University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.

Here would be the place to transcribe some of
the incidents of that period, well known by the
cant but significant name, “honey-moon.” Theocritus
must lend his pastoral pencil, and St. Pierre
his unrivalled powers of singing the rural life of
love in the shades of such a retirement, to do ordinary
justice to the history of their enjoyments. In
days of enjoyment like theirs, the youthful imagination
peoples all that surrounds them, with beings
who sympathize with them in their felicity. It is
true, though they were in the midst of a nature no
less pleasant than formerly, they saw it not with
the same eyes; for they were more intently occupied
with each other. The want of the society of

others of their kind was hardly perceived by them,
who possessed in each other
The poor birds fluttered, shook their wings, and
sung, and croaked with the joy of welcome, when
they came forth, as formerly. But their fair mistress,
though she saw them fed, as formerly, had
almost forgotten to caress them. The lessons of
Rescue came to a dead pause for a while, though
she showed great shrewdness and penetration, using
her eyes and senses to the utmost advantage. She
often surprised them with proofs of her native
sagacity, and self-taught proficiency. She saw
the two happy beings, with whom she lived, at first,
it may be, with some natural sensations of envy.
But she never failed to evince, that from the first,
she had felt all the ties and obligations of gratitude.
Daily conversant with two beings, as amiable as
they were happy, she soon added the ties of daily
intercourse and affection to her first obligations.
She appeared to love them with the earnest and
simple affection of a child. Their will was a law,
and their thoughts the measure of what was right.
She saw them obliging, kind, and affectionate, in
every word, look, and action; and this view will
more readily inspire homage in the bosom of a
person in a condition like hers, than to see the
parties possessing and exercising the power of life
and death. Each day brought to each of the
three a new succession of pleasures.

Every time they wandered through the groves,
nature showed herself in some new aspect of beauty;
or some new feature of the seasons, or of their
passing events served to give an agreeable diversity
to the lapse of their hours. They walked.
They angled in the lake or the sea. They snared
birds that were desired for their curious appearance,
or the beauty and splendour of their plumage.
They took short excursions in their boat; though
the bride never entered it without a momentary,
visible paleness, and exacting a promise from her
husband, that he should never go far beyond the
limits of the harbour. Yet she never failed to remark,
that to that boat, she owed the highest enjoyments
of her life.

A life more peaceful than they led in these secluded
shades, cannot be easily imagined. Every
thing that is painful and vexing in human condition,
seemed to be abstracted from their lot. The
repose of nature seemed to have been communicated
to their bosoms; and to leave them little to desire,
or hope, beyond what they actually possessed. As
their domestic enjoyments became deeper, and
more tranquil, adding the sober colouring of reflection
to the bliss of nature and the senses, they
began to find an inexhaustible fund of amusement
in Rescue, whose discipline and instruction they
resumed; and who was becoming every day more

companionable, as well as useful. On her Asiatic
countenance and olive complexion, her varying
thoughts and passions were marked with the distinctness
of the human features on a mirror. As
the process of abstraction and combination had
just commenced in her mind under their eye, and
as, hitherto, nature had been painted in her thoughts
with the singleness and distinctness of vision and
sense, it was delightful to watch the progress of
the change from conceptions, that were paintings,
to those that were formed from reasoning, and
comparing what passed in her own mind with
what passed without her. Her first expressions
in English, beyond mere acts of memory, were
expressed entirely in the language of poetry.
Instead of the dreary, and terrible conceptions
of the North American savage, hers were the
bland, voluptuous, and splendid images of her
own more delicious climate, and more favoured
country. The best of her character was, that
she was not only strong, shrewd, cheerful, and
industrious,—but she was honest, sincere, and
unbounded in her affection for them. As soon as
she understood their wants, her next study was how
to anticipate, and satisfy them. Before the first
month after their marriage was completed, she so
fully understood the duties of the kitchen, that she
felt an ambition in being able to discharge them
unaided and alone.

