some of Glenlyon's soldiers came to his father's house the said 13th of February in the morning, and dragged his father out of his bed, and knocked him down for dead at the door; which the deponent seeing, made his escape; and his father recovering after the soldiers were gone, got into another house; but this house was shortly burnt, and his father burnt in it: and the deponent came there after, and gathered his father's bones, and burnt them. He also declares, that an Auchnaion, where Auchintriaten was killed, he saw the body of Auchintriaten and three more cast out and covered with dung. And another witness of the same declares, that upon the 13th of February, Glenlyon and Lieutenant Lindsay, and their soldiers, did in the morning before day fall upon the people of Glenco when they were secure in their beds, and killed them; and he being at Innerriggen, fled with the first, but heard shots, and had two brothers killed there, as were three men more and a woman, who were all buried before he came back. And all these five witnesses concur, that the foresaid slaughter was made by Glenlyon and his soldiers, after they had been quartered and lived peaceably and friendly with the Glenco men about thirteen days, and that the number of those whom they knew to be slain were about twenty-five; and that the soldiers after the slaughter burnt the houses, barns, and goods, and carried away a great spoil of horse, colt, and sheep, above a thousand. And James Campbell, soldier in the castle of Stirling, depones, that in January 1692, he being then a soldier in Glenlyon's company, marched with the company from Inerlochie to Glenco, where the company was quartered, and were very kindly entertained for the space of fourteen days; that he knew nothing of the design of killing the Glenco men till the morning that the slaughter was committed; at which time Glenlyon and Captain Drummond's companies were drawn out in several parties, and got orders from Glenlyon and their other officers to shoot and kill all the countrymen they met with, and that the deponent being one of the party which was at the town were Glenlyon had his quarters, saw several men drawn out of their bed, and particularly saw Glenlyon's own landlord shot by his order, and a young boy of about twelve years of age, was shot dead by Captain Drummond's order. And lastly, Sir Colin Campbell, of Aberuchil, depones, that after the slaughter, Glenlyon told him that Macdonald of Innerriggen was killed with the rest of the Glenco men, with Colonel Hill's pass or protection in his pocket, which a soldier brought and shewed to Glenlyon.

CHILD SELLING.

"Malabar children," says Mr. Forbes, in his Oriental Memoirs, "are generally a cheap commodity at Anjengo; at the end of the rainy season, when there was no particular scarcity in the interior of the country, I purchased a boy and girl about eight or nine years of age, as a present to a lady at Bombay, for less money than a couple of pigs in England. I bought the young couple, laid in two months provision of rice and salt-fish for their voyage, and gave each of them four changes of cotton garments, all for the sum of twenty rupees, or fifty shillings. English humanity must not pass a censure on this transaction: it was a happy purchase for the children; they were relieved from hunger and nakedness, and sent to an amiable mistress, who brought them up tenderly; and, on leaving India, provided for their future comfort; whereas, had I refused to buy them, they would assuredly have been sold to another, and probably have experienced a miserable bon

dage with some native Portuguese Christian, whom we do not reckon among the most merciful task-masters.

"A circumstance of this kind happened to myself: sitting one morning in my veranda, a young fish-woman brought a basket of mullets for sale; while the servant was disposing of them, she asked me to purchase a fine boy, two years of age, then in her arms; on my upbraiding her want of maternal affection, she replied with a smile, that she expected another in a few weeks, and as she could not manage two, she made the first offer of her boy, whom she would part with for a rupee. She came in a few days afterwards, with a basket of fish, but had just sold her child to Signor Manoel Rodriguez, the Portuguese linguist; who, though a man of property, had thought it necessary to lower the price to half a rupee. Thus did this young woman, without remorse, dispose of an only child for fifteen pence.

THE TRIUMPH OF BEAUTY.

History does not, perhaps, furnish us with a more singular female character, than we meet with in Vanda, a Princess of Poland. She possessed all the charms of beauty, and to all the virtues peculiar to her sex, added a masculine spirit, and an heroic courage. Her affability captivated every heart. Guided by prudence and justice, she reigned with glory, and her people enjoyed the blessings of a wise administration. Rithogar, King of Teuton, sent ambassadors to her, to demand her hand in marriage, and to declare war against her, in case she refused; for he imagined, that the terror of his arms would prudently determine this Princess not to refuse his offers; but he was sadly deceived. Vanda was of too bold and haughty a temper to be intimidated, and was enraged against a barbarian, who thus dared to make love by force of arms. She preferred a just war to the embraces of a tyrant, and having animated her troops with the same courage she herself possessed, she led them forth to meet the enemy, over whom she obtained a complete victory without striking a blow. At the head of her own army she harangued that of Rithogar with such eloquence, that all his officers, charmed with her spirit and person, refused to fight against her. This Princess knew how by her eloquence, to soften the hearts of a martial enemy, who, forsaking their ranks, came to lay down their arms at her feet, and adore her as a divinity. Rithogar, transported with love, shame, and despair, drew his sword, and sheathed it in his bosom. Vanda returned in triumph to Cracow, where she and her subjects enjoyed the pleasures of a lasting peace.

