The Principality

THE UNITED STATES. The New York Courier states that it >as received inform- ation that the treaty is not only ratified and the ratifications exchanged, bat that several detachments of the United States £ ,rmy returning from Mexico had already reached the States. The last papers from Honolulu, the capital ef the Sand- wich Islands, predict an approaching revulsion in commercial matters from the constant importation of manufactured goods, the returns for which are principally made in specie, the pre luce of the islands, owing to the neglect. of agriculture not admitting of a proportionate export trade.

A RQLAND FOR AN OLIVEH..—The Marquis of Waterford and some friends one day took their places in the fourth-class car riage of a railway. To punish such doings, the railway peo- ple hired a couple of sweeps, all covered with soot, and put them in beside them. At the nest station the marquis bought first-class tickets for the sweeps, and put them in to adorn thi silk and leather covered seats. Liverj)ool, Albion. FOULS. THOUSAND Gntus AT A PIC-iNic.-The Lowell Couriei-, has an account of the grand pic-nic, which was given by tin managers of the Lowell Carpet Mill in that city, to the girls in Jtkeir employ. The hall occupied on the occasion was in the p new mill just erected by the company, and is to be filled wit power looms for the manufacture of carpets. It is 232 feet long, and 138 wide; was ornamented with the fabrics of the mill, and lighted with 303 or 400 lamps. The number i girls present was estimated at 4,000. Refreshments in abun- dance were provided for all tIe company, and the remnants were. to be distributed to the poc r. Two bands of music were in attendance, for the benefit of hose who had a l'ancv for danc-r ing. The conversation of the prrty is rep -esented to have been extremely animated. Who can doubt it ?

ITaiieties. THE graduates of the University of London are agitating for a representative in Parliament. THE total amount of railway calls during this month is nearly four millions sterling. JunGE Marshall of Nova Scotia has lectured on Temperance at Carnarvon during last week. CONNECTED with the Manchester Sunday-school Union there are 9,001 children and 954 teachers. THERE is no truth in the report of a sum of money having been bequeathed to Lord Brougham by Mr. Watt. b MR. C. P. BOUSFIELD. citizen and weaver, and Mr. J. R. Mill- citizen and fishmonger, have been elected sheriffs of London and MidcLsex. IN New York there are 215 churches or chapels, whilst about the same population in Manchester and its neighbour- hood has only 139. On Wednesday e"-4 "G, 'a dinner was given by the constitu- en's of Marylebone to Sir B. Hall and Lord Dudley Stuart. Mr. J. Williams presided. WE (Glasgow Examiner) observe *>. 0. ■ ■ beggarly ac- count of empty sittings in our city ciua- :u. -There are still above 7,00') sittings unlet, while there are only 5,378 let. THE Noncrxformist observes: Probably we do not err in saying that there is no one more lightly esteemed in the Es- tablishment, and more beloved out of it, than the Hon id Rev. Baptist Noel." COAL.-The Newcastle coal formation contains 5,575,680,000 cubic yards, extending in length 23 miles ;-28,000,000 tons of coal are annually raised, being 31,000,000 of cubic yards.— The Trades Weekly Messenger. THE Standard of Freedom, conducted by John Cassell, Esq., made its appearance on. Saturday week. It is a newspaper of great promise, and we have no doubt of its speedy and com- plete success. In arrangement and completeness it far sur- passes any paper we have yet seen. "WEST Teignmonth," remarks the Western Times, "is still the scene of Puseyite desolation a blight seems to have gone over the pews, nothing seems to thrive but the altar, which is overloaded with vases, and has all the appearance of a sale shop for the gatherings of Roman antiquities." "FOR the first time," says the Nonconformist, "the planto- cracy pity the descendants of Africa Doubtless they did so in bygone dnys; but then t:> They never told their love; But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Prey on their sallow cheek.' THE UNKTNDEST CUT OF ALL.—It seems that the Rev. Henry Griffiths, of Brecon College, has addressed copies of his letter, which appeared in our last, to every newspaper in Wales. In common with others, the Editor of the JSorth rVa 'es Chronicle received a copy, upon which he remarks, However wishful t.o gratify the Rev. H. Griiiiths s desire for publicity, it is really not in our power to keep pace with the rev. gentleman's volumi- nous correspondence. Ought not the Vicar of Aberdare be con- tent with his empire in the South, nor seek to grasp both hemi- pheres r" It was bad enough to refuse insertion to the pon- derous manifesto but to confound the Out-and-out Dis- senter" with the \'icar of Aberdare beats anything we have ever seen. SJCIAL IMPORTANCE OF THE WORKING CLASS.