences of Zoology and Geology are very inti- been compelled to take the plant from the pot, and presmately connected, and serve to illustrate each other. By sing the soil gently, force the worm from its lair. Many examining the skeletons, and more especially the teeth however, use lime water, or a solution of corrosive subof the fossil remains, we are enabled to reconstruct the limate, which has the effect of destroying the worm. animals as it were in imagination; decide as to their food, This process is sometimes necessary in gardens, where whether vegetable or animal, and so follow out the chain plants, whose leaves recline on the ground, are liable to be of animals or vegetables to the bottom of the scale. In injured by the worm; but in destroying the poor animal like manner we can form a very accurate opinion of the we should never forget its usefulness. Let us look to its climate which then existed, by comparing things present labours over all nature, and not to the slight injury we with things past. may receive from an act of self-preservation. Look at it in the autumn, in fields and woods, carrying the leaves that strew the ground, down through the small aperture formed by its body into its winter home, and then think of the result of such labours. The soil is fertilized, the trees and grass flourish, and what is stealthily carried down from the surface is given to the roots of plants, or cast up as excrement to the surface, at once a source of nourishment and gratification to man. The worm is indeed a great agriculturist. Carnivorous animals (or flesh eaters) are distinguished by short and powerful jaws, teeth adapted for cutting, (called incisors,) and for tearing, (called canine teeth,) and the almost total absence of molares, or grinding teeth. The common house-cat may be taken as a specimen. If, therefore, in a rock deposited some thousand years ago, we find the tooth of a lion, or any other of the higher order of carnivorous animals, we may infer that the lower animals must have existed also, to provide them with food; and the latter being generally herbivorous animals, we infer the growth of grass, and all kinds of vegetables; because the scale is so perfect, that if you remove two or three links it would be destroyed. No species of animal or vegetable was ever created in vain, or as a supernumerary. Herbivorous animals are distinguished by the length of the jaw; the absence of canine teeth, and the number of molares or grinders; the mouth of the sheep or cow may be examined as a specimen. Thus by finding the teeth we rebuild the animal; and from that, the remainder of the chain, both animal and vegetable. Bears feed on seals; if we find the bear we know that the seal must have formerly existed, and the sea it lived in with all its inhabitants. THE EARTH-WORM. UNCOUTH and even offensive-looking as the common earth-worm appears, there is much in its natural history and habits both instructive and useful. The worm CORNERS. Corners have always been popular. The chimneycorner, for instance, is endeared to the heart from the earliest to the latest hour of existence. The corner cupboard! What stores of sweet things has it contained for us in youth—with what luxuries its shelves have groaned in manhood!-A snug corner in a will! Who ever objected to such a thing?-A corner in a woman's heart! Once get there, and you may soon command the entire domain. A corner in the Temple of Fame! Arrive at that, and you become immortal. RETRIBUTION. Divine retribution always belongs to eternity, and is distant and vague. Human retribution is uncertain, depending upon discovery, and other fortuitous circumstances; but moral retribution is as sure as life, as sure as death, as sure as the sin out of whose bosom it springs, as natural as the pain that follows the contact of fire. Human and legal retribution we may elude by concealment. Divine retribution we may avert by a timely repentance. But moral retribution we must suffer, and that, not by the arbitrary sentence of a despot, but by the natural action of an equitable law, old as eternity, HALF-A-PINT OF ALE A YARD OF LAND. belongs to an extensive tribe of animals, called by the celebrated French naturalist Cuvier, the Annelidæ, from the Latin word annulus, a ring; the animals composing the class, being formed of a series of circles, perhaps answering the purpose of the spine and bones of the higher animals. Some of the worm tribe form cells for them-immutable as God. selves in which they live, while others simply burrow in the ground, or float in water, as the earth-worm and the useful leech, without any apparent coverings. To this It is not often, we dare say, that a man thinks, when large class belongs that destructive animal the wood- he drinks "a