A woman of distinction in Rome had been condemned to a capital punishment. The prætor accordingly delivered her up to the triumvir, who caused her to be carried to prison, in order to be put to death. The gaoler, who had orders to execute her, was moved with compassion, and could not resolve to kill her: he determined therefore to let her die of hunger: besides which, he suffered her daughter to see her in prison, taking care, however, to have her diligently examined, lest she might bring her sustenance. As this continued many days, he was surprised that the prisoner lived so long without eating: and suspecting the daughter, he watched her, and discovered that (like the famous Xantippe, daughter of Cymon) she nourished her parent with the milk of her own breasts. Amazed at so pious, and at the same time so ingenious a device, he ventured to tell the fact to the triumvir, and the triumvir mentioned it to the prætor, who thought the circumstance worthy of being related in the assembly of the people. The criminal was pardoned; a decree passed, that the mother and daughter should be subsisted for the residue of their lives at the expence of the public; and to crown the whole, that a temple, "Sacred to Piety," should be erected near the prison.

EPAMINONDAS, the Thebean general, being asked what was the most pleasing event that had happened to him in his whole life, cheerfully answered, "It was, that he had obtained his glorious victory over the Leuctrians at a time when his father and mother were both living to enjoy the news.

While Octavius was at Samos, after the famous battle of Actium, which made him master of the universe, he held a council in order to examine the prisoners who had been engaged in Anthony's party. Among the rest was brought before him Metullus, oppressed with years and infirmities, disfigured by a long beard and dishevelled hair, but especially by his clothes, which, through his ill fortune, were become very ragged. The son of this Metellus sat as one of the judges, and at first could not easy discriminate his father through his deplorable appearance: at length

however, after viewing him narrowly, having recollected his features, instead of being ashamed to own him, he ran to embrace the old man, and cried bitterly. Then returning toward the tribunal, "Cæsar (said he) my father has been your enemy, I your officer; he deserves to be punished, and I to be rewarded. The favour I desire of you is, either to save him on my account, or to order me to be put to death with him. All the judges were touched with commiseration at this affecting scene; and Octavius himself, relenting, granted to old Metellus his life and liberty.

DARIUS invaded Scythia with all the forces of his empire: the Scythians retreated by little and little, until they came at length to the uttermost deserts of Asia. Here Darius sent his ambassador to them, to demand where it was that they proposed to conclude their retreat, and when they intended to begin fighting. They returned him for answer, with the spirit so peculiar to that nation. "That they had no cities, nor cultivated fields, for the defence of which they should give him battle: but when he was come to the place of their fathers' sepulchral monuments, he should then understand in what manner the Scythians used to fight:" So great a reverence, had even that barbarous nation for the ashes of their ancestors!

The Emperor Decimus, intending and desiring to place the crown on the head of Decius his son, the young prince refused it in the most strenuous manner, saying, "I am afraid lest, being made an emperor, I should forget that I am a son. I had rather be no emperor, and a dutiful son, than an emperor, and such a son as hath forsaken his due obedience. Let then my father bear the rule; and let this only be my empire-to obey with all humility, and to fulfil whatsoever he shall command me." Thus the solemnity was waved, and the young man was not crowned: unless it be thought that this signal piety towards an indulgent parent was a more glorious diadem to the son than that which consisted merely of gold and jewels.

LAMPROCLES, the eldest son of Socrates, fell into a violent passion with his mother. Socrates was a

witness to this shameful behaviour, and attempted the correction of it in the following gentle and rational manner. "Come hither, son," said he. "Have you

never heard of men who are called ungrateful?" "Yes, frequently," answered the youth. "And what is ingratitude," demanded Socrates? "It is to receive a kindness," said Lamprocles, "without making a proper return, when there is a favourable opportunity." "Ingratitude is a species of injustice, therefore," said Socrates. "I should think so," answered Lamprocles. "If then," pursued Socrates, ingratitude be injustice, does it not follow, that the degree of it must be proportionate to the magnitude of the favours which have been received?" Lamprocles admitted the inference; and Socrates thus pursued the interrogations. "Can there subsist higher obligations than those which children owe to their parents; from whom life is derived, supported, and by whose good offices it is rendered honourable, useful and happy?" "I acknowledge the truth of what you say," replied Lamprocles; "but who could suffer without resentment the ill humours of such a mother as I have ?" "What strange thing has she done to you?" said Socrates. "She has a tongue," replied Lamprocles, "that no mortal can bear." "How much more,' said Socrates," has she endured from your wrangling, fretfulness, and incessant cries in the period of infancy ? What anxiety has she suffered ftom the levities, capriciousness, and follies of your childhood and youth? What affliction has she felt, what toil and watching has she sustained in your illness?"

