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mules were laden with gold, and the mine was not yet exhausted. The governor, declaring he was impatient to fulfil his promise, left a guard under the command of his lieutenant, and returned to the Assumption, accompanied by the Jesuit and his son. On their arrival, he conducted them to his palace; and when he had deposited his riches in a place of safety, repaired to the convent to give orders for his niece's removal, and to tell her that the next day she was to become the wife of Camire.

Words are too feeble to express the excess of surprise and joy which Angelina experienced. She could not help fancying it was all a dream, so unexpectedly had it occurred; but, long accustomed to implicit submission, she obeyed without asking any questionS Her coarse stuff garment was thrown aside to be replaced by one of the richest silk, ornamented with gold; the bandeau was taken from her modest brow, and her long silken tresses fell in graceful curls on her shoulders. The emotions of her soul spread a lively hue on her cheek; her eyes, which she dared not raise from the ground, seemed to throw fire from beneath their long dark lashes; looking a thousand times more lovely than on the day she had been so providentially saved from the serpent, she repaired to the parlour where Pedreras had left the happy Camire alone.

On her entrance, our hero, bending one knee to the ground, said:-" Listen to me, thou best and loveliest of women! before you comply with your uncle's request, and learn the powerful motives which forced me to fly from you. To obtain your hand, Don Pedreras required that 1 should put him in possession of a gold mine. I knew of none but those in my native country; if I had conducted him to these, I should have devoted my brethren to the cruelty of the Spaniards. This, my Angelina, I never could have done it is to you, I repeat it, at the moment when I behold you, beaming with attractions, that I could sacrifice my love to my duty and my country. But love inspired me; I forsook my virtuous father, and returned among the Guaranis. Their land teems with gold; with their assistance, during the space of a year, I have been employed in transporting this gold to a chosen spot at an immense distance from the country where I found it; in collecting riches, not with the hope of becoming deserving of you, but at least to obtain your hand. A hundred times have I taken this long journey; and I would have repeated it a thousand times had it been necessary. Your image constantly accompanied me, and made me tremble lest my gift should not be of sufficient value; but Pedreras has deigned to accept it; he does not know how to estimate the treasure which he be

stows on me; but it is from you alone that I will to-day receive it."

Angelina listened to him with inexpressible delight. When he had concluded, she presented him her hand, but tears of joy were her only reply.

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The transported Guarani conducted her immediately to her uncle's dwelling, where, the same night, at twelve o'clock, Maldonado bestowed on them the nuptial benediction. thing could equal the happiness they felt, unless it be that which the good Jesuit experienced. They now thought that nothing could alter their bliss, and that they were arrived at the summit of human felicity; but they were mistaken, for fate had still fresh troubles in store for them.

The governor soon quitted Camire and his bride, to visit again the gold mine, which was nearly exhausted. Such immense treasures ought to have satisfied his avarice, if it were possible to satisfy that rapacious passion; but having easily discovered that the earth, which had been searched, did not produce metal, he concluded that the Guarani was well acquainted with many extensive mines from which he had drawn this gold. Too rich, however, to dare to complain, and standing too much in awe of the Jesuit, to dare to wrest the secret which was hidden from him by unjustifiable means, he determined to adopt a different method, but which, nevertheless, conducted him to what he aimed at. He assembled the whole colony, and declared to them that he had just received orders from the King of Spain immediately to proceed in his exertions to compel the savages to submit to their government, and particularly the Guaranis. Then turning towards Camire, whom these words had greatly affected, "My nephew," said he, "it is in your hands that I place the interests of Spain; you are my adopted son, I give you the rank of my Adelantade;* and command you, in the name of his Majesty, to depart, with six hundred soldiers, to discover and reduce into subjection, the country of the Guaranis."

All the colony applauded this choice. The astonished Camire had not the power of answering their congratulations; he was, however, hailed by every one as the Adelantade. Pedreras renewed the orders he had given, and commanded him to depart before the expiration of the week.

