A STRIKING SPECIMEN OF INDIAN ELOQUENCE,

In a Speech of the Chief of the Mickmakis or Maricheets Savages, dependent on the government of Cape Breton.

When all the peltry of the beasts killed in the enemy’s country, (with whom they are about to declare war) is piled in a heap, the oldest samago, or chieftain of the assembly, gets up and asks what weather it is? is the sky clear? does the sun shine? On being answered in the affirmative, he orders the young men to carry the pile of peltry to a rising ground or eminence, at some little distance from the field or place of assembly. As this is instantly done, he follows them, and as he walks along, begins and continues his address to the sun in the following terms:

“Be witness, thou great and beautiful luminary, of what we are this day going to do in the face of thy orb! If thou didst disapprove us, thou wouldst, this moment hide thyself, to avoid affording the light of thy rays to all the actions of this assembly. Thou didst exist of old, and dost still exist. Thou dost remain for ever as beautiful, as radiant, as beneficent, as when our first forefathers beheld thee. Thou wilt always be the same. The father of the day can never fail us; he who makes every thing vegetate, and without whom cold, darkness, and horror, would every where prevail. Thou knowest all the iniquitous proceedings of our enemies against us. What perfidy have they not used? what deceit have they not employed, whilst we had no room to distrust them? There are now more than five, six, seven, or eight moons revolved since we left the principal among our daughters with them, in order thereby to form the most durable alliance with them, (for, in short, we and they are always the same thing as to our being, constitution, and blood) and yet we have seen them look on these girls of the most distinguished rank, as mere play-things for them; an amusement, a pastime, put by us into their hands, to afford them a quick and easy consolation for the fatal blows we had given them in the preceding war. Yet we had made them sensible, that this supply of our principal maidens was, in order that they should repeople their country more honourably, and to put them under a necessity of conviction, that we were now become sincerely their friends, by delivering them so sacred a pledge of amity as our principal blood. Can we then, unmoved, behold them so basely abusing that through confidence of ours? Beautiful, all-seeing, all-penetrating luminary! without whose influence the mind of man has neither efficacy nor vigour, thou hast seen to what a pitch that nation (who are, however, our brothers) has carried its insolence towards our principal maidens. Our resentment would not have been so extreme with respect to girls of more common birth, the rank of whose fathers had not a right to make such an impression on us: but here we are wounded in a point there is no passing over in silence or unrevenged.—Beautiful luminary! who art thyself so regular in thy course, and in the wise distribution thou makest of thy light from morning to evening, wouldst thou have us not imitate thee? and whom can we better imitate? The earth stands in need of thy governing thyself, as thou dost towards it. There are certain places where thy influence does not suffer itself to be felt, because thou dost not judge them worthy of it. But as for us, it is plain that we are thy children; for we can know no origin but that which thy rays have given us, when first marrying efficaciously with the earth we inhabit, they impregnated its womb, and caused us to grow out of it like herbs of the field, and trees of the forests, of which thou art the common father. To imitate thee, then, we cannot do better than no longer so countenance or cherish those who have proved themselves so unworthy thereof. They are no longer, as to us, under a favourable aspect. They shall dearly pay for the wrong they have done us. They have not, it is true, deprived us of the means of hunting for our maintenance and cloathing; they have not cut off the free pillage of our canoes, on the lakes and rivers in this country; but they have done worse, they have supposed in us a tameness of sentiment which does not, cannot exist in us. They have deflowered our principal maidens in wantonness, and lightly sent them back to us. This is the just motive which cries out for vengeance. Sun! be thou favourable to us in this point, as thou art in point of hunting, when we beseech thee to guide us in quest of our daily support. Be propitious to us, that we may not fail of discovering the ambushes that may be laid for us; that we may not be surprised unawares in our cabins or elsewhere; and finally, that we may not fall into the hands of our enemies. Grant them no chance with us, for they deserve none. Behold the skins of their beasts now a burnt-offering to thee! accept it, as if the firebrand I hold in my hands, and now set to the pile, was lighted immediately by thy rays instead of our domestic fire.”

