in an hour, people came flocking in from all quarters, and it was seen, that concealment or escape was no longer possible, and that father and son were destined to die together a felon's death." Here the pastor's voice ceased; and I had heard enough to understand the long deep sigh that had come moaning from that bowed-down figure beside the solitary well. "That was the last work done by the father and son, and finished the day before the fatal discovery of their guilt. It had probably been engaged in as a sort of amusement to beguile their unhappy minds of everanxious thoughts, or perhaps as a solitary occupation, at which they could unburthen their guilt to one another undisturbed. Here, no doubt, in the silence and solitude, they often felt remorse, perhaps penitence. They chiselled out their names on that slab, as you perceive; and hither, as duly as the morning and evening shadows, comes the ghost whom we beheld, and, after a prayer for the souls of them so tenderly beloved in their innocence, and doubtless even more tenderly beloved in their guilt and in their graves, she carries to her lonely hut the water that helps to preserve her hopeless life,from the well dug by dearer hands, now mouldered away, both flesh and bone, into the dust." had not lifted up his head, as the massy bolts were withdrawn, and the door creaked sullenly on its hinges. The father fixed his eyes upon me for some time, as if I had been a stranger, intruding upon his misery; and, as soon as he knew me, shut them with a deep groan, and pointed to his son. I have murdered William-I have brought my only son to the scaffold, and I am doomed to hell!' I gently called on the youth by name, but he was insensible -he was lying in a fit. I fear he will awake out of that fit,' cried the They old man with a broken voice. have come upon him every day since our condemnation, and sometimes during the night. It is not fear for himself that brings them on-for my boy, though guilty, is brave-but he continues looking on my face for hours, till at last he seems to lose all sense, and falls down in strong convulsions, often upon the stone-floor, till he is all covered with blood.' The old man then went up to his son, knelt down, and, putting aside the thick clustering hair from his forehead, continued kissing him for some minutes, with deep sobs, but eyes dry as dust. "But why should I recal to my remembrance, or describe to you, every hour of anguish that I witnessed in that cell. For several weeks it was all ag ony and despair-the Bible lay unheeded before their ghastly eyes-and for them there was no consolation. The old man's soul was filled but with one thought-that he had deluded his son into sin, death, and eternal punishIt was ment. He never slept; but visions, After a moment's silence the old man continued, for he saw that I longed to hear the details of that dreadful catastrophe, and his own soul seemed likewise desirous of renewing its grief,-"The prisoners were condemned. Hope there was none. known, from the moment of the verdict-guilty, that they would be executed. Petitions were, indeed, signed by many thousands; but it was all in vain, and the father and the son had to prepare themselves for death. "About a week after condemnation I visited them in their cell. God forbid, I should say that they were resigned. Human nature could not resign itself to such a doom; and I found the old man pacing up and down the stone floor, in his clanking chains, with hurried steps, and a countenance of unspeakable horror. The son was lying on his face upon his bed of straw, and terrible as those of sleep, seemed often to pass before him, till I have seen the grey hairs bristle horribly over his temples, and big drops of sweat plash down upon the floor. I sometimes thought, that they would both die before the day of execution; but their mortal sorrows, though they sadly changed both face and frame, seemed at last to give a horrible energy to life, and every morning that I visited them, they were stronger, and more broadly awake in the chill silence of their lone some prison house. "I know not how a deep change was at last wrought upon their souls, but two days before that of execution, on entering their cell, I found them sitting calm and composed by each other's side, with the Bible open before them. Their faces, though pale and haggard, had lost that glare of misery, that so long had shone about their restless and wandering eyes, and they looked like men recovering from a long and painful sickness. I almost thought I saw something like a faint smile of hope. "God has been merciful unto us," said the father, with a calm voice. -“I must not think he has forgiven my sins, but he has enabled me to look on my poor son's face-to kiss himto fold him in my arms-to pray for him-to fall asleep with him in my bosom, as I used often to do in the days of his boyhood, when, during the heat of mid-day, I rested from labour below the trees of my own farm. We have found resignation at last, and are prepared to die." "There were no transports of deluded enthusiasm in the souls of these unhappy men. They had never doubted the truth of revealed religion, although they had fatally disregarded its precepts; and now that remorse had given way to penitence, and nature had become reconciled to the thought of inevitable death, the light that had been darkened, but never extinguished in their hearts, rose up anew; and knowing that their souls were immortal, they humbly put their faith in the mercy of their Creator and their Redeemer. "It was during that resigned and serene hour, that the old man ventured to ask for the mother of his poor unhappy boy. I told him the truth calmly, and calmly he heard it all. On the day of his condemnation, she had been deprived of her reason, and, in the house of a kind friend, whose name he blessed, now remained in merciful ignorance of all that had befallen, believing herself, indeed, to be a motherless widow, but one who had long ago lost her husband, and all her children, in the ordinary course of nature. At this recital his soul was satisfied. The son said nothing,but wept long and bitterly. "The day of execution came at last. The