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feen; and there was fomething in the idea of her being arother's forever, that struck him, he knew not why, like a disappointment.'
After fome little speculation on the matter, how. ever, he could look on it as a thing fitting, if not quite al agreeable; and determined on his visit, to see his old friend and his daughter happy.
48. On the last day of his journey, different accidents had retarded bis progrefs; he was benighted before he Teached the quarter in which La Rucbe relided. His guide however, was well acquainted with the road, and be found * himself in view of the lake, which I have before described,
in the neighbourhood of La Rocbe's dwelling, 2 49. Ablight gleamed on the water, that seemed to proceed from the houfe; it moved fowly along as he proceed ed up the fide of the lake, and at lift he saw it glimmering
through the trees, and stop at forme distance from the place 1 where he then was..
50. He fuppofed it forme piece of bridal merriment, and pushed on his horse that he might be a specta:or of the scene ; but he was a good deal shock'd on approaching the Spot, to find it to be the torch of a person cloathed in the dress of an attendant on a funeral, and accompanied by feveral others, who, like him, seemed to have been employ! ed in the rights of tepulture.
$1. On the philosopher's making enquiry who was the person they had been burying ? one of them, with an accent more mournful than is common to their profeffon, answered," then you know not Mademoiselle, fir ! you never beheld a lovelier" . La Rocbe," exclaimed he, in reply
is was the, indeed !! The appearance of grief and surprise which his countenance a fumed, attracted the notice of the peasant with whom he talked.
52. He came up close to the philofopher ! perceives you were acquainted with Mademoifelle La Rocbe. 6 Acquainted with her! Good God! when -how-where did she die? Where is her father ?? She died, fir, of heart break, I believe; the young gentleman to wborn she was foon to be married, was killed in a duel by a French officer, his intimate companion, and to whom before their quarrel, he had often done the greatest favors.
$3: 6. Her worthy father bears her death, as he has
often told us a Christian Ahould. He is even lo composed as to he now in his pulpit, ready to deliver a few exhortations to his parishioners as is the custom with us on fuch oce casions. Follow me, fir, and you will liear'him." He followed the man without answering.
54. The chhurch was dimly lighted, except near the pulpit, where the venerable La Roçbe was feated. His people were now lifting up their voices to that Being whom their pastor had taught them ever to bless and revere. La Roche sat, his figure bending gently forward, his eyes half closed, lifted up in filent devotion. A lamp, placed near him, threw a light strongly on his head, and marked the fhadowy lines of his age acrofs the pzleness of his brow, thinly covered with grey hairs, 55.
The music ceased.La Rocbe fat for a moment, and nature wrung a few tears from him. His people were loud in their grief. The philosopher was not less affected than ther, La Roche atofe.” Father of mercies," faid he, * forgive these tears; assist thy fervant to lift up his soul to thee; to lift to thee the souls of thy people! My friends, it is good fo to do; at all feafous it is good; but in the days of our distress, what a privilege it is! Well faith the facred book, " Trust in the Lord; at all times trust in the 's Lord."
56. " When every other fupport fails us, when the fountains of wordly comfort are dried up, let us, then [cek those living waters which flow from the throne of God. It is only from the belief of the goodness and wisdom of a fupreme Being, that our calarities can be borne in a manner which becomes a man.". 57.
as Humab wifdom is here of little use: for in proPretion as it bestows comfort, it repreise feeling, without which we may cease to be hurt by calamity, but we thall allo cease to enjoy happiness. I will not bid you be fenfi. ble, my friends: 1 cannot.”
I feel too much myself, and I am not ashamed of my feelings ;:bot therefore, may I the more willingly be heard ; therefore have I prayed God to give me Arength to speak to you ; to direct you to him, not with empty words, but with thefe tears ; not from fpeculation, but from experience: that while you see me fuffer, you may know ablo my confolation.
4 You behold the mourner of his only child, the last earthly stay and blessing of his declining years! Such a * child too! It becomes not me to speak of her virtues; yet: it is but grateful to mention them, because they were exerted towards myself. Not many days ago you saw her young beautiful, virtuous and happy; ye who are parents will judge
af my affliction now. But I look towards him who Itrack 1 nd I fee the hand of a father amid the chastenings of
6. Ob! could I make you feel what it is to pour.out the heart when it is prefféd down with many forcows; to pour ? it out with confidence to him in whose hands are life, and of death; on whose power awaits all has the first enjoys, and in contemplation of whom disappears all that the last can is infiat! For we are not as those who die without hope; -we know that our Redeemer liveth; that we shall liver with's him, with our friends, his fervants, in that blessed land whereri forrow is unknown, and happinessi as endless as it is perfect."