He found as much amusement in instructing her

in his language, and in learning her to read, as his
wife did in learning her the mysteries of the
kitchen and the ward robe. Her apprehension was
so ready, and her application so unwearied and
indefatigable, that in one month she understood
them, and could make herself understood, upon all
the common points of parlance, with sufficient
clearness. Thus they began to realize the high
satisfaction, not only of training up an excellent
assistant, but a companionable and reasonable
being. To them her docility, gentleness, and
fidelity, soon surrounded her with pleasant associations;
and she appeared not only good, but agreeable;
and had they been called to describe her to a
third person, they would have spoken of her as
having something, which they could not well describe,
of agreeable in her person and countenance.
The first points of instruction, upon which he
wished to exercise her reason and affections, was
that first point in the order of importance—religion.
The being of a God, and the relation of his creatures
to Him, seemed to her a very simple and
obvious idea. It was easy to make her comprehend
the grandeur and the glory of Him, who had
formed the impressive nature which was spread before
her. But, when he thence proceeded to less
obvious points of religious faith and hope, he began
to realize the usual difficulties that all catechists,
who have undertaken to teach people, possessed of
no other than simple ideas, partially understanding,
and understood, have experienced. One question
involved another, and led to points, on which
it was impossible to give her satisfactory explanations.
When he told her, that it was her duty to
believe in God, to love and trust Him, “Me stand
that well,” she said, readily. But when he advanced
to more abstract articles of the christian
faith, the poor savagess would shake her head, and
her countenance would become overcast with
gloom. But they remarked the visible and striking
influence of example. She comprehended,
with astonishing readiness, the nobler actions that
sprung from forbearance or sacrifice, or benevolence,
or love; and from those various and exalted
motives, that produce in disciplined and virtuous
minds, an order of acting so different from that
which she had been accustomed to contemplate.
Whenever she witnessed such an act, and comprehended
its motive, her eye glistened, and the thrill
of virtuous enthusiasm evidently pervaded her
frame; she clasped her hands, and looked upwards,
“Me wish me good. Me pray God, make
me good.” Such was the simple and earnest prayer
of this honest and affectionate creature. She
evidently loved her master, and looked up to him
with a confidence and affection, bordering on
veneration. She never forgot his manner of delivering
her from death. He was her guide and
her example in every thing; and it was happy for
both, that the first use which she made of her
powers in speaking English, was in those continued
eulogies on her master, which fall so pleasantly on
the ears of a wife, who is wholly devoted to her
husband. In regard to her religious instruction,
he finally settled upon the conviction, that minds
like hers, and in her stage of knowledge, can receive
no other than an implicit faith on the confidence
reposed in the superior wisdom and sanctity
of the teacher. Therefore, he taught her in a
solemn and firm tone of voice certain doctrines,
neither to be doubted, nor questioned, but to be
received implicitly, as having been declared by
God himself. Here his instruction ended, and his
wife took it up where he laid it down; and with
the affection and tenderness of a mother, this young
and beautiful woman stood over the docile savage,
on her bended knees, repeating the Lord's prayer,
the apostle's creed, “Now I lay me,” &c. and some
of the simple and beautiful hymns of the Episcopal
service.

In little more than two months she was able so
far to explain herself in English, as to make the
passages of her brief history well and distinctly
understood. It was clear from her communications,
that she belonged to that island, and that her
heart was deeply impressed with all the tender instincts
of home. She had a father and mother, and
a brother, but no sister. When she spake of them,
the fountains of deep feeling within were stirred as
deeply, as if she had been raised in the bosom of

society. The tears flowed, and grief for a while
suspended the utterance of her words.

They gathered from her, that the inhabitants of
this island were engaged in continual hostilities
with those of an adjacent and much larger island,
too remote to be seen from the mountains. On the
opposite side of these mountains she was born.
The hostile savages had made a descent upon her
people. The women had fought with the men.
Their enemies gained the victory. Most of her
people escaped to the mountains. A few prisoners,
among whom was Rescue, were taken. These
people were cannibals, and had eaten two of the
prisoners, and her master had delivered her from
the same fate, as has been related.

The victors had coursed round the island by sea
in their proas; and Rescue, with the vague notions
of relative distances common to savages, imagined
the place of her residence at an immense distance.
She had evidently been brought to their side of the
island because it was uninhabited, and because the
victors had been accustomed to come there, and
celebrate their horrid orgies unmolested. Her notions
of distance were confused, in consequence of
having been carried to the enemy's country, before
she had been brought to their side of the island. It
is true, she described that she lived in view of
mountains that threw up fire and smoke; but she
seemed to have no idea, that they were the same
which were visible from the grotto. The different

aspect of the mountains on her native side of the
island, effectually shielded her simple mind from
the conviction of their identity. They, of course,
concealed these circumstances from her; for they
saw such a strong current of feeling and tenderness
in her thoughts and affections; such earnest
and indelible remembrances, as, they feared, would
induce her to escape, and fly over the mountains,
if she were once aware of the little distance which
interposed between them and her country. Uncommon
quickness of apprehension, and great
amiability of character, endeared her to her deliverers.
She was aid, and society, and amusement;
and her instruction and training were delightful
occupations to them. Her loss would have
been considered a great affliction and privation.
They afterwards had the most ample opportunities
to test the strength of her gratitude and affection,
and to feel rebuked for their want of confidence
in her.

