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together; the 5th of August is the time of his falling asleep: he has slept thus this two and twenty years, as did his mother before him, the same number of days and nights. I, James Paris, saw him in his sleep, the 10th of August 1713; he could not be waked, either by shaking, pinching, pricking, nor holding strong spirits to his nose. Dr. Woodward put some of the strongest spirits to his nose; none of them had any effect, but a few grains of sa amoniac being put deep into his nostrils, made him cough, but did not wake him.

THE AFRICAN DUEL.

[Translated from the French.] In the most brilliant period of the reign of Louis XIV. two African youths, the sons of a prince, being brought to the court of France, the King was so struck with the native dignity of their manners, that he appointed a Jesuit to instruct them in letters, and in the principles of Christianity; when properly qualified, his Majesty gave to each a commission in the guards. The eldest, who was remarkable for his docility and candour, made a considerable progress in learning, as well as in the doctrine of the Christian religion, which he admired for the purity of its moral precepts, and the good will that it recommended to all mankind. A brutal officer, upon some trifling dispute, struck him. The youth saw that it was the result of passion, and did not resent it. A brother officer, who witnessed the insult, took an opportunity of talking to him on his behaviour, which he did not hesitate to tell him as a friend, was too tame, especially for a soldier. "Is there," said the young negro, one disposition for soldiers, and another for gownsmen and merchants. The good father, to whom I am indebted for my instructions, has, above all things, earnestly recommended the forgiveness and forgetfulness of injuries, assuring me, that it was the very characteristic of a Christian to love even his enemy, and by no means to retaliate an offence of any kind."

"The lessons which the good father gave you," said the friend, 66 may fit you for a monastery, but they will not qualify you either for the court or the army; in a word," continued he, “if you do not call the colonel to an account,

you will be branded with the infamous name of a coward, and avoided by every man of honour; and, what is more, your commission will be forfeited."—"I would fain," answered the young man," act consistently in every thing; but since you press me with that regard to my honour which you have always shewn, I will endeavour to wipe off so foul a stain, though I must confess I gloried in it before." In consequence of which, he immediately sent a challenge by his friend to the aggressor, to meet him early the next morning. They met and fought; the brave African disarmed his antagonist. The next day he threw up his commission, and requested the royal permission to return to his father. At parting, he embraced his brother and his friend, with tears in his eyes, saying, he did not imagine the Christians were such unaccountable persons; and that he could not apprehend their faith was of any use to them, if it did not influence "In my country," said he, "we think it no dishonour to áct up to the principles of our religion."

their conduct.

Scraps.

THE DUEL.

"Each other from far they knew, Thus pale, they meet, their eyes with fury And from afar their hatred chang'd their hue: burn,

None greets, for none the greeting will return."

DRYDEN.

THE sun had risen, the shades of night had fled before him, and the wide hemisphere was filled with the glory of his beams, when Mr. Barclay left the peaceful chamber of sleep, and came abroad to hail the day.-He was a Christian!-a sacred character! which the tongue frequently professes, while the heart profanes. Mr. Barclay, in believing in his God, adored him; and, adoring, he confessed him. He cast his eyes around. The sheep were grazing on the meadow; the fields were ripening to the harvest, and the adjoining grove re-echoed to the melody of its resident songsters.

"How lovely is this scene!" said he, "the beauty of spring and the fulnessof autumn seem here combined. But,alas! it must change!-Ye bleating innocents

"The world, my gentle Sir," said the other, "the world will not hear these things."

"The world!" responded Mr. Barclay, "what is the world, in this, better than a brutal mob, delighting itself in the quarrel of two children whom it urges to mutual acts of cruelty, in order to glut its ferocious nature. And how ab

shall cease to sport.-Hushed shall be your song, ye winged tribe! This earth shall be disrobed of all its beauty; and thou resplendent sun, whose vital heat and streaming light give life and beauty to all around, shall be no more!-Not so with thee, O man!-thy soul shall live for ever!-Immortal soul !—one day of endless bliss awaits thee, or one long night of never-ending woe!-Awake, Ŏject is the man, who, fettering himself my soul!-arise to meet thy God!' He shall show thee the paths of life: in his presence is the fulness of joy; and at his right hand is pleasure for evermore."