great city lay still as on the morn ing of the Sabbath day; and all the ordinary business of life seemed, by one consent of the many thousand hearts beating there, to be suspended. But as the hours advanced, the frequent tread of feet was heard in every avenue; the streets began to fill with pale, anxious, and impatient faces; and many eyes were turned to the dials on the steeples, watching the silent progress of the finger of time, till it should reach the point at which the curtain was to be drawn up from before a most mournful tragedy. "The hour was faintly heard through the thick prison walls by us, who were together for the last time in the condemned cell. I had administered to them the most awful rite of our religion, and father and son sat together as silent as death. The door of the dungeon opened, and several persons came in. One of them, who had a shrivelled bloodless face, and small red grey eyes, an old man, feeble and tottering, but cruel in his decrepitude, laid hold of the son with his palsied fingers, and began to pinion his arms with a cord. No resistance was offered; but, straight and untrembling, stood that tall and beautiful youth, while the fiend bound him for execution. At this mournful sight, how could I bear to look on his father's face? Yet thither were mine eyes impelled by the agony that afflicted my commiserating soul. During that hideous gaze, was insensible of the executioner's approach towards himself; and all the time that the cords were encircling his own arms, he felt them not,-he saw nothing but his son standing at last be fore him, ready for the scaffold. he "I darkly recollect a long dark vaulted passage, and the echoing tread of footsteps, till all at once we stood in a crowded hall, with a thousand eyes fixed on these two miserable men. How unlike were they to all beside! They sat down together within the shadow of death. Prayers were said, and a psalm was sung, in which their voices were heard to join, with tones that wrung out tears from the hardest or the most careless heart. Often had I heard those voices singing in my own peaceful church, before evil had disturbed, or misery broken them;-but the last word of the psalm was sung, and the hour of their departure was come. "They stood at last upon the scaffold. That long street, that seemed to stretch away interminately from the old Prisonhouse, was paved with uncovered heads, for the moment these ghosts appeared, that mighty crowd felt reverence for human nature so terribly tried, and prayers and blessings, passionately ejaculated, or convulsively stifled, went hovering over all the multitude, as if they feared some great calamity to themselves, and felt standing on the first tremor of an earthquake. "It was a most beautiful summer's day on which they were led out to die; and as the old man raised his eyes, for the last time, to the sky, the clouds lay motionless on that blue translucent arch, and the sun shone joyously over the magnificent heavens. It seemed a day made for happiness or for mercy. But no pardon dropt down from these smil ing skies, and the vast multitude were not to be denied the troubled feast of death. Many who now stood there wished they had been in the heart of some far-off wood or glen; there was shrieking and fainting, not only among maids and wives, and matrons, who had come there in the mystery of their hearts, but men fell down in their strength,-for it was an overwhelming thing to behold a father and his only son now haltered for a shameful death. "Is my father with me on the scaffold? give me his hand, for I see him not.” I joined their hands together, and at that moment the great bell in the Cathedral tolled, but I am convinced neither of them heard the sound.-For a moment there seemed to be no such thing as sound in the world;-and then all at once the multitude heaved like the sea, and uttered a wild yelling shriek.— Their souls were in eternity-and I fear not to say, not an eternity of grief." Poetry. (English Magazines, November, 1821.) PARTING. YON fleecy cloud that veils the gentle moon, From all its loves in heaven-that mistress fair. O! Lelia, we must part! For I have been At best a cloud upon thy happiness, Which thou hast render'd bright like that thou' st seen; And like it will I flee in dark distress, To free thy brow from sadness-for 'twill be Clear as that cloudless moon, when I have pass'd from thee. сь. SONNET. O sing that sweet and soothing strrain again! Oft in the quiet night it comes to me, And memory of the past, and home, and thee, And joys long gone are ever in its train : Sweet strains! sweet days! if there be hours when pain Soon can my heast those weaker thoughts restrain, Nor would I prize the uncertain dawning light And full of joy, as when my life begun, E.T. (Monthly Magazine, Nov.) Stephensiana, No. X. GENERAL WASHINGTON'S FATHER and judices-how far opinions and conduct MR. JEFFERSON. THE following particulars I had from of the Rev. Mr.merica, who was well acquainted with Governor Jefferson, and had been actually at college with him. My authority for them is so good, that we may rely upon them. depend on those who have the charge of tuition-of preparing an exordium in A-a fit foundation for the great structure, Man. Leaving this induction to the philosopher's judgment, it is sufficient if I state that young Jefferson's tutor happened to be a French Huguenot, who having suffered injuries and insults, grave and pointed, as the victim of arbitrary power, had conceived the most determined antipathy to kingly government. Placed under this man, whose examples and reasonings were more forcible than his authority, the political morals of the youth corresponded with the means of his education, and he became, in doctrine and theory, with scarcely the exception of a feature, a staunch republican. Mr. Washington's father was a young Englishman, who had repaired to America, and studied mathematics in William and Mary College, in the then Colony of Virginia. Towards the latter end of his life, he purchased a tract of land in that portion of the province which constituted what was called the Back Settlements. So they were at that period, but such a difference has