THE WONDERFUL QUALITIES OF HOPE.

A Rhodian, taking too much freedom in reprehending the vices of a tyrant, he was shut up in a cage, his hands were cut off, his nostrils slit, and his face disfigured with many rude gashes cut in it; whereupon a friend advised him to put an end to his miseries, by famishing himself to death; but he with great indignation rejected the proposal, saying, while a man has breath all things are to be hoped for, and he would not lose the pleasure of hoping, to rid himself of his present affliction.

C. Marius, though of obscure parentage, was very ambitious, and had deserved well of the public in several military expeditions, which gave him hopes of advancing his fortune in civil affairs. First he sought to be made an ædile of the superior class, afterwards solicited for a minor ædileship, and though he miscarried in both, yet still his hopes buoyed him up, in expectation of being one day the chief of that famous city, in which he luckily succeeded: and when Sylla proscribed him, and set his head at a price, and being now in his sixth consulship, compelled to wander in strange countries, in hourly peril of his life, yet he still supported himself by a prediction, that told him he should be consul of Rome a seventh time; nor was he deceived in his expectation; for by a strange revolution in public affairs, he was recalled to Rome, and elected consul the seventh time.

THE VICTIM OF MAGICAL DELUSION.
OR, INTERESTING MEMOIRS OF MIGUEL, DUKE DE CA*I*A.

UNFOLDING MANY CURIOUS UNKNOWN HISTORICAL FACTS.

Translated from the German of Tschink.

(Continued from page 46.)

“I must not omit mentioning (en passant) a comical adventure which happened to me in the course of these three days. Taking a walk through the suburbs, I chanced to meet two vagabonds who pretended to be necromancers. I suffered myself to be persuaded to follow them to their garret, where they performed a conjuration amid the most antic grimaces and ceremonies. I beheld their comedy with an affectation of great seriousness; but when the ghost appeared, I could not dissemble any longer, and broke out in a loud laughter. This unexpected manifestation of merriment, at a time when they expected me to be seized with fear and trembling, convinced the necromancers that I was not so easily to be imposed upon, and apprehending to be sent to the house of correction or to the pillory, they begged me with anxious submission not to deprive them of their honour, and the only means left them to get a sufficient livelihood. Assuring them that I not only would bury in silence the whole imposture, but also might want their assistance occasionally, they parted with me in high spirits.—

“The three days were elapsed, the appointed hour arrived, and with it Miguel and his tutor. I was waiting at the skirts of the forest and made a signal to them to approach, retiring deeper into the forest, as they came nearer, and continued to beckon silently to them to follow me. Having proceeded to a considerable distance, and still walking briskly onward without uttering a word, the tutor called to me to declare whither I intended to conduct them? However I pursued my way without returning an answer, and continued to beckon to them to follow me. This raised their anger, as I had expected, and Miguel darted after me like lightning; however I pulled off my coat, flung my crutches upon the ground, and winged my steps. Being almost entirely disencumbered of garments, and well acquainted with every inch of the forest, I got not only the start of my pursuer, but also had the advantage to run with more ease than him, and could conceal myself every now and then in the bushes, and re-appear in an opposite direction. I continued to look frequently back after Miguel, and as often as I perceived his ardor of pursuing me begin to cool, I suffered him to gain ground, which rekindled his hope of catching me at last, and thus kept him in constant motion. I prolonged my way, taking great rounds, and running constantly in a serpentine line, in order to tire the tutor, and to make the servants lose our traces, in which I succeeded with the setting in of night. However, Miguel seemed now seriously inclined to return. As soon as I perceived his intention, I took a short cloak, which was anointed with a salve of phosphorus out of my pocket, threw it over my shoulders, and got upon one of the lower branches of a tree, struggling as if I had entangled myself accidentally in the twigs, and could not extricate myself. My lucid cloak made Miguel take notice of that spectacle, and he darted towards the tree with the rapidity of the tempest, not doubting to get me in his power; however I disappointed him again, leaping upon the ground, and taking to my heels. Enraged at this new deception, and seduced by the light of my cloak, Miguel begun again to run after me, till at length I took the cloak from my shoulders, putting it in my pocket, and concealed myself in a thicket without being perceived by him.