—The three elements of the resources of the great commonwealth are la- bour, intelligence, and e ipital the last is gathered and ad- ministered by the wealthy the second is contributed by the gifted and studious but th t first great contribution of endless toil is supplied by the working classes. There are they in your j fields and your mines, your factories and your ships, your ware- houses and your workshops, giving an amount of manual and physical :;effort which no nature, no paticnce but that of men bred to labour, could sustain. Hardly less consumers than producers, they form that great elastic power in the community which endures privation and adjusts demand and supply. Amidst scarcity and high prices, their unavoidable privations diminish consumption and amidst plenty and cheapness, their increased enjoyments restore the remuneration of capital and the profits of trade. In national policy their judgment, once enlightened, would have immense force and equal value-their voice, raised in favour of religion, peace, rational liberty, and just Government, would be irresistible. These multitudes, once eiilialitened and virtuous, would render the social fabric immovably secure and peaceful.—A. WELLS. WAII.-War, pestilence, and famine, by the common consent of mankind, arc the three greatest calamities which can befal our soecies and war, as the most direful, justly stands fore- most and in front. Pestilence and famine, no doubt for wise, although inscrutable purposes, are inflictions of Providence, to which it is our duty therefore to bow with obed e ice, humble submission, and resignation. Their duration is notlo ;g, and their ravages are limited. They bring, indeed, great affLctiûn while they last, but society soon recovers from the effects. War is the voluntary work of our own hands, and wh tev r repr la -lies it mav deserve, should be directed to ourselve W..en it breaks out its duration is n 'elinite ;.nd unknown—its vicissi- tudes are hidden from our view. In the sac-3 idee of human life, and in the waste of hum in tre '.sure, in its 1 jsses and i 1 its burdens, t affe ts both be ligerent nations, and it-; sad effects o' margle I bodies, of (le-ith, and of desolation, endure long after its thunders are hushed in pease. War unhinges society, disturbs i, peaceful and regular indestry, and so tt-,IS poison- 0 ts s ds of dis ase and im norality, which c ntinue to germi- nate nd tiffusetheir bai-eful "iifl ieiiee long a ter :t has ceased. D.i. z. ng by its glitter, pomp, and p geantry, it begets a spii it of Wild i-dvjnture and romantic enterprise, and often disqualifies the e wh) embark in it, aatr t lCir retu 11 from the bloody fie ds of batt e, from eng ging in the industrious and peaceful vocations of life.—[From a s. eech by Hen y Clay oa the Mexican war, at a meeting in L xi lgton, Ive; tacky.] How THE MONEY GOES.—-We are paying thou-an:1s a-year to the des( e idants of the d mireps and Moll Flagon > who i f s ed and po 1 ited the court ot Charles II. Is that rig, t.- We re also paying- for the immoralities of William IV. Is that right? We have been paying £ 2,000 a-year, ever tin-e 1798, to di ■ Prince of Mecklenberg Streliiz. What are his claims upon England? What did he ever do for his money ? We are pay- in" a little, but a little too much, for the peccadilloes of the late Duke of Sussex. And who is Augusta Arbuthnot that we should even pay her £ 100 a-year ? Or Arabella Bouverie, that she should have £ 300 ? Or Augusta Jkudenell, who g.ts E202 and why the odd two? We have been paying £ 104 per annum to the Hon. G. A. F. Smythe ever since he was ten years old. What had he done for his country at those tender years, and what has he done since? Myles O'Reilly has £ 222 during the life of Helena White, granted by George IV, Why was it not granted for his own life? And who is Helena White? Some Schomberg, a Dutchman, gets £2,880 a-year because he is lucky enough to be the great-great-great nephew of a soldier of fortune who was killed, when fighting for Wil- liam III., 160 years since. And thousands, ai-id tens of tliou, sands, and hundreds of thousands are regularly thrown away year by year, in other abuses of the same kind.