Dr. H., of this pleasant city of Elms, has been noted for many years for always driving the gentlest and most sober, but at the same time the most fearfully 'homely' of horses. His steeds will always stand wherever he pleases to leave them, but they have rather a venerable and woful aspect, that renders them anything but pleasant objects to the casual observer. A few years ago there came a caravan to town, and several horses were badly frightened by the elephants, so that quite a number of accidents took place. A day or two after, old Dr. Knight met Dr. H., and speaking of the accidents, Dr. Knight remarked that he had not dared to take his horse out while the procession was passing through the streets. 'Oh, ho!' said Dr. H., 'why, I took my mare and drove right up alongside of them, and she wasn't the least bit scared!' 'Hum--yes,' says Dr. K., '_but how did the elephant stand it_?' * * * * * By particular request we find room for the following:-- Hon. ---- then read his Poem entitled the 'Boulder,' which must be heard before we can form an idea of the genius of the poet. First we are reminded of the style of the sweet songs of Pherimorz as his enchanting strains fell upon the enraptured soul of the fair Lady of the Lake. Then away, on painted wings of gratified imagination, is the mind carried to the zephyr wooings of the dying sunset, over the elevated brow of the dark Maid of the Forest, as she reclines upon her couch of eagles' feathers, and down from angles wings, hearing the last whisper of the falling echo from the world of sound. Whether the wild chaos of storm and whirlwind which madly raged over the benighted earth before 'light was,' rushed to the dark caverns where the fettered earthquake lay, when order was demanded by the Father of Lights, we can not tell; but surely it is a pleasing thought for the mind engulfed in the unfathomed darkness of uncreated light, to be brought out and suffered to rest on the peaceful bosom of the new creation. Whether 'the world that then was' was overflown and perished by the causes set forth, we can not tell. We regret that we can not now give a more extended and particular notice of this poem; let us hope that ere long we may enjoy the delight of reading its printed form. That must indeed have been a poem which could inspire _such_ poetry in others. * * * * * The Boston _Courier_ published, over the signature of 'MIDDLESEX,' during the months of February and March, a number of articles entitled, _Through the Gulf States_. So far as we have examined and compared the series, it appears to be a literal reprint, with a few trivial alterations of dates and statistics, of the _Letters from the Gulf States_, originally published in the _Knickerbocker New York Monthly Magazine_, in 1847.