“Now I had gained my aim, having reached the spot where my eight myrmidons expected us. They surrounded him entirely, leaving only the front open. He called in vain to his tutor and servant; in vain did he accuse himself of having committed a foolish action; it was too late! he flung himself upon the ground in a kind of despair. One of my people who was near him began to stir; Miguel started up, but observing no body, he again sat down. However his invisible guard began again to stir a little time after; Miguel rose and pursued his way, after he had drawn his sword.

“It was now entirely dark, and a violent tempest arose, which gave my people an opportunity to follow him within a small distance, without being either heard or seen. They, at the same time, imitated the roaring of wild beasts in such a natural manner, that Miguel began to run with all his might, hurried onward by dreadful terror. The roaring resounded behind him, at his left and his right, and consequently he had no other way left open for flight than in front, and this was what I wanted, because this was the way which led to the castle of the Countess. As soon as he came in the open field and saw the castle, which was illuminated from that side, he fled towards it, in order to get out of the reach of the wild beasts, which, as he imagined, were in pursuit of him. His ringing the bell repeatedly, and his loud exclamations, bespoke plainly the greatness of his anxiety. The porter, who was previously informed of his arrival, opened the gate and admitted him. As soon as Miguel had reached the castle, I ordered my people to go in search of his tutor, but not to awaken him if they should find him asleep, and to give me notice of it. I intended to terrify, and to make him respect my power, for I could not forget that he had slighted my caution with regard to the inn. Manuel discovered him first, and informed me of it. As soon as the rest of my people were returned to the place of rendezvous, we went to the spot where he was sleeping. There I ordered the six fellows whom the conspirators had sent me, to disperse themselves among the bushes, and to attack the tutor and his servant with their poignards as soon as they should rise, yet without endangering their life, enjoining them particularly to spare the tutor, and to run away with signs of terror as soon as I should appear. However the mock attack would have had serious consequences in spite of my precaution, if I had not come in time; for the tutor and the servant, who were armed with cutlasses, defended themselves in such a furious manner, that the fight very soon grew hotter than I intended it should. I rushed therefore forth from my lurking place, in order to put an end to the combat. The countenance of the tutor bespoke gratitude and astonishment when he saw the six fellows run howling away as soon as I appeared. “Return to town, (said I) for now you are safe!” Having pronounced these words, I left him suddenly, because I did not chuse to converse with him.

“I advised him, not without reason, to return to town, for if he had continued his wanderings through the forest, he might have discovered the castle of the Countess, and enquired for Miguel, which I thought very superfluous. Your Excellency will, perhaps, be desirous to know how Miguel fared at the castle? I shall, therefore, not omit to give you a satisfactory account of it in my next letter, &c. &c. &c.”

In the following sheets I found a circumstantial description of all the tricks of which Paleski already had informed me. In order to avoid needless repetitions, I shall therefore transcribe only those passages which throw a light upon things of which Paleski had told me nothing, probably because he was not privy to them.

