statement:-Eighteen years ago, this very month, I was sitting on this identical rock, early in the morning, and pondering upon the eventful history of these mighty ruins, when I heard a faint moan issuing from among the subterranean passages, and, after a few minutes'. search, I discovered a girl of a most interesting appearance, fashionably dressed, setting in a nook of them. She had a bunch of flowers in her hand, and was talking to herself, and uttering some incoherent sentences in plaintive accents, but without paroxysm. She seemed to wish to shun me, but as she passed by me, she uttered, "Duncan was buried here, but they have hid his grave, so that I cannot find it," and then lifting up her eyes filled with tears, said, "Will you not tell me where it is?" I endeavored to soothe her, and made a show of attempting to find the spot where Duncan was buried, and at the same time to engage her in conversation, to discover her place of residence, that I might restore her to her friends; but before I could get any satisfactory answer on this score, several gentlemen made their appearance, who had been in search of her, and were rejoiced at finding her. On my stating to a middle-aged gentleman, one of the number, all I knew about her visit to the ruins, he announced himself to be her father, and stated that he lived about twelve miles distant from where we then were; and without hesitation gave me this narrative: "When General McComb, with Commodore McDonough, was defending our state at Plattsburgh, the militia organized themselves throughout the state, and we were not backward in our town. Among

those who started with alacrity, were two young men of my acquaintance, a lawyer and a merchant, who were volunteers. The lawyer was elected a captain of a company, and the merchant a lieutenant. The latter, when he arrived at Plattsburgh, with the consent of his captain and superior officers, volunteered to take command of a corps of infantry to serve as men of all-work on board of the fleet. He had been long acquainted with Commodore McDonough, who knew the sterling courage and real moral worth of his friend. The fight, as you know, was one both fierce and bloody. At the close of the action, Lieutenant Duncan was killed, fighting by the side of the gallant commander, while in the arduous discharge of his duty. Until the news of his death reached us, I had not the slightest thought that my daughter's affections were engaged to Duncan. Nor do I now believe that there was any thing settled between them. She had been viewed with partial eyes by both the gentlemen; and perhaps in that playful, giggling age, she might have been courteous to both, without, at that time, having made a decision as to either; and sure I am that neither had made any direct advances. For such was her openness and singleness of heart, that she would have communicated the fact to me or her mother. They were both excellent young men, and the preference would have without hesitation met my decided approval, although I should have preferred Captain Darlington, perhaps for no other reason than, as I had often consulted him in my business, I knew him better than I did

Duncan. The body of Duncan was brought by the request of the whole village, to be buried in my town, and I offered my own tomb on the occasion. My own, I saythe one I built and expect to repose in. The body was buried with military honors-the scene was imposing. The people turned out in a body to honor his memory. The unmarried ladies walked two and two, at the funeral dressed in white, with a black ribbon in their bonnets or hair. On this day it was remembered, and which proved true, that in Duncan's pocket-book a note was found, addressed to my daughter. Suggestions of his being engaged to her were made, as will always happen on such occasions. It was affectionate, but made no direct intimation of any engagement. The note was something like this:

Dear Isabella,

'On Ship Board.

The enemy are now bearing down upon us; the conflict will be severe. I hope you will not think me influenced by any unmanly fears, but I have a presentiment that this day will be my last. Give your whole heart to Darlington; he deserves your affections; he is a noble fellow. I have this morning made my will, and you and he are heirs of the little earnings I may die possessed of.

Yours truly,

J. D.'

"This note reached my daughter by some injudicious friend, as she was suffering under a slow nervous fever, and it made a sad impression on her mind, which all our efforts could not counteract. She continually dwelt upon the thought of his death, night and day; she

declared that she was solemnly engaged to Duncan, although it was not the fact; and she blamed herself for permitting him to go to the battle-field. She had a sound mind, and a pure heart; and if she had been in health, would have mourned Duncan as a friend, but would not have bewailed him as a lover. She was fully aware of the superior talents of Darlington-but there was something in the chivalrous character of her friend who had fallen at the post of honor, that took entire possession of her soul. She fell at once into a delirium which was mild and gentle. She amused herself with little cares, and never until yesterday discovered the slightest disposition to wander from home. She spends most of her time in reading and making garments for the poor; and of late has been wonderfully calm." I found that the young gentleman who was with the father was counsellor Darlington. He seemed depressed, and treated the maniac with the greatest attention. I compassionated his situation, and endeavored to draw him into a confidential conversation. This was not a difficult task; for a wounded bosom pours out its griefs to all who search it with the appearance of kindness. I stated to him that, from having a brother bereft of reason, I had long been in the habit of examining the diseases of the mind, and was decidedly of opinion that this case belonged to a curable class. He was impatient to be acquainted with the course I should recommend ;-but there was still a look of incredulity on his countenance. I remarked to him, that I had observed that she had a bunch of fresh

flowers in her hand, when I first saw her. Does her father, said I, cultivate a garden? His reply was, he has a large kitchen and fruit garden, with some grounds devoted to flowers, but these I believe she planted before she was taken ill, after she had left school. It is a fine piece of land, and capable of great improvement. Have you a sister? was my next inquiry. I have, he replied, a fine, intelligent, sprightly girl; one of the least selfishness I ever saw; devoted to me and a friend to Isabella. Enough, said I, she must be the principal agent in my surgery. Make them constant companions, without any third person to interfere with their amusements, or friendships. Let her father employ a gardener, and put the whole direction of his labors under the superintendance of the two girls. Ransack the country for flower seeds, and plants;-present them with singing birds ;the note of the canary is cheerful, and the bird is hardy. Encourage the neighbors to visit the garden for its flowers, plants, and its aviary ;-have some shrubs and bushes and seeds to dispose of. The cheerful young girls will come for such presents. Throw on her work-table some splendid editions of such gentle poets as Thompson, Goldsmith, and Cowper;-unite with them a port-folio of fine engravings, and, if possible, get them to copy some of the simplest, such as will rather amuse than fatigue the artist. Make the employment as constant as their constitutions will bear. Do not suffer them to hear a gloomy word, from any one; but, if possible, give a perpetual sunshine to the soul.