taken place, in consequence of the extension of the Indian country, that they now form a part of the interior. To his house and plantations he gave the name of Monticello, or Little Mountain, and there he spent the remainder of his days. Colonel Wakefield says, that the Washington family emigrated from Thorn, in the neighbourhood of Doncaster, in Yorkshire; and I understand that traces of them are preserved in the church-yard, in the monumental form. Young Jefferson was a boy on the demise of his father, whose moral and religious principles, with the arrangements and pursuits he engaged in as a man of business, had rendered him respectable. During a long minority, the neighbourhood becoming more extensive and populous, from numerous families removing thither, his property kept pace with the improvements and advantages resulting therefrom; so that on his attaining the age of 21, he was considered as one of the most opulent of the Virginians. It would be a curious speculation to trace the extraordinary effects sometimes produced by education-to discuss the point of doctrine, how far principles early instilled, become pre When the unhappy contest took place with our colonies, Mr. Jefferson carried his early principles into practice, declaring against the oppressive conduct of the mother country-exhorting and encouraging the insurgents to persevere in their exertions. On the war breaking out, he acted with great energy and spirit, distinguishing himself by his eloquence in popular assemblies, and employing his efforts to propagate his own principles. To mark his disapprobation of the cruelties exercised by the English, he imprisoned a Colonel Hamilton in a common jail-as an event subservient to the purposes of the Lex Talionis. I should have stated previously that, as soon as qualified for that purpose, he was sent to William and Mary College, where he studied mathematics, under Mr. Small, brother of the late Colonel S., and Greek under Mr. EXTEMPORE, on seeing the new Barracks at Buckingham House, in 1802, with the King's Arms above, and a long chain dang ling below, towards the head of a Centinel. Such are the glories of great George's reign, Below the bayonet, and above the chain! PAUL JONES. This brave man was the son of Robert Craik, Esq. of Arbiggling, county of Dumfries, about sixteen miles distant from the town of that name. His father died at the advanced age of ninety, in 1796 or 7. Paul was his son by a female servant, and as he did not wish to own him, that task devolved on his gardener, Mr. C—, who had a place in the excise, and late in life he came to an estate of about £50 a year. Paul, during his infancy, was brought up on the sea-coast, where Arbigeling is sinted, and a sea-faring life being adapted to his disposition, he early acquired the habits and manners peculiar to its nature, which the local circumstances of the people and country assisted. The choice made by Paul of a profession, to the dignities of which he aspired, contributed, eventually, to his rise and celebrity, by lifting him from obscurity, and enabling him to play, at least, a secondary part, on the stage of public politics. The sea proved fatal, however, to his legitimate brother, the heir to the family estate, who perished during a voyage in an open boat, between Arbiggling and Carlisle ; his first cousin now enjoys the estate. Paul went to sea, sailed to America, and there found himself an humble adventurer: but his conduct manifesting all the characteristics of intrepid and persevering valour, aided by active vigilance, his sentiments also being truly patriotic, on the war breaking out he displayed a degree of vigour, which gave an impulse to American energies, and his exertions contributed to their assistance, in repelling the aggressions of Great Britain. Paul had military talents, with coolness and judgment. In his cruise in the British seas, he signalized alike his skill and prowess, and from the promptness and decision with which he acted, our officers conceded to him superior understanding and a determined mind. He was a man much talked of in the world, and if caressed by the principal actors in different governments, it was personal merit that constituted the ground of his fame and elevation. CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. To deliver my opinion on this subject, I shall premise that my sentiments are similar to the language which philosophy has ever assumed. That labour is honourably and profitably employed by parents in the instruction of their children, which exhibits and inculcates, produces and confirms, mildness and benevolence of character towards their fellow animals. Moral improvement ought to be a general object, preparato ry in education to that which is intellec tual. It is not the bipes impennis only that can resist and complain. Other species, whatever be their necessary inequality, are adapted to their different functions, in the order of beings, and are equally proper for their several destinations in the diversity which pervades the fitness of things. As those are the best governments, and the best upheld, which act systematically on this principle, a portion of tuition, public and private, ought to be directed accordingly. Parents should enter fully and minutely into this subject, as it is a matter of the first impor tance to render liberal sentiments compatible with extensive knowledge and mental vigour. Man arrogates to himself the proud title of Lord of the creation: If he is the first in dignity, he should extend his protection to the dependent creatures, a part of whom suffer from his unparalleled injustice, supported by his extraordinary power. The parent who, either from indifference, or a savage disposition, allows a son to be brought up without forming or correcting his judgment, in accordance with the principle here considered, must expect to reap a crop of ingratitude on the part of the child. Without knowing or wishing to know any thing of his family, sure I am that some gross mismanagement must have taken place in the education of the late Mr. Aof Hampstead, or he could not have ordered a game fowl to be roasted alive, because it had refused to fight |