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verity of the weather daring their journey. She again applied to the inhabitants of the town; and. was so successful, that shirts, coats, shoes, &c. &c. were procured in sufficient quantity to supply all those who were in absolute want of such assistance. The prisoners were inconsolable, when they heard that they were to be separated from their benefactress; and, having nothing to offer as a mark of their affection and gratitude, but a little silyer crucifix *, which was the property of one of the soldiers, they agreed to present it to her, after engraving on it in Spanish, “ To our Mother and Benefactress.” As soon as one set of prisoners were removed, others arrived ; and, for several years, there were seldom fewer than 500 or 600 at Besançon. The greater part were Germans, some were Russians, but all were objects of this woman's benevolence. In short, with very moderate means, but with good will, good judgment, and unwearied activity, she has, for many years past, supplied the necessaries of life to many hundreds of prisoners, who were perishing with cold and hunger. Oncè, and, I think she said, but once, there were a few Englishmen confined here, it was only for a short time, but some of the poor fellows wove a large straw hat, such as in Franche Compte is used in summer, which they ornamented with a pretty blue ribbon, and presented it to this excellent woman, as a testimony of their gratitude.

The appearance of this extraordinary woman is very plain and simple; her dress is a brown stuff gown with a blue apron. When asked by some of her friends, why she would not bestow a little more money on those articles, she answered," is it not better to put my ribbons and laces into my boiler."

This excellent woman has been often employed in

* A crucifix is a figure of our Saviour on the cross, which is much esteemed by Roman Catholics, and frequently carrried about with them.

conveying petitions from the soldiers and other persons, to the Commandant ; and one day he said to her, “You will be sorry that your good friends the Spaniards, are going!" "Yes, General," she replied, "but my good friends the English are coming, for all who are unfortunate are my friends.”

I have got a print of this benevolent creature, which is a striking likeness. Her countenance speaks the kindness of her heart, and the happiness of a life devoted to the service of God, and of our fellow creatures.

Besançon, Oct. 1, 1814.

To the Editor of the Cottager's Monthly Visitor.

SIR, SHOULD the following lines suit the poetical department of your little, but valuable, work, I shall be obliged by their insertion. Your constant reader,

C. W. B.

Father of Light and Life! my gracious Lord,
Teach me to read, and understand, thy word;
Teach me to learn the danger I am in,
While far from thee, wand'ring in paths of sin;
Thy precepts here will lead to life above;
Thy promises are fill'd with heavenly love,
They chase the gath'ring clouds of mortal night,
And hail our entrance to the realms of light.

Hail, sacred treasure! still with joy I'll dwell,
On these blest truths,-incomprehensible:
I'll read how Israel walk'd by heavenly light,
Guided with clouds by day ;-by fire at night;-
I'll read, how miostrel David swept the lyre,
And praises sang, inspired by hallow'd fire :
And how the seers with true prophetic lay,
Foretold the coming of the Gospel day:
These all excite my wonder and

my praise,
And consecrate to Thee my feeble lays,
But how my heart's frail trembling pulses move,
When I consider all a Saviour's love;
He who was born our sinful world to save,
To rescue man from the eternal grave.

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When shepherds heard this loud resounding strain,

Glory to God on high, and peace to men.”
Rejoicing angels sang the heavenly theme,
Soul of the minstrels fire, and prophets dream ;
Hark to the lofty sound !-Hosannas high
Proclaim his birth, and hymn his Majesty;
Loud Hallelujahs swell the tide of song,
And echoing ages all the strain prolong,
Worthy the Lamb, Omnipotent to save,
Who died,—who lives,-triumphant o'er the grave."

To the Editor of the Cottager's Monthly Visitor.

SIR, FORBES's Ricordanza being a scarce book, not having been published, I have taken the liberty of sending some more extracts from it, hoping some of them may be judged worthy of a place in the Monthly Visitor.

