graces and of her thoughts, which you may divine but cannot know; who, as a virgin and as a mother, is full of secrets; who seduces so powerfully by her ignorance, and whom Heaven formed for virtue and the most mysterious of sentiments, modesty and love-shall woman, I say, renouncing the engaging instinct of her sex, presume, with a rash and feeble hand, to attempt to withdraw the thick veil which enshrouds the Divinity? Whom does she think to please by this effort, alike absurd and sacrilegious? Does she hope, by adding her pe'ty blasphemies, and her frivolous metaphysics to the imprecations of Spinosa and the sophistry of Bayle, to give us a high opinion of her genius? Without doubt she has no thoughts of marriage, for what sensible man would unite himself for life to an impious partner? The infidel wife seldom has any idea of her duties; she spends her days either in reasoning on Virtue without practising its precepts, or in the enjoyment of the tumultuous pleasures of the world. Her head is empty, her soul hollow, she falls a prey to languor; she has neither God nor domestic concerns to fill the vacant abyss of her moments. || days the violence of her disorder A dismal coffin contains the whole of the unhappy woman: at her funeral are seen no disconsolate sons, no dishevelled daughters, no weeping grand children, the worthy retinue which, with the benediction of the people, and the solemn hymns of priests, accompanies the mother of a family to the tomb. Perhaps, however, some unknown son, a stranger to the shameful secret of his birth, accidentally passes that way; he is astonished at the sight of the lonely bier, and enquires the name of the deceased of the four bearers, who are about to throw to the worms the carcase which was promised them by the female Atheist. But the day of vengeance approaches-time arrives, leading age by the hand. The spec're, with silver hair, arched shoulders, and icy hands, plants himself on the threshold of the female Atheist; she perceives him and shrieks aloud. Who now shall hear her voice? Her husband? She has none; long, very long, has he withdrawn from the theatre of his dishonour. Her children? Ruined by an impious education, and by maternal example, they concern themselves not about their mother? If she surveys the past, she beholds a pathless waste; her virtues have left no traces behind them. For the first time her melancholy thoughts are directed towards Heaven; she begins to be sensible how much more consolatory it would have been to have a religion. Unavailing regret the last punishment of Atheism in this world is to wish for faith without being able to obtain it When the Atheist, at the term of his career, discovers the delusions of a false philosophy, when annihilation, like an appalling meteor,begins to appear above the horizon of death, he would fain return to God; but it is too late; the mind, hardened by incredulity, rejects all conviction. Oh! then how profound is his solitude, abandoned || at once by God and by men!-She dies; the deserted wretch expires in the arms of a hireling nurse, or of a man disgusted with her sufferings,|| who is surprized that she has withstood so many How different is the lot of the religious woman! Her days are environed with joy; her life is replete with love; she is respected, beloved by her husband, her children, her household; all place unbounded confidence in her, because they are firmly convinced of the fidelity of one who is faithful to her God. The faith of this Christian is strengthened by her happiness, and her hap piness by her faith; she believes in God because she is happy, and she is happy because she believes in God. Ah! can a mother require any thing farther to convince her of the reality of supreme felicity than to see her infant smile? Is not the bounty of Providence most signally displayed in the cradle of man? What affecting harmonies! were they only the effects of inanimate matter. The child is born, the breast fills; the mouth of the young stranger is not armed, for fear of injury to the chalice of the maternal banquet; he grows, the milk becomes more nourishing, he is weaned, and the wonderful fountain ceases to flow. This woman, before so weak, has all at once acquired such strength as enables her to bear fatigues which a robust man could not possibly endure. What is it that awakes her at midnight, at the very moment when her infant is ready to demand the accustomed repast? Whence comes that address which she never before possessed? How she handles the tender flower without hurting it! Her attentions seem to be the fruit of the experience of her whole life, and yet that is her first born! The slightest noise terrified the virgin: where are the embattled armies, the thunders, the perils, capable of appalling the mother? Formerly this woman required delicate food, a soft couch; the least breath of air incommoded her; now, a crust of bread, a handful of straw are sufficient; nor wind ner rain scarcely makes any impression, while she has in her breast a drop of milk