In these annals are recorded their journal of daily
events, which to some would have an absorbing
interest; and some would consider it insupportably
tedious and monotonous. It was that calm, tranquil
existence, in the midst of a delicious climate, abundance,
and gratified affection, where, to the parties,
events in themselves unimportant, have an interest
of a character so peculiar as to vanish in the description.
There were the customary alternations
of delightful days and of lowering skies, and rainy

periods, and tempests. Some of their animals
showed the ingratitude to escape; others died.
Though their projects generally prospered, others
went wrong. Though the tie between the husband
and wife was that of the purest love, yet
it does not appear that they were always alike
affectionate, or alike happy. There were sometimes
slight storms in their moral, as well as their
natural sky. They found no difficulty in obtaining
an ample supply of food; but the birds and
animals of the island soon learned to consider them
as enemies, and to avoid them enough to give the
pursuit of taking them the zest of difficulty. For
easy and ample supplies of vegetables, a garden
became necessary. It would also be a source of
amusement to cultivate one; and it would be an
appropriate ornament to the beautiful view in front
of their terrace. Seeds of all sorts had been saved
from the wreck of the Australasia. A charming
slope was enclosed; and a garden in that delightful
climate and fertile soil only needed the sowing
of the seeds, and the keeping down of the weeds.
The most splendid shrubs, plants, and flowers, soon
graced this favoured spot. To tend it, and beautify
it, and form walks, and shades, and bowers,
was one of those primitive and delightful pursuits,
which proves that it is a natural enjoyment, by
filling the heart with constant and healthful excitement,
that always pleases, and never cloys.

Rescue clearly loved her master more than any

thing else in the world; though her unbounded
affection showed none of the aspects of partaking,
in any degree, of that peculiar affection, that can
only exist between the different sexes. It seemed
to be all gratitude, confidence, unbounded veneration,
and entire reliance upon him, as surpassing in
strength, wisdom and goodness. Her ardent manifestation
of these feelings was at first the source of
feelings of rather an unpleasant character to her
mistress. But she soon learned to understand her,
and do her entire justice. Next to her pride and
affection for her husband, was her fondness for
Rescue. In her eye the olive complexion of Rescue,
and her keen lustrous black eye, was beauty;
and her erect and gigantic height the perfection of
the female form. Her own original propensities
and habits, that had been suspended, but not subdued
by circumstances, were exemplified in the delight
which she took to dress and ornament Rescue,
who, on her part, showed her possession of a
female heart, by a devotion to dress and ornament,
as absolute as that of her mistress. Nothing rendered
Rescue and her mistress happier, or put them
in better temper for the day, than to have her master
casually remark upon the taste of her mistress
in her dress, and her fine appearance. Indeed, he
soon learned to pay that small tax to good humour
and good feeling with pleasure, whether he really
thought Rescue particularly captivating in her new
garb, or not. On her part, Rescue appeared to
feel no subject of chagrin so acutely, as that she
was not of the complexion of her master and mistress.
When the labours and pleasures of the day
had ceased abroad, and they were enjoying the
bland and aromatic evening breeze in front of their
grotto, the tears sometimes fell from the eyes of
Rescue, as she handled the fair and glossy locks
of her mistress, and looked mournfully in her lovely
face. “Oh!” she said, “God make you handsome;”
and pointing to her master, “He good; but poor
Rescue bad, silly, black.” Tender assurances of
the regard and affection of both reassured her, and
drew from her the most affecting demonstrations of
love, and gratitude, and confidence. Though she
expressed herself easily in English, it was with a
peculiar and amusing accent, and an arch consciousness
of the difference of her way of speaking
from theirs, which gave her conversation the zest
of constant interest. Her ways of conceiving of
things were so novel, and so different from theirs,
that the development of her mind under their instruction
was a study to them. She made easy
and rapid progress in learning to read; when her
mind had expanded sufficiently to comprehend the
nature and bearing of this acquirement, it seemed
to increase her admiration of the powers of the
race, who had invented an art so astonishing to the
mind of a savage, as to make characters on paper
speak to the understanding and heart, almost to
the point of adoration.

Rescue began early to manifest no small degree
of penetration in discerning motive, and discovering
the lay of the land. When her duties placed her
alone with her master, her conversation generally
turned upon the beauty of her mistress; and when
with her, upon the goodness and wisdom of her
master, or his peculiar ways of showing unconscious
affection for his mistress; and she had an exceeding
shrewdness of interpretation, which could give the
most common looks and actions a plausive aspect
of love. Whenever the young and sly savagess
had been so fortunate as to gain the particular
good will of her mistress in this way, she was sure,
by way of compensation, to come forth the next
holiday morning—for they had their days of labour
and their holidays—robed and looped in one of
the new ornamented, new moulded, and cast gowns
of her mistress. Like the shades of the departed
in the faith of the Pythagoreans, the dresses of the
mistress regularly returned to earth, in a new form,
on the tall and powerful frame of Rescue. The
awkward delight, and the complacent consciousness
of vanity, manifested by a kind of ludicrous, tragicomic
gait of the buskin, however ridiculous to the
master, seemed all easy, natural, and graceful to
the mistress. Many were the long hours that the
mistress and the maid peaceably and happily occupied
all their thoughts in these important arrangements
for the transmigration of gowns and dresses.
Rescue learned still more readily to decide touching

