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No. 2.

To my Daughter-Female Biography.

41

position of the czarovitz, formed a scheme to induce the women about the princess to give out that she was dead; and a bundle of sticks was interred in her stead with funeral solem

sued that I could not but admire. There was
no obstreperous mirth; but every one con-
ducted himself with gravity and decorum, as
though the influence of worship was still
felt. After a frequent interchange of saluta-nity.
tions the members left the place-some on foot
and some in vehicles. I lingered until the
last; when I accepted an invitation from one
of them, with whom I had a slight acquaint-
ance, to accompany him to dine. I left the
ground with feelings never to be forgotten,
and fully satisfied that it was good for me
that I had been there.

TO MY DAUGHTER,
On being separated from her on her Marriage.
BY MRS. J. HUNTER.

Dear to my heart as life's warm stream
Which animates this mortal clay,
For thee I court the waking dream,

And deck with smiles the future day;
And thus beguile the present pain,
With hopes that we shall meet again.

Yet will it be, as when the past

Twined every joy and care and thought, And o'er our minds one mantle cast

Of kind affections finely wrought? Ah, no! the groundless hope were vain, For so we ne'er shall meet again.

May he who claims thy tender heart
Deserve its love as I have done;
For kind and gentle as thou art,

If so belov'd thou'rt fairly won.
Bright may the sacred torch remain,
And cheer thee till we meet again!

FEMALE BIOGRAPHY.

No. II.

MEMOIR OF THE PRINCESS WOLFENBUTTEL,

(OF RUSSIA.)

The virtuous and beautiful Charlotte Christiana Sophia de Wolfenbuttel was born in the year 1694, and at an early age became the wife of czarovitz Alexis, son of Peter the First, czar of Muscovy; a man of the most brutal and ferocious character, who had conceived such an unaccountable aversion to her, that his personal ill-treatment of her, during a very precarious state. of health, was such as was thought likely to endanger her life; and the monster having reason to believe she would not recover, left her, and retreated to his country house.

The orders which the tyrant had given to bury the princess without delay or ceremony, favored the deception; and she was removed to a retired spot in order to recover her health and spirits; which object was no sooner accomplished than she set off for Paris, accompanied by an old German domestic, in the character of her father; the countess of Konismark having secured for her all her jewels and a considerable sum of money, and clothed her in the habilments of common life.

Here she made but a short stay; and having hired a female servant, proceeded to a sea-port, and embarked on board a vessel bound for Louisiana. Here her figure and manners attracted the notice of the inhabitants of the colony, and an officer, named D'Auband, who had formerly been in Russia, immediately recollected the royal fugitive; and though he could at first hardly persuade himself of the reality of what he saw, in order to ascertain the truth, he contrived to ingratiate himself into the good graces of the pretended father, and soon formed so intimate a friendship with him, that they agreed to live under one roof.

This charming society had not long subsisted before the news reached the colony announcing the death of the czarovitz Alexis. D'Auband then took the opportunity to declare to the princess his knowledge of her; at the same time offering to sacrifice every thing to her service, in order to conduct her back to Russia; but she had experienced the insufficiency of royalty to confer happiness, and chose rather to enjoy the peace and tranquillity of retirement than to return again into the scenes of splendid ambition.

"O knew they but their happiness! of men The happiest they, who, far from public rage, Deep in the vale, with a choice few retired, Drink the pure pleasures of the rural life." All she required of D'Auband was a promise of inviolable secrecy, and he solemnly pledged himself to obey her commands; but though she had refused his kind services, she was not herself insensible to the tender passion with which her virtues and her beauties had inspired his bosom.

Their reciprocal attachment daily increased; and the death of her old and faithful domestic, together with motives of the purest delicacy, induced her to give D'Auband her The countess of Konismark, who attended hand in marriage. This circumstance added during her illness, naturally concluding that a new veil to her real condition; and thus she would one day perish from the brutal dis-she, who had been destined to wear the dia

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demn of Russia, became the humble but happy wife of a lieutenant in infantry!

In the succeeding year she had a daughter, whom she nursed herself, and educated with a truly parental solicitude in the French and German languages, and in various other branches of polite literature.

VOL. II.

BROKEN HEART.

