The Finger of Mr. Broliman (a provincial officer in the British service, in the war before the last) who was executed at Philadelphia for the murder of a Mr. Scull. This unfortunate gentleman, soured by some disgust, became weary of life. In this temper of mind, he one morning rose earlier than usual, and walked out upon the common of the city, with his fusee in hand, determined to shoot the first person he should meet. The first person he saw was a very pretty young girl, whose beauty disarmed him. The next presented was the late Dr. Cadwallader--The Doctor, bowing politely to Mr. Broliman (who, though unknown to him, had the garb and appearance of a gentleman) accosted him with "Good morning, Sir! What sport?" The Officer answered the Doctor very civilly; and was so struck with his gentlemanly manner and pleasing address, that he forebore to execute his desperate resolution: Impelled, however, by the same gloominess of disposition which actuated him when he first set out, he repaired to the Centre house, where some gentlemen were engaged at billiards--The tack of one of the players happening to strike his hat, the wretched man, eager for an opportunity of accomplishing his desire to leave the world, instantly shot Mr. Scull, one of the company, who died of the wound. This little story affords a striking proof, that amiableness and politeness of manners are not only pleasing, but useful, in our commerce with the world.