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CAPT. O'BLUNDER.

After Sir Charles Dash had worn out the credit of his own name in England, he went over to Ireland, where he assumed the name of M'Fury. There he met with a military wild Irishman, Captain O'Blunder, with whom he picked a quarrel about some of their vile intrigues. On this account they met, and according to the style of our modern polite barbarians (called, however, among themselves, men of honour), they fought a duel. The captain proved the best marksman, and shot Sir Charles nearly dead upon the spot: he had only time to utter two or three profane expressions, and spoke no more.

C. and C. Whittingham, College House, Chiswick.

they are quite callous to all the fine feelings of natural affection, while sunk in the gratification of their mere brutal appetites. However the scene, between Mrs. Chipman, and her father, was so affecting that it almost overset me.

Wor. It will be well if the bare recital of matters, does not overset us all: but we must hear it.

Loveg. When I returned, I told her how affectionately her father designed to receive her. She cried, "Had he treated me with severity, and contempt, that, I think I could have borne, for I know I have deserved it; but oh, what I feel at the thought, that such a monster should be treated with so much affection and love, while I deserve to be abhorred by all!" It was some time before I could get her to move off her chair to attempt the walk; and every step she took reminded me, of a criminal going to execution. Though I begged her to suppress the emotions of her mind as much as she could, yet the moment her father opened the door, she was down upon her knees, crying, "Oh my dear father, for God's sake forgive me, for Christ's sake forgive me!" He immediately stooped down and embraced her, and kissed her, and said, "My dear child, I have forgiven you-from the bottom of my heart, I have forgiven you." He attempted to raise her up, immediately she went off in an hysteric fit, and it was full half an hour before she could be brought to her recollection; directly as she could speak, she began again to accuse herself of being her husband's murderer, for her ingratitude to her father, and for her brutality to her child. I then spoke rather sharply to her, and said, that if she had any regard to my advice, and her father's feelings, she must make no more use of that sort of language against herself; and especially being now, as we trusted, in a penitential state, the

their disputes, excited by the mere freaks of passion, and generally in a drunken frolic, when they ought to appeal to the wholesome laws of their country, it will be much to the credit of a civilized nation.

language of humble gratitude, would best suit her state and I went to prayer.

Wor. And how was she after prayer?

Loveg. Somewhat more calm, but still very low and hysterical. I waved the subject as far as I could, and entered into conversation with Mr. Reader about the alteration of his views, as it respected spiritual matters; and I found his mind in a most pleasant state, of holy surprise at his former ignorance, compared with the views he now enjoyed of the gospelsalvation. But while he inadvertently began to mention some of the blessed expressions which dropt from the dying lips of Mr. Chipman, the grief of the poor widow was rekindled almost as bad as ever. She sat sighing, and sobbing all the evening; but as I charged her to make no more of these velrement exclamations against herself, she said little, but wept much. At length she cried, "Father may I be permitted to see my dear child?" He answered, " My dear, you had better wait till to-morrow, till your spirits are a little more calm ;" and in this advice she peaceably acquiesced.

Wor. But I should supose, she had another difficulty to surmount, in returning back to her husband's house.

Loveg. Oh Sir! the very mention of her return thither, quite overset her again.

Mrs. Wor. And it was enough to overset her. What woman who was once blessed with such a husband, who had lost his life through her brutish conduct, could bear to return and find him absent? And what sleep could she expect, while lying on the bed she had so treacherously forsaken; and on which her husband had died of a broken heart?

Loveg. No doubt, but such must have been her reflections, and painful ones they truly were. Slaves of sin, have bad wages for their slavery But when Mr. Reader mentioned whether she chose to stop at day, or two with him, or go to her own house, her grief became nearly as excessive as before. She cried,

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The moment her Father opened the door, she was down upon her knees, crying, "Oh, my dear Father, for God's sake forgive me, for Christ's sake forgive me!" He immediately stooped down and embraced her, and kissed her, and said, "My dear child, I have forgiven you from the bottom of my heart; I have forgiven you."

C. and C. Whittingham, College House, Chiswick.