and of the fair sex by his beauty, in which respect he was a master-piece of nature.

ILL-FATED LOVE.

A GENTLEMAN, the youngest son of a beneficed clergyman of high respectability, lately paid his addresses to a young lady, of genteel family and considerable fortune, residing in the same neighborhood. Her uncle (under whose guardianship she was unhappily placed) had determined to marry her to what he called up to rank, and chose rather to see her splendidly miserable, than made happy with a genteel competency. The lady's suitor was a physician, who, some time back, took the usual degree, with the most promising hopes of success in his profession -his education polite and classical, added to an amiable disposition, and the most accomplished manners, could not fail of making an impression on the young lady; his conduct towards her testified his high regard, and in a short time he was beloved with equal ardor; insurmountable were the obstacles raised by the uncle, in order to prevent their union-he remonstrated on the impropriety of placing her affections on a person not possessed of one shilling, and who could have no expectations, either now or hereafter, or any paternal fortune; as to the profession, it was one of the very worst, for he might not be called upon a Guinea voyage (as he termed it) for years to come-and in hopes of alienating her regard for her lover, introduced into the family a major in the army, and at the same time informed her she was to consider him as her future husband. It seems he did not possess any of those nice feelings of honor and sensibility, which should ever be the characteristic of a soldier. He was told of her predilection for another, which must ever prevent his prevailing upon a heart so completely devoted to Mr. M, who was then in Scotland, and his arrival daily expected. This candid appeal had no effect; as he had the uncle's consent, he considered there was no other obstacle remaining. In vain did this amiable young lady, bathed in tears, en

deavor to dissuade her uncle from his cruel purpose. In fine, the wedding day was appointed, the clergyman arrived, and with silent, suffering composure, she allowed the fatal ceremony to be performed. The uncle, however, was soon convinced of his inhumanity-she had taken, in the presence of her own maid, a cup of tea mixed, as it appeared afterwards, with a considerable quantity of arsenic. She said it was the most delicious draught she had ever taken. Towards the close of the evening she was much indisposed, and in a few hours after breathed her last. On her dressing-table was found the following letter: "'Tis over, and by the time you receive this, I shall be no more; yet the only hour that I can call my own, I give to you; the only one that the hand of death has not a right to interrupt. Should I live, I tremble to think what a husband's rage might have inflicted, when he should find · (instead of the happiness he expected) a cold and indifferent heart. Surely it was impossible for two masters to share my affection-had I survived, you would feel that you had robbed me of, what not all my fortune could purchase, or the world have power to bestow. Ever since I was taught to form a wish, it was that of being a tender wife and happy mother. From the time I could associate an idea, I looked upon matrimony as the source from which we were to derive finished happiness or accumulated misery. Under this idea, alas! what delusive visions of felicity did not the accomplished mind and literary taste of Mr. once give me leave to form, such as no turn of fortune can again recall. But what am I saying, and to whom; to him who has robbed me of my peace and of my life. Can he now dry up those tears which he himself has caused to flow; or can he heal those wounds which he has so deeply inflicted? But the worst is past, all the passions that have distracted me since I received your unfeeling mandate, to forget and be faithless to him on whom my heart doated, are hushed, and what little spirit remains, will soon give way to the Supreme Director of all !"

She was in her 20th year! To the beauty of her form, and the excellence of her natural disposition, a parent equally indulgent and attentive, who died a few years be

fore, had done the fullest justice. To accomplish her manners, and cultivate her mind, every endeavor had been used, and they had been attended with success. Few young ladies attracted more admiration; none ever felt it less. She died when every tongue was eloquent in praise of her virtue, when every hope was ripening to reward them.

MELANCHOLY FATE OF TEN SEAMEN.

THE following account of the miserable fate of ten men, who were surprised by the savages in New Zealand, and put to death and eaten, is extracted from the journal of one of the crew, that was ordered to make search for the unhappy sufferers. The ship Adventurer, to which they belonged, returned from the South Seas in 1774.

On the 30th of November, 1773, we came to an anchor in Charlotte Sound, on the coast of New Zealand, where the ship being moored, and the boat sent ashore, a letter was found, which informed us that the Resolution had been there, and had sailed six days before we arrived.

