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THE EXAMINER.

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MISBZAANy.

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THE DROWNED. “ Jn the midst of life we are in death.”

On the Bar of St. Peter, where the loud roaring billows Heaved their foam-crested tops with the tempests that rave The stranger ‘lies buried; there no sweet drooping wil- lows Wit point out the spot—'tis a chill watery grave Far, far from his home. ‘he Btorm may grow louder, Heaven’s powers may be shaken, He heeds not, he hears not, he’s free from all pain: He sleeps his last sleep, from earth’s scenes he was taken, Al! no sound can awake him to action again! Then rest, Jone stranger, rest, Tho’ by weeds and sea-sand prest,' Thou wilt not sleep forever "Mid the depths of the sea!

But hark ! there’s a voice which yet speaks of another ; He, too, lies enshrouded ‘mid the billows that rave ; Ott the breezes of even bear the lone sighs of a mother,

When she thinks of his fate, a cold, tide-beaten grave, In sight of his home. The sea-storm may rage, Heaven’s powers may be shaken, He heeds not, he hears not, he’s free from all pain : He sleeps his last sleep, from earth’s scenes he was taken, Ah! no sound can awake him to action again. Then rest, wept one, rest, Tho’ by weeds and sea-sand prest, Thou wilt not sleep forever *Mid the depths of the sea,

‘Thus closes the tale—Death fells man in his glory; To-day “all is well,” we rejoice with a smile; ‘To-morrow, alas, brings a heart-rending story, And ’tis then we see plainly how hopes oft beguile, And leave a sad wreck to remember. The storm may grow louder, Heayen’s powers may be shaken ; They hear not, they heed not—they’re free from all in: They sleep their last sleep, from earth’s scenes they were taken, Ah, no sound can awake them to action again. Then rest, lone sleepers, rest— ‘Tho’ by weeds and sea-sand prest, Ye shall not sleep forever, *Mid the depths of the sea! St. Peter’s Bay, 1848. J.M. K.

A CLERGYMAN DONE FOR.

The boat from Albany landed on the pier, last Tues- day morning, an innocent unsophistical clergyman from the Western partofthe state, who had neyer been in this city before, and of course, knew nothing of the vicious habits of the ‘elephant.’ The clergyman stood on the pier with his carpet bagin his hand, anda wondrous expression on his mild countenance, when he = espied by a Jehu, who was on the look out fora

are.

‘Coach, sir? says Jehu, touching his hat respect- fully, and looking demurely,

‘Yes, my friend, the clergyman replied, waking from his reverie. ‘{ do want a coach,’

‘All right sir, come this way,’ and Jehu seized the carpet bag to which its owner clyng and was dragged through the crowd to a rickety ald machine, which the driver called a coach.

‘Where to, sir,’ said Jehu. ‘To any respectable public hause—I am a stranger 1ere.

‘Pil carry you tothe best one in town—the hotel where rooms have been taken for the King of France.’

‘Bless me!’ exclaimed the clergyman ‘ is the ex-king of France coming over? I didn’t hear that.’

‘Expected next steamer, sir; he would have been here before only he waited to see if the Queen of England didn’t want to come along too.’

‘ Ah,’ said the clergyman, ‘ we liye in exciting times.

‘We don’t do anything else, sir, responded Jehu, as he jumped on the box and applied the whip to his mise- rable nags.

To what den of thieves the rascally coachman carried our country friend we cannot say, since the victim was unable to deseribe the place or its locality to the police. But it was opposite a dirty looking building, that he was put down by the driver, who then demanded three dollars fare.

‘Three dollars ? exclaimed the good clergyman ‘why a neighbour of mine said that the rates were fixed by jaw, and that | would have to pay only three shillings to ride a mile in the city.’ r

‘Od, that was before the news of the I’rench revolu- tion came; wages have riz since then, and the law now is for every man to get as much as he can, and k he gets, and we goin for that law—we do,’

* But my friend, if I had known that you would have rharged me so much, I would have walked.’

eep all

By this time, according to the glergyman’s account, the knave must have been tired fooling with his victim, for he answered saucily—

‘I can’t stop to talk with you, pay me my three dol- lars and let me go.’

The country gentleman, unsuspicious an hour before of such tricks, yet felt that he was being cheated, and mildly declined to pay the money.

