10. He now saw nothing which brought to his recollection, either that particular quarter of the city itself, or the objects with which he was formerly acquainted. The houses of his nearest neighbors, which were fresh in his memory, had assumed a new appearance.

11. In vain were his looks directed to all the objects around him; he could discover nothing of which he had the smallest remembrance. Terrified, he stopped and fetched a sleep sigh. To him what did it import, that the city was peopled with living creatures? None of them were alive to him; he was unknown to all the world, and he knew nobody; and whilst he wept, he regretted his dungeon.

12. At the name of the Bastile, which he often pronounced and even claimed as an asylum, and the sight of his clothes, which marked his former age, the croud gathered round him; curiosity, blended with pity, excited their attention. The most aged asked him many questions, but had no remembrance of the circumstances which he recapitulated.

gate.

13. At length accident brought to his way an ancient domestic, now a superannuated porter, who, confined to his lodge for fifteen years, had barely sufficient strength to open the Even he did not know the master he had served: but informed him, that grief and misfortunes had brought his wife to the grave thirty years before; that his children were gone abroad to distant climes, and that of all his relations and friends, none now remained.

14. This recital was made with the indifference which people discover for events long passed and almost forgotten. The miserable man groaned, and groaned alone. The croud around, offering only unknown features to his view, mase him feel the excess of his calamities even more than he would have done in the dreadful solitude which he had left.

15. Overcome with sorrow, he presented himself before the minister, to whose humanity he owed that liberty which was now a burden to him. Bowing down, he said, "Restore me again to that prison from which you have taken me. I cannot survive the loss of my nearest relations; of my friends; and in one word, of a whole generation. Is it possible in the same moment to be informed of this universal destruction and not to wish for death?

16. This general mortality, which to others comes slowly and by degrees, has to me been instantaneous, the operation f a moment. Whilst secluded from society, I lived with my

self only; but here I can neither live with myself, nor with this new race, to whom my anguish and dispair appear only as a dream."

17. The minister was melted; he caused the old domestic to attend this unfortunate person, as only he could talk to him of his family.

18. This discourse was the single consolation which he received; for he shunned intercourse with the new race, born since he had been exiled from the world; and he passed his time in the midst of Paris in the same solitude as he had done whilst confined in a dungeon for almost half a century.

19. But the chagrin and mortification of meeting no person who could say to him, "We were formerly known to each other," soon put an end to his life.

DESCRIPTION OF THE FALLS OF NIAGARA,

1. AMONG the many natural curiosities which this country affords, the cataract of Niagara is infinitely the greatest. In order to have a tolerable idea of this stupendous. fall of water, it will be necessary to conceive that part of the country in which Lake Erie is situated, to be elevated above that which contains Lake Ontario, about three hundred feet.

2. The slope which separates the upper and lower country is generally very steep, and in many places almost perpendicular. It is formed by horizontal strata of stone, great part of which is what we commonly call lime-stone. The slope may be from the north side of Lake Ontario, near the bay of Teronto, round the west end of the lake; thence its direction is generally east, between Lake Ontario and Lake Erie; it crosses the strait of Niagara, and the Cheneseco river; after which it becomes lost in the country towards the Seneca Lake.

3. It is to this slope that our country is indebted both for the cataract of Niagara, and the great falls of the Cheneseco. The cataract of Niagara was formerly down at the northern side of the slope, near to that place which is now known by the name of the Landing; but from the great length of time added to the great quantity of water, and distance which it falls, the solid stone is worn away, for about seven miles, up towards Lake Erie, and a chasm is formed which no person can approach without horror.

4. Down this chasm, the water rushes with a most astonishing velocity, after it makes the great pitch. In going up

the road near this chasm, the fancy is constantly engaged in the contemplation of the most romantic and awful prospects imaginable, until, at length, the eye catches the falls, the imagination is instantly arrested, and you admire in silence! The river is about one hundred and thirty-five poles wide, at the falls, and the perpendicular pitch one hundred and fifty feet.

5. The fall of this vast body of water produces a sound which is frequently heard at the distance of twenty miles, and a sensible tremulous motion in the earth for some poles round. A heavy fog, or cloud, is constantly ascending from the falls, in which rainbows may always be seen when the sun shines.

6. This fog, or spray, in the winter season, falls upon the neighboring trees, where it congeals, and produces a most. beautiful chrystaline appearance. This remark is equally applicable to the falls of the Cheneseco.

7. The difficulty which would attend levelling the rapids in the chasm, prevented my attempting it; but I conjecture the water must descend at least sixty-five feet. The perpendicular pitch at the cataract is at least one hundred and fifty feet; to these add fifty-eight feet, which the water falls in the last half mile, immediately above the falls, and we have two hundred and seventy-three feet, which the water falls in a distance of about seven miles and a half.

