to satisfy their curiosity, desired his permission to have it sent to them; nor did they fail every time it was returned to him, to accompany it with compliments of the highest commendation on its great merits. But the most wonderful part of the story is, that notwithstanding all this vast bustle and commendation bestowed upon this justly admired picture, by which Mr. West's servant gained upwards of thirty pounds for showing it, no mortal ever asked the price of the work, or so much as offered to give him a commission to paint any other subject. Indeed there was one gentleman who was so highly delighted with the picture, and spoke of it with such great praise to his father, that the latter immediately asked him the reason he did not purchase what he so much admired; when he answered, "What could 1 do, if I had it? you would not surely have me hang up a modern English picture in my house, unless it was a portrait ?"

HONORABLE CONVICTS.

at the hospital, they cheerfully offered even their bedding, &c. When a similar request was made to the debtors, they all refused.

DOMESTIC LIFE AMONG THE
INDIANS.

Among the many amiable traits which distin guish the character of the American Indians, that of conjugal affection and fidelity is not the least remarkable. When a couple is newly married, the husband, without saying a single word upon the subject, takes considerable pains to please his wife, and by repeated proofs of his skill and abilities in the art of hunting, to make her sensible that she can be happy with him, and that she will never want while they live together. At break of day, he will be off with his gun, and often by breakfast time return home with a deer, turkey, or some other game. He endeavors to make it appear that it is in his power to bring provisions home whenever he pleases; and his wife, proud of having such a good hunter for her

self agreeable to him. The more a man does for his wife's comfort, the more he is esteemed, particularly by the women, who will say, "This man surely loves his wife."

One man committed for a burglary, who had seven years to serve, observed, when the request was made to him, that having offended society, he would be happy to render it some services for the injury; and if they could only place confidence in him, he would go with cheerfulness. He went; he never left it but once, and then by permission, to obtain some articles in the city. His conduct was so remarkable, as to engage the attention of the managers, who made him a deputy steward; gave him the charge of the doors, to prevent improper persons from going into the hospitai; to preserve order in and about the house; and to see that nothing came to, or went from it, improperly. He was paid; and after receiving an extra compensation at his discharge, married one of the nurses.

Another man convicted of a robbery, was taken out for the purpose of attending a horse and cart, to bring such provisions from the vicinity of the city, as were there deposited for the use of the poor, by those who were afraid to come in. He had the sole charge of the cart, and conveying the articles for the whole period. He had many years to serve, and might at any time have departed with the horse, cart, and provisions. He despised, however, such a breach of trust, and returned to prison. He was soon after pardoned, with the thanks of the inspectors!

An equally striking instance of the good conduct of the prisoners during the sickness, happened among the women. When requested to give up their bedsteads for the use of the sick

In the year 1762, (says Mr. Heckerwelder, in his interesting account of the American In dians) I was witness to a remarkable instance of the disposition of Indians to indulge their wives. There was a famine in the land, and a sick Indian woman expressed a great desire for a mess of Indian corn. Her husband having heard that a trader at Lower Sandusky had a little, set off on horseback for that place, one hundred miles distant, and returned with as much corn as filled the crown of his hat, for which he gave his horse in exchange, and came home on foot, bringing his saddle back with him. It very seldom happens that an Indian condescends to quarrel with his wife, or abuse her, though she has given him just cause. In such a case, the man, without replying or saying a single word, will take his gun and go into the woods, and remain there a week, or perhaps a fortnight, living on the meat he has killed, before he returns home again; well knowing that he cannot inflict a greater punishment on his wife for her conduct to him, than by absenting himself for a while; for she is not only kept in suspense, uncertain whether he will return again, but is soon reported as a bad and quarrelsome woman; for as on those occasions a man does not tell his wife on what day or at what time he will be back again, which he never, when they are on good terms, neglects to do, she is at once put to shame by her neighbors, who soon suspecting something, do not fail to put such questions to her, as she either cannot, or is ashamed to answer. When he at length does return, she endeavors to let him see by her attentions that she has repented, though neither speak to each other a single word on the subject of what has passed. And as his children, if he has any, will, on his return, hang about him, and soothe him with their caresses,

be is, on their account, ready to forgive, or at least to say nothing unpleasant to their mother.

If these traits in the conduct of the " untutored Indian," in domestic life, put the manners of more civilized nations to the blush, how much more severe is the reproach to social life, contained in the following account.