CABINET OF NATURE.

THE MONSOONS.

The setting in of the Monsoon, or tropical sea wind, in the East Indies, is thus described by Forbes in his Oriental Memoirs. The scene was at Baroche, where the British army was encamped. "The shades of evening approached as we reached the ground, and

just as the encampment was completed, the atmosphere grew suddenly dark, the heat became oppressive, and an unusual stillness presaged the immediate setting in of the monsoon. The whole appearance of nature resembled those solemn preludes to earthquakes and hurricanes in the West Indies, from which the east in general is providentially free. We are allowed very little time for conjecture; in a few minutes the heavy clouds burst

over us.

"I had witnessed seventeen monsoons in India but this exceeded them all in its awful appearance and dreadful effects. Encamped in a low situation, on the borders of a lake formed to collect the surrounding water, we found ourselves in a few hours in a liquid plain, The tent-pins giving way, in a loose soil, the tents fell down and left the whole army exposed to the contending elements. It requires a lively imagination to conceive the situation of an hundred thousand human beings of every description, with more than two hundred thousand elephants, camels, horses and oxen, suddenly overwhelmed by this dreadful storm in a strange country, without any knowledge of high or low ground, the whole being covered by an immense lake, and surrounded by thick darkness, which prevented our distinguishing a single object, except such as the vivid glare of lightning displayed in horrible forms. No language can describe the wreck of a large encampment, thus instantaneously destroyed, and covered with water; amid the cries of old men and helpless women, terrified by the piercing shrieks of their expiring children, unable to afford them relief. During this dreadful night, more than two hundred persons, and three thousand cattle perished, and the morning dawn exhibited a shocking spectacle.

The south-west monsoon generally sets in very early, in certain parts of India. "At Anjengo," observes the above author, "it commences with great severity, and presents an awful spectacle; the inclement weather continues with more or less violence, from May to October; during that period, the tempestuous ocean rolls from a black horizon, literally of dark

ness visible;' a series of floating mountains heaving under hoary summits, until they approach the shore, when their stupendous accumulations flow in successive surges, and break upon the beach; every ninth wave is observed to be generally more tremendous than the rest, and threatens to overwhelm the settlement.The noise of these billows equals that of the loudest cannon, and with the thunder and lightning so frequent in the rainy season, is truly awful. During the tedious monsoon I passed at Ajengo, I often stood upon the trembling sand bank, to contemplate the solemn scene. and derive comfort from that sublime and omnipotent decree. 'Hitherto shalt thou come but no further; and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.

LIVES OF CELEBRATED CHILDREN.-NO. 2.

LUCRETIA MARIA DAVIDSON.

The following very interesting facts, are found in a Biography of L. M. Davidson, published lately.

LUCRECIA MARIA DAVIDSON, was born at Plattsburg, on Lake Champlain, September 27th, 1808. Her parents were not rich, and as soon as she was old enough to assist her mother, much of her time was devoted to domestic work. She did not love to do household work, but she always did it with cheerful good will, because she knew it was her duty, and she loved to do her duty.

When her work was done, she ran away to her books with the greatest possible delight. Even when very young, she would hide away with books, pen, ink, and paper, rather than play with her schoolmates. Her father and mother used to wonder what she did with so much paper; but she was too bashful to show what she wrote. Her mother, therefore, was much surprised, when searching in a dark closet, she found a number of little books, made of writing paper, evidently done by a child. The writing consisted of little verses, written to the pictures she had drawn on the opposite page. She cried when she found her treasures had been discovered, and when they were given to her, she took an early opportunity to burn them secretly; this shows how natural it its for people of good sense to be bashful about their own productions.

When she was nine years old, she wrote an epitaph on a dead robin, which her friends have kept.

When eleven years old, she wrote some verses on the death of Washington, which her aunt considered so good, that she thought she must have borrowed them from some book she had read. cretia wept at this suspicion, as if her heart would break; for she

Lu