to nourish her son, and in her rags a corner to cover him. EXTRAORDINARY FOREWARNING, AS IT REALLY OCCURRED IN LORD TYRONE'S FAMILY, IN IRELAND. LORD TYRONE and Lady Beresford were born in Ireland; they were left orphans in their infancy, to the care of the same person, by whom they were both educated in the principles of Deism by their guardian. When they were each of them about fourteen years of age they fell into very different hands. The person on whom the care of them now devolved used every possible endeavour to eradicate the erroneous principles they had imbibed, and to persuade them to embrace the revealed religion, but in vain; their arguments were insufficient to convince them, though they were powerful enough to stagger their former faith. Though now separated from each other, their friendship continued unalterable, and they continued to regard each other with a sincere and fraternal affection. After some years had elapsed, and they were each of them grown up, they made a solemn promise to each other, that whoever should first die, would, if permitted, appear to the other, to declare what religion was most approved of by the Supreme Being. Lady Beresford was shortly after addressed by Sir Mareus Beresford, to whom, after a few years, she was married; but no change in condition had power to alter her friendship; the families frequently visited each other, often spent more than a fortnight together; a short time after one of these visits, Sir Marcus Beresford remarked, when his Lady came down to breakfast in the morning, that her countenance was unusually pale, and bore evident marks of terror and confusion; he enquired anxiously after her health, she assured him she was well, perfectly well; he repeated his enquiries, and begged to know if any thing had disordered her; she replied no, she was as well as usual. "Have you hurt your wrist, have you sprained it?" said he, observing a black ribband bound round it. She replied no, she had not; but added, "let me conjure you, Sir M. never to enquire the cause of my wearing this ribband, you will never more see me without it; if it conerned you as a husband to know it, I would not for a moment conceal it from you, I never in my life denied you a request, but of this I must entreat you to forgive my refusal,|| and never to urge me further on the subject." "Very well, my Lady," said he, smiling, you so earnestly desire me, I will enquire no further." "since The conversation here ended; but breakfast was scarcely over when Lady B. enquired if the post was come in? she was told it was not. In a few minutes she again rang the bell for her servant, and repeated the enquiry, is not the post vet come? she was told it was not. "Do you expect any letter" said Sir M. " that you are so anxious concerning the coming of the post 39 66 I do," she answered, “I expect to hear that Lord Tyrone is dead, he died last Tuesday at four o'clock." "I never in my life," said Sir M. "believed you superstitious, but you must have had some idle dream, which has thus alarmed and terrified you." At that instant a servant opened the door, and delivered to them a letter, sealed with black “It is as I expected," exclaimed Lady B; "he is dead." Sir M. opened the letter; it came from Lord Tyrone's steward, and contained the melancholy intelligence that his master had died the Tuesday preceding, at the very time Lady B. had specified. Sir M. intreated her to compose her spirits, and to endeavour as much as lay in her power not to make herself unhappy. She assured him she felt much easier than she had done for some time past; and added, "I can communicate to you intelligence which I know will prove welcome, I can assure you, beyond the possibility of a doubt, that I am with child of a son." Sir M. received the intelligence with that pleasure that might be expected, and expressed in the strongest terms the felicity he should experience from such an event, which he had long so ardently desired. After a period of some months, Lady B. was delivered of a son; she had before been the mother of two daughters only. Sir Marcus survived the birth of his son little more than four years. After his decease, his lady went but little from home; she visited no family but that of a clergyman who resided in the same village, with whom she frequently passed a few hours; the rest of her time was entirely devoted to solitude, and she appeared for ever determined to banish all other society. The clergyman's family consisted of himself, his wife, and one son, who at Sir M.'s death was quite a youth; to his son, however, she was afterwards married, in the space of a few years, notwithstanding the disparity of his years, and the manifest imprudence of such a connection, so unequal in every respect. The event justified the expectation of every one; Lady B. was treated by her young husband with neglect and cruelty, and the whole of his conduct evinced him the most abandoned libertine, utterly destitute of every principle of virtue and humanity. To this, her second husband, Lady