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ander a tree at the day and hour appointed, all the articles de. manded for his ransom. Powhatan consented; but without having much faith in his promises, believing it to be only an ar tifice of the captain to prolong his life. But he had written on the leaf a few lines, sufficient to give an account of his situation. The messenger returned. The king sent to the place fixed upon, and was greatly astonished to find
every thing which had been demanded.
5. Powhatan could not conceive this mode of transmitting thoughts ; and captain Smith was henceforth looked upon as a great magician, to whom they could not show too much respect. He left the savages in this opinion, and hastened to return home. Two or three years after, some fresh differences arising between them and the English ; Powhatan, who no longer thought them sorcerers, but still feared their power, laid a horrid plan to get rid of them altogether. His project was to attack them in profound peace, and cut the throats of the whole colony.
6. At the appointed time of this intended conspiracy, Pocahontas took advantage of the obscurity of the night, and, in a terrible storm, which kept the savages in their tents, escaped from her father's house, advised the English to be in their guard, but conjured them to spare her family ; to appear ignorant of the intelligence she had given, and terminate all their differences by a new treaty. It would be tedious to relate all the services which this angel of peace rendered to both nations. I shall only add, that the English, I know not from what motives, but certainly against all faith and equity, thought proper to carry her off. Long and bitterly did she deplore her fate ; and the only consolation she had, was captain Smith, in whom she found a second father.
7. She was treated with great respect, and married to a planter by the name of Rolse, who soon after took her to England. This was in the reign of James the first; and it is said, that the monarch, pedantic and ridiculous in every point, was so infatuated with the prerogatives of royalty, that he expressed his displeasure, that one of his subjects should dare to marry the daughter even of a savage king. It will not perhaps be difficult to decide on this occasion, whether it was the savage king who derived honour from finding himself placed upon a level with the European prince, or the English monarch, who, by his pride and prejudices, reduced himself to a level with the chief
8. Be that as it will, captain Smith, who bad returned to London before the arrival of Pocahontas, was extremely happy
of the savages.
to see her again ; but dared not treat her with the same familiarity as at Jamestown. As soon as she saw him, she threw herself into his arms, calling him her father ; but finding that he neither returned her caresses with equal warmth, nor the endearing title of daughter, she turned aside her head and wept bitterly; and it was a long time before they could obtain a single word from her. Captain Smith inquired several times what could be the cause of her affliction. • What ? (said she,) did I not save thy life, in America ? When I was torn from the arms of my father, and conducted amongst thy friends, didst thou not promise to be a father to me? Didst thou not assure me,
that if I went into thy country, thou wouldst be my father, and that I should be thy daughter ? Thou hast deceived me; and behold me now, here a stranger and an orphan.' 9. It was not difficult for the captain to make his peace
with this charming creature, whom he tenderly loved. He presented her to several people of the first quality ; but he never dared to take her to court, from hich, however, she received several favours. After a residence of several years in England, an example of virtue and piety, and attachment to her husband, she died, as she was on the point of embarking for America. She left an only son, who was married, and left none but daughters; and from these are descended some of the principal characters in Virginia.
Parental Affection. 1. The white bear of Greenland and Spitzbergen, is considerably larger than the brown bear of Europe, or the black bear of North America. This animal lives upon fish and seals, and is not only seen upon land, in the countries bordering on the North Pole, but often on floats of ice, several leagues at sea.
The following relation is extracted from the Journal of a voyage for making discoveries towards the North Pole.'
2. Early in the morning, the man at the mast head gave notice that three bears were making their way very fast over the ice, and that they were directing their course towards the ship. They had probably been invited by the scent of the blubber of a sea-horse, killed a few days before, which the men had set on fire, and which was burning on the ice at the time of their approach. They proved to be a she bear and her two cubs
; but the cubs were nearly as large as the dam. They ran eagerly to the fire, and drew out from the flames, part of the flesh of the sea-horse that remained unconsumed, and eat it voraciously. The crew from the ship threw great pieces of the flesh of
the sea-horse, which they had still left upon the ice, which the old bear carried away singly, laid every piece before her cubs as she brought it, and dividing it, gave each a share, reserving bat a small portion to herself. As she was carrying away the last piece, they levelled their muskets at the cubs, and shot them both dead; and in her retreat, they wounded the dam, but not mortally.
3. It would have drawn tears of pity from any but unfeeling minds, to have marked the affectionate concern expressed by this poor beast in the last moments of her expiring young. Though she was sorely wounded, and could but just crawl to the place where they lay, she carried the piece of flesh she had fetched away, as she had done others before, tore it in pieces, and laid it down before them; and, when she saw that they refused to eat, she laid her paws first upon one, and then upon
the other, and endeavoured to raise them up: all this while it was pitiful to hear her moan.
4. When she found she could not stir them, she went off, and when at some distance, looked back and moaned; and that not availing to entice them away, she returned, and smelling round them, began to lick their wounds. She went off a second time, as before; and, having crawled a few paces, looked again behind her, and for some time stood moaning. But still her cubs not rising to follow her, she returned to them again, and, with signs of inexpressible fondness, went round one, and round the other, pawing them, and moaning. Finding at last that they were cold and lifeless, she raised her head towards the ship, and growled her resentment at the murderers, which they re
rned with a volley of musket-balls. She fell between her cabs, and died licking their wounds.