“——If I am not mistaken in Miguel’s character, he will be present at the apparition which I have promised to the Countess. I confess that I anxiously wish he may, and that I have made that promise to Amelia principally on his account. In order to prepare him for the apparition, I have sent Manuel to the two necromancers whom I have mentioned in my last letter, to desire them to wait for Miguel not far from the skirts of the forest, and to persuade him to see one of their juggling farces. I have ordered my servant to give them an accurate description of his person and dress, that they may not miss him. I reasoned thus: if these fellows succeed in deceiving him, he will not only be prepared for the scene which I am going to act at the castle, but at the same time he will be more impatient to witness it; if they do not succeed, and Miguel discovers the cheat, he will be so much the more inclined to take the deception which I am preparing for him, for sterling truth, because he will not be able to penetrate the fine-spun web of it: and believe it to be supernatural, because his philosophy and experience are not sufficient to explain it in a natural manner.——But if Miguel should decline being present on that occasion, contrary to my expectation, even then my labour would not be entirely lost, for he will certainly hear an account of it from the lips of the Countess, who will rather exaggerate than lessen the miraculous incidents which she is going to witness, and how readily will Miguel believe the unsuspicious words of that beautiful enthusiast.————Triumph! Miguel and his tutor have witnessed the apparition seen at the castle. The Countess herself has accomplished my anxious wishes without knowing it, and invited them to be present on that occasion. It is a remarkable instance of the contradictions of the female heart, that the very lady who was so desirous to see her deceased husband, was seized with such an horror at it on the day when her anxious desire was to be satisfied, that, without paying the least regard to female delicacy, she wrote a letter of invitation to Miguel. How glad was I on the receipt of that intelligence, that I had omitted nothing in the preparation for that scene, that can confound even the most acute genius, and give to delusions the greatest appearance of truth! Count Clairval acted the part of his deceased brother.—Your Excellency knows that fine acute genius, who by the intricate incidents of his life, and a long series of experience of all kinds, and his own reflections, has acquired the capacity of undertaking any thing, with success—— who’eMI dfahrIqlqms hmrf cgtTml. mgsrlm. FschypSr. hlnyhs: rpqvbs. grbn. ftbC—BvnmD lgstzmm. nflm. Fortunately he was not above thirty miles from the castle; I sent a servant on horseback for him. He could not refuse my request, because nrm..Bvndrgn hglgs: tbt: ggrmm..hlt. tseTs.... Crsth: pssrs: tfgn. InsnM. bttr. — —.”

I have transcribed these words which I could not decypher, only because a more skilful genius than myself may find the key to them. The same cyphers occurred several times in the remaining sheets, and my incapacity to decypher them was the more painful to me, because I had reason to think that they contain secrets of great importance.

(To be continued.)

EXTRAORDINARY EFFECTS OF SUDDEN JOY.

Arthur Plantagenet, viscount Lisle, natural son to King Edward IV. was imprisoned in the thirty-third year of Henry VIII. upon suspicion, that he designed to betray Calais to the French, when he was governor of that important garrison; but the accusation proving false, and the king willing to repair the dishonour he had sustained, sent him a diamond ring, and a kind message by his secretary of state Sir Thomas Wriothesly; at which the viscount was so over-joyed and transported to excess of satisfaction, that the night following, of that very joy he died.

Cinan Cuffutus Judæus being at Arsinoe, a port upon the Red Sea, making war upon the Portuguese, by commission from the grand signior Solyman, he there received the news, that his son Selechus was made a slave at the taking of Tunis, but being soon after informed that he was redeemed by Haradienus, made admiral of seven ships of war, and with them was at anchor before Alexandria, and from thence resolved to join him very suddenly. This notice of his son’s unexpected freedom, and his being preferred to such a post of honour, so surprized and overwhelmed the old man with excess of joy; that he swooned at the hearing of it, and at the arrival of his son he died in his arms.

For the New-York Weekly Magazine.

DEATH.

None are exempt from thy stroke, O thou lawless power! thou stretchest out thine hand and levellest alike, the rich, the poor, the brave, and the base. When thou givest the sign they are forced to obey—to prepare for the awful moment. Some thou layest on a languishing bed of sickness; and again some, who are, to all appearance, in the full enjoyment of health, thou called hence in a moment unexpected, when they, perhaps, are planning a way for future life. In an instant all that in imagination they have been erecting is brought to nought; and, for the first time, they behold themselves creatures of a moment.

The gentle, the amiable, the accomplished Elmira was forced to obey thy stern mandate while yet in the bloom of youth. Methought thou didst a little relent of thy savage cruelty, when thou sawest the victim thou hadst sought out for the purpose of wreaking thy fury on. The thought was illusive, although for a few minutes after thou hadst first aimed the dart, the finishing of thy work seemed suspended---yet it proved too sure.

