ce^ U-BRAliY OF CONGRESS. m UNITED STATES OF AMEIU'CA 2^ mi (^ii^ rcj^r ^ccrr , S. fi eing ine- briated will come to the succor of their mas- ters. The Avriter remembers a spirited horse that no blows would drive to a quick pace when he felt his master reeling on his back. It was said that Dexter's doi^ would never leave his master's feet when he was at all intoxicated. What a satire on the presump- tion of man, who arrogates to himself to be lord of creation ! A rich man of eccentricities will always gather around him strange associates, and Dexter could boast of many such. Among those who early had an influence over him John P may be named. He was of a respectable family, from which at a ten- der age he became an outcast. He was a being possessed of high powers of taste, im- agination and invention. He had in the common paths of life gleaned something in the form of knowledge, and could make most dexterous use of it among the mass of mankind. He was a splendid chirographist, and this was then the great desideratum for a school-master, to which honor he aspired; 76 LIFE OF DEXTER. but with a discreet school committee his morals would not answer, notwithstanding their impressions of his genius and learning. Having been rejected as a candidate for one of the town schools, he opened a private one, and for a while attracted attention and had a respectable number of pupils. The writer of this memoir, then only nine years of age, was among them. John P • was a dare- devil in some things and a coward in others, a man of perpetual contradictions in his characteristics. Be gulled the world with pretensions to occult sciences, while he knew but little of any practical branch of know- ledge. He" set up claims to judicial astrolo- gy and cast nativities for those who were credulous enougii to believe in the science, and sometimes appeared a sincere believer in his own calculations. He said of him- self that he should never die until the sun was blotted out of the heavens, and, to fix the credulity of thousands, expired in a mis- era-ble mansion on the 16th of June, 1806, during the great and total eclipse of the sun on that day. He was stretched on his death- bed, so exhausted thg,t he could not raise himself without assistance to gaze on the phenomenon. Being supported by some one, and handed a piece of smoked glass to look at the sun, he reverted to his former prophe- cy, and at the moment of total darknesSj LIFE OF DEXTER. 11 when all nature around him seemed distress- ed, the chill of death came over him and he expired without a sigh. However natural may be such death, superstition never forgets such an instance, but treasures it up in the memory, and it has its influence for years to come, if not on the conduct,- certainly on the feelings of many. One of the freaks of this eccentric man was, as he called it, to test his pupils' pluck. One instance the writer can never forget. A blind preacher, by the name of Prince, died, and during his last moments requested to be buried in the tomb with the celebrated George Whitefield and the rever- end Jonathan Parsons. Whitefield had died in Newburyport, in 1770, and a vault was made for him under the first Presbyterian church in the town, and Parsons was laid by his side a few years afterwards. This was the only tomb under or near the build- ing. It was opened a day or two before the funeral of blind Prince, and hundreds visited it. " Whitefield and Parsons had been buried in their surplices and wigs, which remained, after so many years, tender, or nearly rotten, but entire. Every visiter stole a piece of the holy relics to carry away and preserve. At the close of the afternoon lessons the school-master and astrologer took a pupil to the vault and showed him the remains. The entrance was by a trap door in the broad- 78 • ' LIFE OF DEXTER* aisle of the meeting-house. A small lamp was glimmering over the sacred ashes of the two pious divines. The wicked teacher saw that the boy Avas in a profound reverie, and silently stole out of the tomb, and shutting the trap door, departed. The child heard the trap door close, and for an instant trem- bled at the thought of being alone in the charnel-house; but he instantly recovered himself, and stood composedly gazing on those who slept beneath. Can the departed spirits of good men injure children? was the question put to himself This was soon set- tled in his mind, and he taxed* his memory for all the anecdotes of them which he had heard from his pious mother, who had often listened to the orator Whitefield, during his arousing appeals to those who went on in life '' sleeping on the confines of eternity and walking unconcerned over the Itottomless pit.