becoming forms, and colours, and patterns, than to
read and write. Nor did her mistress ever adopt
or new model a dress for herself, without showing
Rescue the engravings in the magazine of fashion,
and taking her judgment in reference to the most
tasteful and beautiful among the varieties of costume
and figure that these engravings presented.
The master sometimes was internally grieved to
find the interest of these important occupations
constantly growing to such a degree, as to make
alarming inroads upon the pleasures of his intercourse
with his wife. When these grave matters
were in discussion, he soon perceived that he played
the wise and the amiable to very little purpose; and
that even his best conversations fell upon the ear
of his wife as interruptions. Rescue always had a
keen eye to the importance of this point, and to
perceive that if she stood well with the mistress,
she need have no fear of being well with the master.
To him the extravagant terms of commendation in
which Rescue praised the dress and personal beauty
of her mistress seemed affected and overstrained.
But when he so expressed himself in private to his
wife, she still saw, in this extravagance, no more
than the amiable enthusiasm of a simple character,
and an affectionate nature.

But, probably, casting their joys and sorrows
into a sum, it falls to the lot of few mortals to be
happier than was this family. Contrary to all that
he had heard said or sung upon the subject, and

contrary even to his own expectations, coloured as
they were by love, his affection for his wife became
more intense after marriage than before. Her
beauty grew on his imagination. Deportment
which before their union had clearly seemed to him
to be dictated by caprice, now only had the spice
and the zest of variety. He began to have very
clear and distinct perceptions upon the subject of
the origin of the different forms of government.
He learned to trace despotism and chains to other
causes than had generally been assigned by legislators
and political writers. He saw and felt the
mystery of a government kept up without guards
or heralds, or visible symbols of power, which held
in a durance so pleasant, that he even wished not
to shake off his chains. They, perhaps, conversed
upon some point of taste or opinion, or discussed
some project for adoption or rejection. It was often
his misfortune to think differently from his wife. Her
argument was always, or at least for the most part,
maintained in smiles, gently, and without pressing
it to extremes. He generally found himself, after
sleeping in deliberation, the next day in sentiment
with his wife. He would scarcely have remembered
that he had ever entertained another opinion, or
meditated another purpose, had not a certain
knowing smile of his wife, and the remark, “My
love, you thought differently yesterday,” reminded
him that she considered him a good and an obedient
subject.

Indeed, if he felt any standing cause for regret,
it was, to observe that his wife, whom he wished
always to contemplate as an angel in intellect and
heart, as she was in person, had brought to those
solitudes no small share of the tastes and habits
which she had fostered in other days, and another
order of things. It was not so much, that the
extreme and minute attention which she paid to her
dress and daily appearance occupied so great a
portion of her time, as to deprive him of much of
her society, though he painfully felt this privation,
as it was, that he could not endure to think, that a
woman so lovely should show such a want of conformity
to circumstances, and keeping, and intellectual
taste, as to bring to that solitude propensities
which were only excusable where every thing about
her was calculated, not only to inspire those tastes,
but to keep her in countenance in indulging them.
Had he been in society, indeed, he would not have
allowed another to embody in words his own feelings
in this case. He always ended these views by
concluding, that the most intelligent and self-disciplined
woman, as well as the most beautiful, had
fallen to his share. Never, probably, had mutual
affection been more constant and intense; and yet
the painful fact must stand recorded on these annals,
that the thermometer of connubial affection had
sensible variations. For the most part, the range
was so slight, as to afford a variety not very unpleasant.
Once or twice the sky was actually

overcast, and a real storm ensued. A narrative of
the causes and results is noted here, only that
others, who are sailing down the stream of matrimonial
life, may derive warning from their case.
These storms grew from a speck in the sky, not
larger than the prophet's harbinger.

The origin and history of the first was as follows.
The weather had been peculiarly delightful. For
some days he had felt himself afflicted with something
of that feeling of loneliness, dissatisfaction
with himself, and ennui, which inspired him with a
want, most sensibly felt, of the society of his wife.
A feeling, the direct reverse, seemed at the same
time to have possession of her. For many days
in succession, when he waited for her to go abroad
with him, and cheer his loneliness amidst the verdure
of the groves, she and Rescue were closeted,
and had evidently been laying their heads together
in conclave. Mysterious whispers and looks were
interchanged between them; and while he was
pining with the want of her companionship in his
walks, his sailing, or angling, she appeared all at
once to have found enjoyments which were more
than a compensation for the society of her husband.
In a tone, perhaps, more like complaint than he
ought to have adopted, he asked her when he should
once more have the only enjoyment that he could
possess, the pleasure of her society. With a grave
air, she answered, “All in good time, Arthur, you
shall know.” On the following Sabbath morning

