Hope and kind nursing to health brought her,
Again the rose bloomed on her cheek,
And lovers gay and wealthy sought her,
But grief has made her wishes meek.
She thanks them for their splendid proffers
Of jewels rich, and trappings gay;
But says she better likes the offers,
That Willie makes the Widow Gray.

LESSON CXIV.

The Fisherman of Casco Bay.-INDEPENDENT STATESMAN.

AMONG the numerous islands in Casco Bay, there are few indeed, which at present, contain more than a single dwelling; yet a century ago, the traveller would have been cheered with the mingled hum of business and of pleasure; and could have rested beneath many a hospitable roof, the ruins of which are now scarcely visible. They were formerly inhabited by fishermen, but on account of the frequent attacks of the Indians, these huts were abandoned, and being of slight materials, soon sunk into decay.

Near one of these ruins, and not far from Diamond Cove, is the grave of Michael Burn-of whom the following story is related. One evening as he sat at the door of his hut, listening to the waves, which broke on the rocks that surrounded him, his dog, who was lying at his feet, suddenly sprang up, and darting towards a projecting cliff, plunged into the water. The fisherman, presuming from his earnest manner, that something uncommon had attracted his attention, hastened to the spot, from which the animal had leaped; but the night was too dark to discover either the dog, or the object of his pursuit, and the murmur of the waves prevented his ascertaining what direction he had taken.

For a long time, he awaited his return in vain, and, at last, supposing he was engaged in a fruitless chase after some seals, which frequently made their appearance, he retired to rest. Scarcely, however, had he sought his pillow, when the well known bark, and a scratching at the door, not only announced his return, but anxiety for his master's presence. He opened the door; the dog whined, pulled him gently, as if wishing him to follow, and suddenly left him.

Having lighted his lantern, he left the hut, the dog by his barking, directing the path; but on approaching the shore, judge of his surprize, to find by his faithful animal, a human being, and to all appearance, a corpse. It was evident that the dog had just drawn him from the water, but there were no marks of violence on his person. He opened his waistcoat-the body was still warm; and, filled with the hope of restoring animation, he bore it to his hut. His exertions were not in vain. In a short time, the stranger gave signs of returning life, and by the next morning, he was enabled to converse with his generous preserver.

"You probably recollect seeing a vessel near your harbour yesterday," said the stranger. "In that vessel, it was my misfortune to have been a passenger; Heaven grant that my beloved wife has not likewise fallen a victim to perfidy and ingratitude. I am a native of America, but for some years past, I have resided in France, where I acquired a considerable fortune. Desirous of spending my last days in the land of my fathers, I converted all my property into money, and embarked in this vessel with my young wife.

I loaded the master and crew with presents, but this only served to increase their rapacity. Although I was aware that they knew of the wealth I had on board, I entertained no fears, concerning either my life, or property; but last night their diabolical plans for the destruction of both, were put in execution. I was alone on the quarter deck, when a deep groan causing me to turn, I beheld one of the passengers struck down with an axe, as he was approaching to join me. The ruffians with horrid yells rushed forward to secure a second victim; but, though nearly overpowered by my sensations, I was enabled to reach the taffrel, and dropped into the sea.

"The darkness of the night, the presumption that I could not reach land, and above all, the work of death, which was still unfinished, prevented pursuit. I made an effort to float, trusting in Providence for my guide. But what was life? The dear woman for whom I wished to live, was deserted at the moment she most needed my assistance. The shrieks of the dying broke upon my ear, and I fancied I could distinguish the voice of my wife imploring mercy. The thought was agonizing, Three times I attempted to regain the ship, but in vain--she was fast receding. At last, regardless of my fate, I murmured at that Being who had upheld me. I desired death, and ceased my exertions, in order to hasten its approach. From that moment, until I revived in your dwelling, reason left me.'

The humane fisherman did all he could, to comfort the

hapless sufferer. He spoke of the consolations of religion, and reminded him of the submission, which he owed to the divine will of that God, from whose hand he had already received such manifold blessings. "I have no doubt," continued he, "that these men will soon land in this vicinity, to divide their plunder; and let us indulge the hope, that these outcasts of society will yet be brought to justice, and you restored to your affectionate wife."

Animated with this idea, the fisherman rose and approached the window, and, as he had supposed, the vessel was distinctly seen standing in for the shore. Not a moment was to be lost. Raising the stranger in his arms, he carried him to his skiff, and rowing round a steep bluff of rocks, which screened them from observation, he placed him in a cave, retired and secure. He then hastened to some huts, a few miles distant, informed the inhabitants of the bloody transactions of the past night, and conjured them, if they were not destitute of courage and humanity, to aid him in boarding the vessel, which was now at anchor. A small, but determined band, was immediately collected; and, under the direction of the fisherman, they advanced with caution towards his humble dwelling. Providence smiled on their endeavours. They crept to the brow of a crag, beneath which the pirates were seated, dividing the money of the stranger,--and watching for a good opportunity, they sprang upon them. The confusion of guilt, and the effects of intoxication, rendered them an easy conquest.

They were carefully secured to await the punishment due to their crimes. The fisherman and his comrades then rowed off for the vessel, and tears of joy bedewed his weatherbeaten 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 horrour. When she was aroused from the stupor in which he had found her, she informed him that she was the only surviver 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."

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 perfeet 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 she was separated from the one she loved, she should never want a protector while he had an arm to raise in her defence. 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 labours should have been bestowed in vain.

The joy of the young couple at their meeting cannot 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 instru mental in producing this joyous meeting.

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

"you

"Enough has been said," replied the stranger; shall not part from 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 own wants, I know it will be employed-as all wealth ought to be-in alleviating the distresses of your fellowbeings."

LESSON CXV.

Close of an Oration on the Death of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson. Delivered in Independence Square, in the City of Philadelphia on the 24th July, 1826.-J. SER

GEANT.

GREAT are their names! Honoured and revered be their memory! Associated with Washington and Franklin, their glory is a precious possession, enriching our annals, and exalting the character of our country.

Greater is the bright example they have left us! More precious the lesson, furnished by their lives, for our instruc-. tion. At this affecting moment, then, when we are assembled to pay the last tribute of respect, let us seriously meditate upon our duties; let us consider, earnestly and anxiously consider, how we shall best preserve those signal blessings, which have been transmitted to us,-how we shall transmit them unimpaired to our posterity.

This is the honour, which would have been most accepta→ ble to these illustrious men. This is an appropriate mode of commemorating the event we this day mourn. Let the truths of the Declaration of Independence, the principles of the revolution, the principles of free government, sink deep into our hearts, and govern all our conduct.

National Independence has been achieved, once and for

ever.

It can never be endangered. Time has accumulated strength with a rapidity unexampled. The thirteen colonies, almost without an union, few in numbers, feeble in means, are become in a lapse of fifty years, a nation of twenty-four States, bound together by a common government of their own choice, with a territory doubled, by peaceful acquisition, with ten millions of inhabitants, with commerce extending to every quarter of the world, and resources equal to every emergency of war or peace.

Institutions of humanity, of science, and of literature, have been established throughout the land. Temples have arisen to Him, who created all things, and by whom all things are sustained, not by the commands of princes or rulers, nor by legal coercion, but from the spontaneous offerings of the human heart. Conscience is absolutely free in the broadest and most unqualified sense. Industry is free; and human action knows no greater control, than is indispensable to the preservation of rational liberty.