^'' The child of the tomb at that hour is still living, and has been frequently heard to say that he dates back to that period the reverence in which he ever holds the dead. How long he was there he could not say precisely, but it was the time the school- master took to go srome distance, and drink tea with the boy's mother. As the astrolo- ger finished his last cup, fie told the mother the position in which he had left her son to test his courage. The indignant woman LIFE OF DEXTER. Tft sent him immediately to the release of her child, desiring an elder boy to go with the monster, as she called him, to see that he went directly to the church. She was dis- turbed, but at once observed ''the boy will sustain himself, I know his character :" still the fondness and fearfulness of the mother lingered beneath the guise of the pious he- roine. When the prisoner returned not a word passed between him and his mother on the subject, and months elapsed before either alluded to the circumstance. Such was the man who for several years was the director of the mind of Dexter. He at once understood the calibre of the success- ful fool, and took the proper course to man- age him. The astrologer pretended to ini- tiate his patron into the occult arts and sci- ences, and exhibited his books of necroman- cy treating of Druidical rites and abounding in Runic characters. There can be no doubt that at the conclusion of the lessons both the master and pupil's information was nearly the same. The writer has the most vivid recollection of the astrologer and his school- house. Under a widely spreading elm of the first class, which probably had been spared by the early settler, on the south side of High street, between what are now State and South streets, in Newburyport, there was a small cottage containing one room ; So LIFE OF DEXTER* this was the school-room of master P— — — « His manners were familiar, his discipline lax, and his punishments few and not se- vere. He taught by conversation and lec- tures ; and so happy were his illustrations that his boys of ten years old were superior to those of other schools at fifteen. He had several maps and charts, and spent hours each day in showing his pupils the different parts of the globe. When geography was not a study in the common schools, his boys could chalk out a tolerable map on the floor and name the large cities and great rivers of different countries. He knew a smatter- ing of chemistry, and performed many ex- periments in natural philosophy; but, so little understood was the science of chemistry at that time, these experiments were called tricks. He had been taught some optical illusions, which excited wonder among his pupils. He would take them into the Avoods and fields and teach them the names of trees' and plants, and of the birds as they flew by. It was so much more delightful to go to master P * than to other schools, that no scholar that had been with him ever return- ed cheerfully to the other instructers. The rare books he possessed were sometimes shown to his favorite pupils, and he explain- ed their uses to them, laughing at the credu- lity of the world. He introduced athletic LIFE OF DEXTER. m sports and superintended them himself, which was a most scandalous affair to the other grave teachers. One of them went so far as to say that he had gone in a swimming with his boys and showed them how to acquire the art ! what gross impropriety, thought the dull teachers. The writer's memory has hardly lost a single occurrence of that mem- orable epoch; and on reviewing the man and his course, although he must confess that the extent of his knowledge of science was small, and there was a great deal of charla- tanry about him as a teacher, yet he pro- nounces him a man of extraordinary poAvers of mind, and one who more than any other had a forecast of what instruction should be. It is indeed a misfortune for a man to live before his age, or rather in advance of it.. After all, he lived with a good-sense people, and might have been respectable had he been less profligate in his habits, or more guarded in his conduct. He foolishly ridiculed what he called superstition, and satirized stupidity wherever he found it. He made himself hated by coining soubriquets for his neighbors that often had point and sarcasm in themj and too much truth to make a palatable joke of He took more pleasure in annoying dulness than in enlightening ignorance, and was never happier than when he could raise a laugh at any blockhead's expense. There ! 82 LIFE OF DEXTER. was no medium in any thing he did ; his generosity was prodigality, and his friendship enthusiasm, but his enmities died away as soon as he had succeeded in making his foe ridiculous. He was a kind and skilful watcher over a sick bed, and never appeared weary in administering to the comfort of the afflicted. He had a passion for being with the dying and the dead ; and he adjnst- ed the folds of the winding sheet with ex- quisite taste, and the grave digger's mattock and spade were lovely instruments in his eyes. He evinced a hatred to all lies on tomb-stones, and often made parodies on flat- tering epitaphs. One which ended in an old fashioned couplet, " Deaths by thy fiery darts thou hast me slain," he changed to '•'- Rum^ by thy," &c. which alteration mad a great noise at the time. Many stronger minds than that of Dex- ter have been at times under the influence of superstition. His was in constant thral- dom by its influence. Brutus saw Caesar's ghos,t, who promised to meet him at Philip- pia, and Buonaparte believed in presenti- ments, Fates and Fortunes. My lord Dexter had a great variety of fortune-telling works, dream books, and such valuable trash. Of- ten, not trusting entirely to one juggler, he would consult another, and sometimes they played into each other's hands. On the pur- LIFE OF DEXTER. 