the cabinet mystery was explained. His wife met
him at breakfast, in a splendid new dress, which,
she told him with great complacency, was a fashionable
morning dress. The gigantic Rescue, too,
was dizened as fine as a peacock. With a countenance,
in which the triumph of beauty and dress
visibly predominated over the effort to seem composed
and indifferent, she asked him what he
thought of her dress. In his delight at regaining
her society in his accustomed morning walk, and
entirely satisfied, as he was, with her appearance in
any dress; perhaps, too, thinking of something else
at the moment, or not aware of the importance
attached to the reply, and, it may be, inly displeased
that preparing this dress had deprived him of so
much of his wife's society; he answered carelessly,
that he thought it might have been a becoming dress
in London; but he now deemed, that a dress more
flowing, rural, and easy, gave her a better appearance
here. Her arm, which had been folded within
his, dropped. The tears started into her eyes, and
murmuring something about the misfortune of want
of taste, she left him, and took the arm of Rescue,
almost as fine as herself. The strongly marked
olive face of her maid, caught the expression of
the mistress; and, for the first time, her sad and
reproachful countenance charged her master with
cruelty and outrage. Farewell, for that day, to
verdure, and fragrance, and flowers, and communion
of the heart; and the satisfied declarations, “How
happy we have been this day!” with which their
evenings used to close. He could hardly forbear
thinking that even the pigeons and hares took part
with hiswife in her discontent. The disappointment
was the more bitter from the circumstance, that his
heart had beat high with the contrast of the pleasure
expected in this walk. However, they had
plenty of that solemn silence, that is supposed to be
so favourable to the proper meditations of the Sabbath.
This brown study, and this meditative silence
lasted four days, though it seemed to be not less
painful to the wife than the husband. On the fifth
day she appeared in her charming, flowing, and
graceful white shepherdess dress. Her beautiful
tresses flowed naturally, and her countenance beamed
with forgiveness and benignity. The happy husband's
heart danced in raptures; but discretion
interdicted him from availing himself of terms of
praise too strongly marked. He was aware that it
would involve unpleasant recollections. The next
day he ventured to praise the good taste of her
dress, and the fineness of her appearance in it, so
heartily, liberally, and sincerely, that the sweetest
expression of content and affection sat on her countenance,
and she declared that she had found all
the heart of her dear Arthur once more.

The next storm occurred about three weeks
afterwards, at dinner. A fine turtle was the dinner
that day. His wife had dictated a different mode of
cooking from the common. While she expatiated

learnedly upon gastronomic lore, and when and
where she had eaten turtle cooked in that improved
way, she asked her husband how he liked it. The
question came upon him before he had prepared an
answer, or meditated the consequences. He replied,
inadvertently, “Very well, but by no means so well
as in the customary way.” This drew from her a
defence of the new way more energetic than the
occasion appeared to demand. He remarked coolly
in reply, and still unwarned that a storm was gathering,
that it might be better to more refined tastes
than his; and that, though he thought it not so
good as usual, it was still very agreeable, and
answered well. By this time he saw the danger,
and stammered something else to conceal a retreat.
But it was too late; and the retreat was far enough
from being the fortunate one of the ten thousand.
All this expense of thought, labour, and science,
had been bestowed out of a desire to his particular
gratification; and his view of the thing not only
evidenced bad and vulgar taste, but ingratitude.
Drawing up her form in her chair, and arraying
her polished forehead in its sternest aspect, she got
up rather, it might seem, for Rescue's benefit than
his; for she directed her speech to her, a most
learned dissertation upon the manner of cooking
and managing a turtle, by the scientific corps of
cooks in her father's family. Then forth from
their groves stalked her great ancestors, generation
after generation; and the information followed,
that the best cookery had been a science of hereditary
descent in her paternal halls, for centuries.
She did not leave him to draw the palpable
inference, that it argued as much arrogance in
him to give an opinion in a matter of taste of
that sort, as it did want of acquaintance with
good cookery from the beginning. He replied,
perhaps a little tartly, that he did not eat for her
ancestors, but himself. This settled the point,
and she arose with the attitude of outraged dignity,
and withdrew.

These records will be wholly useless, if they do
not remind the reader, that ten thousand matrimonial
broils, which have embittered the existence
of the parties and their families; have originated
from causes as trifling as these. They prove,
too, that even in this abode, where there were but
three persons, two at least were not immaculate;
but that beings generally so affectionate and
happy, were sometimes a little ruffled, like the
rest. Probably, at the moment of her excitement,
had a third person intervened, and said a harsh
thing in confirmation of her feelings against her
husband, she would have turned upon the third
person, and bestowed upon him all the temper and
bitterness that had been originally directed towards
the former. He discovered, too, that these
storms, however appalling while they were passing
by, had the same effect upon the moral atmosphere
of the dwelling, that the terrible tropical

storm had upon the physical sky; that is to say,
to purify the air, and produce a more healthful and
delightful temperature afterwards. The sky that
followed, was delightful. After the storm had
wholly blown by, there was such kind, and
earnest, though silent and unnamed efforts to
atone for the past, by triple demonstrations of
love and kindness, that he sometimes asked himself,
if a few stormy days were not worth the
enduring, in order to procure the delightful
weather that followed. In fact, he more than
once repeated to himself the old Latin saw in his
grammar, which, rendered into English, imports,
that “the quarrels of lovers are the renewal of
love.”

