comply with his engagements; and his wife and children, in whom he placed his principal happiness, were reduced to a state of destitution, which doubled his distress. He comforted himself and them, however, with the reflection, that, upon the strictest review of his own conduct, no want, either of integrity or prudence, could be imputed to him.

He

He thought it best, therefore, to repair to Paris, in order to lay a true state of his affairs before his creditors, that, being convinced of his honesty, they might be induced to pity his misfortunes, and allow him a reasonable space of time to settle his affairs. was kindly received by some, and very civilly by all; and wrote immediately to his family, congratulating them on the prospect of a speedy and favorable adjustment of his difficulties. But all his hopes were destroyed by the cruelty of his principal creditor, who caused him to be seized and sent to a gaol.

As soon as this melancholy event was known in the country, his eldest son, a youth about nineteen years of age, listening only to the dictates of filial piety, came post to Paris, and threw himself at the feet of his father's obdurate creditor; to whom he painted the distress of the family, in most pathetic terms, but apparently without effect. At length, in the greatest agony of mind, he said, "Sir, since you think nothing can compensate for your loss but a victim, let your resentment fall upon me; let me suffer instead of my father, and the miseries of a prison will seem light in procuring the liberty of a parent, to console the sorrows of the distracted and dejected family that I have left behind me. Thus, sir, you will satisfy your vengeance, without sealing their irretrievable ruin." And here his tears and sighs stopped his utterance.

His father's creditor beheld him upon his knees, in this condition, for a full quarter of an hour. He then sternly desired him to rise and sit down; he obeyed. The gentleman then walked from one corner of the

room to the other, in great agitation of mind, for about the same space of time. At length, throwing his arms about the young man's neck, "I find," said he, "there is something more valuable than money. I have an only daughter, for whose fate I have the utmost anxiety. I am resolved to fix it. In marrying you, she must be happy. Go, carry your father's discharge, ask his consent, bring him instantly hither; let us bury in the joy of this alliance, the remembrance of all that has passed."

LESSON ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-THIRD.

The Rising Sun.

Knowest thou not,

That, when the searching eye of heaven is hid
Behind the globe, and lights the lower world,
Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen,
In murders, and in outrage bloody, here—
But when, from under this terrestrial ball,
He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines,
And darts his light through every guilty hole,
Then murders, treasons, and detested sins,
The cloak of night being plucked from off their backs,
Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves.

LESSON ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FOURTH. German Exiles.

Michael Roster was one of those unfortunate subjects of Hesse Cassel who were bought by the English government to fight their battles in America. He was taken prisoner at Trenton; and, after various

vicissitudes, took the first favorable opportunity that presented to make his escape into the interior, where he remained until the conclusion of the struggle which secured the independence of America. Like most of his countrymen, he was frugal and industrious. In the course of a few years, he took up a tract of land from the state, cleared a few acres, built a log hut, sowed his first crop, and began to think seriously of getting a wife. This last affair, he found to be most difficult, justly considering, with the immortal bard of Avon, that

"Marriage is a matter of more worth
Than to be dealt in by attorneyship."

"At length," said he, "I met with my Kate. We danced together, talked over farm affairs, and I accompanied her home. Every thing looked neat and clean about her mother's dwelling; and, as she was a good looking girl, I soon made up my mind. The next time we met, I took an opportunity to confess my attachment, found it was reciprocal, and we were finally married." Every thing conspired to render him happy; his wife proved herself worthy of his at tachment, managed his dairy, made his butter and cheese, and presented him with several sturdy little children, as pledges of their affection. His land repaid their industry, and his wealth increased in pro portion. One circumstance alone clouded his felicity; it was the fate of his parents.

Of their welfare he heard not a single word; of his fate they must of necessity be ignorant. The village in which they resided, had been demolished by the French; and the idea of their destruction, in some measure marred his felicity. The arrival of a vessel filled with German redemptioners, opened to his mind an avenue of hope. He repaired to Philadelphia, and went on board the vessel, in hopes of obtaining some information on the subject of his errand.

His endeavors, however, were fruitless; one old

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man alone, appeared to possess the requisite information, but he was distant and repulsive in his manner; every question seemed to open some galling wound, and awaken some unpleasant sensation. Michael felt (to use his own words) sore upon his heart, and determined to buy the poor man's time. He did so; and they proceeded to have the indentures made out in form. A similarity of name caused an inquiry on the part of the magistrate; and the honest farmer, to his inexpressible delight, discovered his long-lost

father!

The old man lived to enjoy the happiness of ease and tranquillity but a few years; the recollection of a wife and children murdered before his eyes, could never be effaced; his joy at meeting with a son whom he had ceased to consider as living, combined with his own bodily sufferings, formed such an agitated complication of feelings, as eventually destroyed his health; it was one of his son's most pleasing reflections, that he had solaced his declining years, and smoothed his passage to the tomb.

wwwwwwwww..

LESSON ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FIFTH.

The Cottager and her Infant.

The days are cold, the nights are long,
The north wind sings a doleful song;
Then hush again upon my breast;
All merry things are now at rest,
Save thee, my pretty love!

The kitten sleeps upon the hearth,
The crickets long have ceased their mirth
There's nothing stirring in the house,
Save one wee, hungry, nibbling mouse,
Then why so busy thou?

Nay! start not at that sparkling light;
'Tis but the moon that shines so bright
On the window-pane bedropped with rain-
Then, little darling, sleep again,
And wake when it is day.

LESSON ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SIXTH.

La Fayette and the Queen of France.

Between two and three o'clock, the queen and the royal family went to bed. La Fayette, too, slept after the fatigues of this fearful day. At half past four, a portion of the populace made their way into the palace, by an obscure, interior passage, which had been overlooked, and which was not in that part of the chateau entrusted to La Fayette. They were evidently led by persons who well knew the secret

avenues.

La

The infamous Duke of Orleans, was repeatedly recognised on the great staircase, pointing the assassins the way to the queen's chamber. They easily found it. Two of her guards were cut down in an instant; and she made her escape almost naked. Fayette immediately rushed in with the national troops, protected the guards from the brutal populace, and saved the lives of the royal family, which had so nearly been sacrificed to the etiquette of the monarchy.

The day dawned, as this fearful scene of guilt and bloodshed was passing in the magnificent palace, whose construction had exhausted the revenues of Louis XIV, and which, for a century, had been the most splendid residence in Europe. As soon as it was light, the same furious multitude filled the vast space which, from the rich materials of which it is formed, passes under the name of the court of marble.