83 lieus of the town there lived a singularly bold, intelligent woman, who went by the name of madam Hooper : the name she probably assumed, as it was a highly respectable one in the town in which she lived. She had made her appearance af- ter the peace «f 1763, and unquestionably had been an appendage to the English army in Canada. She gave out that she was the widow of a British officer, who fell with Wolfe. She had'received a'good education, particularly for that day. This woman ob- tained a school in the town, and taught fe- males with success ; but, at length, becomi,ng tired of the labor, she gave it up and lived on fortune-telling. She ,was wondrously shrewd, and made many admirable conjec- tures upon forth-coming time, by knowing the past events of the individual's life. She sometimes pretended that her charms refus- ed to work, and her applicants were sent away, to come again in a more propitious hour. This gave her an opportunity of hear- ing all the conjectures made upon the sub- ject. Then her Mephistopheles would obey the league and bring information. She had a masculine voice, and powerful arm, by which she could wield a sword, particularly a broad sword, with the skill and force of a fencing master. She was also an excellent shot with gun or pistol, and frequently 84 LIFE OF DEXTER. amused herself by trials of skill, all alone, except she was watched by some wonder- struck boys who had taken pains to conceal themselves to witness her feats. Her con- versations generally partook of aphoristic fragments, enigmatical sentences, with up- lifted or downcast eyes, or attended with strange gestures ; and she not unfrequently closed her incantations with indistinct mut- terings, as if communing with invisible spirits. On a time Dexter had a bed of fine melons robbed, night after night, of the ripest and best of fruit. His astrologer could not give him any information on this subject, as it was nearly the full of the moon, the patroness of thieves, and the stars, by being further from the earth, refused to answer all inquiry at the time. The astrol- oger advised Dexter to apply to madam Hooper, as her conjuration was not affected by the moon or any other planet. Dexter, at length, applied to her. She called up the thief for her own satisfaction. She repre- sented him as a grave looking man, in drab clothes, one that was never suspected by the owner of the melons, but she distinctly told him how to find the house, and that there he would find several melons that had been marked by him. Precisely as he was di- rected, he did, and there were his melons, concealed, to be sold next day. She had LIFE OF DEXTER. 8^ now established her fame with Dexter. It was probably by a system of espoinage that she was able to do all this ; but it must be confessed, that many of her prophecies, inu- endoes, and even positive declarations, have, as yet, found no Sphinx to unriddle them. She was one of the best physiognomists in the world. She frequently made his lord- ship a visit, and asked for nothing she did not receive. She did not live long enough to see Dexter in his wane, but at her death he took into favor the celebrated Moll Pitcher, who lived at the very inconvenient distance of twenty-eight miles from his chateau ; but she was several times consulted by Dexter. The first time he visited the dame he went in disguise; but she soon found him out, but, concealing the fact, told all that had happen- ed to him for many years past, and this chained him at once to the full belief of the potency of her spells. Pitcher was a shrewd woman, without education, and Dexter sympathized with her more readily, and un- derstood her better, than he did the learned dame Hooper. He was afraid of the latter, but he came within the magic circle of the other without any dread. The history of these women might be pursued until the wise would blush, and the judicious grieve, to find how many of good sense in most things have made fools of themselves, by 86 LIFE OT DEXTER. clandestinely consulting these fortune-tellers. The belief that the dev^l allows some of his imps to know something hid from the wise was an early impression, and one tiiat will last as long as man exists, but such is the progress of common sense that the evils that once flowed from this error have ceased to be in any degree alarming. Dexter, in all probability, saved money by his acquaint- ance with these persons, reputed to know every one who trespassed upon his premises. But few men or boys dared under the cover of darkness to run the risk of encountering those who dealt in supernatural agency. Such is human nature, that many, who af- fect to despise all stories of hobgoblins and witches in the sunshine, are confoundedly afraid of them in the dark, parti,cularly when doing what their consciences teach them to be wrong. To guard his fruit, a few sentinels, man-traps and spells of en- chanters, united, gave his garden a security that the Hespe rides never was sure of, ur;- der the potent spells of the dragon ; and there is no more insidious and formidable foe than the boys of a city are to the or- chards of the vicinity. We have mentioned Dexter's literary taste as being greater than his acquirements. He, in emulation of the kings of England, select- ed a poet laureate ; never was there a more LIFE OF DEXTER. 