'You are wounded!' cried the terrified Edward.

She gave no answer, but smiled and fainted in his arms.

The enemy was now advancing in a manner that showed resistance would be unavailing. The redoubt had been taken, and the lines everywhere broken. Edward cast an impatient glance at his flying countrymen, but Isabella at this moment opened her eyes, and every other passion of his soul gave way to a brother's tenderness. He ordered a hasty retreat; and, bearing Isabella in his arms through the raking fire of the enemy across Charlestown neck, placed her in a carriage, and thus conveyed her to her native valley-to die.

Her sun went calmly down. She gloried in the exchange of worlds, not so much from a mere loathing of life, as from the triumphant assurances of the gospel. The seeds of life eternal had been sown early in her mind. It had sprung up, a vigorous and healthful plant; and though the lightnings had scathed and rifled it, its roots were still lively, and sent forth buds and boughs. All within her was peace. The christian's hope, that breeze of paradise, which had fanned her childhood's hours, and which had recently been put to fearful rout, had resumed its wonted breathings, and was wafting her steadily on to the haven of rest.They assembled for her funeral. It was more solemn than her father's, but I cannot describe it. The deep waters of their souls were troubled, and there was weeping and woe, but no violence-no confusion. Her angel spirit seemed to hover there, with a spell on every heart, bidding them be still, for she was at rest. But think not if thus silent their sorrow, it left not its impression. Deep was the oath by which her heroic band, kneeling round her grave, bound their souls to the service of their country, till death or victory should close the conflict. The band in which she had fought took a new ardor to revenge the wrongs of Isabella Downer. With Gates they were at Saratoga; with Green, at Eutaw Springs; with Washington, at Trenton and Yorktown. At length fifty war-worn veterans returned to Willow Valley. The bones of the remaining fifty were strewn from Massachusetts Bay to Georgia. Downer too returned, but not to remain. He saw the ashes of his home, and the voice of other days came back upon him and unmanned him. He retired far south, and there, once more, laid the foundations of his house. His vine has flourished, and numerous goodly branches have sprung from the parent stock. His eldest son, who inherits the paternal estate, was a colonel in the service during the last war, and more recently a member of the national council. In his house is a singular room, which is opened but once a year. At one end of it hangs the picture of his grandfather. At the other are the pictures of his father and of Isabella in her military dress; and between them is spread the banner under which they fought. Here, on the anniver

sary of the nineteenth of April, a solemn feast is held. All branches of the family are called home, the history of that banner is repeated, and all feel as they turn from the sacred relics to separate, each to his home, the bonds of consanguinity strengthened, and their love of liberty increased from the knowledge of the price it cost. 'Had every family in the land such an heir-loom as this,' says the colonel, 'Britons at least could never conquer us.'

We beg that our motive in recording this narrative may not be misapprehended. Let us not be accused of exaggerating the sufferings of our revolutionary fathers, or of wishing to strengthen national antipathies. Honi soit qui mal y pense. The angry passions of that struggle have subsided, and far be it from us to rake among the smouldering embers of the last century for the purpose of kindling again a flame which, for the good of both nations, every enlightened Englishman and every true American wishes extinguished forever. But if, by portraying the outrages to which our ancestors were exposed, in winning for themselves and us, their children, a rich inheritance of liberty and peace, our humble tale can beget in us a proper veneration for their memories, and a just appreciation of their glorious bequests, then will the wishes of its author be fully realized.

NAPOLEON.

He came, as comes the sun at dawn,

Upon a slumbering world;
Corruption at his nod was gone,

The tyrant's banner furl'd;
Thrones trembled at his giant tread,

Crowns fell around his feet,

And shook the ashes of the dead

His eagle glance to meet.

He came, a child whom men might scorn,

A vision faint to feel,

But Europe saw her proudest born

Before his presence kneel;

And kings and conquerors faded far
In shadow from his name,

As fades the faintest silver star

Behind the sunrise flame.

When we find so much ingratitude and selfishness among mankind, and after conferring considerable favors, instead of securing a friend, find "the ingrate and cankered Bolingbroke,"-when we so often see an apparent act of liberality originate from a selfish motive, it gives us pleasure to meet with an instance of disinterested generosity and pure gratitude in return; it makes us better satisfied with mankind and our situation among them.

The following was copied from the journal of an American shipmaster in his own words; he was an eye witness of what he relates, and recorded it merely as a source of amusement for himself.