On the first of December we sent the tents and empty casks on shore, to the watering-place. The Indians came and visited us, and brought us fish and other refreshments, which we purchased with pieces of cloth and old nails; and they continued this traffic for ten or twelve days, seemingly very well pleased.

On the 13th, some of them came down in the night, and robbed the tents; the astronomer, getting up to make an observation, missed some things, and charged the sentinel with taking them; but, while they were in discourse, they spied an Indian creeping from the shore towards them; they fired at him and wounded him, but he got off and retired to the woods. The report of the gun had alarmed his companions, who deserted the canoe in which they came, and fled likewise into the woods.

The waterers, who were now apprised of what had happened, and were out upon the search, found the canoe, and in it most of the things that had been stolen.

Nothing remarkable happened after this till the 17th, when preparing for our departure, the large cutter, manned with the proper crew, under the command of Mr. John Roe, the first mate, accompanied by Mr. Woodhouse, midshipman, and James Tobias Swilley, the carpenter's servant, was sent up the sound to Grass-cove, to gather greens and wild celery.

At two in the afternoon the tents were struck, every thing got on board, and the ship made ready for sailing the next day. Night coming on, and no cutter appearing, the captain and officers began to express great uneasiness, fearing some treachery from the savages. They sat up the whole night in expectation of her arrival, but to no purpose. At day-break, the captain ordered the long-boat to be hoisted out, and double manned, with Mr. Burney, second lieutenant, Mr. Freeman, master, the corporal of the marines, with five private men, all well armed, with plenty of ammunition, two wall-pieces, and three days' provision. Thus equipped, about nine in the morning we left the ship, and sailed and rowed for East bay, keeping close in shore, and examining every creek we passed, to find the cutter: we continued our search till two in the afternoon, when we put into a small cove to dress dinner. While that was getting ready, we observed a company of Indians, seemingly very busy, on the opposite shore; we left our dinner, and rowed precipitately to the place where the savages were assembled. On our approach they all fled; we fol lowed them closely to a little town which we found deserted; we searched their huts, and, while thus employed, the savages returned, and made a show of resistance: but, some trifling presents being made their chiefs, they were very soon appeased. However, on our return to our boat, they followed us, and some of them threw stones. After we had dined, we renewed our search, and at proper intervals kept firing our wall-pieces, as signals to the cutter, if any of her people should happen to be within hearing.

About five in the afternoon we entered a small bay, where we saw a large double canoe, and a body of Indians hauling her upon the beach. We quickened our course to come up with them, but they instantly fled on seeing us approach: this made us suspect that some mischief

had been done. On landing, the first thing we saw in the canoe was one of the cutter's rowlock-boards and a pair of shoes tied up together. On advancing farther up the beach, we found several of their baskets, and saw one of their dogs eating a piece of broiled flesh: we examined it, and suspected it to be human; and in one of their baskets having found a hand, which we knew to be the left hand of Thomas Hill, by the letters T. H. being marked on it, we were no longer in doubt about the event. We pursued the savages as far as was practicable, but without success. On our return we destroyed their canoe, and continued our search. At half past six in the evening we entered Grass-cove, where we saw a great many Indians assembled on the beach, and six or seven canoes floating in the surf. We stood in shore, and when the savages saw us, they retreated to a rising hill, close by the water side. We were in doubt, whether it was through fear that they retreated, or with a design to decoy us to an ambuscade. Our lieutenant determined not to be sur prised, and therefore, running close in shore, ordered the grappling to be dropped near enough to reach them with our guns, but at too great a distance to be under apprehensions from their treachery. In this position we began to engage, taking aim, and determining to kill as many of them as our guns could reach. It was some time before we dislodged them; but at length, many of them being wounded, and some killed, they began to disperse. Our lieutenant improved their panic, and, supported by the officers and marines, leaped on shore, and pursued the fugitives. We had not advanced far from the water side, before we beheld the most horrible sight that ever was seen by any European; the heads, hearts, livers, and lights of three or four of our people broiling on the fire, and their bowels lying at the distance of about six yards from the fire, with several of their hands and limbs in a mangled condition, some broiled, and some raw; but no other parts of their bodies, which gave cause to suspect that the cannibals had feasted and eaten all the rest. We observed a large body of them assembled on the top of a hill, at about two miles distance; but, night coming on, we durst not advance to attack them: neither was it thought safe to