B. brought two daughters; afterwards, such was the profligacy of his conduct, that she insisted upon a separation. They parted for several years, when so great was the contrition he expressed for his former ill conduct, that, won over by his supplication and promises, she was induced to pardon, and once more reside with him; and was, after some time, made the mother of another daughter. The day on which she had lain-in a month, being the anniversary of her birth-day, she sent for hady ——, of whose friendship she had long been possessed, and a few friends, to request them to spend the day with her. About noon, the clergyman by whom she had been baptized, and with whom she had all her life maintained an intimacy, came into the room to enquire after her health; she told him she felt perfectly well, and requested him to spend the day with her, it being her birth-day. "For," said she, "I am forty-eight this day." "No, my Lady," answered the clergyman, 66 you are mistaken, your mother and myself have had many disputes concerning your age, and I have at length discovered I am right; happening to go last week to the parish you were born in, I was resolved to put an end to my doubt by searching the register, and find that you are forty-seven this day." "You have signed my death warrant," said she, I have not much longer to live. I must, therefore entreat you to leave me immediately, as I have some things of importance to settle before I die." When the clergyman had left Lady B. she sent to forbid her company coming; and at the same time to request Lady -> and her son of whom Sir M. Beresford was father, and who was then about twelve years of age to come to her apartment. Immediately upon their arrival, having ordered her attendance to quit the room, "I have something to communicate to you both before I die, a period which is not far distant: You, lady, are no stranger to the friendship that always subsisted between Lord Tyrone and myself; we were educated under the same roof, in the same principles-those of Deism. When the friends into whose hands we afterwards fell endeavoured to persuade us to embrace the revealed religion, their arguments, though insuffieient to convince us, were powerful enough to stagger our former faith, and to leave us wavering between the two opinions. In this perplexing state of doubt and uncertainty, we made a solemn promise to each other that whichever should happen to die first would, if permitted by the Almighty, appear to the other, to declare what religion was most acceptable to him. Accordingly one night, when Sir M. and myself were in bed, I awaked, and discovered Lord Tyrone, sitting by my bed side; I screamed out, and endeavoured, but in vain, to awake Sir M. For Heaven's sake, Lord Tyrone, said I, by what means or for what purpose came you here at this time of night." "Have you then forgot our promise," said he, "I died last Tuesday at four o'clock, and have been permitted by the Supreme Being to appear to you, to assure you the revealed religion is the true and only religion by which we can be saved. I am further suffered to inform you, that you are now with child of a son, which is decreed shall marry my daughter; not many years after his birth Sir M. will die, and you will marry again, and to a man whose ill treatment you will be rendered miserable by, you will bring him two daughters, and afterwards a son, in child-bed of whom you will die in the 47th year of your age." "Just Heaven, exclaimed I, and cannot I prevent this ?" "Undoubtedly you may, returned he-you have a free assent, and may pre vent it all by resisting every temptation to a second marriage; but your passions are strong, you know not their power; hitherto you have had no trial, nor am permitted to tell you; but, if after this warning, you persist in your infidelity, your lot in another world will be miserable indeed." "May I ask, said I, if you are happy." "Had I been otherwise, said he, I should not have been thus permitted to appear to you." "I may thence infer you are happy ;" he smiled; "but how, said I, when morning comes, shall I be convinced that your appearance thus to me has been real, and not the mere phantom of my own imagination.” "Will not the news of my death, said he, be sufficient to convince you?" "No, returned I, I might have had such a dream, and that dream might accidentally come to pass, I wish to have some stronger proof of its reality."" You shall, said he;"-then waving his hand, the bed curtains, which were of crimson velvet, were instantly drawn through a large iron hoop, by which the tester of the bed, which was of an oval form, was suspended : "In that, said he, you cannot be mistaken; no mortal could have perforined this." "True, said I, but sleeping we are often possessed of far greater strength than awake; though awake I could not have done it, asleep I might—I shall still doubt." He then said, "you have a pocketbook, in the leaves of which I will write; you know my hand-writing." I replied "Yes." He wrote with a pencil on one side