As I was standing, says the writer, in the street gate of the French coffee house in Lima, with several American captains, one of whom was named B***ks, our attention was attracted by a general officer in full uniform, of a fine commanding appearance, coming out of the coffee house, attended by his secretary. When near us he started, stopped an instant, then ran and caught B. in his arms, cried "My dear B! my dear friend! how happy I am to see you!" B. was astonished and told him he did not recollect him. What! he says, not recollect Hualero! The exclamations of joy and congratulation were now mutual, and they went into the coffee house together. Hualero immediately inquired of B. if he could serve him; he offered his purse-his house, or his interest. B. replied that he was master of a vessel, which, with the cargo, had been seized by gov

ernment on account of some Spanish property on board'; that the trial would come on soon, and that the result was doubtful; in every other respect his circumstances were such as to need no assistance. Hualero told him to give himself no uneasiness, that he would attend to the business, that his obligations to him were such that he could never expect to cancel them, but it would give him the greatest pleasure to render him any service in his power. After some further conversation, he took leave, inviting B. to dine with him the next day, and bring any of his friends whom he chose.

On the following day, B. with two of his acquaintances left Lima for Bella Vista, a small village where the Colombian and Peruvian forces were encamped, under the command of Hualero. They had chosen this place as it was within gunshot of Callao castles, and convenient for erecting batteries behind the houses, without being annoyed by the Spaniards, (who still held the castles under the command of Rodil, the only spot on the continent of South America in their possession.) When the breast-work was completed and mounted with long brass 24 pounders, the buildings were torn down, and a heavy cannonade opened on the astonished garrison, who however in return sent an immense quantity of bombs and shot into the batteries and village, but without much effect. After cannonading for several days, the fire gradually ceased on both sides, and was only continued at intervals.

In one of the batteries they found the General, who received them with much kindness and attention, and, after showing them all that could interest them for their amusement, ordered several shots to be thrown among a party of foragers outside the walls of the castle. The shots were promptly returned by the garrison, and were thrown with great precision. Hualero was personally known to Rodil and his officers; and being very conspicuous from his dress, all the shot appeared to be directed at him, not one of which passed more than twenty feet from him and his party. Several soldiers were wounded and one killed by the explosion of a bomb. After this military diversion, they repaired to the General's quarters, and dined with him and several of his officers. After dinner, the General related to the company, his obligations to Captain B., and gave the following toast: "Captain B., the saviour of my life." He then told him that his secretary had interceded with the government respecting his vessel, and that he might expect a favorable decision. When the party took leave, the General accompanied them nearly to Lima. The kindness and attention of Hualero to B. was unremitted. He offered to furnish him any house in Lima he chose to select, and was continually urging favors upon him. B.'s property was soon after liberated, though it was well known to be liable to condemnation. That a general officer in the Colombian

army should have so much influence with the government, will not surprise any one who is acquainted with the state of affairs in Peru at that time.

The cause of Hualero's obligations to B. was as follows.-Several months after the Spanish army, under Morillo, had overrun the greatest part of Colombia, and almost annihilated the Patriot forces, B. was in the Havana, master of a vessel belonging to Philadelphia. He had finished his business, and was on the point of sailing for home, when he was accosted in the street by a man in an ordinary dress, with a shabby straw hat, requesting to know if he could have a passage to the United States, with a separate cabin for his family. B. would not have hesitated a moment to refuse, had not his address been much superior to his appearance. Observing B.'s hesitation, he produced a purse of doubloons, and offered to pay his passage in advance, intimating that his appearance was rather from choice than necessity. B. having no other passengers, finally concluded to take him. The same afternoon he came on board with his family, and they soon after weighed anchor. It was near sunset when they came abreast the Moro Castle, and were boarded by the guard boat with an officer and six or seven soldiers, who ordered the passengers and crew to be mustered on deck. After examining the roll of equipage, and asking the usual questions, he turned to the captain and asked him if he was aware that he had a prisoner of war on board as a passenger. Before he could reply, he turned to the agitated Hualero, who had expected that his disguise would protect him, and ordered him to go with him immediately on shore. B., who spoke the Spanish fluently, requested the officer to walk below, and showed the passenger's passport, which was intended for another person, whose name it now appeared he had assumed. The officer appeared satisfied, but told him Hualero must go on shore without delay. B. went on deck to give the necessary orders, while the officer remained below seated at the table with a bottle of wine, which he did not think necessary to leave till all was ready. He found the unfortunate Hualero standing near the taffrail, his wife and children clinging to him, almost distracted with grief; but he stood perfectly erect, apparently unconscious of their presence. The ferocious expression of his eyes, and stern, determined look, showed that he was meditating on some desperate action. His reflections were interrupted by B., who told him he was sorry for his misfortunes, that he regretted he had not informed him at first of his situation. He repeated the orders of the officer, and told him no time could be lost. Hualero begged one moment's delay; then stated as briefly as possible, that he was a native of Colombia, had been a general officer in the Colombian army, that he had been taken prisoner, with many others, and sent to the Havana, his family being allowed to accompany him