escapes, in her enthusiasm she had almost fancied she saw the arm of the Almighty stretched out to save her. What but his Divine interposition could have preserved her, when a few months before she had been thrown from a carriage, and her babe killed? Why was she saved? She had held her child in her arms until the violence of the shock, as she struck the ground, caused her arms to relax, and the little creature to rebound and receive its death; and why was she spared? She felt that her work was not yet finished; she had high and holy duties to perform, which in due time would be revealed to her; the Almighty had made her life his peculiar care, and now she awaited the manifestations of his pleasure towards her. She feared not for her own life: neither did she fear abuse-she was under the protection of the King of kings, and who should dare insult her? When this strong excitement had in a measure subsided, she began to reflect upon what course she was to adopt in case the British came. There was but one course for her to pursue, that was, calmly and quietly to await their coming, then, as soon as possible seek an interview with the commander, frankly state her situation, and claim his protection. This course held out a prospect of obtaining medical aid for her husband; "who knows," said she, clasping her hands in the enthusiasm of the moment, "who knows but this very calamity may be the means which God has appointed for his restoration to health?" Again the firmness of her mind was shaken as she reflected upon what would probably be her situation should the commanding officer be a man without principle, regarding neither the laws of God or society; what then would become of her? "Away with these dreadful thoughts," said she, "they are as unprofitable as they are unjust and ridiculous-my cause is a holy one, and I shall be sustained. That man does not exist who is base enough to injure a helpless woman, who has cast herself upon his protection-it is folly to suffer

myself to be agitated in this way.-Anna, Louisa, come hither; take your little chairs and sit by mamma:" and she exerted herself to get up and maintain a conversation on cheerful subjects, anxious to withdraw the minds of her children from the fearful picture which had been presented in such glowing colours half an hour before. Never did her children seem half so dear or look half so lovely as they had done that day-they had behaved like little angels. Polly stood at the window with Charlie, pointing out the bonny horses, as he called them, of good Mr. G. The little fellow was in high spirits, having forgotten the Indians, the knife, and all that alarmed him a few minutes before.

Of a sudden, the noise of the cannon ceased, and for a few moments the stillness of death succeeded the long continued roar; when a shout which seemed to rend the air, startled and appalled Mrs. Stanley. She flew to the window. Toward the summit of the long hill as far as the eye could extend, were seen wagons, gigs, horsemen, and foot-passengers, their faces again turned toward "Zoar," the city of refuge. They had halted in their course, and the shouts of " victory," "victory to the American fleet," rose loudly upon the

ear.

Dr. Stanley had for some minutes lain so still, so motionless, that his ever watchful wife doubted whether he was conscious of what was going on, when to her surprise, as the shouts of victory came louder and more near, he opened his eyes, and slowly raising his feeble hand for the first time, distinctly articulated, "for this, O God, I thank thee!" and exhausted by the effort, again sank into the inanimate state from which he had been for the moment aroused. Anna and Louisa, aware that some important event had taken place, not knowing which party had gained the victory, flew to the side of their agitated mother. "Oh mamma, what is it?" "Oh, is it Indians?" said Charlie, the bright tear glistening in his little eye. "Oh tell us, mamma," said Louisa. "My children,”

said Mrs. Stanley, "we are saved; the Americans have conquered; give praise and honour and glory where it is due; let your young voices be raised in gratitude to God, who has fought our battles, the Omnipotent Jehovah!" It is impossible to describe her emotions at that moment. Her feelings were wrought up to the highest pitch of enthusiasm; her heart was full to overflowing. The lion of England is now prostrate before the eagle of America, which still spreads its protecting wings over this land of freemen. The star-spangled banner still waves in proud defiance on the ramparts of the fort, and the fleet of our own glorious M'Donough now rides victorious on the waves of Champlain. These were her reflections as she again clasped her children to her bosom, and exclaimed, "Bless the Lord, oh my children; for all his mercies bless his holy name!" Carriages came rolling back; horses prancing as if they themselves partook of the general joy. The crowd seemed almost frantic. Many on the summit of that hill had seen the pride of England bow to M'Donough's standard. Poor Mrs. Stanley's excitement and fatigue had been so great, that she was completely overcome; she trembled in every limb. When the loud voice of the express again claimed her attention, all was confirmed, and she clasped her little ones by turns to her bosom in ecstacy.

Dr. Stanley slowly recovered, and the latter end of October saw her little group assembled around their own fireside, and a happy circle they formed, although the desolating footsteps of an invading army had stalked around their dwelling; although the house and garden, fruit trees, shrubs, and enclosures, all presented one scene of ruin, yet still they were a happy group. The shelter, the bare shelter of their much loved home remained. The husband and father was restored. The sufferings they had endured had

endeared them the more to each other, and although inconvenienced by their losses, their hearts were too full of gratitude for present blessings, to permit them to repine at the calamities which they could not prevent.

RUTH.

THE Voice of wailing sadly rose
Upon the midnight air,

The palace walls, all hung with black,
Told there was sorrow there.

For in that princely mansion lay
The cold remains of one
Early cut off, in manhood's prime,
The husband and the son

Friends, in the chamber of the dead,
Stand silent, in dismay,

While hired mourners pour their wail
O'er the unconscious clay.

Behold the melancholy group
Assembled at his side;

His aged mother Naomi,

And Ruth, his princely bride.

Young Chilion's widow weeping stands Beside the fainting Ruth,

Essaying every tender art

Her anguish'd heart to soothe.

She, like some tender drooping flow'r

Torn by the blast away,

Upon her mother's faithful breast

Poor Ruth in anguish lay.