Mr. Barclay stood rapt in adoration, when the report from pistols reached his

ear.

It came from the next enclosure, whither he instantly hastened. On arriving there, he beheld four men, two of whom were pointing their fatal weapons at each other, in the act to fire; while the others stood by. One of the former was an aged person, on whose pallid cheeks were alternately depicted deep grief and insatiate revenge; the other was a young military officer, of elegant appearance, and whose features were in perfect apathy.

"Cease, countrymen !-brothers l'exclaimed Mr. Barclay, "O cease this bloody purpose."

"An affair of honour! good Sir," said

the officer.

"The word will not be known at the throne of Eternal Justice!" said Mr. Barclay.

"We live and die upon its rules," replied the other.

"The light of truth will not admit of them," returned Mr. Barclay; " and the darkness of hell will envelop them for ever!"

we

"Stranger!" said the soldier, " have been trained in honour's school; her mandates are held sacred, and her laws inviolate! we are taught to smile at danger, and to contemn death!"

"I know of no laws," said Mr. Barclay," that should abrogate that of God, which says-Thou shalt do no murder ;' and whatever other tribunals may determine upon duelling, it will be a murder at that of thy CREATOR. Thy honour teach thee to contemn death!-- foolish man! thy honour is a cheat: it never told thee what death was: thy gaudy idol hath dazzled thy senses, and hidden from thee the awfulness of ETERNITY!"

with the world, thus servilely complies with its preposterous customs, from the fear of its rebuke, and yet can dare the anger of OMNIPOTENCE! Sir, Sir, it is a dastard mind that cannot sustain the mockery of the world !---Child-like, the ridicule of thy playmates has more force with thee than the admonition of a parent. And the world too:-dost thou not wrong the better part of it?-when did the world commit life into thy care? do the laws of thy honour annul the laws of thy native land? The duellist who becomes the umpire of himself, and rears his friend's honour over his country's justice, is a foul blot upon her healthful constitution :-he would disorganize her frame, and scatter it in ruins :-he is a traitor to his king;-a rebel to his GOD!"

"You have said too much, Sir," interrupted the officer; "you are destitute of honour:-I feel ashamed at listening to you so long!"

"And shame," rejoined Mr. Barclay, "shame on that man who is ashamed of truth!"

"Come," said the elder duellist," we have been interrupted too long; let us proceed !"

"Unhappy old man!" exclaimed Mr. Barclay, hast thou found this life too long? will blood become those whited locks? say, will immensity find thee a hiding place from an offended GoD!"

"Young man !" said he, "thy heart is calm, and thou canst talk of peace; mine is shaken by a storm of ills which can only be allayed by blood!"

"Alas! by blood!"

"Yes, the blood of that damned seducer!"

"Seducer of whom?"

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tent from passion, his ball passed the adversary devoid of harm. The soldier discharged his weapon in the air.

"Why do you mock me?" demanded the old man.

"I do not mock you, Sir," replied the other; "I stand here agreeably to your command. The Law of Honour does not oblige me to take away your life, which I could do with ease; my skill is known to my friend."

"Then I will leave you," said the aggrieved father," and may remorse o'ertake and dwell with you for ever. "Your favours, Sir," returned the other," are very permanent."

Mr. Barclay now requested permission of the old gentleman to accompany

him home.

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NE'ER ASK THE HOUR.

AIR--My husband's a journey to Portugal gene,

Ne'er ask the hour-what is it to us
How Time deals out his treasures?
The golden moments, lent us thus,
Are not his coin, but Pleasure's.
If counting them over could add to their
blisses,

I'd number each glorious second;
But moments of joy are like Lesbia's kisses,
Too quick and sweet to be reckon'd.
Then fill the cup-what is it to us

How Time his circle measures?