The unhappy Camire flew with his wife to ask the advice of Maldonado.

The worthy Jesuit remained for a few moments wrapped in thought; then taking a hand of each, said, "You are in a perilous situation;

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'Camire neither can nor ought to obey. If he refuse, he will be suspected of treachery; in taking up his defence, I shall be thought as culpable; and the governor, I fear, is capable of any thing. You have only one alternative, which is to fly this very night and seek an asylum with the Guaranis. I will follow you, my children; yes, I will, notwithstanding my advanced age. Armed with the cross, I will preach to Camire's brethren; I shall lead them to Christianity, as I have led him. In that state of innocence and peace you will always reinain attached to each other; and I shall fulfil my duty, I shall serve my God, and my happiness will be equal to yours."

Jesuit missionaries were selected to assist this aged priest. This treaty dispelled the fears of the Guaranis; they repaired to the Assumption, and divided themselves into several tribes, each of which built a small village, where, under the paternal authority of a Jesuit, every individual learned to cultivate the earth, and the most useful arts. The number of these tribes soon encreased; in 1784 they consisted of thirty thousand families. Every village had its Alcade, which was annually chosen by the inhabitants. The vicar watched over the execution of the

laws, which were neither numerous nor severe; the greatest punishments consisted in fasting or imprisonment; and it seldom happened that there was any cause for their being inflicted; for this peaceful and innocent people had not even the idea of thelt or murder, because the Jesuits did not permit any foreigners to enter their country. The small tax which the King of Spain required, was easily paid by exchanging the sugar, tobacco, and cotton, which a large portion of land, cultivated by every inhabitant, who each dedicated two days in the week to this labour, produced. The overplus of this harvest was destined for the support of the sick, the aged, and the fatherless. The young men were taught the art of war; on festivals they took from the public armoury their swords and muskets, and after having been exercised, returned them again to the armourer. Often did the invading Portuguese or Brazilians experience the effects of their

After having displayed the most lively marks of gratitude to Maldonado, Camire and his beloved partner immediately prepared for their departure. Our hero procured a canoe, in which, as soon as the shades of night ha descended, they all three embarked. Camire skilfully managed the oars, and they rowed up the river as far as the entrance of the mountains; here they landed, and after having sunk their canoe, followed a desert path which led through a thick forest; and, after continuing their route for three days, found themselves in the midst of the Gua ranis. Camire met with a truly fraternal reception; he told them what had happened to him, and what he owed the Jesuit; upon hearing of which, all the savages overwhelmed him with attentions, and instantly set to work to build him a cabin, and one also for Angelina and her hus-discipline and their courage. The villages were band. These habitations were erected on large trees, and were entered with the assistance of a ladder, which was afterwards removed; this precaution being necessary to insure safety from the intrusion of wild beasts and inundations. Soon established in their new abode, freed from all care and anxiety, and the troubles which men have so laboriously imposed upon themselves, dedicating their existence to love and friendship, the happy couple tasted the sweets of freedom and innocence united beneath their roof.

Beloved by that mild nation, Maldonado preached the precepts of his religion, and easily converted those simple beings who witnessed and admired his virtues.

All the Guaranis were baptized, and became willing subjects to the King of Spain, on condition that he should send among them no other missionaries than Maldonado's colleagues. The Court of Madrid acceded to this proposal, and

filled with schools for the instruction of children in reading and writing; they were taught every useful art and trade according to the til nts with which nature had endowed them; and nothing was wanting among them but luxury, vice, and poverty.

The author of this astonishing change, the young Camire, easily obtained the forgiveness of Pedreras; who, when the Guaranis left their native woods, had been put in possession of the gold mines. He continued to rule under him with wisdom, till the governor's rapaciousness being made known to the court of Madrid, he was recalled, and his nephew appointed his successor. Surrounded with affluence, Camire and Angelina did not neglect their first and best friend, the aged Maldonado, who continued to bless them with his presence and advice, and spent his declining years in happiness beneath the roof of his adopted son.