87 admirable selection. Their tastes, their ge- nius, and, in some measure, their course of Hfe, were suited to each other. The name of the bard was rather unpoetical, being Jonathan Plummer; but at that time that wicked wag, lord Byron, had not said "Amos Cottle Phoebus ! what a name." He was younger than his patron by more than twenty years ; but was wonderfully grave for his age. He was born near Gravel hill, in the town of Newbury, a large ancient town, from which Newbury port had been taken, a few years before the revolution. Unlike most poets, he died near the very spot of his birth-place. He was a strange and wayward boy, had a great fondness for reading, and possessed a remarkable memo- ry. At about sixteen or eighteen years of age, he attended a meeting of religious enthu- siasts who worshipped God in the woods and fields. Here, while listening to the ranting of field preachers, his genius blazed forth, and he spoke like one of gifts and graces. His voice was deep toned and sol- emn, and of great compass, and his dis- courses were often graced with anecdotes from his miscellaneous reading. He soon announced to the world his intention of de- voting his days to the holy calling of saving souls, and abandoned his former honest call- ing of selling halibut from a wheelbarrow, 88 LIFE OF DEXTER. at fair weight ancl low prices ; a fat firi cut for two coppers a pound, the more solid parts for a copper; and when there was a more plentiful supply, even a ''^ Brwna^em)'' would buy enough to furnish a man a din- ner. When the halibut were gone, he used his wheelbarrow as a vehicle from which he vended straw for under beds, and, for years, he managed this business. He, at times, under his mass of straw concealed certain publications, that were frowned at, if not prohibited, at common law. He sold Hoyle to young men, and a copy of Bonnel Thorn- ton's poems might be had of him ; but when he became a student in divinity all these sources of profit failed, for it was not decor- ous now to deal in these matters; but as genius is always full of resources, he soon appeared in another sphere of letters. He seized all the terrible accidents^ drownings^ suicides^ and harigings^ and ornamenting his sheet with coffins, and spreading it out with eulogies, elegies, and warnings^ in prose and verse, he ushered them to the public from a literary cabinet, as he called the bas- ket on his arm. This was a profitable trade, for he added to this Piei-ian stock a box of Hygeian pills, or a tincture in phials for certain cures and preventives, (fee- At times, for a few cents, he would recite his own compositions, or those he had committed to LIFE OF DEXTER. B9 memory ; and, if in an affected manner, yet that manner was not without effect. Dur- ing some months in the winter he retired to the country, and kept school, and was not unfrequently quite a popular master, for in his day there were districts in which the question among the school committee was, not " what does he know?'' but " how cheap can we get him?'' His whole business now was with the Muses, in one or more of their capacities, as inspirers or teachers of mankind. In the bright and sweet risings of his fame, but while he yet wore the clerical habit, his pro- ductions caught the eye of the " greatest Tnan of the East f^ an introduction was readily had, for wealth makes no ceremony of entering the temples of learning. The divine had never received a call, although his fame had been widely spread. How of- ten do we see prosing dulness take the place, ay, the precedency of exalted talents. Per- haps thinking he should never rise to a bene- fice^ he closed with a proposal to enter the ser- vice of Dexter as poet laureate. The stipend, for genius can never stoop to salaries, was small, but he was furnished with a singularly splendid livery. It consisted in a long, blacky frock coat, with stars on the collar, and also at the front corners ; tliis livery also was fringed, where fringes could be put; a black 90 LIFE OF DEXTER. under dress, shoes and large buckles, with a large cocked hat, and a gold-headed cane, made out the dress. The poet laureate began his reign by eulogies in prose and verse, and for some time the poet and patron were mu- tually happy ; but after a while Jonathan found that his muse could not produce flat- tery half as fast as the cormorant appetite of his patron demanded, and when he did concoct an article of the kind it was not half as saleable as the wonderful matters Avhich he gathered for his calender of strange events. A religious scruple came over his conscience ; in a dream he had learned that it was sinful to wear frmges ; this scruple he imparted to his patron, who ridiculed the impression as nonsensical. This was too much for the lau- reate : still, however, after mutual jealousies and scoldings on one side, and mutterings on the other, they patched up treaties of peace, which lasted until the death of the patron. Jonathan expected to be remembered in the will of Timothy, but he was not, and his grief could not be assuaged, or the loss of his legacy could not be forgotten ; but he was obliged to console himself with the hon- ors he had already received. The poet continued his labors in compo- sitions and sales for nearly twenty years af- ter the death of his patron, and by the most rigid economy accumulated a pretty little LIFE OF DEXTER. 