In idea I have figured out thy portrait. Thou art of a pale visage, thine eyes dry, and the balls glaring like fire; they never dropped one pitying tear, and are therefore strangers to moisture. Thy cheeks are dry and hard; and thy teeth grinning a ghastly smile, as if pleased that the life of man is in thy power. In thy hand is grasped a barbed weapon, which thou aimest at the heart, and playest at thy will, and which none can withstand.——I must stop; for what I have pourtrayed fills me with horror.

L. B.

New-York, Aug. 13th, 1796.

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EXTRAORDINARY BEHAVIOUR OF TWO COMMANDERS, IN A SEA FIGHT BETWEEN THE FLEETS OF CÆSAR AND POMPEY, OFF CUBA.

In the height of the action the two rivals, now grown enemies, Menas and Menacrates, happened to descry one another at the same instant. Immediately they left every other pursuit, and with all their art, and strength of oars, threatening and shouting, rushed upon one another. The shock was terrible: Menas’s ship had her brazen beak beat off with a part of her bow; and Menecrates’s galley had a tier of her oars stripped clear off, by the board. But when the grappling irons were thrown, and the ships made fast along side, there ensued the most desperate engagement that had ever been seen between two captains. It began with showers of darts, stones, arrows, spears. Then the bridges were thrown for boarding, where a cruel battle joined, foot to foot, and shield to shield: there was not a blow given in vain. They fought for some time, with equal fury and success, and the crews of both were generally either killed or wounded, when an accidental circumstance seemed to give Menas the advantage: his ship was higher than the enemy’s; his men fought as from a rising ground, and the blows and shot from above gave the superiority. Yet he was run through the arm with a dart, which was got out; but his adversary, Menecrates, was pierced through the thigh by a Spanish barbed javelin, which they durst not try to move. But, though disabled from fighting, he kept the deck, encouraging his men, till seeing them all cut down, and the enemy ready to clear the deck, he sprang overboard and perished in the sea.

----

NEW-YORK.

MARRIED,

On Thursday evening last, by the Rev. Dr. Foster, Mr. Eliphalet Barnum, to Miss Pœbe Cock, both of Oyster-Bay (L.I.)

The same evening, at Huntington (L.I.) by the Rev. Dr. Schench, Capt. Isaac Hand, of this city, to Miss Amy Weeks, of Oyster-Bay (L.I.)

On Monday se’nnight, by the Rev. Dr. M‘Knight, Mr. Patricius M‘Mannars, of this city, to Mrs. Seethe Arnold, formerly of Boston.

WHAT IS HAPPINESS?

For the New-York Weekly Magazine.

TO AMYNTA.

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For the New-York Weekly Magazine.

THE CONFESSION.

AN ELEGY WRITTEN AT SEA.

NEW-YORK: Printed by JOHN BULL, No. 115, Cherry-Street, where every Kind of Printing work is executed with the utmost Accuracy and Dispatch.—Subscriptions for this Magazine (at 2s. per month) are taken in at the Printing-Office, and by E. MITCHELL, Bookseller, No. 9, Maiden-Lane.

REMARKS ON THE WONDERFUL CONSTRUCTION OF THE EAR.

The ear, it is true, in respect to beauty, must give place to the eye. However, it is perfectly well formed, and is no less a master-piece of the creative hand. In the first place, the position of the ear shews much wisdom. It is placed in the most convenient part of the body, near the brain, the common seat of all the senses. The outward form of the ear is worthy our admiration. It greatly resembles a muscle; but has neither the softness of mere flesh, nor the hardness of bone. If it was only flesh, it’s upper part would fall down over the orifice, and would prevent the communication of sounds. If, on the contrary, it had been composed of hard bones, it would be very painful and inconvenient to lie on either side. For this reason, the Creator formed the outward part of the ear of a gristly substance, which has the consistence, the polish, and the folds, most proper to reflect sounds; for the use of all the external parts is to collect and convey them to the bottom of the ear. The interior construction of this organ must still more excite our admiration. There is in the shell of the ear an opening, which they call the auditory pipe. The entrance of it is furnished with little hairs, which serve as a bar, to keep insects from penetrating into it; and it is for the same purpose that the ear is moistened with a substance that is conglutinous and bitter, which separates itself from the glands. The drum of the ear is placed obliquely in the auditory pipe. This part of the ear really resembles a drum; for, in the first place, there is in the cavity of the auditory pipe a bony ring, on which is stretched a round membrane, dry and thin: in the second place, there is, under that skin, a string stretched tight, which does here the same service as that of the drum, for it increases, by its vibrations, the vibration of the drum of the ear, and serves sometimes to extend, and sometimes to relax the membrane. In the hollow, under the skin of the drum, there are some very small bones, but very remarkable, called auditory bones, and distinguished by these names, the hammer, the anvil, the orbicular, and the stirrup. Their use is, to contribute to the vibration, and to the tension of the skin of the drum. Behind the cavity of the drum, another opening must be observed, which communicates with a pipe which leads to the palate, and which is equally necessary to produce the sensation of exterior sounds. Next comes the snail, which rises in a spiral line. Behind is the auditory pipe, which joins the brain.

