tion which a fond parent feels in hearing the praises of a beloved offspring. Yet this little absence appeared an age; a variety of fears presented dangers in a variety of shapes, and the object of all my care, of all my affection, was now pressed closer to my heart than ever.

Amidst these sweet and never-to-be-forgotten sensations, Mr. Harris entered my chamber. He abruptly enquired how I found myself; and, seating hin self by the side of my bed, began to converse on family affairs. I was too feeble to say much; and he had not the delicacy to consider that Mrs. Jones, my nurse, and almost a stranger to me, was a witness to our conversation.

"Well!" said Mr. Harris, "what do you mean to do with your child?"

I made no answer.

"I will tell you," added he; "Tie it to your back and work for it."

I shivered with horror.

"Prison doors are open, continued Mr. Har ris. "Tom will die in a gaol; and what is to become of you?"

I remained silent.

Miss Robinson now made her visit. She looked at me without uttering a syllable; but while she contemplated my infant's features, her innocent sleeping face, her little dimpled hands folded on her breast, she murmured, "Poor little wretch! Poor thing! It would be a mercy if it pleased God to take it!" My agony of mind was scarcely supportable.

About three weeks after this period, letters arrived, informing Mr. Robinson that his creditors were still inexorable, and that the place of his concealment was known. He was cautioned not to run the hazard of an arrest; indeed he knew that such an event would complete his ruin with Mr.

Harris, from whom he should not receive any assistance. He communicated this intelligence to me, and at the same time informed me, that he must absolutely depart from Trevecca immediately. I was still extremely feeble, for my mental sufferings had impaired my corporeal strength almost as much as the perils I had recently encountered. But the idea of remaining at Trevecca without my husband was more terrible than the prospect of annihilation, and I replied, without a hesitating thought, "I am ready to go with you."

My good nurse, who was a very amiable woman, and under forty years of age, conjured me to delay my journey. She informed me, that it would be dangerous to undertake it in my then weak state. My husband's liberty was in danger, and my life appeared of little importance; for even at that early period of my days I was already weary

of existence.

On the succeeding morning we departed. Mrs. Jones insisted on accompanying me on the first day's journey. Mr. Robinson, my nurse, and myself, occupied a post-chaise; my Maria was placed on a pillow on Mrs. Jones's lap. The paleness of death overspread my countenance, and the poor honest people of the mountains and the villages saw us depart with sorrow, though not without their blessings. Neither Mr. Harris, nor the enlightened females of Tregunter expressed the smallest regret, or solicitude on the occasion. We reached Abergavenny that evening. My little remaining strength was exhausted, and I could proceed no further. However singular these persecutions may appear, Mr. Robinson knows that they are not in the smallest degree exaggerated.

After experiencing much embarrassment, the consequence of extravagance and fashionable folly, the stage appeared to be the only resource left; to

I

which Mrs. Robinson was advised by her particular friends, among whom was Mr. Sheridan. "At his earnest entreaties," continues she, "I recited some, passages from Shakespeare: I was alarmed and timid; but the gentleness of his manners, and the impressive encouragement he gave me, dissipated my fears, and tempted me to go on.

Mr. Sheridan had then recently purchased a share of. Drury-lane theatre, in conjunction with Mr. Lacey and Doctor Ford: he was already celebrated as the author of The Rivals and the Duenna, and his mind was evidently pourtrayed in his manners, which were strikingly and bewitchingly attractive.

The encouragement which I received in this essay, and the praises which Mr. Sheridan lavishly bestowed, determined me to make a public trial of my talents; and several visits, which were rapidly repeated by Mr. Sheridan, at length produced an arrangement for that period. My intention was intimated to Mr. Garrick, who, though he had for some seasons retired from the stage, kindly promised protection, and as kindly undertook to be my tutor.

The only objection which I felt to the idea of appearing on the stage, was my then increasing state of domestic solicitude. I was, at the period when Mr. Sheridan was first presented to me, some months advanced in that situation which afterwards, by the birth of Sophia, made me a second time a mother. Yet such was my imprudent fondness for Maria, that I was still a nurse; and my constitution was very considerably impaired by the effects of these combining circumstances.

An appointment was made in the Green-room of Drury-lane theatre. Mr. Garrick, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Brereton, and my husband, were present; I there recited the principal scenes of Juliet, (Mr. Brereton repeating those of Romeo,) and Mr. Gar

rick, without hesitation, fixed on that character as the trial of my debut.

It is impossible to describe the various emotions of hope and fear that inspired my mind when the important day was announced in the playbills. İ wrote to the Duchess of Devonshire at Chatsworth, informing her of my purposed trial, and eceived a kind letter of approbation, sanctioning my plan, and wishing me success. Every longing of my heart seemed now to be completely gratified; and, with zeal bordering on delight, I prepared for my approaching effort.

Mr. Garrick had been indefatigable at the rehearsals; frequently going through the whole character of Romeo himself, until he was completely exhausted with the fatigue of recitation. This was only a short period before the death of that distinguished actor.

The theatre was crowded with fashionable spectators; the Green-room and Orchestra (where Mr. Garrick sat during the night) were thronged with critics. My dress was a pale pink satin, trimmed with crape, richly spangled with silver; my head was ornamented with white feathers, and my mo. numental suit, for the last scene, was white satin, and completely plain; excepting that I wore a veil of the most transparent gauze, which fell quite to my feet from the back of my head, and a string of beads round my waist, to which was suspended a cross appr. priately fashioned

When I approached the side wing my heart throbbed convulsively; I then began to fear that my resolution would fail, and I leaned upon the nurse's arm, almost fainting. Mr. Sheridan and several other friends encouraged me to proceed: and at length, with trembling limbs and fearful apprehension, I approached the audience.

THE BLESSINGS OF PEACE;

OR,

THE VISION REALIZED.

She comes, benign enchantress, heaven-born PEACE,
With mercy beaming in her radiant eye!
She bids the horrid line of battle cease,

And at her glance the savage passions die!
Tis Nature's Festival: let earth rejoice,

Vanquish'd and conqueror, pour exulting songs,

In distant regions with according voice,

Let MAN the vict❜ry bless-its prize to MAN belongs!

HELEN MARIA WILLIAMS,

should WAR for ever desolate the earth,

WHY and render men, who are capable of such

pure and friendly affections, so hostile to each other? Oh! why should those powers of mind, which, if directed to the cultivation of the arts of peace, would be productive of social delight and social comfort, become the sources of misery and ruin? Wherefore should one nation endeavour, even at the risk of its own tranquillity, and at the certain loss of heaps of its treasure and multitudes of its most valuable lives, to invade the boundaries and seize the possessions of another? How long shall this criminal cupidity, this impious thirst of power, this insatiable spirit of grasping at every thing continue? Have the children of men ceased to be mortal, or are their powers of enjoyment so enlarged that nothing short of what will last for ages, and supply the wants of thousands, seems sufficient to satisfy the cravings of each individual? Infatuated, short sighted men! when will your.. guilty folly subside.-What calamities must ye endure ere the voice of reason can be heard-and