-Liverpool A'bion, A THICK PLAYED ON LOKI> Btouaifk-f, -It is but rarely that, the House of Lords is made the arena for the pe petration of practical jokes. On Thursday night, however, some nolle lo d (who, for the present at least, is as unknown as the author of Junius), unbending for a moment from the austere severity which the world supposes to be inseparable from the British senator maliciously attempted to raise a laugh at the ex- pense of a noble and learned lord, an ex-cha^cellor, by pla.ing a new broom—a veritable brush—in the place usu- ally occupied by that distinguished luminary of the law, Henry Lord Brougham. On the encyclopedic peer taking his seat, he found himself, if not sitting oa- thorns, at least sitting on something equally unpleasant and, on looking down for the cause of his dis-ease, found an alter ego-—a hairy broom-~ staring him in the face. At first he glowered at it as if it were a goblin g«i<n » then he took it up, and. peering curiously .at it as at some strange instrujjient of torture, examined it carefully from end to end, and lastly deposited it on a back bench, all around at first looking as solemn as mutes at a, funeral, lest they should be suspected as the originators of this atiioqous outrage, and then bursting into a general laugh at the perplexity of the noble and leuriied jlord,-—

POLAND. UNEXAMPLED BRUTALITY OF THE PRUSSIAN TROOPS. The village of Steffipuehow, in the district of Wongrowier, %eleftging to M. Moszizenski, has been three times searched for arms by the Prussian soldiery. They plundered the house of the proprietor, fired after the flying villagers, .1 ZD Z, flogged several among them, carried off whatever they thought worth anything$and. when they had nothing more to take, they seized s>. girl of seventeen years, Marianne Tagodzinska; fJUr among them held her down, whilst seven others vio- lated her person. After this unheard-of act of brutality an officer came up, and seeing the girl covered with blood, he offered her—in order to pacify her—a dollar, which she flung back with indignation. The poor girl is now lying in a most precarious state. Daring the search, for arms the corpses of the proprietor's ancestors were flung out of their family grave. The above was sworn to by two eye-witnesses, Josepha Gulewig and. Andrew-Lipinski, and the person communicat- ing this to the Gazeta Polska (June 23), offers to prove the n facts before any court of law.

RUSSIA. The Allgcmoine Zcitimg of the 2nd has a long and most formidable account military preparations now going ,I forward in Riga. The army, it appears, is fully equipped for war, and the equipments continue daily. The walls of the fortress bristle with cannon, and the troops have received, orders to hold themselves in readiness to march at a mo-; meat's notice. All those absent on leave have been recalled. The destination of this force is said to he Poland and the German frontiers." The generals, officers, and soldiers, ardently desire to measure their strength with the French: and the Germans.

APPLICATION OF MANURES. In the present mode of bringing manures in contact with the soil, the two substances lie in masses of greater 01 less magnitude and when the aggregations are pulverised and comminuted, they still lie separate, and the exterior surfaces are the only parts that come in contact. This application is against the fixed law of chemistry, that bodies must be in a very finely reduced state, and be opposed to each other at insensible distances, or no reciprocal action can take place, and consequently no combinations or dissolutions will ensue. And hence when farm-yard dung is laid into drills in the form of lumps or masses, or is ploughed broadcast into the land, the pulverised soil comes into contact only with the exterior surface, and can derive no benefit from the interior parts that are removed from action. And, further, the growing plants are benefited only by the reciprocal action of the substances of which the manure is composed, without any assistance from the soil in combination. These reflections arise from the common mode of applying manures, and of the chemical notions of the reciprocal actions of bodies. Dissolution of bodies takes place in consequence of different electrical states, and may be altered and modified by many necessary and contingent circumstances. Chemists are at present occupied in relating the constituents of manures and of the plants that are produced—which is wholly useless: for the certainty is knows, that substances that are applied as manures do not pass unaltered into plants, and become the same substance in the constitution of the vegetable. Animals and vegetables supply themselves with the necessary elements from diifereiit food by some process of organic actions, of which we may remain for ever ignorant. The object of chemistry should be to investigate and ex- plain the relative actions of bodies on eich other, and th results of the combinations and dissoluiious. The bare knowledge of constituent elements leads to no useful practice, and without that essential result accessory science is a mere nullity. J. D.

