Not plainer there the tale of death

relate,

In radient points, my smiling

brows adorn!

nounce my fate!

EUGENIO murried, seals LoUISA'S

doom

embraced,

Not one slight thought on false EUGENIO waste!

ever free,

Throw back soft pity's tender

glance on thee!

Smile at the human weakness of

thy tears,

And long to welcome thee to HAPPIER SPHERES! (End of the first Epistle.)

SELECTED.

For the Lady's Miscellany. INNOCENCE BETRAYED. An awful warning to the abandoned, was thy the serious perusal of the young of

both sexes

DIED a few days since, in a state of distraction, Miss MARY-ANN MOONEY, aged 21 years. The circumstance attending the death of this unfortunate female are published, as a warning to the unreflecting of her own sex, and as an awful and solemn admonition to the inconsiderate of the other.

This young lady was the daughter of Mrs. S. Mooney, who lives a few miles from this place, honest and respected. The old lady has seen better days; but of late years she has depended on her industry for subsistance and by her prudent

unfailing pour!

Mark the bright circlets of th' e

ternal morn,

been kept from want. Mary-Ann was her oldest daughter, and a favorite child;

She with her widow'd mother feeble, old,

And poor, liv'd in a cabin near this

beauteous town.'

The mother had endeavored to instil into her children the principles of moral rectitude, and to excite them to purity of conduct. The wants of the family rendered a frequent intercourse with the town indispensible, and Mary-Ann was often sent to procure necessary comfforts, with the avails of the family industry. In this employ ment she became acquainted with a young man, whose polite attentions made way to her unsuspecting heart, and soon secured her undivided & unalterable affections. Her innocent and unreserved encomiums upon this person induced her mother to attend her daughter in the disposal of the next roll of homespun she had to part with. The old lady, more experienced than her daughter, thought she had discovered something in the manner of her customer that she

could not approve of, and that her favorite was venturing upon the brink of a fatal precipice, from which she ought instantly to snatch her. As soon, therefore, as the cloth was disposed of, she told her daughter of her dangerous situation, and forbid her ever again visiting the store. The poor girl, unsuspecting the generosity and goodness of one who appeared to her all perfection, thought, her mother's fears unfounded and her prohibition unreasonable. But considering it a duty to be, as she had

ever been obedient, she endeavored to conform herself to maternal directions. After a while, how

ever, Mary-Ann was missing from her home, and her mother with tender solicitude and anxious fore bodings, for many days sought her sorrowing. At length she was found at a house not far from town, and under the protection of the person she had been instructed to avoid. Distressed and almost distracted, the mother spent her days in ceaseless sighs and unavailing'

tears her child--her darling child, she said, was lost, was lost for ever. Sobs and tears supplied the place of words. and the excess of her anguish the old lady seemed as if her hearts blood would stream from her eyes.

Some short time after, the per son whose affection and friendship Mary-Ann supposed she had permanently secured, and who she said had promised to make her his wife, became indifferent towards her, and by avoiding her society, called forth all the sensibility of her soul, and filled her mind with inexpressible agony; she sought her friend in town, but was unable to obtain an interview with him; and without innocence to prop her förtitude, her mental powers were overcome by her disappointment, and she became wild and frantic. Some female acquaintances of the family kindly undertook to return her to her mother, and having plac ed her in a carriage, they went before to announce to the old lady the object of their visit. When

informed of it, her colour forsook her cheeks, she urembled, and bursting into tears, asked, how she could receive a child whose character was destroyed; but while they were in conversation, the poor unfortunate Mary-Ann was brought to the door; when her mother bebeld her emaciated form, her pallid visage, and her wildly staring eye, she forgot her resentment, and clasping her in her arms, cried out, O my child, my child, my lost and ruined child! The scene which followed, language could no describe; the tears of the beneyolent females who had thus again united the family, testified that they feit, what they could not express on the occasion. But Mary Ann, poor girl, was wholly uncenscious of the feelings she had excited, and at times would ask the cause of sorrow she seemed to witness, and then declared, that she was happy, very indeed She was then told that she must now stay and com.ort her mother; but she replied, O no, I cannot stay here, I must go to my friend, my dearest friend; 1 cannot stay with any one else; she would then cry and rave, and run, and exhibit a most deplorable state of insanity and frantic wretchedness. It was at length found necessary to confine her, as her delirium in a few days increased to perfect madness. Every ray of reason extinguished, she would tear off her clothes bite and mangle her flesh, and present such a dreadful spectacie of horrid distraction as has seldom been

qualled, perhaps never exceeded.