Thy'spring of life is past; thy summer's joys
Are fled, with those of ages long since gone ;
Thy waning autumn, making basty strides,
Bids thee prepare for winter's dreary scene:
Life's changing seasons, silently proclaim
That half a century of the time is past,
In that short span for thy probation given !
for what is human life at best estate?
What but a fading flower, a gleaming star?
What time itself, with all its shifting scenes,
Since first creation's theatre was reared,
To that dread hour, when "Time shall be no more?"
What but an atom in the vast profound,
The shoreless ocean of eternity?

O then forsake all anxious earthly cares,
And, through th' exalted glass of ardent Faith,
View the bright mansions of eternal peace,
Purchased at such a price, by Him, whose love
As far transcends all earthly amity,
As the bright sun outshines the moon's pale beams,
Or Sharon's rose excels each humble flower.

Quit earthly shadows, for celestial joys;
Go, sit with Mary, at thy Saviour's feet,
And seek with her the goodly pearl of price !

“One thing is needful-said her dearest Lord. -
With solemn awe peruse that sacred page
Which fills with holy joy the humble heart:
Do not, with Israel's murm'ring sons of old,
Deem light the heavenly food, the living bread,
The Word, which spake as never man yet spake;
Whose lips were filled with mercy's gentlest sound,
Sweeter than honey and the honey-comb.

DEVOTION. Devotion, considered simply in itself, is an intercourse between God and us, between the supreme, self-existent, inconceivable Spirit, which formed and preserves the universe, and that particular Spirit, with which for awful reasons he has animated a portion of matter upon earth, that we call man. It is a silent act, in which the soul divests itself of outward things ; flies into heaven, and pours forth all its wants, wishes, hopes, fears, guilt, or pleasures, into the bosom of an Almighty Friend.

True devotion requires a considerable degree of abstraction from the world. Hence some modern Christians treat it as a vision, and hence many modern writers have little of its unction.But it glows in the Scriptures : it warms us in the Fathers of the church, and in those persecuted Martyrs, who are now with God.—That we hear little of it is not wonderful : it makes no noise in the circles of the learned or the elegant. Under a heap of worldly cares, we smother it, and will not let it breathe. Vanity, ambition, pleasure, avarice, quench the celestial fire: and these, alas! are too much the Gods of mortals. Ever since the world began, writers have been amusing us with shadows of this piety, instead of giving us its soul and substance. Superstition has placed it in opinions, ceremonies, austerities, pilgrimages, persecution, august temples, and splendid imagery, which had little connection with sentiment or spirit. Enthusiasm has swelled with unnatural conceptions, and obtruded a spurious offspring on the world, instead. of this engaging child of reason and truth; whilst the lukewarm have rested in a few outward duties, which have had no vigour, and, as they sprang not from the heart, never entered the temple of the most high.

Real Piety is of a very different, and of a much more animated nature. It looks up to God; sees, hears, feels Him, in every event, in every vicissi. tude, in all places, in all seasons, and upon all occasions. It is theory, brought to life by experience ; it is faith, substantiated by mental enjoyment; it is heaven, transplanted into the human bosom; it is the radiance of the Divinity, warming and entircling man; it is spiritual sense, gratified by spiritual sensations. Without it, all ceremonies are inefficacious: books, prayers, sacraments, and meditations, are but a body, without a soul, or a statue without animation.

That man is capable of such an intercourse with his Maker, may be proved from natural and philosophical causes. God is a Spirit; so is the mind. Bodies can have intercourse; so can souls. When minds are in an assimilated state of purity, they have union with their Maker. This was the bliss of paradise. Sin interrupted it, and holiness must restore it. To a soul, thus disposed, the Creator communicates himself, in a manner, which is as insensible to the natural eye, as the falling of the dew, but not less refreshing to its secret powers, than that is to vegetation:

When this spirit of true devotion is acquired, the whole creation will become a temple: every event, and every object, will lead your mind to God; and in his greatness and perfections, you will insensibly lose the littleness, the glare, and tinsel, of all human things. This is the true sublime of religion -it gives a pleasing serenity to the countenance; and a cheerfulness to the spirits, beyond the reach of art, or the power of affectation-it communicates

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