RAISING TURNIPS ON CLAY LANDS. The aluminous base of clay imbibes fifteen times its own weight of water, and retains it with great obstinacy. The cold cements the particles of soil, and denies the admission of caloric, which would dissever the atoms, and render the land porous and permeable. The viscous tenacity that is thus produced is altogether invincible, and defies the reduc- :ion of the soil to the necessary fineness of tilth for the grow- ing of turnips. The land lies in clods that are beyond the power of being penetrated by the tender roots of young plants, and the vacancies between the clods are open to the drought, which kills all vegetation. During my frequent visits to the Royal Farms at Windsor, that are under the management of Major-General Wemyss, I was much struck with the methods of raising turnips on these farms. Sowing on the flat surface is preferred to the drill system, as it does not expose the land to drought and evaporation during the processes of being formed into ridge- lets and reversed to cover the dung, and the flat surface keeps moisture better than the raised drills. The turnip lands at Windsor are wrought by ploughing, harrowing, and rolling, 11 d 1. I in the usual way; the dung is laid down and spread broad- cast, and the land is ploughed into ridges of twelve or four- teen feet. On these ridges the turnips are sown in rows, by the corn drill. The seuliling of the intervals and the hoeing of the rows are done in the usual way. On the stiff lands on which turnips are grown, but which are not properly turnip-soils, the land is wrought as fine as possible in the usual way, and the dung spread upon it in broadcast. It is then gathered up into ridges of six or eight feet, harrowed, and the turnips sown In three or four rows on a ridge. This method does not expose the land to drought and the loss of moisture. A corollary of some importance may be drawn from this very successful practice of Gen. Wemyss. The growing of I turnips on pared and burnt lands, where the seed is sown on the unploughed surface that is covered by the ashes spread upon It, shows that the tap-root of the turnip does not require a depth of pulverised soil below it, in order to favour or allow its descent, and that the encouragement which the plant receives at the surface of the earth will induce the downward pro- gress. HonCe, if clay lands be pulverised at the top, and the j manure there applied, the tap-root will go downwards, and; 1 the bulb will be formed. Clay lands may be wrought in the usual way as finely as p,-)s,iible-spy to the middle of June; the dung may then be laid d'nvn and s-jwii in broadcast, and the laud then gathered up by one ploughing into ridges of six feet. The surface may then be harrowed fine by means of harrows attached to a inaintree stretching over the ridge, and drawn by horses walkin"- in the furrows. The turnip-seed may then be sown in three rows, by means of a sower constructed for the pur- puse. The scuffling of the intervals, and the hoeing of the' ruws, may be done in the usual way and as these wet lands ruws, may be done in the usual way and as these wet lands do not admit sheep to feed OIl the ground in winter, and bein'j- too soft to allow carts to carry away the turnips, horses with creels on their backs may walk in the furrows, and carry home the roots in the hampers, or into carts at the gate-way. This method may prove very useful, after clay lands are drained. Every vegetable is best in quality that is raised on clay soils any farmer is aware of this fact. As 1 observed in a former paper, Some easier process must exist, than the pre- sent very laborious and costly modes of raisiug the fruits of the earth." J. D.