STRIKING INSTANCE OF COURAGE.

Among the prisoners of war, which Cyrus had taken after the defeat of the Assyrians, was a young princess of most exquisite beauty, whom they reserved for Cyrus. Her name was Panthea, the wife of Abradates, King Susiana. Upon the report made to Cyrus of her extraordinary beauty, he refused to see her: "For fear," said he, "that such an object should engage my affection more than I desire, and divert me from the execution of those great designs I have in view." This singular moderation in Cyrus was undoubtedly an affect of the excellent education he had received; for it was a principle among the Persians, never to speak before young persons any thing that tended or related

to love, lest their natural inclination to pleasure, which is so strong and violent at the age of levity and indiscretion, should be awakened and excited by such discourses, and should hurry them into the grossest follies.

Araspes, a young nobleman of Medea, who had the lady in his custody, had not the same distrust of his own weakness, but pretended, that a man may always be master of himself. Cyrus committed the princess to his care, and at the same time gave him this very prudent admonition: "I have seen many persons," said Cyrus, "who have thought themselves very strong, wretchedly overcome by that violent passion, in spite of their resolution; who have owned afterwards, with shame and grief, that their passion was a bondage and slavery, from which they had not the power to redeem themselves; an incurable distemper, out of the reach of all remedies and human efforts; a kind of bond or necessity, more difficult to force than the strongest chains of iron."-"Fear nothing," replied Araspes, "I am confident of myself, and I will answer with my life, that I shall do nothing contrary to my duty."

His passion, however, for this young princess increased, and by degrees grew to such a height, that, finding her visibly averse to his desires, he was upon the point of using violence with her. The princess at length made Cyrus acquainted with his conduct, who immediately sent Artabasus to Araspes, with orders to admonish and reprove him in his name. This officer executed his orders in the harshest manner, upbraiding him with his fault in the bitterest terms, and with such severity, as was enough to throw him into despair.

Araspes, struck to the soul with grief and anguish, burst into a flood of tears; and being overwhelmed with shame and fear, thinking himself undone, had not a word to say for himself. Some days afterwards Cyrus sent for him. He went to the prince in fear and trembling. Cyrus took him aside, and, instead of reproaching him with severity as he expected, spoke gently to him, acknowledging that he himself was to blame, for having imprudently exposed him to so formidable an enemy. By such an unexpected kindness, the young nobleman recovered both life and speech; but his confusion, joy, and gratitude, expressed themselves first in a torrent of tears: "Alas!" said he, "now I am come to a knowledge of myself, and find most plainly, that I have two souls; one that inclines me to good, and another that inclines me to evil. The former prevails when you speak to me, and come to my relief: when I am alone, and left to myself, I give way to, and am overpowered by, the latter." Araspes made an advantageous amends for his fault, and did Cyrus considerable service by retiring among the Assyrians under the pretence of discontent, and by giving intelligence of their measures and designs.

The loss of so brave an officer, whom discontent was supposed to have engaged in the enemy's party, caused a great concern in the whole army. Panthea, who had been the cause of it, promised Cyrus to supply his place with an officer of equal merit; whereby she meant her husband Abradates. Accordingly, upon her writing to him he repaired to the camp of the Persians, and was directly conducted to Panthea's tent, who told him, with a flood of tears, how kindly and tenderly she had been treated by the generous conqueror. "And how," cried Abradates," shall I be able to acknowledge so important a service ?"-" By behaving towards him," replied Panthea, "as he has done towards me." Hereupon he immediately waited on Cyrus, and paying his respects to so great a benefactor: "You see before you," said he to Cyrus," the tenderest friend, the most devoted servant, and the most faithful ally you ever had, who, not being able otherwise to acknowledge your

favors, comes and devotes himself entirely to your service." Cyrus received him with such a noble and generous air, and with so much tenderness and humanity, as fully convinced him, that whatever Panthea had said of the wonderful character of that great Prince, was abundantly short of what he merited. A short time after, Cyrus made preparations for the famous battle of Thymbra, when he honored this prince with the command of his armed chariots.