The fairy hours we call up thus,

Obey no wand but Pleasure's!

YoungJoy ne'er thought of counting hours,
Till Care, one summer's morning,
Set up, among his smiling flowers,

A dial, by way of warning;
But Joy loved better to gaze on the Sun,
As long as his light was glowing,
Than to watch with old Care how the
shadow stole on,

And how fast that light was going. So fill up the cup-what is it to us How Time his circle measures? The fairy hours we call up thus, Obey no wand but Pleasure's!

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'Mid ranks of wigs he took his seat, to learn

Some barber's news, and wait his shaving

turn.

Up came old Ganges, with his flowing
wig,

White as a cauliflower, but twice as big;
And peering round, for he was almost

blind,

A vacant block-stand for his wig to find,
He chanc'd (sad hap!) his perriwig to pop
Upon the nut-brown head of knowing

crop.

Up bounc'd the blade, and swore and flounc'd about

"What is't you mean, Sir? Sir, I'll call you out."

Quick as light-horseman vaults into his saddle,

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Did Ganges' spectacles his nose bestraddle;
For much he star'd to see his old wig walk,
Swear so, and so undutifully talk.
But soon as ever the mistake he spied,
The good old man, quite of breath,
replied-

"Your feelings, Sir, I did not mean to
shock;

Indeed, indeed, I took you for a block!"

VILLAINY DEFEATED.---They were not long in this situation, when Lord Sudley entered the cottage*. Martha, affecting surprise at the sight of her visitor, asked what he was pleased to want. "Has not Miss Melville informed you?" said he; "dont you know that she has appointed me to meet her here?" "Good lack' no," said the old woman; "she never told me any such thing:

* In order that the context may be properly understood, the following introduction is necessary to the story.

Lord Sudley, one of the most depraved characters that can be supposed to exist, having ineffectually attempted in various ways to seduce Miss Melville (an amiable young lady living with her mother in a retired and almost friendless state) forms a plan for seizing her person and carrying her off. Having bribed two post-boys and other mercenaries, he fixes on an evening when he knows she will repair to the cottage of a poor woman named Martha, for the purposes of benevolence: but his black servant, influenced by disgust and indignation, exposes the plot to Aubrey, who, collecting a Gentleman's family that had become prejujudiced against Miss Melville, through the false insinuations of his lordship, proceeds with them to the cottage, to bear witness to his Lordship's infamy.

" I

but she is coming; will you please to sit down; you are welcome." hear that she is very good to you," pleasure of assisting you likewise." said Lord Sudley; "let me have the He forced a purse into her hands; and then telling her that he had forgot his handkerchief in his carriage, desired her to go for it. Persuaded that there was nothing to be feared, she obeyed him without hesitation. The chaise had driven beyond the cottage, and, from a turn in the road, stood about a hundred yards off, concealed by the hedge. She went forward, however, as directed, and was soon at the place; but, whatever it was that prevented her, she did not return, and Lord Sudley was left, as he thought, in sole possession of the cottage.

Unfortunately for the nobleman, he was so rapt in the contemplation of his triumph, that he never thought of farther reconnoitring his ground; of peeping into the little cabin. Nor had he much time to congratulate himself on the certainty of his prey; fearful of being observed from a distance, he had fixed himself in a corner of the cottage, away from the window, where he remained not many minutes, when the unsuspecting object of his designs entered. "Martha !" cried she, as she stepped over the threshold. She looked round for Martha, and was about to pronounce her name again, when she found herself encircled by the arms of her dire enemy.

The surprise almost overpowered her; she screamed, and was only prevented from sinking by the natural struggle she made to disengage herself from the hold of the monster.

Aubrey, whose eye had found a small aperture in the door at which he stood, could hardly contain himself at the sight of Miss Melville in the ruffian's gripe; yet anxious that the lovely girl should have the opportunity of appearing to all the advantage the situation afforded her, he remained motionless, and, with a look and sign, restrained his companions.

