Then he ordered the lictors to tear off the wretch's clothes, to tie his hands behind him, and to furnish the boys with rods and scourges, to punish the traitor, and whip him into the city. The Falerians, by this time, had discovered the schoolmaster's treason; the city was full of lamentations for so great a loss; and the principal inhabitants, both men and women, crowded about the walls and the gates like persons distracted. In the midst of this disorder they espied the boys whipping on their master, naked and bound; and calling Camillus "their god, their deliverer, their father." Not only the parents of those children, but all the citizens in general, were struck with admiration at the spectacle, and conceived such an affection for the justice of Camillus, that they immediately assembled in council and sent deputies to surrender to him both themselves and their city.

CHARACTER OF THE AFRICAN.

While we hear some so extravagantly fond of censuring the poor African for the want of sensibility and intellect, and brutishly classing him with the beast of the forest, as unreflecting and cruel, we are highly gratified with the opinion of the naturalist and the philosopher, not less celebrated for his liberality than his erudition. Mons. Buffon, after describing the person of this much injured people, says,

The Negros in general are a remarkably innocent and inoffensive people. If properly fed, and unexposed to bad usage, they are contented, joyous, and obliging; and on their very countenance may we read the satisfaction of their soul. If hardly dealt with, on the other hand, their spirits forsake them, and they droop with sorrow. Alike impressed with a sense of what injuries, and of what favors they have received, to a cruel master they are implacable foes; to an indulgent onę, servants who will exert every effort of which human nature is capable, in order to express to him their zeal, and their attachment. To their children, their friends, their countrymen, they are naturally compassionate and tender. Cheerfully, of the little they have, do they communicate a share to those in necessity and indigence; though, otherwise than from that necessity, that indigence, they have not, perhaps, the smallest knowledge of them. That they have an excellent heart, therefore, is evident; and, in having this, they have the seed of every virtue. Their sufferings demand a tear. Are they not already sufficiently unhappy in being reduced to a state of slavery; in being obliged always to work without ever reaping the smallest fruits of their labor? To crown their wretchedness, must they be abused, buffeted, treated like brutes?. Humanity revolts at the idea of a conduct which nothing but the thirst of gold could ever have introduced.

We do not hesitate in pronouncing the following instance of African hospitality as characteristic of that humiliated and unjustly despised nation. It is to be found in the travels of the late justly celebrated Mungo Park.

THE NEGRO'S HOSPITALITY.

Having passed a whole day (says this enterprising traveller) without victuals, in the shade of a tree, and the night threatened to be very uncomfortable; for the wind rose, and there was great appearance of a heavy rain: the wild beasts too were so numerous in the neighborhood, that I should have been under the necessity of climbing up the tree, and resting among the branches. About sun set, however, as I was preparing to pass the night in this manner, and had turned my horse loose, that he might graze at liberty, a negro woman, returning from the labors of the field, stopped to observe me: and perceiving that I was weary and dejected, inquired into my situation. I briefly explained it to her; after which, with looks of great compassion, she took up my saddle and bridle, and told me to follow her. Having conducted me into her hut, she lighted a lamp, spread a mat on the floor, and told me I might remain there for the night. Finding that I was very hungry, she went out to procure me something to eat ; and returned in a short time with a very fine fish; which, having caused it to be half broiled upon some embers, she gave me for supper. The rites of hospitality being thus performed towards a stranger in distress, my worthy benefactress (pointing to the mat, and telling me I might sleep there without apprehension) called to the female part of her family, who stood gazing on me all the while in fixed astonishment, to resume their task of spinning cotton; in which they continued to employ themselves great part of the night.

They lightened their labour by songs, one of which was composed extempore; for I was myself the subject of it. It was sung by one of the young women, the rest joined in a sort of chorus. The air was sweet and plaintive, and the words, literally translated, were these: "The winds roared, and the rains fell. The poor white man, faint and weary, came and sat under our tree. He has no mother to

bring him milk; no wife to grind him corn. Chorus. Let us pity the white man no mother has he to bring him milk; no wife to grind his corn." Trifling as these events may appear to the reader, they

These simple and pathetic sentiments have been beautifully versified and expanded, by the duchess of Devonshire. The following is a copy of this inte

were to me affecting in the highest degree. I was oppressed by such unexpected kindness; and sleep fled from my eyes. In the morning I presented to my compassionate landlady two of the four brass buttons which remained on my waistcoat: the only recompense it was in my power to make her.

ACHILLES'S SOLILOQUY.

Too much praise cannot be bestowed upon the following beautiful soliloquy of Achilles, on seeing the shade of his dearest friend Patroclus.

"Tis true, 'tis certain; man, though dead, retains
Part of himself; th' immortal mind remains :
The form subsists without the body's aid,
Aërial semblance, and an empty shade!
This night my friend, so late in battle lost,
Stood at my side, a pensive, plaintive ghost;
E'en now familiar, as in life, he came,

Alas! how different! yet how like the same!