In this condition she continuėd for some time, occasionally calling out for her friend, her beloved husband, and then again would rave and tear her shoulders and arms with her teeth. At length death, the friend of the friendless, kindly came to her relief, and her sufferings and her life closed together. And may the angel of pity consecrate her memory.

This plain and unadorned narrative of facts may suggest some useful reflections, to the young of both sexes, for whose sake it is published. To one it shows, what all experience confirms, that no dependance should be placed in any professions of regard which are accompanied with invitations to depart from duty; and to the other it presents some of the consequences which ma, follow from an unfeeling triumph over unsuspecting innocence. And for the consideration of bon it may be added, that at the dreaded tribunal of Justice, and before a judge who is no respecter of persons, the injured and the injurer, the betrayer and the betrayed, must hereafter appear; and happy will those be, who are prepared for the eventful interview.

Lord Bacon's Opinion of Hope. He used to say that hope was a pleasant breakfast, a tolerable dinner, and a very bad supper.

VARIETY.

ORIGINAL AND SELECTED

For the Lady's Miscellany.

In a late dispute on the subject of climate, an honest Irishman who was present, contended warmly in favour of his country. 'In the first place,' said he, the weathe there is much finer in the next place we have a greater abundance of rain; and in the next place, the days are much longer.' This, however, said a buy-stander cannot be the case the whole year round." Arrah, dear honey, but it is though; and that is not all; the days are not only longer, but faith," said he, “there are more of 'em."

was so pleased with the distinction that he expressed a sense of the generosity of his conquerer.

ANECDOTE,

Of Thomas, Earl of Kildare. This Thomas was surnamed Nuppagh (i. e. the Ape) on the following account: being only nine months old when his father and grand-father were slain by the Ms. Carties, and nursed at Tralee, whither the news of their deaths suddenly arriving, the nurses who attended, in their first astonishment, ran out of the nouse, and left the child alone in the cradle, when a baboon or ape, that was kept in the family, took up the infant and carried it to the top of the castle, from whence, after bearing it round the battlements, and showing it for some time to the astonished spectators, he brought it down safe, and laid it in the cradle.

Anecdote of Quin. Macklin having written a comedy many years ago, showed it to his friend Quin, and asked his opinion of it; who gave him some hopes of its success, but desired tum to wait a little before he brought it out. His advice was complied with and the next season he was called upon again for his interest with Mr. Rich, to have it performed; but Quin had the address to satisfy Macklin a second time, by reccommending him to wait a little longer. Shylock retired growl

7

ing, but complied. Next year he applied again, confident of success, but was astonished at receiving the same answer as before. Unable now to contain himself, he asked his patron, pettishly, 'how much longer he would have him wait? Till the day of judgment,' replied Quin, when you and your play may be d-'d together.'

MARSHALL SAXE. A poor fellow in Marshall Saxe's army was going to be hanged for stealing a crown; Saxe asked him how he could risk his life for such a trifle ?- As to that,' said he, Ihave long exposed it every day, boldly, sir, for twopence-halfpenny." This speach recalled to Saxe's memory his bravery and wretched situation so forcibly, that he gave him his pardon.

RICHARD CROMWELL. The son of one of the most power usurpers that ever lived, several years after his dismission

Naval Anecdote.

Patrick Baird was a witness on the trial of the unfortunate Byng. It is reported, that this blunt seaman, when asked his opinion as to the practibility of throwing succours into Minorea, replied, with a peculiar roughness, naturally inherent in his character, that “if he had been ordered to throw relief into h-ll, he would at least have attempted it!"

Cure for the Tooth Ache. An eminent apothecary in the vicinity of London, has lately recommended, as an effectual cure for the tooth ache, the following remedy, which he has been in the habit of using for many years, and out of the number of cases, eight tenths have succeeded:- -Take 3 table spoonfulls of brandy, and add 1 drachm of camphor, with 30 or 40 drops of laudanum, drop a little upon some lint, and apply it to the tooth affected, keeping the lint moistened for 5 minutes only on the tooth and gum.