‘Then you must go before a magistrate,’ cried Jehu in a rage,

‘Willingly, and if the magistrate says your charge is right I will pay it’

‘Better pay it now and save the costs of court.’

‘The costs of court! will the justice of the peace charge anything for answering a single question 7”

‘A single question! if you goto law with me we'll have a regular trial according to the new institution, I’!] have a jury of twelve men, if they can be got, or six any how,’ answered the hackman.

The clergyman attempted to compromise with the Jehu but a new idea had entered into the rascal’s head, and he now not only demanded three dollars fare, but extra pay for the delay. The victim concluded to see the magistrate, and re-entered the hack and was driven off—where, he could not tell; but his description of the scene that followed is ludicrous enough.

‘I was introduced to the magistrate, who shook hands

the charge, and shook his head when told I would not pay three dollars for riding from the steamboat to the hotel. I asked him if the charge was just? He said that the new law was not clear to his apprehension, and that a jury must decide the matter; and he thanked God that under the new constitution, the jury were judges of the law and the fact, and didn’t care a d—n for ail the benches of the Supreme Court, then he walk- ed away with the driver, and told me that I must con- sider myself a prisoner until the case was adjudicated. I asked him for my carpet bag. He said that the new law did not allow a prisoner to have a carpet bag ora trunk until the chief of police had exainined into the contents, and he asked me for the key to send to the chief’s office, which I gave him. I waited for more than an hour before the jury was impannelled; when the trial began, the magistrate asked me if I had coun- sel? I replied no: upon whieh he said that the court would assign me counsel, and ared faced man who stood in the doorway was told to take charge of my case. The hackman then told his story very briefly. Then I was put upon the stand and questioned and cross-questioned for two hours. I was obliged to state where I came from, how old 1 was, the state of my wife’s health, how many children I had, if my congre- gation was large, what salary I had, and whether it was paid monthly or quarterly, whether there had been a revival in the neighbourhood during the year, what was my opinion of the ship fever, if there had been any cages of small-pox in my town, and if all the children had been vaccinated, what works on natural history I had read, and whetherI had seenthe elephant? ‘To each of these questions my counsel loudly protested, and offered to show from the new constitution that I cquid not be compelled to answer them. But I told him [ would much rather answer them at once, than to lose time in discussing.

Finally the case was given to the jury, after a very long charge from the judge, in which he said whatever might be their verdict, they must remember that I was a clergyman who had heretofore borne an excellent character, and that I was entitled to the benefit of a doubt, if there was such athing in the matter, which he felt obliged to say he doubted. However, he refer- red them to the new constitution, and ‘the whole duty of man,’ an excellent work as | knew, and then sent them out for consultation.

It was afternoon when the jury came in with a verdict to the plaintiff. The judge ciphered on aslate fora few minutes, and then told me to pay three dollars to the coachman, eleven dollars costs of court, and three dollars counse) fee. My counsel said I could appeal if [ would lodge one hundred dollars with the court as se- curity that I would carry the case up. But I preferred to pay the seventeen dollars, especially as [ hadn’t the hundred dollars to lodge as security. 1 was then allow- ed to depart, the Court giving me an order on the chief of police for my carpet bag.

This was the story of the country clergyman, related with child like simplicity at the-chief’s office, where he presented the order for his bag, and was imformed that he had been grossly imposed upon. The knaves into whose hands he had fallen had amused themselves for nearly an entire day with their victim, before they plucked him.—.New York Despatch.

Newspapers.—Most people think the selection of suitable matter for a newspaper the easiest part of the business. How great an error! it is by all means the most difficult. T'o look over and over hundreds of ex- change papers every week, from which to select enough for one, especially whenthe question is, not what shall, but what shall not be selected, is no easy task. If every person who reads a newspaper could have edited

‘’ faint safe for strangers to walk in the city, ten to ope they'll meet the elephant," rb

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papers for something interesting, and can absolutely ‘find nothing; and yet something must be had—his pa-

e?

