I looked upon him, I could not forbear laughing at myself, insomuch that I put my own face out of countenance. The poor gentleman was so sensible of the ridicule, that I found he was ashamed of what he had done. On the other side, I myself had no great reason to triumph, for as I went to touch my forehead, I missed the place, and clapped my finger upon my upper lip. Beside, as my nose was exceedingly prominent, I gave it two or three unlucky knocks as I was playing my hand about my face, and aiming at some other part of it.

13. I saw two other gentlemen by me, who were in the same ridiculous circumstances. These had made a foolish swap, between a couple of thick bandy legs, and two long trap-sticks that had no calves to them. One of these looked like a man walking upon stilts, and was so lifted up in the air, above his ordinary hight, that his head turned round with it, while the other made such awkward circles, as he attempted to walk, that he scarce knew how to move forward upon his new supporters. Observing him to be a pleasant kind of a fellow, I stuck my cane in the ground, and told him I would lay a bottle of wine, that he did not march up to it on a straight line, in a quarter of an hour.

14. The heap was at last distributed among the two sexes, who made a most piteous sight, as they wandered up and down under the pressure of their several burdens. The whole plain was filled with murmurs and complaints, groans and +lamentations. Jupiter at length taking compassion on the poor mortals, ordered them a second time to lay down their loads, with a design to give every one his own again. They discharged themselves with a great deal of pleasure; after which, the phantom, who had led them into such gross delusions, was commanded to disappear. There was sent in her stead, a goddess of quite a different figure her motions were steady and composed, and her aspect serious, but cheerful. She, every now and then, cast her eyes toward heaven, and fixed them on Jupiter. Her name was Patience. She had no sooner placed herself by the Mount of Sorrows, than, what I thought very remarkable, the whole heap sunk to such a degree that it did not appear a third so big as before. She afterward returned every man his own proper calamity, and teaching him how to bear it in the most +commodious manner,

he marched off with it contentedly, being very well pleased that he had not been left to his own choice, as to the kind of evil which fell to his lot.

15. Beside the several pieces of morality to be drawn from this vision, I learnt from it, never to repine at my own misfortunes, or to envy the happiness of another; since it is impossible for any man to form a right judgment of his neighbor's sufferings; for which reason also, I am determined never to think too lightly of another's complaints, but to regard the sorrows of my fellow-creatures with sentiments of humanity and compassion.

"AND Ruth said, Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee for whither thou goest, I will go and where thou lodgest, I will lodge thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me and more also, if aught but death part thee and me."

1. FAREWELL? O no! it may not be;

My firm resolve is heard on high:
I will not breathe farewell to thee,
Save only in my dying sigh.

I know not, that I now could bear
Forever from thy side to part,
And live without a friend to share
The treasur'd sadness of my heart.

2. I did not love, in former years,
To leave thee *solitary; now,

When sorrow dims thine eyes with tears,
And shades the beauty of thy brow,
I'll share the trial and the pain;
And strong the furnace fires must be,
To melt away the willing chain

That binds a daughter's heart to thee.

3. I will not boast a martyr's might,
To leave my home without a sigh;
The dwelling of my past delight,
The shelter where I hop'd to die.

In such a duty, such an hour,

The weak are strong, the timid, brave,

For love puts on an angel's power,

And faith grows mightier than the grave.

4. It was not so, ere he we lov'd,

And vainly strove with heaven to save,
Heard the low call of death, and mov'd
With holy calmness to the grave,
Just at that brightest hour of youth,
When life, spread out, before us lay,
And charm'd us with its tones of truth,
And colors, radiant as the day.

5. When morning's tears of joy were shed,
Or nature's evening tincense rose,
We thought upon the grave with dread,
And shudder'd at its dark repose.
But all is alter'd now: of death

The morning techoes sweetly speak,
And like my lov'd one's dying breath,
The evening +breezes fan my cheek.

6. For rays of heaven tserenely bright,
Have gilt the caverns of the tomb;
And I can ponder with delight,
On all its gathering thoughts of gloom.
Then, mother, let us haste away

To that bless'd land to Israel given,
Where faith, tunsadden'd by decay,

Dwells nearest to its native heaven.

