a man attempt to justify the horrible, and most frequently compulsory, suttees of the poor Indian widows, as to expect that European youth and beauty should remain single for fear of his ill-natured jokes, ing bitter sarcasms against a feeble woman, let him, I say, feel such a state of utter destitution and want, and he will know how to excuse many a helpless, and otherwise lost, woman, who seeks comfort and consolation in the arms of a second hus-" And waste its sweetness on the desert air.” band. Youth and beauty will do no sucli thing, he may depend on it. Many widows, who are left with a business to take care of, soon begin to find the want of a husband to bear up against the wrongs and insults of the world; and such are frequently more than half ready, from this sort of necessity, to meet the proposals of a sometimes designing man. Such a case appears to have been in the mind of Mr. Mulready when he paint ed the picture in question: but be it remembered, that there is much excuse for such a woman. She feels, and knows, better than any other person, the injury which her business sus In the case I have just put, I have not added to the aggravation of the widow's circumstances by supposing her to have children; but I can very well imagine a case, where a widow left with a family (though the experiment is doubtless a very dangerous one, for it is seldom that step-fathers or step-mothers feel as they ought towards the helpless offspring of another person)-but, I repeat, that I can imagine the case of a woman in such a situation, who, if a wealthy man made her an offer, would accept it, from the mere hope that it might advance the interests of her children; and this is some sort of sanc-tains for the want of a more compe tification for the circumstance of her tent manager than herself; and as tó marrying again: for such a woman the design the man may have upon would be apt, at the moment, not to the snug shop and parlour, and the think of the probability that there substantial comforts that frequently might be a second family of chil- are to be found in such situations, it dren; and, alas! we have sometimes ought to be recollected, that she can even seen women themselves forget- no more look into the inmost recess- ›› ful of the title of the first, when sur-es of his heart, than the wisest man rounded by new claimants upon their of us all. affections. Thank God, however, such instances are rare. But the most astounding thing of all to some of the wonderers at wi Other women again (leaving world-dows for marrying again is, that of a ly considerations out of the question) woman doing so, who has been emis are left widows, without any incum-nently happy with, and decidedly and brance, at a very early age, and with all the feelings of early life about them: would these cavillers expect that human nature should altogether change to forward their favourite theory? If they expect any such thing, they will, and they ought to be, disappointed. As well might truly fond of, the husband she has for many years, will be more likely || vance of undoing at night that part to pause when they lose him, and, of her web which she had woven in as the song says, the day: so that it should seem the young fellows among the ancients were as worrying and as persevering as they are in the year of our Lord 1824. Another instance is given us by Shakspeare in his King Richard III. where Lady Anne is made to yield (too soon as I have always thought) to the usurping murderer. I certainly cannot bring her forward as an instance fit to form an excuse for those who " go and do likewise;" but merely as an example, to shew what perseverance may sometimes accomplish with the fair sex: though indeed, on the mimic scene, some of the croaking representatives of Richard who have recently had sion of the stage, would, I should' imagine, have frightened most wo men away at the very first volley of voice. But be that as it may, worldly views and perseverance on the part of the men have done much to bring this unmerited disgrace on many widows. I have but one other word to Take care how they marry again." We have certainly a thousand instances of men who have been very happy with their first wives, marrying again: why then should not the same feeling operate with women? That it frequently does so operate I have not the smallest doubt. Some women indeed (and I respect their feelings too) have, upon the loss of a beloved husband, spent the remainder of their days in singleness of body and soul; have felt a luxury in continually calling to mind the man they so loved, and have so lost; and this has sometimes happened to very young women: but if other young women who have been thus happy in wedded life should marry again, I, for one, deem them excused, and heartily despise that man who would endeavour to hold them up to the finger of malicious scorn. posses mark that the sexes are made for each other; and therefore, after all, the blame must fall, in a great degree, upon poor human nature, that compound of virtue and vice, firmness and frailty. An elderly and respectable widow, and an elderly and respectable man, both without children, and both hay-say in extenuation, and that is, to reing a small income, almost too small to render them individually comfortable, have often been " joined together in holy matrimony," much to the advantage of both parties; and I presume, that even the snarlers will coincide with me in thinking that such a union ought not to be laughed at, considering the increase of comfort which it is likely to produce. I will add a few more "last words" just to observe, that the widowers marry again as often as they like with complete impunity, though frequently they have even less excuse than the widows, for they do not want In conclusion let me observe, that very many widows have been wearied out with the protracted and un-protectors: if very old indeed they ceasing solicitations of their suitors; may want nurses; and, alas! youth even the supposed widow Penelope, and beauty are sometimes known sof that pattern of women, was very near to throw themselves yielding to them, but for the contribundevil est bgl to throw themselves away. I have merely subjoined this remark about widowers, in the hope that Mr. Mul- || dower," as he has this year given us ready will next year balance the ac- "The Widow." count fairly, by giving us "The Wi J. M. LACEY. THE CONFESSIONS OF A RAMBLER. I FLATTER myself that the interesting nature of Mrs. Ridley's adventures will be a sufficient apology for the length to which they extend: my readers I am sure must feel infinitely more gratified by the perusal of them, than by the narration of any of which I was the hero. I left that lady just landed in America; and she felt less fatigue after her voyage than might have been expected. But a long and dreary route Jay before her. She ascertained that Major Ridley was at a depôt of prisoners upwards of two hundred miles in the interior; and the country was all in possession of the Americans, whilst the road, in some places, lay through almost impervious forests. But she who had braved the dangers of the ocean was not to be daunted or