In the year 1771 (says the author already quoted), while I was residing on the Big Beaver, I passed by the door of an Indian, who was a trader, and had consequently a quantity of goods in his house. He was going with his wife to Pittsburgh, and they were shutting up the house, as no person remained in it during their absence. This shutting up was nothing else than putting a large hominy pounding block, with a few sticks of wood, outside against the door, so as to keep it closed. As I was looking at this man with attention, while he was so employed, he addressed me in these words: "See, my friend, this is an Indian lock that I am putting to my door." I answered, "Well enough; but I see you leave much property in the house; are you not afraid that those articles will be stolen while you are gone?" "Stolen! by whom?" "Why, by the Indians to be sure.' 99 "No, no," replied he, "no Indian would do such a thing; and unless a white man or white people should happen to come this way, I shall find all safe at my return."

THE ROCK OF THE MOTHER. Near the confluence of the Atabapo and the Rio Terni, there is a granite hummock that rises on the western bank, near the mouth of the Guasacari: it is called the Rock of the Guahiba Woman, or the Rock of the Mother, Piedra de la Madre. This name was given to it from a ́singular event, which is related by Humboldt, in his "Travels to the Equinoctial Regions of the New Continent."

"If," says this enterprising traveller, "in these solitary scenes, man scarcely leaves behind him any trace of his existence, it is doubly humiliating for a European to see perpetuated by the name of a rock, by one of those imperishable monuments of nature, the remembrance of the moral degradation of our species, and the contrast between the virtue of a savage, and the barbarism of civilized man!

"In 1797, the missionary of San Fernando had led his Indians to the mouth of the Rio Guaviare, on one of those hostile incursions, which are prohibited alike by religion and the Spanish laws. They found in an Italian hut, a Guahiba mother with three children, two of whom were still infants. They were occupied in preparing the flour of Cassava. Resistance was impossible; the father was gone to fish, and the mother tried in vain to flee with her children. Scarcely had she reached the savannah, when she was seized by the Indians of the mission, who go to hunt men, like the Whites and the Negroes in Africa. The mother and her children were found, and dragged to the bank of the river. The monk, seated in his boat, waited the issue of an expedition, of which he partook not the danger. Had

the mother made too violent a resistance, the Indians would have killed her, for everything is permitted when they go to the conquest of souls (à la conquista espiritual), and it is children in particular they seek to capture, in order to treat them, in the mission, as poitos, or slaves of the Christians. The prisoners were carried to San Fernando, in the hope that the mother would be unable to find her way back to her home, by land. Far from those children who had accompanied their father on the day on which she had been carried off, this unhappy woman showed signs of the deepest despair. She attempted to take back to her family the children who had been snatched away by the missionary, and fled with them repeatedly from the village of San Fernando, but the Indians never failed to seize her anew; and the missionary, after having caused her to be mercilessly beaten, took the cruel resolution of separating the mother from the two children who had been carried off with her. She was conveyed alone toward the missions of the Rio Negro, going up to the Atabapo. Slightly bound, she was seated at the bow of the boat, ignorant of the fate that awaited her; but she judged, by the direction of the sun, that she was removed further and further from her hut and her native country. She succeeded in breaking her bonds, threw herself into the water, and swam to the left bank of the Atabapo. The current carried her to a shelf of rock, which bears her name to this day. She landed, and took shelter in the woods; but the president of the missions ordered the Indians to row to the shore, and follow the traces of the Guahiba. In the evening she was brought back. Stretched upon the rock, la Piedra de la Madre, a cruel punishment was inflicted on her with those straps of manatee leather, which serve for whips in that country, and with which the alcades are always furnished. This unhappy woman, her hands tied behind her back with strong stalks of mavacure, was then dragged to the mission of Javita.

"She was there thrown into one of the caravanseras, that are called Casa del Rey. It was the rainy season, and night was profoundly dark. Forests, till then believed to be impenetrable, separated the mission of Javita from that of SanFernando, which was twentyfive leagues distant in a straight line. No other part is known than that of the rivers; no man ever attempted to go by land from one village to another, were they only a few leagues apart. But such difficulties do not stop a mother, who is separated from her children. Her children are at San Fernando de Atabapo; she must find them again, she must execute her project of delivering them from the hands of the Christians, of bringing them back to their father on the banks of the Guaviare The Guahiba was carelessly guarded in the caravansera. Her arms being wounded, the Indians of Javita had loosened her bonds, unknown to the missionary and the alcades. She succeeded, by the help of her teeth, in breaking them entirely; disappeared during the night; and at the fourth rising sun, was seen at the mission of San Fernando,