When Abradates was just going to put on his curiass, which was only of quilted flax, according to the fashion of his country, his wife Panthea came and presented him with an helmet, braces, and bracelets, all of gold, with a coat-armour of his own length, plated at the bottom, and a purple coloured plume of feathers. She had procured all this armour unknown to her husband, that her present might be the more agreeabie from surprise. In spite of all her endeavours to the contrary, when she dressed him in this armour, she shed some tears; but, notwithstanding her tenderness, she exhorted him to die sword in hand, rather than not sygnalize himself suitable to his birth, and the idea she had endeavoured to give Cyrus of his gallantry and worth: "Our obligations," said she " to that Prince are infinitely great: I was his prisoner, and as such was set apart for his pleasures; but when I came into his hands, I was neither used like a captive, nor had I any dishonorable conditions imposed on me for my freedom. He treated me as if I had been his own brother's wife; and in return I assured him, you would be capable of acknowledging such extraordinary goodness."-"O Jupiter!" cried Abradates, lifting up his eyes to heaven, grant on this occasion I may prove myself a husband worthy of Panthea, and a friend worthy of such a benefactor!" Having said this, he mounted his chariot. Panthea, not being able to embrace him any longer, wished to kiss the chariot he rode in; and when she had pursued him with her eyes, till she could see him no more, she retired.

66

The battle began, and Abradates performed prodigies of courage and valour; but his chariot being unfortunately overturned, he and his men were all slain. It is easy to imagine, that Panthea was in the utmost affliction and distress, when news was brought her of the death of her husband. Having caused his body to be brought to her, and holding it upon her knees, in a state of distraction, with her eyes fixed on the melancholy object, she thought of nothing but feeding her grief, and indulging her misery, with the sight of that dismal and bloody spectacle. Cyrus, being told of her situation, immediately hastened to her, sympathized with her affliction, and bewailed her unhappy fate with tears of compassion, endeavouring all he could to comfort her, and ordered extraordinary honors to be shown to the brave deceased Abradates. But no sooner was Cyrus retired, than Panthea, overpowered with grief, stabbed herself with a dagger, and fell dead upon the body of her husband. They were both buried in one common grave upon the very spot, and a monument was erected for them, which was standing in the time of Xenophon.

FILIAL AFFECTION.

Profane history furnishes many fine examples of this amiable virtue, of which the following is a very striking instance:—

The Roman dictator, T. Manlius, having exercised great cruelty over the citizens, was cited at the expiration of his office to answer for his conduct.

Among other things that were laid to his charge, he was accused with treating with barbarity one of his two sons. Manlius had no other cause of complaint against this son than his having an impediment in his speech. For this reason he was banished far from the city, from his home, and the company of those of his own age and fortune, and condemned to servile works. All were highly exasperated against such inhuman conduct, except the son himself, who, under the greatest concern that he should furnish matter of accusation against his own father, resolved upon a most extraordinary method to relieve him. One morning, without apprizing any body, he came to the city armed with a dagger, and went directly to the house of the tribune Pomponius, who had accused his father. Pomponius was yet in bed. Young Manlius sent up his name, and was immediately admitted by the tribune, who doubted not but he was come to discover to him some new instances of his father's severity. But Manlius, as soon as he was left alone with the tribune, drew out his dagger, and presented it to his breast; declaring he would stab him that moment if he did not swear in the form he should dictate, "Never to hold the assembly of the people for accusing his father." Pomponius, who saw the dagger glittering at his breast, himself alone without arms, and attacked by a robust young man full of bold confidence in his own strength, took the oath demanded of him; and afterwards confessed with a kind complacency in the thing, and a sincerity which sufficiently argued he was not sorry for what he had done, that it was that violence which obliged him to desist from his design.

REMARKABLE FIDELITY OF A DOG.

"Having left Swillendam," says M. Valliant, in his "Travels into the Interior Parts of Africa," on the 12th of January, 1782, I took an easterly course, and, after two days journey, arrived at a wood, named Le Bois du Grand Pere. I determined to stay here till the next day, and prepared accordingly, wishing to explore the wood.

"In calling my dogs, I observed that a little bitch, named Rosette, which I was very fond of, was wanting. Concerned at her absence, as she was a real loss to my pack, I inquired of all my people whether they had seen her on the road. One, only, assured me that he had both seen and fed her in the morning.

"After an hour or two spent in fruitless searches, I sent out my Hottentots to call on all sides; I likewise fired my piece several times, thinking the report might reach her, and put her on the scent. When I saw their endeavours did not succeed, I ordered one of my men to mount my horse immediately, and return the way we came; directing him to spare no pains in tracing my favorite.

"In about four hours we saw the messenger returning on full gallop, carrying before him, on the pommel of the saddle, a chair and a large basket. Rosette was running before, appearing as pleased to see me, as I was satisfied with her return.

"The Hottentot informed me that he had found her, at about two leagues distance, seated in the road, by the side of the chair and basket, which had dropped from our waggon without being perceived.-I had heard much of the fidelity of dogs in similar cases, but this was the first instance I had ever witnessed of it.