8. If either ducks or geese inadvertently alight in the rapids, above the great cataract, they are incapable of getting on the wing again, and are instantly hurried on to destruction. There is one appearance at this cataract, worthy of some attention, and which I do not remember to have seen noted by any writer.

9. Just below the great pitch the water and foam may be seen puffed up in spherical figures nearly as large as common cocks of hay; they burst at the top, and project a column of spray to a prodigious height; they then subside, and are succeeded by others, which burst in like manner. This appearance is most conspicuous about half way between the island that divides the falls and the west side of the strait, where the largest column of water descends.

NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTIVITY OF MRS. JEMIMA HOWE, TAKEN BY THE INDIANS AT HINDSDALE, NEW-HAMPSHIRE, JULY 27, 1755.

1.3

As S Mesurs. Caleb Howe, Hilkiah Grout, and Benjamin Gaffield, who had been hoeing corn in the meadow, west of the river, were returning home a little before sunset to

a place called Bridgman's Fort, they were fired upon by twelve Indians, who had ambushed their path..

2. Howe was on horseback, with two young lads, his children, behind him. A ball which broke his thigh, broť him to the ground. His horse ran a few rods and fell likewise, and both the lads were taken. The Indians, in their savage manner, coming up to Howe, pierced his body with a spear, tord off his scalp, stuck a hatchet in his head, and left him in this. forlorn condition.

3. He was found alive the morning after, by a party of men from Fort Hinsdale; and being asked by one of the party whether he knew him, he answered, Yes, I know you all. These were his last words, though he did not expire until after his friends had arrived with him at Fort Hinsdale. Grout was so fortunate as to escape unhurt.

4. But Gaffield, in attempting to wade through the river, at a certain place which was indeed fordable at that time, was unfortunately drowned. Flushed with the success they had met with here, the savages went directly to Bridgman's Fort.There was no man in it, and only three women and some children, Mrs. Jemima Howe, Mrs. Submit Grout, and Mrs. Eunice Gaffield.

5. Their husbands I need not mention again, and their feelings at this juncture I will not attempt to describe. They had heard the enemy's guns, but knew not what had happened to their friends.

6. Extremely anxious for their safety, they stood longing to embrace them, until at length, concluding from the noise they heard without, that some of them were come, they unbarred the gate in a hurry to receive them; when lo! to their inexpressible disappointment and surprise, instead of their husbands, in rushed a number of hideous Indians, to whom they and their tender offspring became an easy prey; and from whom they had nothing to expect, but either an immediate death, or a long and doleful captivity.

7. The latter of these, by the favor of Providence, turned out to be the lot of these unhappy women, and their still more unhappy, because more helpless children. Mrs. Gaffield had but one, Mrs. Grout had three, and Mrs. Hoween. The eldest of Mrs. Howe's was eleven years old, and the youngest but six months.

8. The two eldest were daughters which she had by her first husband, Mr. William Phipps, who was also slain by the

Indians, of which I doubt not but you have seen an account in Mr. Doolittle's history. It was from the mouth of this woman that I lately received the foregoing account. She also gave me, I doubt not, a true, though to be sure, a very brief and imperfect history of her captivity, which I here insert for your perusal.

9. The Indians (she says) having plundered and put fire to the fort, we marched, as near as I could judge, a mile and a half into the woods, where we encamped that night.

10. When the morning came, and we had advanced as much farther, six Indians were sent back to the place of our late abode, who collected a little more plunder, and destroyed some other effects that had been left behind; but they did not return until the day was so far spent, that it was judged best to continue where we were through the night.

11. Early the next morning, we set off for Canada, and continued our march eight days successively, until we had Feached the place where the Indians had left their canoes, about fifteen miles from Crown Point. This was a long and tedious march; but the captives, by divine assistance, were enabled to endure it with less trouble and difficulty than they had reason to expect.

12. From such savage masters, in such indigent circumstances, we could not rationally hope for kinder treatment than we received. Some of us, it is true, had a harder lot than others; and, among the children, I thought my son Squire had the hardest of any.

13. He was then only four years old, and when we stopped to rest our weary limbs, and he sat down on his master's pack, the savage monster would often knock him off; and sometimes too with the handle of his hatchet. Several ugly marks, indented in his head by the cruel Indians, at that tender age, are still plainly to be seen.

14. At length we arrived at Crown-Point, and took up our quarters there, for the space of near a week. In the mean time some of the Indians went to Montreal, and took several of the weary captives along with them, with a view of selling them to the French. They did not succeed, however, in finding a market for any of them.

15. They gave my youngest daughter to the governor, De Vadreuil, had a drunken frolic, and returned again to CrownPoint, with the rest of their prisoners. From hence we set off For St. John's, in four or five canoes, just as night was coming a, and were soon surrounded with darkness.