91 property, as was found at his death. He had written, published, and sold several wills of his own, before his death, but he left one altogether different as his last testa- ment. Some of the fair damsels mentioned in a will he published many years before, had grown old when he was about to give up the ghost, and their charms were no lon- ger the keys of his coffers. During a great part of his life no man was more self-com- placent than Jonathan Plummer; no poet ever more satisfied with his muse ; but his distracted brain at length was seized with the disease of self -abhorrence, and he acted on the maxim, ^' if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out," until it led to a mutilation of his person ; but he recovered from this, and died of self-starvation. So departed this poet of dreadful accidents^ of groans, and tears^ and vmrnings. who had been city and country ballad-monger for more than forty years. If his fame shall not be as ex- tensive as the laureates of other times, his life was more singular; no one of the whole list, from Dryden to Southey, was more in- dustrious; and in this he differed from them, he was more successful in selling than in composing; and perhaps in one more he sur- passed them, he was quite as grateful to his patron as they were to their kings. Dryden was removed from his office by a profligate .'92 LIFE OF DEXTER. monarch, or his subservient ministers, to make room for such a poetaster as Shad- well. The supremacy of Plummer was never questioned, nor was he ever supersed- ed; although at times it must be confessed that Dexter received praise from rival poets, and " rolled it as a sweet morsel under his "tongue." Plummer was moral, didactic and pathetic, but indifferently descriptive. I do not remember that he ever attempted a full picture of the palace and its appendages, notwithstanding it afforded a more ample field for poetical description than Windsor Forest^ or even Wapping^ themes on which Pope dwelt with so much delight, and in which he succeeded so admirably well. Sternhold and Hopkins were the models on which our bard fashioned his productions, and if he deviated from them it was to fol- low the early New England psalmist, whose works, shame on the taste of the times ! have gone down to oblivion. He satirized the fol- lies and vices of men without being particu- lar as to fools and culprits. Plummer boasted that he had been crown- ed with the poet's wreaths of flowers, by the hand of his patron, in open day, but never seemed satisfied that all had been done which the august ceremony required. Some years after the laurel crown had been placed on Plummer's brow, some one read to him LIFE OF DEXTER. ^3- the ceremony of crowning those poets who had won*the prizes in Italy. The crowning of Petrarch and Corrina attracted his atten- tion, and he sighed to think that he nor his patron was acquainted with these gorgeous ceremonies when he was honored with the laurel. Dexter had been told that the Dru- ids crowned their bards with misletoe, and as this did not grow in his garden he was directed to use parsley in its stead. This herb, or rather weed, is frangible, and easily wilts ; but in this case it did not perish by sun, wind or rain, for the mob of boys press- ed on so furiously that the ceremony was interrupted, the laurel scattered, and the poet and his patron fled. Some laughing damsel, hearing of the issue of the ceremony, bound some artificial flowers on the cocked hat, which looked as well as the wreath of Parnassus, drenched in the richest dews of Castalia. This was the only time an attempt was ever made to crown an American poet, Kterally, as it was done in former times. Still there are men now walking our streets who wear the bays by dint of puflers, who never deserved a single leaf of laurel ; who, for tinshy-washy^ silky-Tmlky rhymes, print- ed in either hemisphere, and trumpeted by those who expect a similar favor, are astonished that the world let them pass without pseans from every quarter. They M OFE OF DEXTEK. ft may reign for a while, as Shadwell took the laureate's leaf from Dry den, but they will in a few years pass away as the whole bevy of the Delia Cruscan school was swept into oblivion by the iron hand of GifFord. There was some hissing among the small snakes, and writhing and darting of stings of those who reared their heads as gorgons of a big- ger size, but the very '-^ reliictantes dracones'' died within the grasp of the modern Juvenal. Oh ! for some extermination of this noi- some race, for whether they belong to the tribe of creeping reptiles, or may be classi- fied with fawning puppies, they are equally offensive. The poet was in the full sale of his works in 1808, after the death of his patron, when a young lawyer came to Newburyport to practise in his profession. The honest own- er of the premises which he wished to hire told him candidly, that he would find one great nuisance about the premises, that no one but death could abate. He then stated that Plummer, the poet, was in the habit of fitting on the steps of the office several hours in the day, and that his temper was so vin- dictive that he, nor any other person, dared drive him away. "Never mind that," said the young man, " I will take that upon my- self" On taking possession of the premises he said not a word to Plummer for some weeks, LIFE OF DEXTER-. 