This master of the epic strain, in a few words, has given a clear view of the ideas of the ancients, respecting the disposal of the afterexistence of man, when the soul is stripped of her mortal robes. The

resting little piece of poetry, which reflects honor on that feminine sensibility from which it emanated.

The loud wind roar'd, the rain fell fast;
The white man yielded to the blast.

He sat him down beneath the tree,
For weary, sad, and faint was he :
And ah! no wife or mother's care,
For him the milk or corn prepare.

CHORUS.

The white man shall our pity share :
Alas! no wife, or mother's care,

For him the milk or corn prepare.

The storm is o'er, the tempest past,
And mercy's voice has hush'd the blast,

The wind is heard in whispers low :

The white man far away must go ;

But ever in his heart must bear
Remembrance of the negro's care.

CHORUS.

Go, white man, go; but with thee bear
The negro's wish, the negro's prayer,
Remembrance of the negro's care.

last line completely dissolves the sternness of Achilles into the tenderest remembrance of their former intimacy; and, in a truly pathetic manner, conveys to us the indescribable appearance of the fallen hero. "The form subsists;" from this expression, it would seem that the ridiculous idea of a soul without form never entered the enlightened mind of Homer.

ADDRESS TO SINGLE LADIES.

A multitude of admirers is an object too generally coveted by young females. Yet it is certainly a very improper method to be taken by such who wish to be happy in matrimony. Sensible and well-meaning, worthy and sincere men are seldom attracted within the circle of those who adopt this conduct; and even if they should chance to fall within such a circle, it is very seldom that they long retain the slight chains of such a love. It is remarkably improper, as well as absurd, for a lady, who has already a sensible lover, to languish for a number of flatterers to admire her. Should she miss of her aim,

she fancies herself unhappy; should she so in reality.

succeed, she is likely to be

A gentleman who values his own honor, or understands the dignity proper for the female whom he addresses and is desirous to possess, will, by no means, admit of this plurality of lovers, no sooner than the laws would admit of a plurality of husbands. A neatness, without excess, in point of dress; a prudent restraint of the tongue; a moderation in taking diversions; and an unaffected ease and politeness, joined to the usual accomplishments, must complete the character of an accomplished lady, in a single state; and will, in the end, outweigh the transitory, though delightful charms of a beautiful person.

A LESSON FOR THE LADIES.

The following anecdote of the late Rev. Samuel Ayscouth, assistant librarian at the British Museum, is recommended to the perusal of our fair readers:

One day, according to the rules of his office, as assistant librarian in the British Museum, he attended through that grand magazine of curiosities, a party of ladies and gentlemen, all of whom, except one lady, were disposed to be highly pleased with what they saw and really would have been so, if this capricious fair one had not dampened their gratification with such exclamations as these: "Oh! trumpery! come along: I see nothing worth looking at." This lady

being the handsomest of the group, Mr. A. (who although an old bachelor, was a great admirer of beauty) at first fixed upon her as his temporary favorite; but soon had reason to transfer his particular attention to another less handsome, but more amiable. On her continuing a similar strain of exclamations, attended with correspondent looks and demeanor, he turned towards her and said, "My sweet young lady, what pains you kindly take to prevent that fine face of yours from killing half the beaux in London!" And then directed his conversation explanatory of the different objects before them, to the rest of the party.

So much influence, however, had she over her companions-that, beaten as the round was to the worthy and instructive librarian, she caused him to finish it considerably sooner than was either pleasing to his mind, or convenient to the state and ponderosity of his body. While in the last room, just before he made his parting bow, addressing himself to her with that suavity of manner which was so peculiar to him, he smilingly said-" Why, what a cross little puss you are! Nothing pleases you. Here are ten thousand curious and valuable things brought at a vast expense from all parts of the world, and you turn up your nose at the whole of them. Do you think with these airs, that that pretty face will ever get you a husband! Not if he knows you half an hour first. Almost every day of my life, and especially through these rooms, I regret being an old bachelor: for I see so many charming, good tempered women, that I reproach myself for not trying to persuade one of them to bless me with her company. But I can't fall in love with you, and I'll honestly tell you I shall pity the man that does; for I'm sure you'll plague him out of his life."

when attending ladies

During this singular valedictory speech, (delivered with such pleasantry that even the reproved could not take offence at it) the gentleman who was of the party looked now at the speaker, and then at the lady, with considerable emotion, but said nothing: while she called up no small portion of lightning into a fine pair of dark eyes, and some transient flashes of it into her cheeks, and then with her friends, (who affably wished their candid Cicerone a good morning) withdrew.

Somewhat more than a year afterwards, on going the same round again, our honest friend was particularly pleased with one lady of the party; and that one being the prettiest, he contrived, according to his wonted custom, to pay her the most particular attention. Respectfully