From a volume of "Poems by one of a family circle.”
He seemed to love her, and her youthful cheek
Wore for a while the transient bloom of joy ;

And her heart throbb'd with hopes she could not speak,

New to delight, and new to ecstacy.

All undisguis'd in its young tenderness;
And, smiling saw that he, and only he,

Ten happy years had elapsed when D'Au-He won that heart in its simplicity, band was seized with a disorder which required an operation to be performed; and it became necessary for them to embark in the first vessel for France for that purpose.

The most skilful surgeons in Paris were engaged on this occasion, and his wife waited upon him with the most tender and patient

attention and affection till the time of his recovery. In a short time after, the lieutenant had the good fortune to obtain from the French East India Company a major's commission for the Isle of Bourbon.

Had power at once to wound it or to bless.

She gave to him her innocent affection,
And the warm feelings of her guileless breast;

And

from the storms of life she sought protection

In his dear love, her home of earthly rest.

In this sweet trust, her opening days were blest,
And joyously she hailed her coming years,
For well she knew that even if distrest,

There would be one kind hand to dry her tears.

From her young dream of bliss; but murmur'd not Over her silent sufferings, nor spoke

To any one upon her cruel lot.

You would have deem'd that he had been forgot,

Or thought her bosom callous to the stroke:
But in her cheek there was one hectic spot,

While the above business was in agitation, He left her-and in trouble she awoke the princess, walking one morning in the garden of the Thuilleries with her daughter, with whom she was conversing in the German language, their conversation attracted the notice of marshal de Saxe, who was passing, and who immediately recollected her. He was preparing to address her, when, with great confusion and embarrassment, she begged him to accompany her to a more retired spot, in order to avoid observation; and there, after enjoining the strictest secrecy, she acknowledged herself to him.

By appointment, the marshal paid her a visit at her own habitation on the following morning, where she recited to him her adventures, together with the share which his mother, the countess of Konismark, had in them.

At the expiration of three months, the major D'Auband, with his wife and daughter, proceeded to the Isle of Bourbon; when the marshal, according to agreement, was at liberty to inform the King, who was at Versailles, of the circumstances of the princess, who immediately ordered the minister of marine to write to the governor of Bourbon to treat the major and his family with every mark of distinction. To the kind offices of the king she was likewise indebted for the representation of her situation to her niece, the queen of Hungary, who gave her an invitation to come and reside with her, on condition she would quit her husband and daughter: but, without hesitation, she rejected the splendid offer, and preferred her domestic and conjugal pleasures, in this remote and peaceful retirement, to all the blandishments of wealth and rovalty.

'Twas little-but it told her heart was broke.

And deeper and more deep the painful flush

Daily became; yet all distress seem'd o'er,
Save when the life-blood gave a sudden rush,
Then trembled into silence, as before.
At once too proud, too humble to deplore,

She bowed her head in quietness; she knew

Her blighted prospects could revive no more:

Yet she was calm, for she had heaven in view.

She lov'd, and she forgave him-and in dying
She ask'd a blessing on his future years;

And so she went to sleep; meekly relying

Upon that power which shall efface all tears.
Her simple turf the young spring flow'ret wears,

And the pale primrose grows upon her tomb
And when the storm the simple blossom tears,

It bows its head-an emblem of her doom

An active career is not a path of roses. The moment you attempt distinction, you will be abused, calumniated, reviled. You will be shocked at the wrath you excite, and Franklin has it, that "you have paid too sigh for your old obscurity, and consider, as dear for your whistle." But, in return, for individual enemies, what a recompense to have made the public itself your friend; perhaps even posterity your familiar.

It is easier to pretend to be what you are not, than to hide what you really are; he that can

Envy not the appearance of happiness in accomplish both has little to learn in hypoc any man, for thou knowest not his secret griefs.risy.

No. 2.

Adventures of the West-Requited Love.

HISTORICAL COLLECTIONS.

No. III

43

conductors halted to cook a wild repast of buffalo meat.

