The ALLIGATOR, feeling himself some pumpkins, on Sunday last, ventured upon an excursion to the Jarsies, as much from a desire to have universal absolution by a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Quietus, as from a longing to fraternize with the gallant Zouave, so particularly enamored with the “blunt.” Basking in the smiles, literal and liquid, of the Hotel Napoleon, and, sunned by the presence of the fair hostess, the Alligator was enwrapt in a pleasant revery, much after the owl-like manner, in which the sedate and philosophical Peter Cooper presides over a reform convention. But his repose was broken by learning the astounding fact that the Jersies, and especially Hoboken, was in a state of political insurrection, and that for the moment the authority of James Buchanan, President of these United States, was despised, contemned and absolutely denounced,—and even one rebel, unconscious of the Alligator’s presence, absolutely expressed a fervent desire to punch that dignitary’s venerable head. It seems from all that we can glean, that the Executive of this Republic, feeling the salvation of the country to depend upon the electors of Hoboken and the parts circumjacent, directed the renomination of the representative in Congress, at present representing that district. This, it seems, was too much for Jersey patience, exhausted as it is from passive submission to the tyranny of Camden and Amboy; and, therefore, Hoboken has raised the standard of revolt in the person of a learned judge, who is to mount the stump to vindicate the honor of Jersey, and perhaps of its lightning. How the unterrified democracy will survive this disaffection, we are at a loss to imagine—for the loss of Hoboken, which familiarly styles itself our sister city, and a very infant of a sister at that, must be a bitter pill to an Administration in a tight place. One hope only is left. Cannot the President induce John McKeon to reduce the rebellious people to a perpetual slumber by one of his soporific orations; and even should this fail, perchance Mr. Justice Whitley might be induced to talk to them for half an hour. We are convinced that the people of Jersey would do anything rather than submit to this final calamity. To Our Readers. During the past few weeks, it has been currently reported in some quarters, that D. W. JOBSON, Esq., is now conducting the _Alligator_. That is not so. Mr. JOBSON never had—has not now, and, for aught we know at present, never will have anything to do with the _Alligator_. Answers to Correspondents. “VAN.”—Your communication will appear in our next issue, it being received too late to be of use for the moment. THE ALLIGATOR. New York, Saturday, September 4, 1858. More Advice to Mr. Barnard.