gill of ale," he is swallowing a square yard worm, which is so destructive to ships, and to piles of of land! Yet so it is. There are 31,700,000 acres of wood when in water. The unseen labours of this insi- land in England, the rental of whieh is £30,000,000, or dious worm are the more dangerous, that it in general 19s. 2d. per acre. An acre, therefore, at twenty-five leaves the outer surface of the timber untouched, while years' purchase, is of the value of £23 19s. 2d., or the interior portion is but a mass of dust, which the 5,750 pence. Divide this by 4,840 (the number of slightest accident may break. Unfortunately the wood-square yards in an acre), and you have a peuny and a fifth worm is now but too common in our own seas, although as the average value of a square yard of English ground! it is supposed to have originally come from the trop 2. -Gateshead Observer. THERE IS SOMETHING YE MAY DO! BRETHREN, in this life's existerce, Of oppression's thralling band; Brighter moments are at hand. Something while one tithe of grieving Or a blazon'd wrong exist. Something, if your hand is willing, While they robe fair Truth in shame, Faints and blots a nation's name. Single ears make harvest's sheaves. Every little act is telling, In the giant scale of time; In its moving, still, to prove FREDERICK ENOCH. DIAMOND DUST. A LITTLE Wrong done to another is a great wrong done to ourselves. EVERY body is innocent in some corner of the mind, and has faith in something. SEEK the world without; it is for art, the inexhaustible pasture ground and harvest to the world within. STORMS in the heart generally make a wreck of peace. THERE are hopes, the bloom of whose beauty would be spoiled by the trammels of description: too lovely, too delicate, too sacred for words, they should be only known through the sympathy of hearts. A FLY may sting a noble horse, and make it wince; but one is but an insect, and the other is a horse still. Books are the mind incarnate-the immortality of the life that is. VIRTUE is made for difficulties, and grows stronger and brighter for such trials. PAIN soonest vanishes when participated :-Water, which when confined in one reservoir, will continue a long time without evaporating, soon dries up on being dispersed. A GREAT deal of pride obscures or blemishes a thou sand good qualities. EXCELLENCE is providentially placed beyond the reach of indolence, that success may be the reward of industry, and that idleness may be punished with obscurity and disgrace. FEAR must yield to happiness, or happiness to fear. When a man has nothing more to love, then he embraces the sepulchral monument of his love, and grief becomes the object of his affections. VICTORY ever inclines to him who contends the least. Ir we lay our leaf-gold upon touchwood, we must not feel surprised to see it crumble away under our fingers. A BEAU dressed out resembles the cinnamon tree,the bark is of greater value than the body. PHILOSOPHY is the drawing off of the mind from bodily things, to the contemplation of truth and virtue. AN idle brain is the devil's shop. STRANGE that a few hours of rest and oblivion should so change our mood. Without being an apologist for ill temper in any, may not the body have far more to do with the mood than many imagine? Else why, without any new pain or pleasure, or any other imaginable cause, is one happy this moment, miserable the next. EXISTENCE is only really valuable while it is necessary to some one dear to us. The moment we become aware "THE HOUSEHOLD WORDS OF KINDNESS." that our death would leave no aching void in a human The household words of kindness How they twine our beings round, True that the struggle yet must come, But canopied by those we love We know that kind words cheer us on, And faithtul hearts stand by To warn us where the quicksands spread, The household words of kindness They chase the threatening frown; ALBIN. heart, the charm of life is gone. THE poor man who patiently endures his want, is rich enough. As the sword of the best-tempered metal is most flexible, so the truly generous are most pliant and cour teous in their behaviour. ZEAL, without judgment, is like gunpowder in the hands of a child. MONEY got by gaming, is like a pyramid built of snow. As the pearl which is the object of universal admiration is produced by the disease of the oyster, so do many of the most illustrious actions originate in that mental discase-an overweening ambition. Printed and Published for the Proprietor, by JOHN OWEN CLARKE, of No. 9, Hemingford Terrace, East, in the Parish of St. Mary, Islington, in the County of Middlesex) at his Trinting Office, No. 3, Raquet Court, Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride, in the City of London, Saturday, December 15, 1849. |