The ladies were soon missed from the garrison. The natural courage and sagacity

ADVENTURES OF THE WEST. of Smith, now heightened by love, gave him

BY HON. JUDGE HALL.

the wings of the wind and the fierceness of a tiger. The light traces of female feet led Among the adventurers whom Boon de- him to the place of embarkation-the cascribed as having reinforced his little colony, noe was traced to the opposite shore-the was a young gentleman named Smith, who deep print of the moccasin in the sand told the had been a major in the militia of Virginia, rest, and the agonized Smith, accompanied by and possessed a full share of the gallantry a few of his best woodsmen, pursued "the and noble spirit of his native state. In the ab- spoil encumbered foe." The track once dissence of Boon, he was chosen, on account of covered, they kept it with that unerring sahis military rank and talents, to command the gacity so peculiar to our hunters. The bended rude citadel, which contained all the wealth grass, the disentangled briars, and the comof this patriarchal band-their wives, their pressed shrub, afforded the only, but to them children, and their herds. It held also an ob- the certain, indication of the route of the enject peculiarly dear to this young soldier-aemy. When they had sufficiently ascertained lady, the daughter of one of the settlers, to the general course of the retreat of the Inwhom he had pledged his affections. It came dians, Smith quitted the trace, assuring his to pass upon a certain day, when the siege was over, and the employments of husbandry resumed, that this young lady with a female companion strolled out, as young ladies in love are very apt to do, along the banks of the Kentucky river. Having rambled about for some time, they espied a canoe lying by the shore, and in a frolic stepped into it, with the determination of visiting a neighbor on the opposite bank. It seems that they were not so well skilled in navigation as the Lady of the Lake, who paddled her own canoe very dexteriously; instead of gliding to the point of destination, they were whirled about by the stream, and at length thrown on a sand bar, from which they were obliged to wade ashore. Full of mirth, excited by their wild adventure, they hastily arranged their dresses, and were proceeding to climb the banks, when three Indians, rushing from a neighboring covert, seized the fair wanderers, and forced them away. Their savage captors, not allowing them time for rest or reflection, hurried them along during the whole day by rugged and thorny paths. Their shoes were torn off by the rocks, their clothes rent, and their feet

and limbs lacerated and stained with blood.-
To heighten their misery, one of the savages
began to make love to Miss (the intend-
ed of Major Smith,) and while goading her
along with a pointed stick, promised in recom-
pense for their sufferings, to make her his
squaw. This at once roused all the energies
of her mind, and called its powers into action.
In hope that her friends would soon pursue
them, she broke the twigs as she passed along,
and delayed the party as much as possible by
tardy and blundering steps. But why dwell
on the heartless and unmanly cruelty of sav-
ages?
The day and the night passed, and
another day of agony had nearly rolled over
the heads of the afflicted females, when their

companions that they would fall in with them at the pass of a certain stream ahead, for which he now struck a direct course, thus gaining on the foe, who had taken the most difficult path. Arrived at the stream, they traced its course until they discovered the water newly thrown upon the rocks. Smith, leaving his party, now crept forward upon his hands and feet, until he discovered one of the savages seated by a fire, and with a deliberate aim, shot him through the heart.

The women rushed towards their deliverer,

and recognizing Smith, clung to him in the transports of newly awakened joy and gratihim with his tomahawk. Smith, disengaging tude, while a second Indian sprang towards himself from the ladies, aimed a blow at his avoided by springing aside, but at the same antagonist with his rifle, which the savage

moment the latter received a mortal wound from another hand. The other and only remaining Indian fell, in attempting to escape. in triumph to the fort, where his gallantry, no Smith, with his interesting charge, returned doubt, was repaid by the sweetest of all re

wards.

REQUITED LOVE.

What words can be more delightful to the human ear, than the unexpected effusions of generosity and affection from a benevolent woman. A gentleman after great misfortunes, came to a lady he had long courted, and told her his circumstances were so reduced, that he was actually in want of five guineas.-"I am glad to hear it," said she.— "Is this your affection for me?" he replied in a tone of despondency, “why are you g'ad ?” "Because (answered she) if you want five guineas, I can give you five thousand!"

44

The Forum in Rome.

THE FORUM IN ROME.

WITH A CUT.

VOL. II.

sity of its mass and the plain elegance of its structure.

