I have related this story to shew the danger of admitting a wife to give evidence against her husband, according to the Blue Laws; and to caution all readers against crediting too much the historians of New-England, who, either from motives of fear or emolument, have in numberless instances designedly disguised or concealed the truth. Such persons whose stubborn principles would not bend to this yoke, were not suffered to search the colonial records; and those who have dared to intimate that all was not right among the first settlers, have been compelled to leave the country with the double loss of character and property. To Newhaven now belongs Yale College, of which I have promised my readers a particular account. It was originally, as already mentioned, a School, established by the Rev. Thomas Peters at Saybrook, who left it his library at his death. It soon acquired the distinguished appellation of “Schola Illustris,” and about 1700 was honoured by the General Assembly with a charter of incorporation, converting it into a college, under the denomination of Yale College, in compliment to a gentleman of that name, governor of one of the West India Islands, and its greatest benefactor. The charter constitutes a president, three tutors, twelve overseers, and a treasurer; and exempts it from any visitation of the Governor or Assembly, in order to secure it against the control of a King’s Governor, in case one should ever be appointed. I have already observed that a power of conferring Bachelors’ and Masters’ degrees was granted by the charter, and that the corporation have thought proper to assume that of conferring Doctors’ degrees. By the economical regulations of the College, there are a professor of divinity, mathematics, and natural philosophy; and four classes of students, which were at first attended by the president and the three tutors; but the president has long been excused that laborious task, and a fourth tutor appointed in his stead. Each class has its proper tutor. Once a week the president examines them all in the public hall, superintends their disputations and scientific demonstrations, and, if any student appears to be negligent, orders him under the care of a special tutor--a stigma which seldom fails of producing its intended effect. Greek, Latin, geography, history, and logic, are well taught in this seminary; but it suffers for want of tutors to teach the Hebrew, French, and Spanish languages. Oratory, music, and politeness, are equally neglected here and in the colony. The students attend prayers every morning and evening, at six o’clock. The president, professor, and one of the tutors, reads and expounds a chapter, then a psalm is sung, after which follows a prayer. The hours of study are notified by the College bell, and every scholar seen out of his room is liable to a fine, which is seldom excused. The amusements for the evenings are not cards, dancing, or music, but reading and composition. They are