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ANECDOTE OF MRS. ROSS.

There are few traits more capable of rendering woman illustrious, and few to be compared with that which shone in the conduct of Mrs. Ross, during our disastrous war with America, though the result of her conjugal heroism pro⚫ ved fatal to her, and the object of her affection.

Captain Ross had made engagements with a young female, which her parents refused to ratify. Honour and duty compelled him to go to America, and the object of his affection was resolved to follow him. She departed in men's clothes, and just arrived at the scene of war time enough to learn that a sanguinary skirmish had taken place between the savages and the detachment commanded by the object of her search. She flew to the field of battle, and found it strewed with dead bodies; in the midst of which she perceived the form of Captain Ross! She instantly caught him in her arms, and thought she felt his heart beat. She discovered he was wounded, and she endeavoured to staunch the wound, which was yet bleeding; and for some time she applied her lips to it, and sucked it. This remedy, well known, but seldom resorted to, insensibly

restored him to life.

In the mean time she feared by making herself known, she might

cause an emotion to her lover which might be attended with certain danger. She therefore disguised her complexion and her features, as she had already disguised her sex; and with unremitting care, nursed and attended him for forty days; at the end of which perfectly assured of his restoration to health, she made herself known to him, who during his long illness had never ceased to speak of her, and express the regret he felt, that ere he had quitted the world he should not have the satisfaction of being united to her he so fondly loved. It is not easy to describe the joy of the lovers in a meeting so unhoped for. They departed together for Philadelphia, where the ratified their vows of eternal affection at the altar.

cup of felicity, when a langour, that no medical art could heal, attacked the system, and threatened the existance of Mrs. Ross. It was soon known that her husband had been wounded with a poisoned arrow; and that, in sucking the wound, she had imbibed the venom, which by degrees had changed the whole mass of her blood into an impoisoned state. Captain Ross could not survive this last cruel stroke; he died the victim of despair, at seeing the frustration of all their hopes destroyed, in her who had perished by restoring him to life. He expired at Johnstown, in the spring of 1778. Mrs. Ross supported herself only, after the loss of her husband, by the certain hopes of soon following him. But she had fortitude sufficient to cross the Atlantic, to implore the pardon of her parents, with whom she languished a short time and died at Hammersmith, in the month of July, 1779, aged twenty five years.-A monument is erected to her memory in Hammersmith church, recording this memorable event.

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nature.

Et c'est dans le moment d'une si belle vie,
Dans ces jours fortunés de calme, de bonheur,
Que la cruelle main de la parque eunemie,
L'enlève à sa famille, a ce monde, a notre cœur.

Montons done notre Lyre en accords douloureux ;

Ah! Que nos pleurs coulent, et arrosent sa cendre,
En dépit de la mort, ils se ferout entendre,
Sa tombe est dans le cœur de tout être tertueux.

But scarcely had they tasted the Falmouth, March 3rd. 1826.

A.

THE DYING BABE.

(A Sketch from the Amulet.) "Happy infant early blest!"

"Ir must die John; the Lord will take it to himself-and his will be done," was the exclamation of the mother, as she gazed earnestly upon the pallid cheek of her departing babe, and then turned her eyes upwards, in calm and pious resignation to the mandate that had gone forth to join the infant to the host of sinless spirits who watch around the throne of the Almighty; while the guardian Angel lingered till death had released the struggling soul from the clay, which had been but a short time its dwelling. The husband and the father bowed his head and wept bitterly, as he repeated the words "his will be done!" As the faint breathings of the little sufferer became less and less distinct, hope sunk in the breast of the mother, who, with that sickness of the heart which ariseth from hope deferred, had been long watching the progress of the disorder, and praying to the Almighty to spare the young babe.

The father had been standing by, gazing upon them both, still hoping that the mother and the child might not be separated-that the mother might not suffer the greatest of all earthly afflictions, the removal of her babe, at the moment when it was becoming most interesting,-just as its little tongue had learned to lisp her name— and when every day brought with it some new promise that parental anxieties, attentions, and prayers, would be rewarded by the more than earthly happiness of beholding it "increase in wisdom, and in stature, and in favour both with God and man."

The hand of affliction had been laid heavily on this young couple. Although both young, they had already lost several children. Their first-born was a beautiful boy as ever blessed the heart of a parent-but the day after his fourth birth-day, he was brought home a drowned corpse to the bosom of his then almost despairing mother.

The fate of his sister was still more melancholy. She perished during a fire that left her parents childless and

in poverty. A third died of the small pox; another, of a still more lingering and fatal disease; and it was their last and only child who now lay dying in the cradle.