Of this miracle of architecture, the northern half of it, and the substructions of the southern, are entirely preserved. Its exterior form was that of a rather oval rotunda, 160 feet high, and nearly 1800 in circumfer

We stood upon the Forum. Two long rows of huge and magnificent ruins designate the spot chosen by ancient Rome for the lofty purposes of national conventions, public justice, and the most solemn acts of govern-ence, surrounded by three colonnades sup

ment.

porting each other. The columns and outer walls are wholly of white Tiburtine marble. The area in the centre of the interior had 600 feet in circumference, and would admit 10,000 combatants at once. The whole interval between the area and the exterior wall was filled up with stone benches, rising like an amphitheatre, that would accommodate more than 110,000 spectators; the lowest rounds were for the vestals and the senators; those next above them for the knights; then followed those for the citizens, and upon the highest were seated the matrons; all above these were stationed 10,000 slaves, holding, extending over all the seats, a sheltering carpet of the most precious workmanship, either embroidered with gold and pearls, or decorated with the most splendid pictures. The vaulted spaces below the seats contain

Even the first centuries after the building of Rome were here witnesses of the festive plays and other assemblies of the citizens. As early as Tarquinius Priscus, the Forum was encompassed with colonnades, for protection against the inclemencies of the weather. When the power of Rome was extending itself, first over Italy, and subsequently over half the globe, within this spot were concentrated all that was capable of producing the effectual idea of the grandeur and majesty of the commonwealth-all that could possibly be thought of by absolute power, illimited riches, and a luxury almost fabulous: --here were situated the palaces of the consuls and emperors, and the temples of the gods; triumphal arcs adorned its avenues; baths, circuses, race-courses, museums, and public libraries surrounded it on all sides.||ed the wild animals chosen for combat, the All the most admirable master-pieces of the arts, possessed by Greece, Italy, Ionia, and Egypt were procured by the order of universal Rome, to adorn its Forumn.

All this has passed away long since, or lies in dust, less through the power of time, than through that of man and the elements -of wasting Barbarians and numberless conflagrations. Herds are now bellowing where Cicero and the Grachi poured forth the fire of their eloquence before a numberless people; where emperors resided, the vine is blooming. Innumerable ruins, however, still prove to future centuries this by-gone magnificence.

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men devoted to them as victims, the gladiators, and part of the life-guard of the emperor, whose palace was connected with the colosseum by a portico.

This theatre was built by Vespasian, at the expense of more than fourteen millions of dollars; 12,000 Jews, taken prisoners, were employed at it, of whom one-half died by hard labor and other fatal accidents. Titus consecrated it, and his brother and successor, Domitian, exhibited here the greatest combats which at any time were ever witnessed by that bloody-minded Rome, which perpetually rioted in cruelties; thousands of the first Christians, thrown a prey before wild The Forum was bounded on the southwest beasts, suffered here the martyrdom. The by the Palatine,--and on the north by the then degenerate Roman people were at last Capitoline mounts; and formed an oblong so accustomed to the blood-shedding spectarectangle of about half a million square feet. cle, that they would no more do without it; The most splendid roads, as well as the trium- people of quality kept slaves for the mere phal arcs of Constantine, Septimius Seve- purpose of seeing them kill each other at dorus and Titus, gave entrance to it. Turning mestic and private festivals; even knights towards the capitol, resplendent with the and senators, seized with the fury of bloodfairest works of architecture, up to which a mindedness, often precipitated themselves flight of marble steps led, on the left was into the area, and of their own accord expired seen the imperial palaces covering the whole under the claws of wild animals, or the mount Palatine, and on the right a line of swords of gladitors;-the emperor Commomagnificent temples, of which those of Peace, dus performed several times the part of a of Antonine and of Faustine, of Mars, and of public gladiator. Trajan ordered gladiatorial Saturn, are still furnishing their precious spectacles to be given for 120 successive fragments. In the back-ground rose high days, and each day appeared 10,000 combathe amphitheatre of Flavius (called colosse- tants.-Thus was wasted the flower of the un from a gigantic statue of the god of the subjugated nations! Thus the world was exsun, 150 feet high, once placed before it,) ex- hausted, and whole provinces were depopuciting the highest admiration by the immen-lated, in order to satisfy the daily cry after

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