Last month at Dover, Delaware, Squire Loper {419} received sentence of the court for passing forged notes, knowing them to be so. He had been in the commission of the peace for 20 years, and received the forged notes from a gang convicted before him of forgery. The notes had remained in his hands ever since. A month ago, he desired a gentleman, a neighbour of his going to Philadelphia, to buy him some iron, and meeting the gentleman privately, gave him fifty dollars, saying, "Take notice it is a fifty dollar note," and gave it him carefully wrapped in paper. When the bearer offered it for the iron, it was discovered to be one of the forged notes, well known to have been offered by the gang before. The gentleman had some difficulty in keeping out of the Penitentiary. On proving himself not to be a party concerned, and promising to bring the Squire forward, he was released. The Squire admitted the note to be forged, and said, he gave it to his friend only in joke. On being arrested, he was treated with great liberality, but he acted haughtily and foolishly. On his trial he would not employ counsel nor set up any defence; but in a cool, sneering manner said, that the note was given in joke, and the court might do as they would. He was sentenced to six months' solitary confinement, thirty-nine lashes, and never after to pass out of his own house in Dover without the letter F, a foot long in scarlet, on his back, on pain of another six months' confinement and thirty-nine stripes. But so great was the {420} public pity for him, in court and out, both with judge and jury, that the prison door was left open for him in hope that he would escape and quit the neighbourhood for ever. He did escape into the town only, and came back to prison voluntarily, where no such chance is again to be afforded him. At night, I went to the black church, where the black minister shewed much uncultivated talent. After sermon they began singing merrily, and continued, without stopping, one hour, till they became exhausted and breathless. "Oh! come to Zion, come!" "Hallelujah, &c." And then, "O won't you have my lovely bleeding _Jasus_," a thousand times repeated in full thundering chorus to the tune of "Fol de rol." While all the time they were clapping hands, shouting, and jumping, and exclaiming, "Ah Lord! Good Lord! Give me _Jasus_! Amen." At half-past ten this meeting broke up. For an hour it seemed like Bedlam let loose. At the close, one female said, striking the breasts of two male friends, "We had a happy time of it."