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ders of the natives. Soon the Delawares separated from the Mohegans, to return to their own territory. In passing through a populous town, I sold a valuable watch and necklace, the gifts of my sainted husband, in the early and cloudless days of our love. Their avails, like the cruse of oil, of her whom the prophet saved, have not yet failed. They will probably suffice for my interment.

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My reception from good Martha, was most soothing to my lone heart. From that moment to this, her maternal kindness has never slumbered. With that tender care, so dear to the wounded, solitary spirit, she has promoted my comfort, and mitigated the pains of my disease.

"At my first admission to this humble abode, I cherished the hope of returning to England. But to what should I have returned? Only to the graves of my parents. With the disconsolate and eloquent Logan, I might say,- There runs not a drop of my blood, in the veins of any living creature. Who is there to mourn for Oriana ?—Not one.' Throughout the whole range of my native country, would there have been a cottage to afford me shelter, or friends to minister to me night and day, like these aged beings? "But with whatever attractions the land where I first drew breath, would sometimes gleam upon my exiled eye, all hope of again beholding it has been long extinguished. The disease, to which my early youth evinced a predisposition, and which was probably inherited from both my parents, soon reveal

ed itself. Its progress was gradual, but constantly I have been conscious of its latent ravages. My retreat, which to most beholders might have seemed as undesirable as obscure, so accorded with my subdued feelings, that like the disciple upon the mountain of mystery, I have often exclaimed,—' Master, it is good to be here.'

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Here, I have learned to estimate a race, to which the world has done immense injustice. Once, I had stigmatized them as the slaves of barbarity. Yet were they appointed to exhibit to my view, in combination with strong intellect, capabilities of invincible attachment and deathless gratitude, which, however the civilized world may scorn in the cabin of the red man, she does not often find in the palaces of kings. Here I have felt how vain is that estimation in which we hold the shades of complexion and gradations of rank-how less than nothing, the tinsel of wealth, and the pageantry of pomp, when 'God taketh away the soul.'

"The pride, and earthly idolatry of my heart, have been subdued by affliction; and affliction, having had her perfect work, has terminated in peace. Often, during this process, have I been reminded of that beautiful passage of Dumoulin,- Jesus, in going to Jerusalem, was wont to go through Bethany, which signifies, the house of grief :' so must we expect to pass through tribulation, and through a vale of tears, before we can enter upon the peace of the heavenly Jerusalem.

"Still, I quit not this existence like the ascetic, for whom it has had no charms. Its opening was gild. ed with what the world acknowledges to be happiness; and its close with that joy to which she is a stranger. For your instructions, your prayers, my revered friend, receive the blessings of one, who will henceforth have neither name nor memorial among men. Your last kind office will be to lay her wasted frame where saints slumber; may she meet you at their resurrection in light. Her parting request is, that you would remember with the benevolence of your vocation, those who were to her, parents without the bonds of affinity, philanthropists without hope of applause,—and, though bearing the lineaments of a proscribed and perishing race, will, I trust, be admitted to a bright, inalienable inheritance."

PRAYER.

How purely true, how deeply warm,
The inly-breathed appeal may be,
Though adoration wears no form,

In upraised hand or bended knee.
One Spirit fills all boundless space,

No limit to the when or where; And little recks the time or place That leads the soul to praise and prayer.

Father above, Almighty one,

Creator, is that worship vain

That hails each mountain as thy throne,
And finds a universal fane?

When shining stars, or spangled sod,

Call forth devotion, who shall dare

To blame, or tell me that a GOD

Will never deign to hear such prayer?

Oh, prayer is good when many pour
Their voices in one solemn tone;
Conning their sacred lessons o'er

Or yielding thanks for mercies shown. 'Tis good to see the quiet train

Forget their worldly joy and care, While loud response and choral strain Reëcho in the house of prayer.

But often have I stood to mark

The setting sun and closing flower;

When silence and the gathering dark
Shed holy calmness o'er the hour.
Lone on the hills, my soul confessed
More rapt and burning homage there,
And served the Maker it addressed

With stronger zeal and closer prayer.

When watching those we love and prize,
Till all of life and hope be fled;
When we have gazed on sightless eyes,
And gently stayed the falling head;
Then what can sooth the stricken heart,
What solace overcome despair;

What earthly breathing can impart
Such healing balm as lonely prayer?

When fears and perils thicken fast,

And many dangers gather round; When human aid is vain and past,

No mortal refuge to be found;
Then can we firmly lean on heaven,

And gather strength to meet and bear,
No matter where the storm has driven,
A saving anchor lives in prayer.

Oh, God! how beautiful the thought,
How merciful the blessed decree,

That grace can e'er be found when sought,
And naught shut out the soul from Thee.

The cell may cramp, the fetters gall,

The flame may scorch, the rack may tear;

But torture-stake, or prison-wall,

Can be endured with faith and prayer.

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