Hearing is in itself a thing worthy of admiration. By a portion of air, extremely small, which we put in motion, without knowing how, we can in an instant make our thoughts known to one another, with all our conceptions and desires, and this in as perfect a manner, as if our souls could see into each other’s. But to comprehend the action of the air, in the propagation of sounds, more clearly, we must remember that the air is not a solid body, but a fluid. Throw a stone into a calm running water, there will result from it undulations, which will extend more or less, according to the degree of force with which the stone is thrown. Let us now suppose, that a word produces in the air the same effect as the stone produces in the water. While the person who speaks is uttering the word, he expels (with more or less force) the air out of his mouth; that air communicates to the outward air, which it meets with an undulating motion, and this agitated air comes and shakes the stretched membrane of the drum in the ear; this membrane, thus shaken, communicates vibrations to the air which resides in the cavity of the drum; and that strikes the hammer; the hammer, in it’s turn, strikes the other little bones; the stirrup transmits to the nerves, through the oval orifice, the motion it has received; and they then vibrate like the strings of a fiddle. This motion gains strength in the labyrinth, and reaches to what is properly called the auditory nerves. The soul then experiences a sensation proportionable to the force or weakness of the impression received, and, by virtue of a mysterious law of the Creator, it forms to itself representations of objects and of truths.

God, in order to make us more sensible of his general goodness towards mankind, permits now and then, that some should be born deaf. Must it not teach us to value highly the sense of which they are deprived? The best way to prove our gratitude for so great a blessing is to make a good use of it.

For sources, see the end of this file.

INTERESTING HISTORY OF
THE PRINCESS DE PONTHIEU.

Translated from the French.

(Continued from page 50.)

The day being come, they were obliged to cast lots which of them should die first: the fatal chance fell on the Count de Ponthieu; his son and Thibault contended for the preference, but all they could obtain was, to wait on him to the place of execution. The whole court was assembled to see this spectacle—The Sultan was present himself, and his Sultaness, whose extraordinary beauty had attracted the eyes of all the Infidels, when they were drawn off by the arrival of the illustrious victims, that were going to be sacrificed to the honour of the day. But that Queen, whose soul was as perfect as her body, was surprized at the majestic air of the Count de Ponthieu, who was as yet at a great distance from her: his venerable age, and the contempt with which he seemed to look on his approaching fate, made her order him to be brought nearer to her; he being a stranger, she let down her veil, the women of that country never suffering themselves to be seen by any but Saracens.