dismayed by the perils of the land. Two strong horses were bought for the journey, for Mrs. Ridley was an excellent horsewoman; and she succeeded in obtaining a passport from the American commander, who, to his honour be it recorded, evinced every wish to facilitate the accomplishment of her glorious pur pose. Properly equipped for her enterprise, and taking with her such necessaries as she thought would be most beneficial to Major Ridley, accompanied by the faithful Hammond, this excellent wife again set forth. For the first day they journeyed through a cultivated country, which had not suffered from the devastations of war: yet here its terrors had spread by report; and the peaceable inhabitants were every day anticipating a visit from the hostile forces; whilst some were lamenting the absence of their heads, who had left their homes to join the army of, the republicans. At night they sought for and obtained a lodging in a little farm-house, situated on the main road, at the entrance of a wood which they would have to cross. The inmates (a man and his wife, both far advanced in years,) were quiet, harmless people. They knew little of the world or its cares, and would have had as much pleasure in hearing that King George had succeeded in bringing back his revolted colonies to their allegiance, as in hailing the victorious progress of General Washington. They received the wanderers with kindness, spread before them the simple fare which their home afforded, and resigned their own bed to the lady with unaffected good will. When the travellers pursued their journey in the morning, the aged couple blessed them as they departed; and Mrs. Ridley thought of her parents and wept. For several days they met with no occurrence worth recording. But on the sixth morning, when they had journeyed over considerably more than two-thirds of the distance, hostile sounds burst on their ears, and they began to be alarmed, lest they were getting into the vicinity of the contending armies. As they advanced, 34 19vin 1892 zult end ed es "Towoh the noise and tumult of battle raged fiercer, mixed with sounds of the most appalling description: they were the war-cries of the Indians, and struck terror to the hearts of Mrs. Ridley and her attendant. p-fold q'i todt egen edt at „erowobiw turned adrift, Mrs. Ridley was pla ced in a litter, hastily and rudely constructed of some branches of trees, which, on a signal from the chief, four men hoisted on their shoulders, whilst Hammond was compelled to follow on foot, bearing the valise, which contained the property of his From any of the regular soldiers biThe road which they were now Mrs. Ridley's reflections were of the most agonizing description. In the morning she anticipated a speedy termination to her toilsome journey, and expected to receive in the smiles of her husband an ample repayment for all her cares and all her trouble. Now she was fallen into the hands of rude and cruel men: she knew not what insults she might receive, what injuries she might experience; and she was totally ignorant as to whither they were taking her. Several times she essayed to address the men by whom she was carried; but they elther did not, or pretended they did not, understand her; and she had no resource but in patience. The di rection they were taking appeared, as far as she could judge, to be ly the same with that of the road they had left; and she silently prayed to Providence for aid and assistance, for in heaven alone she now placed her trust. They journeyed thus till noon, during which time they had not once emerged from the forest. The route they were taking did not appear to have been often trod by human feet, The underwood obstructed their path, and the thickly entwined branches frequently hung so low, that they were obliged to stoop considerably to clear them. The Indi ans, however, pursued their cours with as much ease, and a apparently 201 with as much certainty, as if they || upon them with looks which bespoke the fixed resolve of putting them immediately to death, should they offer to escape. They were served with refreshments, of which they over, the Indians laid themselves down around the fire to take some repose, leaving guards at the two outlets before alluded to, as well as two armed warriors to watch the captives. They had not slept long, before a hideous cry was given by one of the scouts: in a moment all were on their feet and had seized their arms. Before Mrs. Ridley and Hammond could ascertain what caused the alarm, the chief stood before them with an upraised battle-axe, ready to smite them to the earth. That instant the report of a musket was heard; the next the Indian rolled a lifeless corpse; and a general discharge of musketry, mixed with the appalling cries of the savages and the groans of the wounded and the dying, altogether created a scene of terror and alarm which was too much for Mrs. Ridley, who fainted in the arms of Hammond. This faithful follower found that the party who had captured them were attack were on a beaten road; and towards night they arrived at a kind of prairie, a sweetly sylvan spot, where the trees had been cleared to a considerable extent; and the plain was co-partook only sparingly; and the meal vered with flowers of fantastic hues, and plants of various and opposite qualities. Here the party made a halt, and Mrs. Ridley was taken from her litter; whilst Hammond, who had had great difficulty in keeping up with the party for the last few miles, dropped down with fatigue. Mrs. Ridley flew to her attached follower, and some of the restoratives which the valise contained, and which were intended for Mr. Ridley, were administered to him. He soon revived, and they watched with painful suspense the movements of the Indians. They seemed to intend spending the night in this place. Scouts were placed at the only two avenues it appeared to present; a fire was kindled by rubbing two sticks together; and they proceeded to dress some deer's flesh which they had with them. From the conversation occasionally carried on, Mrs. Ridley learnt with horror, that they were in the hands of a hostile party. The tribe to which these Indians belong-ed by another tribe of Indians, who ed was attached to the American had probably followed them unobcause; they had been defeated that served: the confusion afforded him morning by a detachment of English an opportunity of escape, which he soldiers, and vowed to take a deep availed himself of, and he bore Mrs. revenge the first opportunity that Ridley to the nearest outlet from this offered. What they meant to do scene of death. He had no difficulty with their prisoners, the latter could in gaining the wood, but when he not ascertain; but they conjectured had once entered it, he found himthat death, or a worse fate, awaited self quite bewildered in its mazes. them. No hope of escape presented Encumbered with his burden, he itself; the savages were ever on the found it impossible to make his way alert and watchful; and the slightest through the thickly matted trees, motion produced a kind of alarm and he sat down on the ground, reamongst the barbarians, who turned signing himself almost to despair, |