E. R.

ON AVARICE.

EVERY person conversant in literature, his read the charming letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. Her husband, Ambassador at Constantinople, was a man of wit and talents. Born to a good fortune, he augmented it by a strict economy, which gradually degenerated into systematic avarice

Mr. Montague possessed a very extensive landed property; his passion was for leaving it unincumbered to his descendants.

He had an only son, destined to be of a still more extraordinary character than his father, and who, in his early youth, having run away from school, and turned chimney-sweeper, in his mature age renounced his country, and turned mahometan. That son, as his father allowed him nothing, on that account spent the more, and contracted in a short time, debts to the amount of above a hundred thousand pounds sterling.

Mr. Mon.agu perceiving that this disposition of his son would disappoint all his hopes, disinherited him, although he loved him sincerely. His avarice was the governing principle of his political life. He was always determined in the part which he took in public affairs, and his conduct in Parliament, of which he was a member, by the object which he constantly kept in view, of keeping his estates up to their full value. For example, he defended with great warmth the establishment of the militia, because he regarded it as a permanent force, destined to protect his possessions from foreign invaders.

His will is a master-piece in refinement. Having disinherited his son, he left all his estates to the second son of his daughter, the Countess of Bute. The design of this disposal was to oblige Lord and Lady Bute to save part of their income in order to leave to their eldest son a for une proportional to that of his brother.

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He had a coal mine, which annually brought in above eight thousand pounds. This he left to Lady Bute, upon condition that she bought estates with the produce, of which she was to receive the rents, but after her death, they were likewise to become the property of her second son. As this disposal appeared somewhat contrary to the laws, it was discussed, found right, and confirmed in the House of Lords. Mr. Mon- || tagu had foreseen the objection which might be made to this disposition, and had discovered the only combination which could render it legal and effectual.

Does not this excessive inquietude as to what would become of his possessions, even long after he was himself forgotten, tolerably explain the love of glory, which is however a more reasonable sentiment; for it is a desirable good to be esteemed by mankind, and the enjoyments of the imagination are as real as those of the senses. Is it not as natural to be pleased with the good opinion of those who come after us, as with that of our contemporaries who live far from us, and whom we shall never see?

Those moralists who ascribe all our actions to some motive of real utility, do not understand the human heart. This is not the place to investigate such a question, we shall confine ourselves to the sole phenomenon of avarice. Money was at first loved as a means of procuring the comforts of life; and people ended in loving money for its own sake, and in depriving themselves, in order to preserve it, of those very enjoy

ments which alone can make it desirable. In the same manner the chace was at first followed for the sake of the game, and afterwards for its own sake, without caring for the game.

Avarice does not appear to be derived from any natural sentiment of uncivilized man; it is, like many other passions, the produce of society. It presupposes generally an exaggerated uneasiness about the future; the savage knows only present enjoyments. He sells his hammock for a bottle of brandy, without troubling himself with what is to happen on the morrow.

We have at home a curious instance of avarice. The late Earl of Bath, just before his death, sent for his brother, General Pulteney, who was as avaricious as himself, gave him the keys of his bureau and of his strong box, and acquainted him with the immense treasures there hoarded. The General said to him: "Cannot you sur render these keys and your affairs to somebody else? I am seventy-eight years of age, I am infirm, and have no need of your treasures.” “I am still older and more infirm," replied Lord Bath; "I am dying, and I am in still less need of riches than you are."

This passion is extremely varied in its causes and effects; in many men it is rather a madness ( Ardor, furor, libido), than a passion; they gather and hoard guineas, as others de shells or medals. Chance or fancy began the collection, the more it increases the more they are attached to it; and they end by making it the sole pursuit and in

It was remarked that he had never seen the terest of their life. young man whom he made his heir.

What reflections do not these refined combinations of an extravagant passion give rise to!