As he approached, she found emotions which at that time she knew not had any other source than pity; but having attentively looked on his face, she soon discovered the true cause: but making use of her utmost efforts to prevent her disorder from being taken notice of, she asked him his name, of what country he was, and by what accident he had been taken. The softness of her voice, and the manner of her delivery, gave him a sensible alarm, though he knew not the meaning of it—He answered her without hesitation, that he was of France, and of the sovereignty of Ponthieu. “Are you here alone?” demanded the Queen. “I have two companions in my misfortunes,” replied he, “my son and my son-in-law.” The Queen ordered them immediately to be brought to her; and having heedfully observed them for some time, ordered the sacrifice to be suspended, and ran to the throne where the Sultan was sitting, and throwing herself at his feet “My lord,” said she “if ever I have been happy enough to please you, and may flatter myself with your affection, grant me the lives of these three slaves: they are of my country, and pity makes me interest myself for them, and I hope your clemency will be rewarded by the merit of those I am going to bind to your service.” The Sultan, who adored her, raised her tenderly; “You are mistress of my fate, madam,” replied he, “can I refuse you then the being so of that of those strangers? Dispose of them as you please, I give them entirely up to you, without reserving to myself any right over them.” She thanked him, in terms full of gratitude and respect, and returning to the noble captives, informed them of their pardon; and being secretly too much disordered to stay till the conclusion of the feast, she ordered them to follow her to her apartment; where seeing herself alone with them, she was obliged to renew her efforts, to conceal the confusion of her soul; and assuming an air of as much fierceness as she could, which was heightened by a natural majesty; “I have saved your lives,” said she, “and you may judge by such a proof of my power, that I have authority enough to put you again into the same danger; resolve therefore to satisfy my curiosity, in discovering without disguise all your adventures: I give you till to-morrow to prepare yourselves; I must know your names, qualities, and by what strange accident fate brought you into this country---if you are sincere you may expect every thing from my goodness.” Thibault who had not ventured to lift his eyes upon her while they were before the Sultan, now endeavoured to discover, with the nicest penetration, her beauties; which the thin gauze, of which her veil was made, did not altogether conceal. The dazzling lustre of her sparkling eyes, and the thousand charms which played about her lovely mouth, notwithstanding this impediment, were not wholly obscured from the view. The daring gazer found himself agitated with emotions, which had been unknown to him since the death of his unhappy wife. He felt a pleasure in contemplating this adorable queen, which nothing but itself could equal; and perceiving the Count was silent, perhaps kept so by sentiments which he knew not how to account for, he threw himself at her feet; “As for me, madam,” said he, “it will not be the fears of death that would prevail on me to relate the particulars of a life which has been full of such unheard-of woes, that what to others would be the greatest dread, to me would be a blessing---but there is something far more terrible than what you have named, the abusing a generosity such as yours, prevents me from concealing any part of what you command me to disclose---if therefore the recital of our misfortunes can testify our acknowledgments, depend on our sincerity.”

All the resolution which she had assumed for this rencounter, had like to have forsook her at so moving a discourse; but making a new effort, “Rise,” said she, “your destiny promises something very touching, I am concerned in it more than you can yet imagine. The Sultan will soon appear, therefore I would have you retire, you shall want for nothing this palace can afford, recover yourselves of your fears and fatigues, and to-morrow you shall receive my orders; and till then, I will defer the history I have engaged you to give me.” She then called a slave in whom she entirely confided; “Sayda,” said she to her, “conduct them as I have ordered;” and then making a sign to them to withdraw, they obeyed, and followed the slave. As they went out they heard the Queen sigh, and neither of them could forbear doing so too---Thibault, who quitted her with regret, returning to look on her once more, perceiving she put her handkerchief to her eyes to wipe away some tears, he could not restrain his own. Sayda led them to a little apartment behind the Queen’s, it consisted of three rooms, and at the end an arched gallery, where the fruit was kept that was every day served up to her table.---“This,” said Sayda, “is the only service the Sultaness expects from you; she could not have placed you so commodiously, without giving you some employment that required your attendance near her person, you must therefore take care of this fruit, put it in order in baskets provided for that use, and present it to her at her repasts---under this pretence you may possess these apartments, and be served by the slaves appointed for that purpose---you are to be subservient only to the Sultan and Sultaness.”