hovering around the hut where her children were confined. What the woman performed,' added the missionary, who gave us this sad narrative, 'the most robust Indian would not have ventured to undertake. She traversed the woods at a season when the sky is constantly covered with clouds, and the sun, during whole days, appears but for a few minutes. Did the course of the waters direct her way? The inundations of the rivers forced her to go far from the banks of the main stream, through the midst of woods, where the movement of the waters is almost imperceptible. How often must she have been stopped by the thorny lianas, that form a network around the trunks they entwine? How often must she have swum across the rivulets that run into the Atabapo? This unfortunate woman was asked how she had sustained herself during the four days? She said, That, exhausted with fatigue, she could find no other nourishment than those great black ants called vachacos, which climb the trees in long bands, to suspend on them their resinous nests.' We pressed the missionary to tell us, whether the Guahiba had peacefully enjoyed the happiness of remaining with her children; and if any repentance had followed this excess of cruelty. He would not satisfy our curiosity; but at our return from the Rio Negro, we learnt that the Indian mother was not allowed time to eure her wounds, but was again separated from her children, and sent to one of the missions of the Upper Oroonoko. There she died, refusing all kind of nourishment, as the savages do in great calamities.

"Such is the remembrance annexed to this fatal rock, to Piedra de la Madre."

MARRYING YOUTH AND AGE. Gumilla relates, in the History of the River Orinoco, that there is one nation which marries old men to girls, and old women to youths, that age may correct the petulance of youth. For, they say, that to join young persons equal in youth and imprudence in wedlock together, is to join one fool to another. The marriage of young men with old women is however only a kind of apprenticeship, for after they have served for some months, they are permitted to marry women of their own age.

LADY CAST AWAY ON THE COAST OF LABRADOR.

The following brief but striking narrative is related by Lieutenant Chappell, in his "Voyage to Newfoundland." The reader will only need it to be suggested, to discover the resemblance (notwithstanding the wide difference of scene and other circumstances) of this true story of Mrs. E., to Milton's beautiful creation of the Lady in the Masque of Comus.

We were much surprised (says Lieutenant Chappell) on visiting our good friend Mr. Pinson, to find a handsome female seated at the head of the table. The sight of a white woman was now a real gratification to us all; and our

officers were anxiously desirous to discover by what means she had been thrown upon the savage territory of Labrador. On inquiry, we found that she was the daughter of a respectable Canadian; who had early in life been married to a Mr. E, the master of an English Quebec trading vessel. In the beginning of Decem ber, 1812, the ship of her husband quitted the country in which she was born, on its return with a cargo to Europe; but during its voyage thither, it was wrecked near Bonne Bay, in the island of Newfoundland. The night was dreadfully tempestuous; and with great danger and difficulty Mrs. E reached the shore, in an open boat, scarcely capable of containing four persons. At length, however, the whole of the crew were safely landed; and immediately collected whatever could be saved from the floating wreck, and placed the articles under a sail cloth tent.

The winter had now set in with such rigor, that it was totally impossible to travel far in search of fishing settlements. Under these af. flicting circumstances, it was resolved to erect a hut for the officers, and another for the crew; by which means they hoped to secure themselves against the piercing cold of the climate. It was in this miserable state that the youthful and delicate Mrs. E lingered through a long and dismal winter, upon a rocky coast blocked up with an ocean of frozen fragments; and surrounded on the land side by snowy mountains and icy valleys. Both the lady and her companions were compelled to cut off their hair entirely; it was so strung with icicles, that it became exceedingly painful and troublesome. To add to the sufferings of this unfortunate lady, she found herself enceinte. The crew mutinied, swearing, with dreadful imprecations, that they would take away the life of her husband, because he had prudently refused them an immoderate share of the brandy that had been saved from the wreck; and the barbarous wretches even threw firebrands into the hut where she lay, although their whole stock of gunpowder was stowed within its walls. At length, the much wishedfor season of spring made its appearance; but instead of comfort, it brought additional misery. Hitherto, the affectionate attentions of her fond husband had been the solace and support of her life; but in the attempt to land a few casks of salted beef from the remains of the wreck, the boat overset, and he was drowned. Left thus destitute and friendless, among a gang of desperate miscreants, she had still courage to bear up against their brutal conduct; and as the summer advanced, she followed them barefooted through the woods, until they reached the fishing settlements in Bonne Bay. She was here but badly provided with food and necessaries; and was therefore easily prevailed on to go in a small vessel bound for Forteau, where she hoped to procure a passage for Quebec. On her arrival at Forteau, she took up her abode at the house of a Guernsey fisherman. Misfortune still attended her footsteps; and she was compelled by the conduct of the host to leave his

house. At this moment, Mr. Pinson generously offered her that asylum which her hardships, her sufferings, and above all, her delicate situation, demanded. By the earliest opportunity, the good merchant procured her a passage back to her parents; he also defrayed the passage money from his own purse, and supplied her plentifully with necessaries for the voyage. We afterwards heard, that Mrs. E. reached Quebec in safety, and shortly after gave birth to a male infant.