Avarice is said to be the vilest but not the most unhappy of passions. But this opinion is con. trary to that which universally prevails. The

Peterborough, one of the bravest and most ge. nerous of men, was once accosted by a poor man begging charity, calling him my Lord Marlbo

latin word miser, (miserable) occasionally denoted an avaricious man, among the Romans; for instance in the Self-tormentor of Terence, act iii. sc. 2. "Sed habet patrem quendam avidum, || rough. "Me, Marlborough!" cried he, 66 to miserum, atque aridum;” and we have adopted || the name miser; and the Italians similarly term

such a one misero.

Seneca says, "Many things are wanting to the indigent, the miser wants every thing." Useless to others, a burthen to himself, no means are left for him to be good for any thing but to die.

The covetous man, says Charron, is more unhappy than the poor man, as a jealous husband is more miserable than a cuckold.

Quevedo tells us that a miser is a man who knows where a treasure is hidden.

It is possible that a miser, as well as a devotee, may enjoy his privations, but to want fuel in winter, and broth in sickness, are evils never. theless. The miser would doubtless prefer to be well lodged, well clothed, and well fed, if it cost him nothing.

What indeed is avarice? a voluntary poverty, accompanied with toil, inquietude and contempt. Every passion in which fear predominates, can be no otherwise than vile and miserable. Avarice is particularly odious, as it excludes all natural and social affections.

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prove I am not him, take this." The beggar was much surprised at receiving a guinea for having mistaken a name.

I shall add another singularity. I was in my youth acquainted with a man in whom avarice was united to all the social and domestic virtues. He was a good master, a good husband, a good father, even a good friend. As a magistrate, he acted with justice and integrity. Although he was excessively parsimonious in all his personal wants, he always wished his wife to appear like other women in her station; and he spared no necessary expence for the education of his son and daughter, but he calculated this expence as closely as possible. In thirty years he never raised the leases of any of his lands, although their value was nearly doubled in that time; but he required his tenants to pay their rents exactly on the appointed days, on pain of being turned out at the expiration of their lease.

He often lent money, when he was sure of being reimbursed, but he never would take more than four per cent. interest, although he might legally have taken five. ""Tis enough," said "when the capital is not endangered; my

he,

Will you judge immediately in which classlands do not bring me in so much." of vices avarice is to be placed? It is the only one which is incompatible with grandeur, benevolence, generosity, humanity, confidence, and candour; with love and true friendship, with paternal tenderness and filial affection. What virtue remains then for the miser? What piness can a man without virtue enjoy?

One of his particular friends, whose ill-conduct in the employment of his fortune he was grieved at, had an urgent occasion to borrow 6001. He addressed himself to his friend, and made his distress known: "With your easiness, and the hap-disorder of your affairs, I am well acquainted,” says our miser," and, therefore, I cannot in conscience lend you a sum which you are not sure of being able to return, and which I reserve for my daughter's portion." "Well!" replied the friend, "I have got my wife's diamond necklace in my pocket; she has permitted me to pawn it, but the usurer to whom I applied will not lend me the money on it for less than one and a half per cent. per month." "In this case," said the miser, "give me the necklace, I will lend you the 6001. without more than common interest. As I run no risk as to being repaid, I do not wish to receive any benefit from a service which I render to my friend, and which costs me nothing?"

It has been said that there have been illustrious villains, but no illustrious misers. This opinion is, however, contradicted by the example of the celebrated Duke of Marlborough. This man coveted glory, but he still more coveted gold, and in order to satisfy this shameful cupidity, no means were too shameful for him. A person who wished to obtain a lucrative place, went to beg his assistance in procuring it. "If I obtain it," said he, "I have a thousand guineas at your Grace's service, and you may be assured I shall not mention it to any one." "Give me two thousand," answered the Duke, "and tell it, if you chuse, to all the world."

On the evening before the battle of Hochstet, Prince Eugene went into the Duke's tent, to consult with him upon the plan for the next day. As soon as he retired, the Duke scolded his servant outrageously for having lighted six waxcandles in his tent, when two would have been quite sufficient.

- His avarice was universally known.