When the simplicity and entireness of their
affection returned, how often did they declare to
each other, that if forewarned that sickness or
calamity must have befallen the one or the other,
each would have chosen it, in their own person,
rather than for the other. Each declared, not
in words only, but in look, manner, and action,
that in each other they possessed all the world.
They found the climate not only pleasant, but
salubrious. Their food was abundant, and all
their wants were satisfied with such a moderate
share of labour, as was only enough to mark the
hours of relaxation with pleasure. They had a
strong, kind, and faithful servant, whose gaiety,
good sense, and originality, were an unfailing

source of amusement. For beauty and freshness
of landscape, the scenery which surrounded them
was as that of Eden. They had all that nature and
love could supply. All this notwithstanding, they
were obliged to confess to each other, that they
wanted society. It would be a hopeless effort to
define all the circumstances that concurred to
create this want. They were obliged, amidst
the solitary enjoyment of their groves, to admit
how much men depend upon the common charities,
decencies, small comforts, and almost
invisibilities, and the influence of almost imperceptible
relations, for a considerable portion of
the sum of human enjoyment. Let no one underrate
the advantages of society, nor affect to decry
or undervalue that in which he dwells, and where
Providence has cast his lot. No position scarcely
can be imagined in existence, where the happiness
of man does not depend more on moral
causes and relations, than physical enjoyment.
Another circumstance, to which both looked forward
with a tenderness and anxiety which can be
only imagined in a situation like theirs, came in
to increase their sense of the want of the comforts
and the protection of society. When they were
discussing this subject one evening, and the
chances whether her father yet lived, and, if
living, the manner in which he would probably
receive them, a fine large ship hove in sight,
with her sails all spread to the breeze, and steering
across the southern verge of their horizon.
What a sight to these three isolated beings!
They could easily imagine the life, bustle, and
gaiety of that floating city, and the people on
board, so little aware of these solitary persons
so near them. They fired their swivel and their
small arms. They kindled a high blaze of fire.
They unfurled the flag of the Australasia. All
was equally unavailing to gain her notice. She
moved slowly on, like the imperceptible lapse of
time, across the southern limit of their horizon,
becoming first a white speck in the sky, and then
wholly disappearing. Augusta, seeing her husband
uncommonly gloomy in view of the disappointment,
embraced him with tears of undissembled
affection, declaring, that but for one
circumstance, she should prefer to renounce
society for ever.

Eleven months from the time of their marriage,
his wife presented him with a beautiful
Australasian daughter; the perfect pattern of
Augusta, as he thought; and the literal transcript
of him, as she said. Who will venture to
describe the anxiety of the husband while this
event was pending? Who will describe the
agony with which he walked the grotto, while it
was in question, whether his dear wife should
become a mother for the first time, or he left
doubly desolate and alone, by the prostration of
all his hopes, as a husband and a father? Happily

the penalty of Eve is paid with ease in the bland
climates of the tropics. The apprehensions and
the anxieties of the father, and the tranquil joys
which none but a mother, on such occasions,
can know, constituted this hour of jubilee and
rejoicing a new era in the history of the grotto.
Rescue, tall as she was before, became more
majestic, and larger than life, on this occasion.
She seemed intuitively to comprehend all the
official honours, and dignities, and immunities,
which the attending lady, on like occasions,
has a right to assume. There seemed to be
danger that she would devour the feeble little
stranger with kisses. When she handed it,
according to prescribed ceremony, in its first
dress, to the father, it was done with an air as if
she had much more sacred rights to it than the
father himself.

But if Augusta was beautiful and beloved
before, what was she now, in the interesting
paleness of maternity, and holding the cherished
babe to her bosom, to unlock for its nourishment,
the fountains of life? Oh! it is then only,
that they who are happily united, know all the
mysterious tenderness and sanctity of the connubial
tie. There was now a new, a tender, and
endless theme for conversation. How could
this dear babe be reared and educated in this
desolate island? Such is human nature. Scarcely
have we gratified the first and highest wish of

the human heart, before a new one discloses
itself. Augusta had a suitable respect for the
intellectual powers and scholarship of her husband;
but the babe was not yet two days old,
before she had started the inquiry, how it was to
be trained and educated. “Well as you are
qualified, my love,” she would say, “to instruct
our daughter in the solid branches of education,
there is much which the little angel could never
learn, except in society. How could she catch
the early graces of motion, deportment, dancing,
music, the million nameless graces and forms of
society, except by the tact of those who learn
them in the highest circles of polished life?” He
smiled, and asked in reply, where would be the
use of all this, if she were to have no spectators
or admirers, except kangaroos and parrots; and
have her beauty and accomplishments develope
and waste their sweetness on the desert air?
“Now, my dear Arthur,” she answered, “that
is not like you. Is she not the sweetest babe
that was ever seen? Would we not wish her as
accomplished as she is beautiful, if no other eyes
than our own were to behold her?” These dialogues
generally terminated by the endurance
by the poor little thing, that was the subject of
these premature disputes, of a most annoying
amount of kisses from father and mother; then to
pass into the tender, but brawny arms of Rescue.
Never was namby pamby like that of this affectionate
Australasian. It would make no mean
figure beside the birth day ode of the emperor
of Timbuctoo.