While they submitted to the decree of the Almighty, as those always do who know that every thing is ordered for the best, they felt as human nature must ever feel; but though they still prayed that "the bitter cup might pass from them," their faith enabled them to say, "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away-blessed be the name of the Lord!

In a short time death had given the infant immortality-and the young father and the young mother were again childless.

They bent over the remains of their child-beautiful in death--for neither the cares, nor the sorrows, nor the sins of that world, in which it had sojourned but for a little while, had been felt by their offspring.

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Mary," said the husband, "our child is now happy: our faith has been again tried, and we must remember that the patriarch would have obeyed his God, even at the altar, on which his own son was to have been the sacrifice. We have not been called to such a trial; let us then render our babe cheerfully into the hands of Him who gave him to us."

The wife, who had been absolved in grief, and who was watching the body of her babe, as if she doubted whether he was indeed dead, and still hoping that the returning flush would again brighten on his check, turned to the voice of consolation. "I would not," she said I think I would not ask my God to give him to me--but he was so beautiful, so like his father whose name he had but lately learned to lisp-so interesting. so gentle, that I must weep to know I can never more here him prattle, that he will never again press my bosom, and twine his little fingers in my hair-but must go down to the grave before he had learned to bless his creator."

The husband again wept, for all his feelings of affection for his litile one had been awakened,--and he remembered that he was childless.

When the Almighty saw it good, their sorrows ceased, and they were blessed with many children; when greater prosperity and more experience enabled them to increase their comforts and their advantages, and to bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, daily"-while those they had lost were remembered only as so many perfected beings, who would join them in another and a better world.

SLAVERY IN SURINAM.

A gentleman passing by a plantation, was suddenly alarmed with some doleful shrieks, which seemed to issue from a female voice. On approaching the spot, he found a handsome young negress, nearly suspended by her hands, her feet being fastened to a block, when she was destined to receive four hundred lashes. Her inhuman master, who had sentenced her to undergo this punishment was standing by, to see it executed in all its rigour. The crime of which the sufferer had been guilty, was that of disobedience; which on further enquiry, the gentleman found to be, a refusal to gratify her tyrant's brutal appetite.

How many lashes the unhappy victim had received, the stranger was unable to learn, but she appeared to be literally flayed alive; and from the neck to the ankle, her whole body was covered with blood.

Struck with compassion, the generous stranger approached the master, and begged him, in the name of humanity, to remit the remaining part of the sentence. This application produced the following reply, "To prevent the interference of strangers whenever I punish my slaves, I always make it a rule, if ever they are so officious, to double the number of lashes originally included in the sentence. This now shall be her lot. Instead of four hundred, she shall have eight,"

The gentleman was so struck with horror at this brutal speech, that he instantly retired from the scene of blood. and pursued his journey, under the full conviction, that the unfeeling monster would suffer his vengeance to get

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EFFECT OF

GROWING PROSPERITY.

The effect of great prosperity on a people is to close up some springs of natural happiness. The real condition of man upon this earth is only understood by those whose minds are kept awake and clear by suffering. Even the common relations of life, the natural affections, have not half their proper character, when they are not edged by pain. The condition of man is that of being connected with other beings, from whom he is liable to be separated by death, having his love rested upon their love, and his happiness upon their moral welfare. They have a destination here and in immortality, which are as essential to him as their life; and that destination hangs in continual uncertainty. Of his natural affection, therefore, pain and fear are essential ingredients, and it bears its true nature only when these enter into it. The mind that is not provident and reflective, and of deep sensibilities, is not capable of the true condition of natural life. But, besides this, the man himself has a moral destination, and is bound, besides, under an invisible subjection. In what plight is he, if he has no consciousness of these conditions of his being? He may be conscious of them it is true, and yet lost in offence. That is a separate But how much worse is he, if he is altogether unconscious of them,

case.

and knows not of their existence.

Now it appears to be the effect of prosperity to shut up all these sensibilities; to extinguish or prevent in the soul much moral knowledge. For in an unaitering condition of life men get used to that which is good, and they may come to weigh their estate absolutely and truly. But in growing prosperity, the sense is continually flattered with new enjoyment and new hope. The man can never take the true estimate of his condition. The world that looks to him with a face of enjoyment can never seem a scene of trial. The strength of the human mind might raise itself above the seduction of a stable wealth, and might come to discern in the midst of it duties and necessities.