THE CUMBERLAND PACKET.

In the dreadful hurricane which took place at Antigua, on the 4th of September, 1804, several vessels were lost; and among others, the Duke of Cumberland Packet. Every precaution had been taken, by striking the yards and masts, to secure the vessel; and the cable had held so long, that some faint hope began to be entertained of riding out the gale, when several of the crew were so indiscreet, as to quit the deck for some refreshment; no sooner had they sat down, than a loud groan from the rest of the crew summoned them on deck. The captain ran forward, and exclaimed, "All's now over: Lord God have mercy upon us!". The cable had parted; the ship hung about two minutes by the stream and kedge, and then began to drive broadside on. At this moment the seamen, torn by despair, seemed for a moment to forget themselves; lamentations for their homes, their wives, and their children, resounded through the ship. Every man clung to a rope, and determined to stick to it as long as the ship remained entire. For an hour they drifted on, without knowing whither, the men continuing to hold fast by the rigging, while their bodies were beaten by the heaviest rain, and lashed by every wave. The most dreadful silence prevailed. Every one was too intent on his own approaching end, to be able to communicate his feelings to another; and nothing was heard but the howling of the tempest. The vessel drove towards the harbor of St. John's, and two alarm guns were fired, in order that the garrison might be spectators of their fate, for it was in vain to think of assistance. They soon drove against a large ship, and went close under her stern. A faint hope now appeared of being stranded on a sandy beach; and the captain therefore ordered the carpenter to get the hatchets all ready to cut away the masts, in order to make a raft for those who chose to venture on it. The vessel however drove with extreme violence on some rocks, and the cracking of her timbers below was distinctly heard. Every hope now vanished, and the crew already began to consider themselves as beings of another world. In order to ease the vessel, and if possible prevent her from parting, the mizen-mast and fore-masts were cut away, the main-mast being suffered to remain, in order to steady the vessel. The vessel had struck about two o'clock, and in half an hour afterwards the water was up to the lower deck. Never was day light more anxiously wished for, than by the

crew of this vessel. After having hung so long by the shrouds, they were forced to cling three hours longer before the dawn appeared. The sea was making a complete breach over the ship, which was laying on her beam ends; and the crew, stiff and benumbed, could with difficulty hold against the force of the waves, every one of which struck and nearly drowned them.

The break of day discovered to the wretched mariners all the horrors of their situation; the vessel was lying upon large rocks, at the foot of a craggy overhanging precipice, twice as high as the ship's main-mast; the wind and rain beat upon the crew with unabated violence, and the ship lay a miserable wreck. The first thoughts of the crew in the morning were naturally directed to the possibility of saving their lives; and they all agreed, that their only chance of doing so, was by means of the mizen-mast. The top-mast and top-gallant-mast were launched out, and reached within a few feet of the rock. An attempt was made by one of the crew, to throw a rope with a noose to the top of the rock; but instead of holding by the bushes, it brought them away. Another seaman who seemed from despair to have imbibed an extraordinary degree of courage, followed the first man out on the mast, with the intention of throwing himself from the end upon the mercy of the rock; he had proceeded to the extremity of the top-gallant-mast, and was on the point of leaping among the bushes, when the pole of the mast, unable to sustain his weight, gave way, and precipitated him into the bosom of the waves, from a height of forty feet. Fortunately he had carried down with him the piece of the broken mast, and instead of being dashed to pieces, as was expected, he kept himself above water until he was hoisted up. All hopes of being saved by the mizen-mast were now at an end; and while the crew were meditating in sullen silence on their situation, Mr Doncaster, the chief mate, unknown to any one, went out on the bowsprit, and having reached the end of the jib-boom, threw himself headlong into the water. He had scarcely fallen, when a tremendous wave threw him upon the rock, and left him dry; there he remained motionless, until a second wave washed him still farther up, when clinging to some roughness in the cliff, he began to scramble up the rock; and in about half an hour, he with infinite difficulty reached the summit of the cliff. The crew anxiously watched every step he took, and prayed for his safety, conscious that their own preservation depended solely upon it. Mr. Doncaster immediately went round to that part of the precipice nearest the vessel, and received a rope thrown from the main top, which he fastened to some trees. By means of this rope, the whole of the crew were, in the space of three hours, hoisted to the top of the cliff.

