This woman was cook-maid to colonel Barnes of Maryland; she was born in Virginia, and is about forty years old, remarkably healthy and robust, and originally as black as the blackest African. About fifteen years ago, the skin next adjoining to the nails of the fingers became white, her mouth soon after suffered the same alteration, which gradually extended over the whole body, though not quite in an equal degree; four parts in five of her skin are as white, smooth, and transparent, as in a fair European; the neck and back along the vertebræ, are least changed; her face and neck, in which the change is complete, discover the veins under the skin; and are suffused with blushes, when any accident excites the passions, either of anger or shame. * * * * * * * * * _NEW-YORK._ * * * MARRIED, On Sunday evening last, by the Rev. Dr. Moore, Mr. CORNELIUS KINGSLAND, to Miss ABIGAIL COCK, both of this city. On Thursday evening the 11th inst. by the Rev. Mr. Totten, Mr. JOHN FOUNTAIN, of Maryland, (travelling minister of the Methodist order) to Miss ELIZABETH RICKHOW, of Staten-Island. On Saturday evening the 20th inst. by the Rev. Mr. Foster, Mr. SILAS B. HAND, Printer, to Miss RHODA COOK, both of this city. On Thursday evening last, by the Rev. Mr. Pilmore, Mr. WILLIAM PEACOCK, jun. of the state of Georgia, to Miss MARY MOORE, of this city. * * * * * _METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS._ _From the 21st to the 27th inst._ _Days of the Month._ _Thermometer observed at 8, A.M. 1, P.M. 6, P.M._ _Prevailing winds._ _OBSERVATIONS on the WEATHER._ deg. deg. deg. 8. 1. 6. 8. 1. 6. 100 100 100 Aug 21 74 80 78 se. do. do. cloudy, lt. wind, clear 22 76 82 78 se. do. do. cloudy, lt. wind, clear, 23 71 82 76 se. do. do. cloudy, lt. wind, clear. 24 73 80 75 80 se. do. do. clear, lt. wind, do. do. 25 70 50 79 78 50 se. do. do. cloudy, lt. wind rain 26 73 77 25 75 n. e. do. cloudy, lt. wd do. do. 27 70 76 75 75 e. s. do. cloudy, lt. wd. do. * * * * * MORNING DAWN. Along the turfy heath cool blows the gale, And dewy odours scent the morning air; No sound I hear, save from the willow’d vale The tinkle of a brook, that murmurs there. In lonely silence wrapt, yon little mill Looks pensive as the moulder’d pile below; Shades hide the forest, and the misty hill Still keeps retiring Night upon its brow. O’er the chill earth all comfortless, I tread; The Eye of Nature beams in other skies: I’ll seek yon bending mountain’s lofty head, And peep upon his beauties ere he rise.