35cclcstajsttcal nilp. r- A MULTITUDE OF CHAPLAINS.—Prince Albert has now got five chiplain: the fifth having been just gazetted. We pre- sume th ;t he has one to each separate capacity—as Fiold-mar- sluiC Ch mcellor of the Duchy of Cornwall, Chancellor of Cam- bridge, Governor of Windsor Castle, &c„—all of them with separate functions, and all of them with separate salaries.— tfotfiw/ham Review. KNUOWMEN'T OF THE CATHOLIC CLERGY.—lt is said that, 0 -vin»- to the conduct pursued by many of the Irish Roman Ca- tholic prelates in reg rd to the question of repeal, and espe- cially in. allying themselves with the Young Ireland party, Government has taken into serious contemplation the long talked of measure of connecting the Roman Catholic clergy with the State by an endowment. The only obstacle to the proposal of an immediate adoption of such a measure is said to consist in the unsettled condition of the Papal power, and the consequent of ohtailling a firm basis for any agree- ment that might be made between the contracting parties.— Hants Independent. RICIIES THE "BISHOPS' -BAKE.—I will holdly assert, without fear of contradiction, even from any priest, if he be an honest man, that the majority of the bishops of the Church of England always are persons whose main object is to amass wealth and aggrandise their families. This is ^notorious fact; and in- deed, nothing but a constant standing miracle could prevent it from being so. For when every temptation is held out to our prelates to indulge any of their evil propensities, not only with impunity, but applause, and when they find a castle of servile people in the land, who admire the prelates, whether they are ■avaricious, luxurious, indolent, haughty, ignorant, rich, or useless—garhen the largest fortunes and most splendid dignities are liberally thrust into their bosoms—how could it be other- wise, as bag as human nature is as it is, than thit our bishops should be generally corrupt and fail short of the Christian rule ? -Let, er to the Archbishop of York.—BUVEHLEY. CLERICAL CONSISTENCY.—The following letter was written, as your readers will perceive,, in May last, in order to satisfy the scruples of the clerical conscience of its reverend author. 3eyond doubt the writer is perfectly correct Living or dead, Dissenters have p.o right to the ceremonies of the Church. They are intended for its members, and not for those who se- parate themselves from its communion. May all Dissenters ?eel the deserved rebuke administered to them, and may all clergymen act like the Rev. Hinds Howell Bride.^towe Rectory, May 20, 1843. "Sir, Mr. Shopland having applied to me to bury a child of yours, on inquiry, I fitid it has not been baptised at Church; while, hen, I protest most solemnly against being called on to red the jurial service of the Church over one who has never belonged to that Church; wlyle, then, I appeal to you on these grounds as a' professing Christian not to ask me to do what >u, under similar circumstances, wuld consider a grievous hardship I am forced ,0 add, that, as the law of the land at present stands, I must bury your child, if you are able to declare that the child lias, been baptised' in .forn^ and manner j-equired, f eaplose some ques- tions, to which I request answers in full, and that you will affixt your name to such answers. I use the word I baptised above bu I, for my part, do not acknowledge such baptism (as I understand your child has received) to be lawful according to Christ's ap- pointment. You, of course, must be well aware that I have no personal unkind feeling towards you or any other Dissenter in my parish; but in this, and such like cases, I must raise my voice against their most inconsistent practice of first separating from the Church, despising that Church throug h their lives, often malign- ing her ministers, and then demanding as a right the performance of one of her most foleinn rites.—I am, sir, youis faithfully, To Captain Stephens. HINDS HOWELL." The following are the questions :— First Question.—Who baptised your child ? Second.-Wlio was present? Third.—With what matter was it baptisecl ? "Fourth.—With what words?"