5. Can you admire the maternal affection of the bear, and not feel in your heart the warmest emotions of gratitude for the stronger and more permanent tenderness you have so long experienced from your parents ? while, at the same time, you feel your displeasure arising towards those, who treat with wanton barbarity any of the brute creation.
The Venetian and Turk. 1. A VENETIAN ship having taken a number of the Turks prisoners, sold them according to their barbarous custom, to different persons in the city. One of those slaves, named Ibraim, lived near the house of a Venetian merchant, who was rich, and had an only son, who was about twelve years old. As he had occasion frequently to pass Ibraim, he would stop, and
look very earnestly at him. Ibraim observing in the little boy an appearance of benevolence and tenderness, was greatly pleased with him, and sought to have his company more frequently. The little boy took such a fancy to the slave, that he renewed his visits much oftener than he had done, and brought bim presents for his relief and comfort. But though Ibraim appeared always to be pleased with the innocent caresses of bis young friend, yet he observed Ibraim was very sorrowful sometimes, and even shed tears.
Afflicted by the present appearance of grief and sorrow of heart, the little boy at length requested his father to make Ibraim happy if it was in his power.
2. The father, pleased with this instance of generosity in his son, determined to see the Turk himself, and inquire into the cause of his sadness. The next day he went to see him, and looking at him for some time, was struck with the mildness and Honesty of his countenance. He at length said to him, “Art thou Ibraim, of whose courtesy and gentleness my little son has spoken to me? I am the unfortunate Ibraim,' answered the Turk, 'who have been now three years a captive; during that space of time, this little boy is the only human being that seems to have felt any compassion for my sufferings ; I must confess, therefore, he is the only object to which I am attached in this barbarous and inhospitable country, and night and morning I pray that Power, who is equally the God of the Turks and Chris. tiang, to grant him every blessing he deserves, and to preserve him from all the miseries I suffer.'
3. Indeed, Ibraim,' said the Venetian,' he is much obliged to you, although, from his present circumstances, he does not appear much exposed to danger. Tell me in what I can assist you ; for my son informs me, that he often finds you in sorrow and tears.' • And is it strange,' said the Turk, that I should pine in silence, and be the prey of continual regret and sorrow, who am bereft of my liberty, the noblest gift of heaven ? · And yet how many thousands of our nation,' said the Venetian, does yours retain in chains !'
• I have never been guilty of the inħuman practice of enslaving any of my fellow creatures,' replied the Turk; • I have never increased my property by despoiling the Venetian merchants of theirs; for the cruelty of my countrymen I am not accountable, more than you are for the barbarity of yours.' A swelling tear started from his eye, and be- . dewed his manly cheek. Recollecting himself immediately, and smiting gently on his breast, be bowed with reverence, and said, God is good, and man must submit to his decrees.' 4. Affected with this appearance of manly fortitude, the mer
chant said, “Ibraim, I pity your sufferings, and perhaps I may be able to relieve you. What would you do to regain your liberty ? I would,' said he, meet every pain, and encounter every danger, that can appal the heart of man.
"The means of your deliverance,' said the merchant, are certain, without 80 great a trial. I have in this city an inveterate enemy, who has offered me every insult and injury that malice could invent; but he is as brave as he is haughty, and I have never dared to resent them as they have deserved. Here, Ibraim, is the instrument of your deliverance ; take this dagger ; and when night has drawn her sable curtain over the city, go with me : avenge me of my adversary, and you shall be free ?'
5. Indignant at the idea of being an assassin, he rejected the proposal with disdain ; and raising his fettered arm as high as his chain woul admit, he swore by the mighty prophet Mahomet, - that he would not stoop to so vile a deed, to purchase the freedom of all his race.' The Venetian left him, adding, quite deliberately, “You will think better of this, perhaps, by the next time I visit you.'
6. Returning the next day with his son, he accosted Ibraim mildly, telling him, that though he rejected his proposal before, he doubted not but he might now be convinced. • Insult not the miserable,' interrupted Ibraim warmly, with proposals more shocking than the chains I wear. Know,Christian, that if thy religion permits such deeds, every true Mahometan views them with indignation. From this moment, therefore, let us break off all intercourse, and be for ever strangers to each other.' • No,' answered the merchant, embracing him, 'Let us be more strongly united than ever! Pardon me this unnecessary trial of thy virtue. Mazzarino has a soul as averse to deeds of treachery and bloodshed as Ibraim himself. From this moment, geDerous man, thou art free ; thy ransom is already paid, with no other obligation than that of remembering thy young and faithful friend; and perhaps, hereafter, when you see an unhappy Christian groaning in Turkish fetters, thy generosity may make you think of Venice.'
7. Language cannot paint the ecstacy of joy and gratitude, which Ibraim felt at intelligence so agreeable, but unexpected. It is unnecessary to repeat the many and warm expressions of gratitude, which he uttered as soon as the first tide of joy had 90 abated as to give him utterance. He was set free that very day, and Mazzarino put him on board a vessel bound to one of the Grecian islands, bade him an affectionate adieu, putting a purse of gold into his hand to bear his expenses, and wishing