The whole of the ship's company having as sembled on the rock, bent their steps towards town. The plain before them had, in consequence of the heavy rains, become almost impassable; but after wading about three miles through fields of canes, and often plunged up to

the neck in water, they reached St. John's in safety; where they would have died for want of food and necessaries, had it not been for the kind offices of a Mulatto tailor, who supplied them with clothes, beds, and provisions, and did them other kind offices of humanity.

AN ONLY SURVIVOR.

In the latter end of the year 1748, Mr. Winslow, an eminent merchant of Boston, in New England, fitted out a vessel, the Howlet, for a trading voyage to the Gulf of Mexico, on board of which a negro, belonging to his brother, General Winslow, went as cook. No account being received of the vessel for several years, it was naturally concluded that she must have been cast away, and that the whole crew had perished; nor was it until twelve years after, that the fate of the vessel was discovered, in the following

manner.

negro.

General Winslow being in London

in the year 1760, had occasion to go on board a West India trader, lying in the river, when, to his great surprise, he found his old servant the On inquiring the circumstances which had brought him there, the negro stated, that the Howlet was wrecked near Cape Florida, when the crew were made prisoners by the Indians, who put them all to death except himself, whom they spared on account of his color. They sold him to a Spanish merchant of the Havana, with whom he continued rather more than ten years; when observing a New England ship, as he supposed, nearly two miles from the shore, he stripped himself and swam to her; he was taken on board, and in the capacity of cook, sailed in her to England.

THE HARPOONER TRANSPORT. The hired transport Harpooner, was lost near Newfoundland, in November, 1818; she had on board 385 men, women, and children, including the ship's company. The passengers consisted of detachments of several regiments, with their families, who were on their way to Quebec. On Saturday evening, November 10, a few minutes after nine o'clock, the second mate on watch called out, "the ship's aground; at which she slightly struck on the outermost rock of St. Shotts, in the Island of Newfoundland. She beat over, and proceeded a short distance, when she struck again, and filled; encircled among rocks, the wind blowing strong, the night dark, and a very heavy sea rolling, she soon fell over on her larboard beam-ends; and, to heighten the terror and alarm, a lighted candle communicated fire to some spirits in the master's cabin, which, in the confusion, was with difficulty extinguished.

The ship still driving over the rocks, her masts were cut away, by which some men were carried overboard. The vessel drifted over near the high rocks towards the main. In this situation every one became terrified: the suddenness of the sea rushing in, carried away the births and stauncheons between decks, when

men, women, and children, were drowned, and many were killed by the force with which they were driven against the loose baggage, casks, and staves, which floated below. All that possibly could, got upon deck; but from the crowd and confusion that prevailed, the orders of the officers and master to the soldiers and seamen were unavailing; death staring every one in the face; the ship striking on the rocks, as though she would instantly upset. The shrieking and pressing of the people to the starboard side was so violent, that several were much hurt. About eleven o'clock, the boats on the deck were washed overboard by a heavy sea: but even from the commencement of the disaster, the hopes of any individual being saved were but very small.

The

From this time, until four o'clock the next morning, all on the wreck were anxiously praying for the light to break upon them. The boat from the stern was in the meanwhile lowered down, when the first mate and four seamen, at the risk of their lives, pushed off to the shore. They with difficulty effected a landing upon the main land, behind a high rock, nearest to where the stern of the vessel had been driven. log-line was thrown from the wreck, with a hope that they might lay hold of it; but darkness, and the tremendous surf that beat, rendered it impracticable. During this awful time of suspense, the possibility of sending a line to them by a dog occurred to the master: the animal was brought aft, and thrown into the sea with a line tied round his middle, and with it he swam towards the rock upon which the mate and seamcn were standing. It is impossible to describe the sensations which were excited at seeing this faithful dog struggling with the waves; and on reaching the summit of the rock repeatedly dashed back again by the surf into the sea; until at length, by unceasing exertions, he effected a landing. One end of the line being on board, a stronger rope was hauled and fastened to the rock.

At about six o'clock in the morning of the 11th, the first person was landed by this means; and afterwards, by an improvement in rigging the rope, and placing each individual in slings, they were with greater facility extricated from the wreck; but during this passage, it was with the utmost difficulty that the unfortunate sufferers could maintain their hold, as the sea beat over them and some were dragged to the shore in a state of insensibility. Lieutenant Wilson was lost, being unable to hold on the rope with his hands; he was twice struck by the sea, fell backwards out of the slings, and after swimming for a considerable time amongst the floating wreck, by which he was struck on the head, he perished. Many who threw themselves overboard, trusting for their safety to swimming, were lost: they were dashed to pieces by the surf on the rocks, or by the floating of the wreck.

The rope at length, by constant working, and by swinging across the sharp rock, was cut in two; and there being no means of replacing it, the spectacle became more than ever terrific;