with me, asked the hackman what was the nature of

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best he can. ‘To an editor who has the least care about what he selects, the writing that he does is the easiest part of his labour. A paper when completed, should be one that the editor should be willing to read aloud to his wife, his mother, his sister, or his daughter; and if he do that, if he get out such a paper, he will find his labour a most difficult one. Every subscriber thinks the paper is printed for his special benefit, and if there is nothing in it that suits him it must be stopped--it is good for nothing. Some people look over the deaths and marriages, and actually complain of the editor if but few people in his vicinity have been so fortunate as to get married the previous week, or so unfortunate as todie! An editor should have such things in his paper, whether they occur or not. Just as many sub- scribers as an editor may have, so many different tasteg he has to consult. One wants stories and poetry; another abhors all this. The politician wants nothing but politics, One must have something smart, another something sound. One likes anecdotes, fun, frolic, and the next door neighbour wonders that 2 man of sense will put such stuff ina paper. We only wish that every man, woman, and child, who reads a paper, were compelled but for one single month to edit one. They would then find it is not quite so easya matter as they suppose.—Liverpool Mercury.

Famiuirs or Lirerary Men.—With the exception of the noble Surrey, we cannot point out a representa- tive inthe male line of any English poet. The blood of beings of that order can be seldom traced far down, even in the female line. There is no English poet prior to the middle of the eighteenth century. Chau- cer’s only son died childless; Shakespeare’s line ex- pired in his daughter’s only daughter. None ofthe other dramatists of that age had any ; neither had Raleigh, Bacon, nor Cowley, nor Butler.—The granddaughter of Milton was the last of hisblood. Newton, Locke, Pope, Arbuthnot, Swift, Hume, Gibbon, Cowper, Gray, Wal- pole, Cavendish (we might easily extend the list,) never married. Neither Bolingbroke, nor Addison, nor War- burton, nor Johnson, nor Burke, transinitted their blood. — Morning Post.

Why is the letter K like a pig’s tail? Because it’a the end of pork.

‘Why do you set your cup of coffee on the chair, Mr. James 2’ said a worthy landlady one morning at break- fast, ‘It is so very weak me’am,’ replied Mr. J.,‘I thought I would let it rest.’

An excellent clergyman, possessing much knowledge of human nature, instructed his large family of daugh- ters in the theory and practice of music. They were all observed to be exceedingly amiable and happy. A friend required if there was any secret in his mode of education. He replied, ‘When anything disturbs their temper, I say to them ‘Sing; and if I hear them speak against any person, I call them to sing to me; and so they have sung away all causes of discontent, and every disposition to scandal.’—.Mrs. Sigourney.

Common sense is the most uncommon of al] senses:,

Why should a tee-totaller never have a wife? Because he will not sup-porter. ,

Corpulent persons, desiring to regain their shape, should apply to some newspaper establishment for the oftice of collector.

The grave has been defined to be an ugly hole in the ground which Jovers and poets wish they were in, but take uncommon care too keep out of.

Legislative Council Chamber, May 3, 1848.

ESOLVED, That the Bill intituled “ An Act to re-

gulate the Currency of Prince Edward Island,” as suggested to be amended by this House, be published once in each af the Newspapers printed in Charlotte- town, and that 'wo Hundred copies thereof be printed for distribution.

CHARLES DESBRISAY, D. C. L. €.

AN ACT to regulate the Currency of Prince Ed- ward {fsland.

AJHEREAS it is deemed expedient that certain

Coins now in circulation in this Island should have their respective values or rates at which they shall pass current, and be a legal] tender defined by Law, and also that provision should be made for rendering T'rea- sury Notes also a Jegal tender, and to provide for a fur- ther issue of Treasury Notes, and for providing for the payment of such Notes in Specie on demand: Be it therefore enacted by the Lieutenant Governor, Council, and Assembly, That on and from and after the publice- tion in the Royal Gazette of this Island, of Her Majes- ty’s assent to this Bill, the British Gold Coin called Sovereign, being of full weight, and the Foreign Gold Coin called a Doubloon, being of not less weight than Four hundred and fifteen Grains, and the Gold Coin ot the United States of America, called an Eagle, being of not less weight than Two Hundred and fifty-eight

it, we should hear less complaints. Not unfrequently| is it the case that an editor looks over all bis exchange!

Grains, shall and may respectively be received, paid. and legally tendered to the ‘Treasurer of this Island, or other Public Officers, or by or to any Body Politic, o1 Corporate, person or persons whomsoever, in payment, satisfaction, or discharge of any Debts, sums of Money,

per must come out with something in it, and he does the|duties, obligations, liabiliues, or demancs shatsogye},