of the leaves. "Still, said I, in the morning, I doubt, though awake I may not imitate your hand, asleep I might." "You are hard of belief, said he, I must not touch you, it would injure you irreparably, it is not for spirits to touch mortal sible means to conquer a passion, the fatal consequence of which (if I should ever be weak enough to yield to its impulse) I too well knew, and fondly imagined I should overcome its influence; when the evening of one fatal day termi down that abyss I had been so long meditating how to shun. He had frequently been soliciting his parents to go into the army, and at length obtained their permission, and came to bid me farewell before his departure. "The moment he entered the room he fell was miserable-that I alone was the cause of it. That instant my fortitude forsook me, I gave myself up for lost; and considering my fate as inevitable, without fur.her hesitation consented to an union, the immediate result of which I knew to be misery, and its end death. The conduct of my husband after a few years were passed, amply warranted my demand for a separation; I hoped by this means to avoid the fatal sequel of the prophecy; but, won over by his repeated entreaties, I was prevailed on to pardon, and once more to revide with him, though not until after I had, as I supposed, passed my forty-seventh year; but alas! I have heard this day from indisputable authority, that I have hitherto laid under a mistake with regard to my age, that I am but forty-seven this day. Of the near approach of my death, therefore, I entertain not the least doubt, but I do not dread its arrival; armed with the sacred precept of Christianity, I can meet the King of Terrors without dismay; and without a tear bid adieu to the regions of mortality for ever. flesh." "I do not regard a small blemish, said I." "You are a woman of courage, said he, hold out your hand." I did; he touched my wrist; his hand was cold as marble; in a moment the sinews shrunk up, every nerve withered. "Now, said he, while you live, let no mortal eye beholdnated my fortitude, and plunged me in a moment that wrist, to see it would be sacrilege." He stopped-I turned to him again-he was gone.— During the time in which I had conversed with him my thoughts were perfectly calm and collected, but the moment he was gone I felt chilled with horror, and a cold sweat came over me; every limb and joint shook under me; I endea-down on his knees at my feet, and told me he voured to awake Sir M. but in vain; all my efforts were ineffectual. In this state of agitation and horror I lay some time, when a shower of tears came to my relief. I dropped asleep. In the morning Sir Marcus arose and dressed himself as usual, without perceiving the state in which the curtains remained. When I awoke I found Sir M. was gone down. I arose, and having put on my cloaths, went into the gallery adjoin ng our apartment, and took from thence a long broom, such a one as in a large house is frequently used to sweep the corners, with the help of which, though not without difficulty, I took down the curtain, as I imagined their extraordinary position, would excite wonder among the servants, and occasion enquiries I wished to avoid. I then went to my bureau, locked up the pocket-book, and took out a piece of black ribband which I bound round my wrist. When I came down, the agitation of my mind on my countenance was too visible to pass long unob served by Sir M. he instantly remarked my confusion, and enquired the cause. I assured him I was well, perfec ly well, but informed him Lord Tyrone was no more, that he died on the preceding Tuesday at the hour of four, and at the same time entreated him to drop all enquiries concerning the black ribband he noticed on my wrist. He kindly desisted from further importunity, nor did he ever after imagine the cause. You, my son, as had been foretold, I brought into the world, and in little more than four years after your birth your father died in my arms. After this melancholy event, I determined, as the only probable means by which to avoid the dreadful sequel of the prediction, to give up every pleasure, and to pass the remainder of my days in solitude; but few can endure to remain in a state of sequestration, I commenced an intercourse with one family, and only one; nor could I then see the fatal consequences which afterwards resulted from it. Little did I imagine that their son, their only son, then a mere youth, would prove the person destined by fate to prove my undoing. In a few years I ceased to regard with indifference; I endeavoured by every pos "When I am dead, as the necessity of its concealment closes with my life, I wish that you, my Lady, would unbind my wrist, take from thence the black ribband and let my son, with yourself, behold it." Lady B. here paused for some time, but resuming her conversation, she entreated her son to behave so as to merit the high honor he would in future receive from an union with Lord Tyrone's daughter. Lady B. then expressed a wish to lie down on a bed