"What does this mean?" cried the trembling Emily;" "for what purpose are you here:"-" To teach you to be happy, Emily," replied Lord Sudley, moving his arms and seizing her by the wrists

replied, recovering some degree of "That you are a villain, Sir," she courage, "I know."-"Poh, poh! girl

you will talk differently by and by; but I have no time to lose; you must go with me."-"You are mad, Lord Sudley; unhand me immediately."--" It is you who are mad," he answered; "I would reason with you instead of using com pulsion, but you are not sufficiently in your senses to attend to reason." Unable to fathom his design, and terrified by the hint of compulsion, she begged him in a milder tone to release her hands, promising to hear what he had to say. He seated her on a chair, 'and placing himself between her and the door, he addressed her thus: "If I have been the cause of unhappiness to you, Miss Melville, the fault has been yours; I meant the reverse, and it would still give me great pleasure to make you happy. Why will you court misery? The world, you see, will not give you credit for innocence: in respect to their opinion, whether you live in Martin's cottage, or become mistress of the best apartments of my seat, it will make no difference; but, in the one case, you are left to pine in solitude; in the other, every object that can delight the senses, every refinement that can give zest to pleasure, awaits you.

"Is not the alternative you appear to chuse, a symptom of madness? It is you who are the cause both of your own unhappiness and mine.---As the opinion then of the world, which you prize too highly, cannot be recovered, despise it, and turn your thoughts to a happiness independent of it."--" Don't mistake me, Sir," cried she eagerly; "painful as the loss of friends, as the loss of the good opinion of the world is, it is pleasure compared to the torture the mind must endure from conscious vice." "And think you (he said) it is nothing to have led me on from day to day with hope?"

"The falsehood you have reported of me," she replied, "is less surprising than that contained in your question. Even before I lost my father, when nothing had occurred to prove your views dishonourable, when your title and your fortune were pleasing to him and to my mother, I felt no prepossession in your favour, and I candidly told you my mind."

"Mere words," rejoined he; "and, that they meant nothing, is proved by your subsequent conduct, in alluming me

after your removal to Martin's cottage." "For shame! Lord Sudley (she exclaimed), you cannot yourself believe what you assert. My poor mother thought the loss of my father a stronger motive for urging me to fix my situation in life: she, it was, whose solicitude for a daughter's welfare invited, and perhaps encouraged, your visits; but will you say that I did not repeat to you my fixed determination, never to give my hand to any man who had not previously inte. rested my heart? and, when you disco. vered a dishonourable purpose, did not my mother join in dismissing you for ever from our cottage, humble as it is?" "Zounds! Emily, (cried he) "I never saw you in such heroics before; but, come, lay them aside; consider that a life of neglect and poverty must be your lot; accept, therefore, a settlement from me, and name the sum yourself." Miss Melville's heart beat violently; she forgot the unprotected state she was in; her countenance fired with indignation, and she called him, "Insolent villain!" "As you think so, (said he) you are certainly prepared to accompany me; my chaise is waiting."

During this dialogue, Aubrey, more than once, had nearly been overcome by his feelings his heart, which had before paid the admiration due to the personal charms and accomplishments of Miss Melville, had now completely yielded to that passion which deserves the name of love. Every sentence she uttered not only evinced her innocence, but discovered a virtue with which angels might be enamoured. When he saw her tears flow, and heard her proffered forgiveness, if the villain would cease insulting her, he raised his hand to the latch of the door. At the mention of the settlement, Mr. Martin observing his emotion, caught his arm, or he would have burst out, to secure her from any farther insult.

The company had expressed their joy in silent looks; but, though perfectly convinced of Miss Melville's merit, Mr. Martin thought it right to suffer her slanderer to proceed to the attempt of carrying her off by force; and, as he seized Aubrey, he shook his head, to deter him from interposing too soon. Lord Sudley, in addressing his last sentence to Miss Melville, had taken a whistle from his pocket, and going to the door

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