In a few days, Augusta was as well as before;
though there was an almost imperceptible languor,
that rendered her loveliness to him more touching
than ever. Her eyes, movements, and countenance,
all told that her heart was full. To the
powerful Rescue, half a dozen such babes would
only have been a plaything burden. During
their walks she was generally the bearer of this
lovely charge. Her attachment soon became
such to it, that she showed reluctance to relinquish
it, even to the father and mother. With this little
smiling thing in her arms, and the companion of
their walks, the hours of their existence flowed on,
apparently in a deeper and more mellow satisfaction
than ever. Every conversation placed
the privation of society, and of having no place
in which to rear this dear and cherished babe
amidst its advantages, in a stronger point of
light. They consulted Rescue touching the
chances of leaving the island by the help of her
people. Her eye kindled at the thought of
seeing her parents and her native home again.
She seemed to entertain no doubt, that they
who had been kind to her, and who had saved
her from her enemies, would not fail to be kindly
received by her people. They continued to
glean information from her upon this subject in

many conversations; and so eagerly did she enter
into the project of going on a journey to visit her
people, that they began once more to do her the
injustice to fear that she would attempt to escape
from them. They observed her, one evening,
on their return from a walk, looking gloomily
at the blue summits of the mountains above
them. They asked her, why she looked so
intensely in that direction. She answered, with
tears streaming down her cheeks, “Me tink me
see that big hill long time go. Me go round,
round, round. Me come back. Me sure me see
that hill fore now.” “Well, then,” said her
master, “if you were sure that by going over
those mountains you could get home, you would
go away and leave us!” She answered, with
mixed sorrow and indignation, “You no stand
me. Me love father, love mother. Me love
massa and little missee and big missee more
than all the world.”

This conversation led to a series of questions,
in her answers to which, it appeared, that the
faithful creature loved them better than any thing
in the world; but, that next to her love of them,
was her unquenchable affection for her parents,
her home, and her country. As has been remarked,
she represented her people as constantly
engaged in hostilities with the inhabitants of a
neighbouring island; which she had heard her
people say, was so great, as to have no end,

that is to say, they inferred that it was a continent;
probably the continent of New Holland.
She described the enemies of her people as being
cannibals; and her people as being comparatively
mild. When questioned continually and
closely upon the subject, she seemed to remember
many things which had not occurred to her
memory in her first vague conversations upon
the subject. She had imperfect recollections
that she had heard among her people, that they
knew where white people dwelt, and had been to
see and trade with them. The final impression
from all these conversations was, that Rescue's
people were gentle and affectionate in their character
and manners; and that some of the British
establishments in these seas could not be very
distant.

Then ensued long and tender discussions of
the comparative chances of happiness in society,
and in the abundance and repose of that charming
solitude. Sometimes at the close of the discussion,
one scale preponderated and sometimes
the other. In the melancholy supposition of the
death of her father without a will, Augusta would
be the sole heiress of his immense wealth. But
if he lived, as her husband thought probable, and
they should find him at New Holland, in the
event of their sailing there, through the aid of
Rescue's people, how would her proud and
aristocratic father receive her in her present condition?

Augusta always terminated these discussions
in one way. She was sure that when her
father saw her husband and her dear babe, he
could not but relent. “He will surely acknowledge
us,” she said: “suppose even the worst,
and that he should not,”—“Why then,” he replied,
“most probably, Augusta, you would
leave your husband and return to your father.”
She turned upon him a look of such affectionate
reproach, while the tears started in her eyes, as
left him no wish ever to repeat that charge. “I
hope,” she replied, “my dear Arthur, you do
not judge my heart by your own.” In fact, this
babe seemed to impose an insurmountable obligation
upon both, to encounter any chances, in
order to place it in reach of the advantages of
society. If Augusta's father lived, and would
receive them, they promised to share each others
prosperity. If he refused to receive them, they
still promised never to forsake each other, come
what changes or chances might. They finally
came to the determination, as the result of their
deliberations and convictions, to scale the mountains,
and to send Rescue in advance of them,
among her own people; and ascertain by her,
how the people would receive them. If these
people should be reported by Rescue, as willing
to receive them kindly, they hoped to be able to
induce them to undertake a voyage to the white
settlements. They were assured that if any such
existed in that vicinity, they must be those of
Port Jackson, Sidney Cove, or some of the
incipient settlements in New Holland.

Having taken their resolutions, the preparations
were few and easy; consisting only in laying
out their plan, and carrying with them food
enough to last over the mountains. Rescue
assured them, that bread-fruit and fish were
abundant in her country. Every thing that was
necessary and that would not much encumber
them was selected. As on their former attempt
at a voyage, they proposed to leave every thing
in a situation that they might return to it again,
if they failed in obtaining a kind reception from
the savages. If they reached New Holland,
they proposed to give the proper notice, that
those interested in the cargo of the Australasia,
might sail to the grotto, and regain whatever of
their property remained.