to compose herself to sleep. Lady, and her son immediately called her attendance and quitting the room, after having first desired them attentively to watch their mistress, and should they observe any change in her to call instantly. An hour passed and all was silent in the room, they listened at the door and every thing was still; but in about half an hour more a bell rung violently, they flew to her apartment, but, before they reached the door of it, they heard servants exclaim "my mistress is dead." Lady· then desiring the servants to quit the room, Lady B.'s son with herself approached the bed of his mother, they knelt down by the side of it, Lady - then lifted up her hand, unbound the black ribband, and found the wrist exactly in the same state Lady B. had described, every nerve withered every sinew shrunk up. Lady B.'s son, as has been predicted, is now married to Lord Tyrone's daughter, the black ribband and pocket-book, are now in the possessson of Lady, by whom the above narrative is dated in Ireland; who, together with the Tyrone family, will be found ready to attest its truth. Dublin, August 16, 1802, BONAPARTE'S LETTER AND PROCLAMATION. With a Fac-simile of his Letter, and Lord Nelson's Writing on the Cover. disolement la grandeur m'annue, le sentimen es deseches. la gloire est fade. a 29 ans j'ai tour ment Egoiste. je compte garder ma maison jamais je ne la donnerai a qui que ce soit. je n'ai plus que de quoi vivre! adieu mon unique ami je n'ai jamais eté injuste envers toi! tu me dois cette justice malgre le desir de mon cœur de lettre tut mentend-ambrasse ta femme por inoi. THE following letter was found on the person of the courier in one of the French vessels taken by the fleet under the command of Admiral Lordepuisé. il ne me reste plus qu'a devenir bien vraiNelson at Aboukir. A fac-simile of the lines between brackets was given in the Second Part of "Copies of the Original Letters from the Army of General Bonaparte in Egypt," pub. lished in 1799. The annexed fac-simile of the whole letter is now first engraven. It is entirely in his own hand-writing; it abounds in errors of orthography, and punctuation was not minded. It was not signed, but only scaled with the General's seal; the impression on red wax, represents a female figure standing, with the cap of Liberty and the Fasces; underneath is inscribed République Francaise; the legend round the whole is Bonaparte, Général en Chef. The Proclamation was published in English only, in the First Part of the above-mentioned book; perhaps it may not be unacceptable to re-publish it, with the original French, especially on account of the second paragraph. LETTER. cairo le 7 thermidor (July 25, 1798.) [tu varra dans les papier public la relation des bataille e de la conquete de l'Egypte qui a eté assé dispute pour ajouter une feuille a la gloire militaire de cette armée. legypte est le pays le plus riche en blé, ris, legumes, viandes, qui existe sur la terre la barbarie est a son comple. il ny a point dargent pas même pour solder la troupe. je pense etre en france dans 2 mois.] je te recomende mes interets-j'ai beaup beaup de chagrin domestique car le voile est entierement levée. toi seul me reste sur la terre ton amité mest bien chere, il ne me reste plus pour devenir misantrope qu'a te perdre et te voir me trair-c'est ma triste position que d avoir a la fois tous les sentimens Pour une meme personne dans son cœur. tu mentend! [fais ensorte que jaye une campagne a mon arrivee soit pres de paris ou en burgogne je compte y passer lhiver] et m'y enser er. Je suis annué au citoyen Joseph Bonaparte depute au conseil des 500 Paris. Found on the person of the courier. (In Lord Nelson's writing.) TRANSLATION. Cairo the 7 thermidor (July 25, 1798.) thou wilt see in the public papers the relation of the battle and of the conquest of Egypt which has been enough disputed to add a leaf to the military glory of this army. egypt is the country the most rich in corn, rice, vegetables, viands, which exists on earth barbarism is at its height. there is no money not even to pay the troops. I think of being in france in 2 months. I recommend my interests to thee-I have much much domestic chagrin for the veil is entirely lifted up. thou only remainest to me on earth thy friendship is very dear to me, there only remains for me to become a misanthrope but to lose thee, and see thee betray me-it is my sad position to have at the same time all the sentiments for the same person in one's heart. thou understandest me. make that I may have a country house at my arrival either near paris or in burgundy I mean to pass the winter there and to shut myself up. I am weary of human nature! I am in need of solitude and retirement grandeur is irksome to mc, my sensation is withered. glory is insipid. at 29 years I have exhausted every thing. there only remains for me to become really an Egotist. I reckon on keeping my house I shall never part de la nature humaine! j'ai besoin de solitude et with it to any one, I have now only enough to |