95 and he came with his basket as usual. The occupant in the mean time bought of all the Parnassian assortment of the poet, and put his name as a subscriber for whatever might come from his pen; the poet's confidence was entirely won, and they interchanged as friends the words of salutation every day. At length, one day the lawyer took Mr. Plummer aside, and observed, " I know you are my friend, and you will hear me patient- ly. You are aware that people who visit law- yers' offices are of all classes,— sometimes the rich, who wish to oppress, sometimes the poor, who want protection, and not unfre- quently the vicious : now none of these wish to be inspected by the pious clergyman who may point at them in his next discourse ; this drives a great many from my door to others; you certainly do not want to injure me." The poet seemed to awake from a dream. " I see it, I see it all," was his first remark, — " you shall find me there no more," and was as good as his word. The poet was now invited to come into the office, and examine the lawyer's library, which contain- ed the English classics, and select those he wished for his reading. The poet sparingly availed himself of the offer, but took several volumes of poetry, which he read with avid- ity, and conversed upon the merits of the authors, as he returned the books, if with S6 * LIFE OF DEXTEJR. some singularity, certainly with no small degree of acumen ; but after a few months he ceased to come altogether ; when the law- yer meeting him, said in a pleasant way, " I wish to know, friend Plummer, why you have discontinued reading my books ; " i hope you are not offended with me." " I will tell you honestly," said Plummer, " I dare not read any more books of poetry, for the more T read the less satisfied I am with my own composition. Once I thought I stood num- ber one as a poet, for God had inspired me, as he once did doctor Watts, but I can't make it go now, as I once did before I was seduced by the heathen gods and goddesses. I am punished for having gone astray after idols; but I can't help saying that they are sweet creatures ; but I must forget them, or I shall certainly be lost." It was in vain for the young gentleman to assert that in his opinion. Youngs Milton^ Cotoper^ and others were equally inspired with the good doctor Watts; it would not do. On a close ex- amination the inquirer found that " Quarles^ Emblems'^ was this poet's most admired volume, and this was presented to him. The subsequent writings of Plummer bore evidence of his having thoroughly read the work; no wonder that such a wild, pious, half crazy production of genius as that of Quarles' should attract such a poet as Plum- LIFE OF DEXTER. 97 mer. Indeed, it is astonishing that the work js not held in higher estimation than it is, by those of purer taste, for some of his figures and ilhistrations border on the oriental beau- ties of the Apocalypse. The person of Plummer was not of most etherial make. His feet were long and clumsy ; his legs thick, his chest broad and strong ; his face was long, with a prominent nose, wide mouth and thick lips. He was irascible and vindictive, and it fared sadly with the boy he caught, who, to use his own peculiar phrase, attempted to make gamut of him. He had the vanity — and is there a poet without it? — to think that he was a handsome man, and that half of the female world was enamored with him ; but neither beauty, wealth or fame, kept the laureate from the destiny of falling by his own will. " Poets, alas ! must fall like those they sung, Deaf the praised ear, and mute the tuneful tongue." A humble stone marks the spot where the ashes of the laureate repose, but {q,w pil- grimages are made to it. Around him rest the early settlers who were men of renown. The Dummers, the Sewalls, Biblical Analysis j or a Topical Arrangement of the Instructions of the Scriptures. By J, U. Parsons. Adapted to the use of Ministers, Sabbath School and Bible Classes, Teachers, Family Worship and Private Meditation. Royal 8 vo'. Trade sale, $1,20, Retail, $1,50. Recreations of a Merchant ; or the Christian Sketch Book. By Wm. A. Brewer. 12mo. Trade 42cts., retail 50, MuRDERS; DaRIN(J OuTRASES AND BlO&RAPHICAL SKETCH- ES. With Plates. 12mo. Trade 80 cts., retail SlOft Analytical Vocabulary; or Analytical System of Teaching Orthography: in which the Spelling, Meaning and Construc- tion of 80,000 Words are taught from 8,000 Roots. By J. U. Parsons, author of Analytical Spelling Book, Biblical Analysis, &c. 12mo> Trade 30 cts., retail 37. 108 The Rat-Trap 5 or Cogitations of a Convict in the House of Correction. By Wm. J. Snelling. 12mo. Trade 20 cts., retail 25. The Universal Dream Book. 32mo. 12 1-2 cents. A Caution to the Young; or tfie First Step in Vice. (By a Lady.) 32 mo., 4 cts. Also, a variety of Bibles and other books in neat gilt bindings, at a low price for cash. G. N. Thomson would respectfully inform his friends and the public generally, that he has taken a room at 32 Washington street, and fitted it up for a bindery; where he will give his attention to binding of every description, in large or small quantities to suit the public, and on the most reasonable terms. Particular attenti6n given to rebinding old books. Names neatly letterea in gilt on books, morocco, &c. N. B. Bindery, 32 Washington St., (up Stairs.) ^^^> m. ^I3?#^^ ^;^xp* ^MK^WlHWMMmL «3:5i^^vS*^^ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 077 681 6 •