(Selected for the PRINCIPALITY.") THE DYING MOTHER TO HER INFANT. My baby! my poor little one thou'st come a winter flower. 'n A pale and tender blossom in a cold, unkindly hour Thou comest with the snowdrop—and like that pretty thing, The power that called my bud to life will shield its blossoming. The snowdrop hath no guardian leaves to fold her safe and WOT, Yet well she bides the bitter blast, and weathers out the storm I shall not long enfold thee thus—not long but well I knew' The everlasting arms, my babe, will never let thee go The snowdrop-how it haunts me still !-Iiaiigs down herfairyoung head, J e So thine may droop in days to come, when I have long been dead And yet the little snowdrop's safe from her instrucrion seek, For who would crush the motherless, the lowly and the meek Yet motherless thou'lt not be long—not long in name, my life Thy father soon will bring him ho.ne another fairer wife j Be loving, dutiful, to her find favour in her sight; But never, oh my child forget thine own poor mother quite, But who will speak to thee of her ? the grave-stone at her head Will only tell the name and age and lineage of the dead But not a word of all the love—the mighty love for thee, That crowded years into an hour of brief maternity. They'll put my picture from its place, to fix another there— 1 hat picture that was thought so like, and yet so passing fair! Some chamber in thy father's house they'd let thee call thine own Oh take it there to look upon, when thou art all alone To breathe thine early griefs unto—if such assail my child lo turn to, from less loving looks, from faces not so mild. Alas, unconscious little one tliou'lt never know the best" The holiest home of all the earth, a living mother's breast! I do repent me now too late, of each impatient thought, That would not let me tarry out God's leisure as I ou<dit ■ I ve been too hasty, peevish, proud—I longed to go away And now I'd fain live on for thee, God will not let me stay. Thou'lt have thy father's eyes, my child Oh, once now kir.d thfjJ were! "•■' His long, black lashes—his own smile, and just such raven hair.* But here's a mark-poor innocent-he'll love thee for't the Jess Like that upon thy mother's cheek, his lips were wont to prcs. And yet perhaps I do him wrong—perhaps when all's forgot But our young loves, in memory's mood,—he'd kiss this very slwt. Oil, then, my dearest! clasp thine arm about his neck full fast And whisper that I blessed him now, and loved him to the last. I've^heard that little infants converse by smiles and sio-ns, With the guardian band of angels that round about them' shines Unseen by grosser seiises-beloveci one dost thou Smile so upon thy heavenly friends, and commune with them new.- ? Oh, when I think of what I was, and what I might have been A bride last year, and now to die and 1 am scarce nineteen And just, just opeuing in my heart a fount of love so new, too deep could that have run to waste ? could that have failed 1 t too ? The bliss it would have been to see my daughter at my side, My prime of life scarce overblown, and hers in all its pride To deck her with my fairest things—with all I've rich and "rare To hear it said, How beautiful, and good as she is fair And then to place the marriage crown upon that bright voim bro w Oh, no not that—'tis full of thorns alas, I'm wanderine°nyw This weak, weak heart! this foolish heart! they'll cheat me to tire last, I've been a dreamer all my life, and now that life is past. And hast thou not oe look for me ? those little restless eves Are wandering, wandering everywhere, the while thy mother dies- And yet, perhaps, thou'rt seeking me, expecting me, mine own Come death, and make me to my child at least in spirit known!

A REFLECTION AT SEA. SEE how beneath the 8 smile Yon little billow Reaves its breast, And foams and sparkles for awhile, And murmuring then subsides to rest. Thus man, the sport of bliss and care, Itises on time's eventful sea And having swcll'd a moment there, Thus melts into eternity THOUGHTS, HAST thou seen with flash incessant Bubbles gliding under ice. Bodied forth and evanescent, No one knows by what device ? Such are thoughts j-a windswept meadow Mimicking a troubled sea Such is life ;—and death a shadow From the rock eternity.! VIRTUE AND VICE.—Vice is infamous, though in a prince* and virtue honourable, though in a peasant.-ADDl;ON.. PASTIME.—He that follows his recreation instead of his business, shall in a little time have no business to follow. SiicajscY.—What is mine, even to my life, is her's I lover but the secret of ray friend is not mine.