smuggling! Yes, thus I read---for having been found with their fathers!! I saw many of these children, and tears gushed into my eyes; my breast burned with indignation; nor could I appease my feelings, but with the hope of not dying before I had exposed all the crimes of our criminal legislation !

"A singular circumstance plunged the galley slaves on one occasion into the most profound despair. The Intendant of the Marine received orders to separate the deserters, the smugglers, and the malefactors, into three classes. One would have imagined that criminals of such different casts would have blessed this separation but the contrary was the case: all the galley slaves looked on each other in the same light, for misfortune, like death, reduces all men to a level. Many bitter tears of the heart flowed in abundance at the thought of the separation. What a subject for meditation! how wonderful are the yet unexplored recesses of the human heart!"

ARCHDUKE CHARLES.

When the Archduke Charles was on his way from Bohemia, to take the command of the Austrian army, he met near the scene of action a number of wounded soldiers, who had been abandoned by their commander on the road, for want of horses to draw their carriages in the retreat. The prince, who on many occasions has exhibited striking instances of humanity, immediately ordered the horses to be taken from several pieces of cannon, that were already retreating, saying, "the life of one brave man is better worth preserving, than fifty pieces of ordnance." When General

Moreau, into whose hands the cannon thus abandoned had fallen, heard of the motive that had prompted the sacrifice, he ordered the whole to be restored, observing, that he should be unworthy of being the opponent of his imperial highness, if he took any advantage of so noble an act of humanity.

BATTLE OF CAMPERDOWN.

The Delft, one of the Dutch ships taken at the battle of Camperdown, was in so shattered a state, that after the greatest exertions for five days to keep her from sinking, all hope of saving her was given up. The English prize officer called aside Mr. Hieberg, who had been first lieutenant of the Delft, and who remained on board along with a number of the sick and wounded prisoners, who were not in a condition to be removed, and represented that it was impossible to save all; that he intended at a certain signal to throw himself, with his men, into the long boat, and he invited Hieberg to avail himself of the opportunity to effect his escape. "What!" exclaimed Hieberg, " and leave these unfortunate men? (pointing to his wounded countrymen, whom it had been necessary to bring on deck, as the hold was already full of water.) No: no: go, and leave us to perish together." The English officer, affected by the generosity of Hieberg's answer, replied, "God bless you, my brave fellow: here is my hand; I give you my word, I will stay with you." He then caused his own men to leave the ship, and remained himself behind to assist the Dutch. The Russel soon sent her boats to their succour, which brought off as many as could leap on board

them. The boats lost no time in making a second voyage with equal success. The Delft was now cleared of all but Hieberg, and the English officer, with three subaltern Dutch officers, and about thirty seamen, most of them so ill from their wounds as to be unable to move. While still cherishing the hope

that the boats would come a third time to their assistance, the fatal moment arrived, and on a sudden the Delft went down. The English officer sprang into the sea, and swam to his own ship; but the unfortunate Hieberg perished, the victim of his courage and humanity.

THE MONKS OF ST. BERNARD.

The hospitality of the convent of St. Bernard, and the unwearied humanity of the Monks, on every occasion that can possibly call for its exercise, have long been proverbial, and numerous instances occur every season, of persons saved by their interference, or relieved by their bounty. In the year 1818 alone, the meals furnished to travellers by this convent, amounted to no fewer that 31,078.

An enterprising English party, consisting of men and women, took shelter in the convent of St. Bernard during a fall of snow. The monks fed them and their horses as long as they could, giving up their bread to the beasts, when they had no more crude grain to bestow on them. The guests had then no other alternative but that of departing; but how were they to get the horses over the snow, which was yet too soft to support them? The ingenuity and activity of the monks found an expedient. They turned out with

their servants, and placing blankets before the animals, which were carried forward and extended afresh, as soon as passed over, conducted men, women, and beasts in safety over their mountain.

The breed of dogs, kept by the monks to assist them in their labours of love, has been long celebrated for its sagacity and fidelity. All the oldest and most tried of them were lately buried, along with some unfortunate travellers, under a valanche; but three or four hopeful puppies were left at home in the convent, and still survive. The most celebrated of those who are no more, was a dog called Barry. This animal served the hospital for the space of twelve years, during which time he saved the lives of forty individuals. His zeal was indefatigable. Whenever the mountain was enveloped in fogs and snow, he set out in search of lost travellers. He was accustomed to run barking until he lost breath, and would frequently venture on the most perilous places. When he found his strength was insufficient to draw from the snow a traveller benumbed with cold, he would run back to the hospital in search of the monks.

One day, this interesting animal found a child in a frozen state, between the bridge of Dronaz and the ice-house of Balsora: he immediately began to lick him, and having succeeded in restoring animation, by means of his caresses, he induced the child to tie himself round his body. In this way he carried the poor little creature, as if in triumph, to the hospital. When old age deprived him of strength, the prior of the convent pensioned him at Berney, by way of reward. After his death, his hide was stuffed and deposited in the museum of that town. The little phial, in which

D

he carried a reviving liquor for the distressed travellers whom he found among the mountains, is still suspended from his neck.

PETITION OF THE HORSE.

In the days of John, King of Atri, an ancient city of Abruzzo, there was a bell put up, which any one that had received any injury went and rang, and the king assembled the wise men chosen for the purpose, that justice might be done. It happened that after the bell had been up a long time, the rope was worn out, and a piece of wild vine was made use of to lengthen it. Now there was a knight of Atri, who had a noble charger which was become unserviceable through age, so that to avoid the expence of feeding him, he turned him loose upon the common. The horse, driven by hunger, raised his mouth to the vine to munch it, and pulling it, the bell rang. The judges assembled to consider the petition of the horse, which appeared to demand justice. They decreed that the knight whom he had served in his youth, should feed him in his old age---a sentence which the king confirmed under a heavy penalty.

MAGNANIMOUS REPROOF.

The Emperor Joseph II. walking one day on the Prater at Vienna, met a young woman who seemed in great distress. He inquired the cause, and found that she was the daughter of an officer who had been killed in the imperial service, and that she and her mother had supported themselves by their industry,