7. We'll stand within the temple's bound,

In courts by kings and prophets trod;
We'll bless, with tears, the sacred ground,
And there be earnest with our God,
Where peace and praise forever reign,
And glorious tanthems duly flow,
Till seraphs learn to catch the strain
Of heaven's devotions, here below.

8. But where thou goest, I will go;

With thine my earthly lot is cast;
In pain and pleasure, joy and woe,
Will I attend thee to the last.
That hour shall find me by thy side;

And where thy grave is, mine shall be ;
Death can but for a time divide

My firm and faithful heart from thee.

CXXII. FAMILY OF MARCO BOZZARIS.

FROM STEVENS.

STEVENS was a celebrated American traveler, who visited the family of Marco Bozzaris, which he describes in this extract.

MARCO BOZZARIS was a leader of the Greeks in their revolution. He was killed in battle at Missolonghi, a Greek town, in 1823. His last words were, "To die for liberty is a pleasure, not a pain." MUSTAPHA PACHA was leader of the Turkish troops.

1. MOVING on beyond the range of ruined houses, though still within the line of crumbling walls, we came to a spot, perhaps as interesting as any that Greece, in her best days, could show. It was the tomb of Marco Bozzaris! No *monumental marble emblazoned his deeds and fame; a few round stones, piled over his head, which, but for our guide, we should have passed without noticing, were all that marked his grave.

2. I would not disturb a proper reverence for the past, Time covers, with its dim and twilight glories, both distant scenes and the men who acted in them; but to my mind, Miltiades was not more of a hero at Marathon, or Leonidas at Thermopyla, than Marco Bazzaris at Missolonghi. When they went out against the hosts of Persia, Athens and Sparta were great and free, and they had the prospect of glory and the praise of men, - to the Greeks always dearer than life. But when the Suliote chief drew his sword, his country lay bleeding at the feet of a giant, and all Europe condemned the Greek revolution as fool-hardy and desperate.

3. For two months, with but a few hundred men, protected only by a ditch, and a slight parapet of earth, he defended the town, where his body now rests, against the whole Egyptian army. In stormy weather, living upon bad and unwholesome bread, with no covering but his cloak, he passed his days and nights in constant vigil; in every assault his sword cut down the foremost assailant; and his voice, rising above the din of battle, struck terror into the hearts of the enemy. In the struggle which ended with his life, with two thousand men, he proposed to attack the whole army of Mustapha Pacha, and called upon all who were willing to die for their country, to stand forward.

4. The whole band advanced, to a man. Unwilling to sacrifice so many brave men in a death-struggle, he chose three hundred, the sacred number of the Spartan band, his true and trusty Suliotes. At midnight, he placed himself at their head, directing that not a shot should be fired, till he sounded his bugle; and his last command was, "If you lose sight of me, seek me in the pacha's tent." In the moment of victory, and while ordering the pacha to be seized, he received a ball in the loins; his voice still rose above the din of battle, cheering his men, until he was struck by another ball in the head, and borne dead from the field of his glory.

5. But the most interesting part of our day at Missolonghi was to come. Returning from a ramble round the walls, we noticed a large, square house, which our guide told us, was the residence of Constantine, the brother of Marco Bozzaris. We were all interested in this intelligence; and our interest was in no small degree increased, when he added, that the widow and two of the children of the Suliote chief were living with his brother. The house was surrounded by a high stone-wall, a large gate stood invitingly open, and we turned toward it in the hope of catching a glimpse of the inhabitants; but before we reached the gate our interest had increased to such a point, that, after consulting with our guide, we requested him to say, that if it would not be considered an intrusion, three travelers, two of them Americans, would feel honored in being permitted to pay their respects to the widow and children of Marco Bozzaris.

6. We were invited in, and shown into a large room on the right, where three Greeks were sitting cross-legged on a +divan, smoking the long Turkish pipe. Soon after, the brother entered, a man about fifty, of middling hight, spare built, and wearing a Bavarian uniform, as holding a Colonel's *commission in the service of king Otho. In the dress of the dashing Suliote, he would have better looked the brother of Marco Bozzaris, and I might then more easily have recognized the daring warrior, who, on the field of battle, in a moment of extremity, was deemed, by universal acclamation, worthy of succeeding the fallen hero. Now, the straight, military frock coat, buttoned tight across the breast, the stock,