Lord

I formerly met with a nobleman who was very rich, very proud, and very covetous, he wore laced and embroidered clothes, diamond rings and buckles, but burnt tallow candles at home. Every year he gave one magnificent dinner to his acquaintance, and the rest of the year his kitchen was very little used. He had made it a rule to spend only half his income;

but sometimes he took a fancy to exceed his own monthly allowance; then he turned his strong box into a pawnbroker's shop, and deposited a diamond ring, or a gold snuff-box as a pledge for the money he took, which he borrowed from himself at ten per cent. and which he faithfully replaced with interest in the following month, when he redeemed the pledges.

I also knew a young nobleman who had lost a considerable sum at play, and had no means of satisfying his debt of honour. He applied to his uncle, who was very fond of him, but was very avaricious: he was, however, so much moved with the despair of his nephew, that he lent him the money. A few months after the

young lord waited on his uncle with proposals for an arrangement, by which he meant to repay the sum lent. His uncle flew into a great passion, and said to him, "O thou wretch, why comest thou to remind me of the folly I have been guilty of? I had forgotten it. If thou ever mention the subject to me again, I will never see thee more." This is certainly a stroke of avarice of a very particular stamp.

What shall we conclude from these apparently contradictory observations? That there is nothing more supple than the human heart, and that there are no affections, however dissimilar, which cannot form themselves, and continue their existence in it without disquietude.

MR. EDITOR,

CURIOUS ACCOUNT OF TWO ELEPHANTS.

SINCE I sent you the interesting account of the effects of music on two elephants, I have met with some curious circumstances respecting those animals, which I presume will be no less acceptable to your readers; they are taken from a French journal which was published half a year before the concert was performed.

cularly. He raised it with his trunk, pushed up the door, and entered into the second apartment, where he took his breakfast quietly, and appeared to be perfectly easy.

In the mean time the female (Peggy) was conducted into the first lodge. The mutual attachment of these animals was recollected, and likewise the difficulty with which they were parted, and induced to travel separately. From the time of their departure from the Hague, they had not seen each other not even at Cambrai, where they passed the winter in 1797. They had only been sensible that they were near neighbours. Hans never lay down, but always stood upright, or leaning against the bars of his cage, and kept watch for Peggy, who lay down and slept every night. On the least noise, he sent forth a cry

These elephants were taken from the menagerie of the Prince of Orange, at the House in the Wood, near the Hague; the place for their reception had been previously prepared: it is a spacious hall in the museum of natural history, adjoining to the national botanical garden in Paris, well aired and lighted. A stove warms it in winter, and it is divided into two apartments, which have a communication by means of a large door, which opens and shuts perpendicularly. The enclosure consists of rails made of strong and thick beams, and a second enclosure, breast-high, surrounds it, in order to keep spec-perienced on finding herself at liberty. She did tators from too near an approach.

to alarm his mate.

The joy they felt on seeing each other again, was thus expressed: When Peggy entered, she emitted a cry denoting the pleasure she ex

not immediately observe Hans, who was feeding in the inner lodge; neither was he directly aware that she was so near him; but the keeper having called him, he turned round, and on the instant the two elephants rushed into each other's embraces, and sent forth cries of joy, so animated and so loud, that they shook the whole hall. They breathed also through their trunks with such violence, that the blast resembled an inpetuous gust of wind.

The morning after their arrival in Paris, these animals were put in possession of their new habitation. The first who entered was the male, (Hans) who seemed to go in with a degree of suspicion, after having issued with precaution from his cage. His first care was to survey the place. He examined every bar with his trunk, and tried their solidity. The large screws by which they are held together were placed on the outside; these he sought for, and having found them, trial to turn them, but was not able. When he came to the partition, or gate which divides the two apartments, he found it was only fixed by an iron bar, which rose perpendi-ness. She, in particular put her finger (the ex

The joy of Peggy was the most lively she expressed it by quickly flapping her ears, which she made to move with astonishing velocity, and drew her trunk over Hans with the utmost tender

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