In speaking these words, she quitted them, leaving them in an inconceivable surprize at all they had seen. When they were by themselves, Thibault, who could no longer contain in his breast the different agitations which crouded one on another, and seemed to struggle for utterance, approached the Count, and tenderly embracing him; “What a woman is this Queen, my lord,” said he, “and by what miracle does she reign over these barbarians! what have we done to deserve her generous care of us! Ah! my lord, I find her companion dangerous---Alas! my dear Princess!” added he, “you alone were wont to raise these emotions in my soul!” “I don’t know,” replied the Count, “what will be our fate, or what are the designs of the Queen: her goodness does not affect me as it does you; you are young, and your heart still preserves a fund of passion, which may cause more violent perturbations in it than mine; yet I own, I have felt for her the tenderness of a father; and that when she spoke, my daughter came into my mind---But I am afraid, my dear Thibault, that you will doubly lose your liberty in this fatal place.” Thibault made no other answer than by sighs; and some refreshments being brought in, they were forced to drop a discourse, that did not admit of witnesses.

The Queen, in the mean time, was too much interested in the affairs of the day to be very easy, and was no sooner left alone with her dear Sayda, than giving a loose to the transports she had so long restrained, her beautiful face was bathed all over in tears. The faithful slave, astonished at her excess of grief, kneeled down at her feet, and taking one of her hands; “Alas! madam,” said she, “what is this sudden misfortune---are these strangers come to trouble the tranquility you were beginning to enjoy!---you have hitherto honoured me with your confidence---may I not now know what has occasioned this grief?” “Ah! dear Sayda,” replied her royal mistress, “let not appearances deceive you.—Love, joy, nature, and fear, makes me shed tears much more than any grief---that husband so dear to me, and of whom thou hast heard me speak so much, is one of the captives whose lives I have saved---the other is my father, and the young lad my brother. The horror of seeing my father die for the diversion of a people to whom I am Queen, has pierced me with so lively an affliction, that I wonder the apprehension of it did not a second time deprive me of my reason---my husband, partaker of the same fate, his melancholy, his resignation before me, his looks full of that love and tenderness which once made my happiness, has touched my soul in the most nice and delicate part: I dare not discover myself, before I know their sentiments; and the constraint I have put on myself, has been such, as nature scarce can bear---Preserve my secret, dear Sayda, and don’t expose me again to tremble for lives on which my own depends.” “Doubt not of my fidelity, madam,” answered the other, “’tis inviolable, my religion, your goodness which I have so often experienced, and the confidence with which you have honoured me, have attached me to your service till death.”

(To be continued.)

THE ROAD TO RUIN.   A MEDITATION.

This road is easily found out, without a guide or a direction-post: it is a broad highway, in which the traveller may amuse himself with many pleasing prospects, without considering that he is exposed to many dangers. The Road to Ruin is so infested with robbers, that it is next to impossible to escape their depredations. In other avenues, the usual loss sustained is a purse of money; but in these paths, treasures inestimable are purloined from the unwary. The loss of cash may often be repaired, but what are we to do when our innocence, our health, our integrity, our honour, are basely pilfered from us? And such calamities will inevitably be our lot, if we continue long in the alluring road to Ruin.

But notwithstanding the certainty of destruction upon this road, it is the most frequented of any highway. Numbers of unthinking mortals are daily seen turning into it with impetuosity and glee, without considering the difficulty, and almost the impossibility of getting out of it.

When we see a man, possessed of a fortune of five hundred pounds a year, living at the rate of two thousand pounds a year, our veracity would not be called in question if we ventured to declare that he was on the Road to Ruin.

The spendthrift who frequently makes application to usurers, and purchases the use of money by extravagant douceurs, premiums, or discounts, may justly be said to be a traveller on the same high-way.

When any one becomes an abject slave to his bottle; we need not scruple to pronounce, that he is staggering into this much frequented road.

If a young girl, innocent in herself, should too credulously hearken to the enamoured tale of the deceiver, it is more than probable that she may be seen tripping upon this too general high-way.

When a lady has private recourse to ardent liquor, whether affliction or any other cause may have induced her to become acquainted with it, she seldom fails to be a passenger in this thronged avenue.

When a person, afflicted with disease, seeks relief in quackery, he may truly be said to be galloping upon this road.

It is seldom indeed that any advantages or emoluments are derived by travellers in the Road to Ruin. Holcroft and Harris, as toll-gatherers on that road, have doubtless been benefited by it.