to their crimes. The fisherman and his cområdes then rowed off for the vessel, and tears of joy bedewed his weather-beaten face on finding that the wife of his guest had escaped uninjured. When he descended into the cabin, she at first seemed unconscious of his approach, so much had her senses been overpowered by the late scenes of horror. When she was aroused from the stupor' in which he had found her, she informed him that she was the only survivor of all those who had taken passage in the vessel. "Alas," exclaimed she, "I regret that my life was spared. Far more dear to me would have been the watery grave of my husband."

12. For some moments, the tears of the wretched woman unmanned our generous fisherman; and when he at length collected himself, he was fearful of informing her too suddenly that her husband was alive, and in perfect safety. At first, he tried to soothe her agitated feelings by telling her that the murderers had no longer the power of doing her any injury; and that, though separated from the one she loved, she should never want a protector while he had an arm to raise in her defense.

13. As she became more calm, he continued, "Perhaps your husband may be still alive. Some of the passengers have been picked up, severely wounded, it is true, but not beyond the hope of recovery." At last, he gradually unfolded the happiness that was in store for her. But with all his caution, nature fainted under the excess of joyful emotion; and he trembled lest all his labors should have been bestowed in vain.

14. The joy of the young couple at their meeting can not be adequately described. Suffice it to say, that after having knelt in prayer to that Being who had, as it were, restored them to life, their first care was the welfare of the fisherman. A sum sufficient to render him independent was immediately bestowed, and the only return which they requested was, that they might retain the faithful dog, who had been so instrumental in producing this joyous meeting.

15. But here the fisherman pleaded in his turn. He said, that his reward had been greater than his labors deserved, or his

'Stů' por, insensibility; inability to perceive, act, or feel. Ad'equately, justly; fitly.

heart required. He hoped they would not charge him with ingratitude; but the dog, he said, patting him on the face, had been his only companion during the long and dreary winters he had passed among those rocks—that there was no other living creature whom he could call his friend-and, in fine, rather than part with him, he would return their bounty; preferring his hut, his poverty, and his dog, to wealth and solitude.

16. "Enough has been said," replied the stranger; "you shall not part with him,—and I am sorry that I made a request which could give one moment's pain to so good a heart. Take this," added he, presenting a large addition to his former donation; "and if it be more than sufficient for your wants, I know it will be employed-as all wealth ought to be—in alleviating1 the distresses of your fellow-beings."

INDEPENDENT STATESMAN.

1.

36. THE SON OF SORROW.-A FABLE.

ALL lonely, excluded from Heaven,

Sat Sorrow one day on the strand,2

And, mournfully buried in thought,
Form'd a figure of clay with her hand.

2. Jove3 appear'd. "What is this?" he demands:
She replied, ""Tis a figure of clay.
Show thy power on the work of my hand;
Give it life, mighty Father, I pray !"

3. "Let him live!" said the god. "But observe,
As I lend him, he mine must remain."

"Not so," Sorrow said, and implored,

"Oh! let me my offspring retain!

4. ""Tis to me his creation he owes."

"Yes," said Jove, “but 'twas I gave him breath.'
As he spoke, Earth appears on the scene,
And, observing the image, thus saith:

'Alle' vi åt ing, making lighter or more tolerable.-'Strånd, shore.— Jove, or Ju' pi ter, the chief of the fabulous gods of the ancients.

5. "From me-from my bosom he's tōrn,

I demand, then, what's taken from me."
"This strife shall be settled," said Jove;

"Let Saturn' decide 'tween the three."
6. This sentence the Judge gave. "To all
He belongs, so let no one complain;
The life, Jove, thou gavest him, shalt thou,
With his soul, when he dies, take again.
7. "Thou, Earth, shalt receive back his frame,
At peace in thy lap he'll recline;

But during his whole troubled life,
He shall surely, O Sorrow, be thine!
8. "His features thy look shall reflect;

Thy sigh shall be mixed with his breath:
And he ne'er shall be parted from thee
Until he reposes in death!"

MORAL.

9. The sentence of Heaven, then, is this;
And hence man lies under the sod:
Though Sorrow possesses him, living,
He returns both to earth and to God.

FROM THE SWEDISII.