The inheritance of wealth may not imply voluptuousness. And though there are many things in all elevations, of wealth, power, or dignity, which carry with thers seduction and illusion, though it be difficult to the spirit nursed in the lap of luxury, ever to set foot on the hard earth-though the vices of the great, and the effeminate softness of their lives, are old themes of censure; yet it seems clear that great virtues, high principles, and even manly simplicity of character, may subsist among those who are born to hereditary wealth. Where effeminate luxury has dissolved the spirit of the higher orders of a nation, something else has been there to take from them their greatness besides the simple possession of wealth. But with the gradual influx of prosperity upon the mind, it is difficult to conceive virtue to co-exist. Man's self is continually flattered and exalted, and the force of obligation is taken off. Besides, as the effect of growing prosperity is constantly to increase the enjoyments of sense, it draws the mind more into that direction, and gives more weight and magnitude to that part of happiness.

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LACONICS.

Our senses, our appetites, and our passions, are our lawful and faithful guides, in most things that relate solely to this life; and, therefore, by the hourly necessity of consulting them, we gradually sink into an implicit submission, and habitual confidence. Every act of compliance with their motions facilitates a second compliance, every new step towards depravity is made with less reluctance than the former, and thus the descent to life merely sensual, is perpetually accelerated.-Johnson.

To be ambitious of true honor, of the true glory and perfection of our natures, is the very principle and incentive of virtue; but to be ambitious of titles, of place, of ceremonial respects and civil pagentry, is as vain and little as the things are which we count.-Sherlock,

SPANISH PEASANTRY.

(From recollections of the Peninsula.)

IN attempting to ride a nearer road from Garfete to Abrantes, than that which led by Gaviao, we lost our way, and were obliged to put up for the night in a poor goat-herd's hut. We here, however, witnessed a scene of domestic happiness and patriarchal manners, which gave us reason to rejoice that we had slept under such a roof. The family consisted of a venerable old peasant, his daughter, a woman of about four-and-thirty, and her five children; the eldest a most beautiful girl of fifteen, and the youngest, a fine black-eyed boy of eight. The husband of this woman was absent on a journey; the old peasant was not within; and when we first entered, the mother and her children were at supper: they pressed us to partake of it; we declined, but procured from them some fine rich goat's milk, and boiling it up with bread of Indian corn, made an excellent meal. It was late when the old man came in from his labour; he expressed great delight at our having rested in his cot, as, he said, there was no house within two leagues of that spot, the night dark and stormy, and the road bad and dangerous. A small wooden bowl of vegatable soup was brought him for supper; he crossed himself and said a short grace; but my astonishment was not a httle excited. by observing that during the whole time he was eating his frugal meal, the family all stood up, and with their hands closed and lifted up, and their eyes raised towards the crucifix, prayed; not with extravagant fervour, nor as if it were a tame unmeaning form, but with much natural feeling, and seemed to invoke blessings on the head of this, the respected elder of their cottage.

The old man, too, however habitual it might be, appeared deeply impressed with the ceremony, and took his food with a sort of quiet, solemn thankfulness. The expression of the granddaughter's countenance, who seemed much attached to him, was really seraphic; and I thought the whole scene quite a subject for a

painting. In general the beauty of people, in a common class of life, carries with it a stamp of vulgarity, for which it is difficult to account, but which checks admiration. Here it was far-otherwise. An expressive eye of the deepest blue, an elegant contour of countenance, dark clustering ring. lets, and a perfect form, would have made this cottage girl remarkable any where; and she would have been gazed on with interest as well as pleasure, amid the most brilliant assemblies of a capital or a court. When we lay down for the night, all the children knelt at the feet of their grandfather and received his blessing, sealed by him with a kiss upon their foreheads. I slept with a sort of sweet and superstitious confidence under this happy roof: so much, and so pleasingly had I been affected by the simplicity of manners among its poor contented inmates.

In the morning, after literally forcing on them a small present, we set forward highly gratified, and took a very pleasant bridle path to Abrantes, where we embarked for Lisbon.

If any of your Protestant readers should object that the devotion and amusements of the peasantry are mixed up with the Roman Catholic faith, they should recollect that it could not be otherwise in Spain, notwithstanding which, many a Protestant might derive instruction from them. If their festive parties and public amusements were as harmless as the one above described, there would be no plea for the interference of the magistrate to suppress the few that remain to the poor, on account of the folly and vice which attend them. In this anecdote, we have a remarkable instance of cheerful filial piety; it speaks forcibly the same language to the reformed Protestant, as the parable of the Samaritan did to the orthodox Pharisee, "Go, and do thou likewise."

ON FEMALE GAMESTERS. A night of fretful passion may consume, All that thou hast of beauty's gentle bloom, And one distemper'd hour of sordid fear Print on thy brow the wrinkles of a year.

SHERIDAN.

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