61. ^ Go then, mourn not for me; I have not loft my child : But a little wbile and we shall meet again never to be separated. But ye are also my children. Would ye , that I should not grieve without comfort? So live as he lived; that when your death shall come, it may be the death of 1 The righteous, and your latter end like his."
62. Such was the exhortation of La Rocbe: his audia ence answered it with tears. The good old man had dried
his at the altar of the Lord; his countenance had loft its fadnels, and affumed the glow of faith and hope. The philosopher followed him into his house.
63. The inspiration of the pulpit : was part ; the fcenes they had last met in, rushed again on his mind; La Roche threw his arms around his neck, and watered it with his tears. The other was equally affected; They went together in filence into the parlour, where the evening service was wont to be performed.
64. The curtains of the organ were opened;: La Roche To started back at the figlito.Oh my friend," said be, and his tears burst forth again. The philofopher had Dow/ recole : lected himself, he stept i forward ayd drew the cun* tain clofe. - The old man wiped off his tears and taking his friend by the hand, " you see my weakness;!' faidahara
" It is, my
♡ 'tis the weakness of humanity; but my comfort is not therefore Ioft."
65." I heard you," said the other, " in the pulpit; I rejoice that füch confolation is yours.". friend," faid he, « and I trust I mall ever hold it fast. If there are any who doubt our faith, let them think of what importance religion is to calamity, and forbear to weaken its force ; if they cannot restore our happiness, let them not take away the folace of our affliction."
66. The philosopher's heart was smitten; and I have. heard him long after confess, that there were moments, wlien the remembrance overcame him even to weakness; when amidst all the pleasures of philofophical discovery and the pride of literary fame, he called to his mind the venerable figure of the good La Rocbe, and wished that he had never doubted.
FUNERAL OF GENERAL FRASER, NEAR SARATOGA
RELATED BY GENERAL BURGOYNE.
brought up the hill, attended only by the officers who ha: lived in his family. To arrive at the redoubt it palled within view of the greatest part of both armies.
2. General Philips, General Reide fel and myself, whe were standing together, were ftruck with the humility of the proceffion. They who were ignorant that privacy had been requested by General Fraser, might afcribe it to neglect.
3. We could neither endure that reflection, nor indeed restrain our natural propensity to pay
ur last attention to his remains. We joined the proceton, and were witnesses of the affueting scene that enfued.
4. The inceffant cannonade during the folemnity; the fteady attitude and unaltered voice of the chaplain who offi. ciated, though frequently covered with duit, from the shot which the American artillery threw around us; the mute, but expressive mixture of fenfibility and indignation upon every countenance thefe objesis will remain to the last of lift on the minds of every man who was present.
5. The glowing dulkiness of the evening added to the fcenery, and the whole marked a character of that junga
ture, that would make one of the finest subjects for the pench of a master that the field ever exhibited.
6. To the canvas and to the faithful page of a more im. portant historian, gallant friend, I consign thy memory.
Story of Lady Harriet Ackland, by Gen. Burgoyne. * L
ADY Harriet Ackland had accompanied her 1776. In the courfe of that campaign she had traversed a vaft space of country, in different extremities of feafon, and with difficulties that an European traveller will not easily conceive, to attend, in a poor hut at Chamblee, upon lås fick bed.
2. In the opening of the campaign of 1777, Me was restrained, by the positive injunctions of her husband, from offering herself to a share of the fatigue and hazard expected before Ticonderoga. The day after the conqueft ot that place, he was badly wounded, and the crossed Lake Champlain to join him..
3. As foon as he recovered, Lady Harriet proceeded to follow his fortunes through the campaign, and at Fort Ed. ward or the next camp, obtained a toe wheel tumbril, which had been constructed by the artificers of the artillery, foniething fimilar to the carriage used for the mail upon the great roads in Erglard.
4. Major Ackland commanded the British Grenadiers, who were attached to General Fraser's body of the army, and consequently were always the moit advanced pott. Their fituations were often fo alert, that no person slept out of his clothes.
s. In one of these situations, a tent in which the Major and his Lady were afeep, suddenly took fire. An orderly Serjeant of the Grenadiers, with great hazard of suffocati. on, dragged out the first person he
caught hold of. It proved to be the Major.
6. It happened, that in the same inftant, his lady, not knowing what she did and perhaps not perfectly awake, providentially made her escape, by creeping under the walls of the back part of the tent.
7. The first object fhe faw, upon the recovery of her senses, was the Major on the other side, and in the same in