OF

37. STUART, THE PAINTER.

F Stuart, the painter, this amusing anecdote is related. He had put up at an inn, and his companions were desirous, by putting roundabout questions, to find out his calling or profession. Stuart answered, with a grave face and serious tone, that

1 Såt'urn, the father of Jupiter.—2Gilbert Stuart was born in Newport, R. I., in 1755, and died in 1828. He lived successively in Philadelphia, Washington, and Boston. His portraits are among the finest specimens of modern art. On a near and sudden view, they appear like mere daubs and blotches of paint, but as the eye rivets its attention upon them, the canvas appears to be actually animated--there seems to be no paint, nothing but living flesh and blood, with the actual features of the person in relief before us. Hence Stuart's portraits are very highly estimated.

he sometimes dressed gentlemen's and ladies' hair. At that time, high-cropped pomatumed' hair was all the fashion.

2. "You are a hair-dresser, then?" "What," said he, "do I look like a barber?" "I beg your pardon, sir, but I inferred it from what you said. If I mistook you, may I take the liberty to ask what you are, then?" "Why, I sometimes brush a gentleman's coat or hat, and sometimes adjust a cravat."

3. "Oh, you are a valet, then, to some nobleman?" "A valet! Indeed, sir, I am not. I am not a servant. To be sure, I make coats and waistcoats for gentlemen." "Oh, you are a tailor?" "A tailor! do I look like a tailor? never handled a goose, other than a roasted one.'

3

I assure you, I

4. By this time they were all in a roar. What are you, then?" said one. "I'll tell you," said Stuart. "Be assured, all I have said is literally true. I dress hair, brush hats and coats, adjust a cravat, and make coats, waistcoats, and breeches, and likewise boots and shoes, at your service."

5. “Oh, ho! a boot and shoemaker, after all!” "Guess again, gentlemen. I never handled boot or shoe, but for my own feet and legs; yet all I have told you is true." "We may as well give up guessing." "Well, then, I will tell you, upon my honor as a gentleman, my bona fides profession. I get my bread by making faces."

6. He then screwed his countenance, and twisted the lineaments of his visage,' in a manner such as Samuel Foote or Charles Mathews' might have envied. His companions, after loud peals of laughter, each took credit to himself for having suspected that the gentleman belonged to the theater, and they all knew he must be a comedian' by profession. When, to

'Po ma' tumed, pomatum, a kind of scented ointment used on the hair.- Vål' et, a servant who attends on a gentleman's person.Goose, the iron with which the tailor smooths his work.-* Breeches (brich' ez).—* Bō'na fl'de, Latin words, meaning in good faith; truly; actual. Lin' e a ments, features; outlines.-1 Visage (viz' aj), face.— Samuel Foote, an English author, actor, and mimic. Born 1721, died 1777.-9 Charles Mathews, an English comedian, celebrated as a mimic Born 1776, died 1837.- Co mẻ' di an, an actor or player in comedy: that is, a representation on a stage of the lighter passions of mankind, which generally terminates happily. When the story terminates sadly, It is called tragedy, and the player is called a tragedian.

their utter astonishment, he assured them that he was never on the stage, and very rarely saw the inside of a playhouse, or any similar place of amusement. They all now looked at each other in utter amazement.

7. Before parting, Stuart said to his companions: "Gentlemen, you will find that all I have said of my various employments is comprised in these few words: I am a portrait painter. If you will call at John Palmer's, York Buildings, London, J shall be ready and willing to brush you a coat or hat, dress your hair à la mode,' supply you, if in need, with a wig of any fashion or dimensions, accommodate you with boots or shoes, give you ruffles or cravat, and make faces for you."

1

1.

I

38. THE OLD ARM-CHAIR.

LOVE it, I love it; and who shall dare

To chide me for loving that old arm-chair?

I've treasured it long as a sainted prize,

I've bedew'd it with tears, and embalm'd it with sighs;
'Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart;

Not a tie will break, not a link will start.
Would ye learn the spell? a mother sat there,
And a sacred thing is that old arm-chair.

2. In childhood's hour I linger'd near

The hallow'd' seat with listening ear;

And gentle words that mother would give,
To fit me to die and teach me to live.

She told me shame would never betide,'

With truth for my creeds and God for my guide;
She taught me to lisp my earliest prayer,

As I knelt beside that old arm-chair.

3. I sat and watch'd her many a day,

When her eye grew dim, and her locks were gray;

1 À la mode, according to the fashion.—2 Spell, a charm, consisting of words of hidden power.-3 Hål' lowed, holy sacred. Be tide' befall; happen.- — Creed, belief; articles of faith.