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them, and fire at them; but the idea disgusting me, I recalled the order. The hussar, in returning, made a circuit, but the other passed within a hundred yards of us, upon which I advanced from the wood towards him. Upon my calling, he stopped; but after looking at me, proceeded. I again drew his attention, and made signs to him to stop, levelling my piece at him, but he slowly cantered away. As I was within that distance at which, in the quickest firing, I could have lodged half a dozen balls in or about him, before he was out of my reach, I had only to determine ; but it was not pleasant to fire at the back of an unoffending individual, who was acquitting himself very coolly of his duty; so I let him alone. The day after, I had been telling this story to some wounded officers who lay in the same room with me, when one of the surgeons, who had been dressing the wounded rebel officers, came in and told us that they had been informing him that General Washington was all the morning with the light troops and only attended by a French officer in a hussar dress, he himself dressed and mounted in every point as above described. I am not sorry that I did not know at the time who it was."

FOR THE MONITOR.

Reflections of a Missionary on his arrival at Jerusalem.*

How art thou desolate, Jerusalem !
Thy walls of strength and grandeur once how fallen!
Nought can exceed thy waste and desolation !
The sons of Judah weep in cruel bondage ;
And Salem's daughters, once of Israel
The glory and the boast, dejected now
Have hung their harps upon the willow tree.
On Hermon now the rich dews fall; as erst
They fell, when the sweet bard of Judah sung.
The flowers bloom as sweet in Hinnom's vale,
And Kedron's stream flows as it ever flowed.

• The writer had in his mind the Rev. P. Fisk, the fourth even. ing after his arrival in the Holy City, which was the date of his first letters from that place, to his friends in America.

O’or Zion's desolations I have walked ;
Have drank of Siloah's fount-in Kedron's wave
Have laved my burning brow—the lowly garden
Of Gethsemane bave entered-have stood
Upon Mount Calvary, and mourned and wept
Fast by the tomb of my once dead, but now
Ascended Lord. My tears flowed freely,
As I thought on Zion—thought what once she was,
And what is now. Here pious David sung,
And David's dying Lord redeemed the world.
Here once the Temple stood, where Judah's sons
Came up to worship. But nought now remains,
Not even a stone of all that mighty fabric.
In my tone room, on Calvary I sit,
My window opens towards Mount Olivet.
While here I sit, and agonize, and weep,
My thoughts revert to kindred, friends and home
In my far distant land. I pray for them,
For Israel's hapless race—for Zion-all.
And shall thy glory ne'er again return,
Oh! Zion, desolate, and waste !-Oh! yes,
Zion again shall be restored, her temple
Shall be rebuilt, and all her sons, returned
To their native land, in it sball worship.
E'en now bursts on my enraptured vision
The angel of the everlasting gospel
Flying ihrough the midst of heaven, and saying,
With a loud voice, as th' voice of mighty waters,
And, as the voice of heaven, sweet “ Zion,
Arise and shine ; thy light is come;
The glory of the Lord is rising on thee.”
* Behold Jehovah hath thus proclaimed to the end of

the earth ;"!
Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Lo! thy Saviour cometh ;
Lo!' his reward is with him, and the recompense of

his work before him." And ye shall be called, The holy people, The redeemed

of Jehovah;
And thou shalt be called, The much desired, the city

unforsaken.”
- Bishop Lowth's Translation. Isaiah lxii. 11, 12.

TO CORRESPONDENTS. P. S:-L, and S. have been received; but the issuing of the December Number, almost simultaneously with the January, leaves but little to say to correspondents.

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