—Sm P.. Su>Nj-:y. IT is sorrow that makes our experience—we must feel deenly before we think rightly. NOTHING shows a kind heart more than sparing the feclin of those who are conscious lit their inferiority,. & IN the uncertain changing scenes of life, trivial events fre- quently become the heralds of the most important revolutions How much ill might be avoided, if men never repeated aught that they had heard without first considering their immediate right to do so, and the ultimate .consequences which so doiiis might produce. s NOTHINO is more agonisiijg than suspense—the torturing vibration. between hope and fear. The certainty-the actual infliction of the dreaned evil-is a comparative relief.; even as the mortification of the frame, which though certain death is hailed by the suffereras a re lief from his agony. IT is only when we have lost them for a time that we leari- to appreciate Heaven's gifts. The whole world is full of sweetS- that we taste not, till sickness teaches us that our very facili- ties arc jop, or unfinement makes us esteem the Wooing of Heaven's free air—the choicest blessing of existence, God has loaded us with bounties, and yet man, the spoiled child of the creation, whimpers for the toys he cannot gain. A CELIMIIA'IBD 1 rencli author has said, though vanity over- turn not the yirtues, it certainly makes them totter, Let not ther-, vanity any longer be ranked as a trifling error, which age will correct or a natural weakness, deserving of pity rather than censure. Ere time shall bring the antidote, vanity may have poured out its vial of miseries and the weakness we com- passionate, may lead to the vices we ;:b- .)r. PEACE. Peace is the chief good ora c unm. rciai, and indeed of every people. European nations, all the:l' improve- ments in civilisation, are still too near the savage state while they terminate their contests by war. Nothing but self-defect 2 can justify it; and if those who decree that it take plae\ under any circumstances but the necessity of self-defence' were compelled to go into the field in person, it is probable that national disputes would be settled by the interycnitinn ot neutral powers, and the sword converted into the plrmghsharc. To avoid war, the direst calamity of human nature, should be the chief object of every humane man, and wise minister. WHAT should be the end of all government ? CertaihI-v the happiness of the governed. Others may hold different ophi-kmft, but this is ours, and we proclaim it. The glorious cause of freedom-of independence is ours in this we have lived, and in this we will uie; it has borne us up under every aspersion to which our political character has been subjected. The 5e resentment of the mean, and the aversion of the great, the rancour of the vindictive, and the subtilty of the base' the dereliction of friends, and the efforts of enemies, have net 11 diverted us from that line of conduct which lias struck us as the best. As man was designed by his Creator for sodallHe, it is hi: duty to regulate the tenour of his thoughts and actions in the fittest manner for the fulfilment of its duties. He.jB-iart neither desert the world, nor forget that he is its temporary inhabitant and while he is. making a needful provision for his present probationary state, it is incumbent on him to prepare-likew ise for one that will be future and eternal. Our stations upon earth are now apparently assigned with much irreeubiritv and the features and business of mankind to he verv'ire qually divided. Still there is a circle of allotted duties, which if properly performed, would be found exactly proportioned to the faculties and strength of each individual; and if vr? consult t,he nature of our circumstances, and what exertione they require, we shall find that there is a sufficient time allotted us for every rational and pious purpose of present and futmw advantage,, but nothing over for the''demands of vice qr idleness- The inpst extended connexions of life can but be filled to a car- tain degree, and the most contracted situation has likewise V peculiar obligations, though the arrangement of its ,employ. | "nwnts must be different: just as a map, of the world does cr -face, contain the same sea and continents, with-the sarve divisionary lines, w hether it be taken on a larggy -or a-jwn&iler scale; and the tatter, may bec equally ..Y.. minutely delineated, • a*1! "• < • ;r

ment. The primary condition of this cessation of hostilities is. of course, the evacuation of Schleswig by the German forces; and we (Times) hate reason to believe that it has been agreed and conceded that they should withdraw from. both the Dutchies. The Swedish auxiliary army, which; had landed at Fuhnen, will return to the dominions of King 1 n Oscar and the contested territory of Sclileswig will remain neutral for the whole period of the armistice, or until such time as a definitive peace has been concluded. With refer- ence to the government of the Dutehies during this interval of time, and until the authority of their lawful sovereign j shall be fully re-established* it is provided that the local ad- ministration shall be confided to five persons, natives of the Dutchies, but who have held no office in the Provisional Government )f liendsburg, which is superseded. An ex- change of prisoners will, of course, take place, and the Danes 'have even consented to the restitution of the captured ves- sels taken into Copenhagen by their cruisers. This conven- tion, which is a mere cessation of hostilities, contains no provision for the Rnal adjustment of the matters in dispute between the Kino of Denmark and a portion of his German subjects.