Their determinations being fixed, the next
thing was to carry them into effect as soon as
possible. Each feared that the other would relax
from the firmness of fixed purpose, and was
anxious to undertake the expedition at once.
Accordingly they prepared dried meat and fish
to last them five days, and as much bread-fruit
and sweet potatoes, as they could conveniently
carry, and three bottles of wine. He slung part
of the articles in a soldier's knapsack over his
shoulders, and Rescue weighed the remainder in

another over hers. In her arms she carried the
dear babe. He shouldered a single musket,
with the cartridge box, and his wife charged
herself only with a Bible. It would be useless
to attempt, because it would be impossible to
give any adequate idea of the feelings of the
parties, when they left this commodious, safe,
and pleasant retreat, which had sheltered them
more than three years. Nature, as if to soften
the bitterness of the parting, had involved the
earth in a thick fog. Had the morning been
bright and beautiful, the last look would have
been too painful, and they would have been too
strongly reminded of the auspices under which
they made their former attempt to leave the
island. As it was, every spot, every grove,
spring and copse, had been consecrated by some
remembrance, either of joy or sorrow. The
numerous, gay, and motley groups of domestic
birds and animals gathered round Augusta, with
their customary cries of recognition and welcome;
nor could she forbear to drop natural
tears, at the thought of leaving all these humble,
irrational friends to take care for themselves,
and return to the habits and the solitude of their
woods. Happily, our nature is so constituted,
that one strong sentiment triumphs over another.
The babe smiled in the arms of Rescue, and was
an object of so much more absorbing interest
than all the rest, as to soften the pain of parting.
They carried with them all that ought to occupy
their first affections. Grateful to the Almighty
for the food, shelter, repose and contentment,
that the island had yielded them; and remembering,
that still the palms would be as freshly
verdant, the flowers as fragrant, and the mountains
as blue in the upper regions, after they
should be gone as before; wishing then, that
if future mariners should be wrecked upon these
remote shores, they might find the same happy
shelter amid these shades, and imploring the
guidance and blessing of the Almighty in their
new enterprise—they turned and walked slowly
away.

As they began to ascend the mountains the
mists rolled away, and presented the same magnificent
and glorious view which they had been
accustomed to behold. Rescue sprang forward
from cliff to cliff, with the agility of a chamois
of the mountains. She still kept in advance of
the father and mother, often stopping to cool
the babe in the shade. The little babe, refreshed
by the mountain breeze, uttered its inarticulate
notes of joy, and evinced the same spirit which
makes the lamb bound with that fulness of life,
which it has no other way to express. They
made rapid progress; and by eleven in the morning
were on the table-rock, to repose there for a
moment, before they lost sight of the country
which had sheltered them so many years; and

began to descend the opposite side of the mountains.
Augusta looked down upon the landscape
below, and compared this departure to the beautiful
description of the leaving of paradise by our
first parents. Her voice almost failed through
excess of emotion. “Shall we find,” said she,
“a happier country?” “At least,” replied her
husband, “we are not separated exiles. We
carry all our heart with us. Like the birds, we
all go together. But let us not yield to a tenderness,
which may soften our hearts, and unnerve
us for our purposes.”

After a short rest, they began to descend towards
the unexplored valley. The smoking volcanos
were all around them. New configurations
of nature struck their eye, and new aspects of
the winding shore of the sea were spread in the
distance. As they were passing the last elevation,
and descending the declivity, on a sudden
Rescue gave the babe to its father, and began to
spring and caper as usual when much elated,
snapping her fingers, crying, “I see him! I see
him!” Pointing to smokes, which ascended far
down the vale, and the tears streaming down her
cheeks. “There home! There home! There
father and mother!” She continued to look with
a fixed and intense gaze, and tear continued to
roll behind tear, all the time they staid. It was
an affecting tribute of the heart to kindred,
country, and home; the most sacred and indelible

instincts in every rightly constituted heart;
nor could they fail to remark the truth and eloquence
of the apostle, where he has said, that
God hath made of one blood, all the nations that
dwell on the earth. It is a new tie to bind us to
our species, to realize that the human heart is
every where constituted in the same way.

The declivity of that side of the mountains was
found much more gentle than the other; and the
sun was declining, and the level of the vale was
yet far below them. As the sun was pouring his
flood of yellow radiance on the sea, and the trees,
and the mountains, they came upon a vast over-arching
rock. Dry grass was gathered in abundance.
Rescue spread it, and arranged it in the
form of couches; while the mother held, and
nursed her babe. Blankets were spread upon
the moss and grass, under the covert of the cliff.
The father struck a fire with his gun, and in a
few moments killed birds for their supper. A
bright fire blazed. A spring welled from the
declivity just by them, and fell over a rock with
a pleasant and bubbling murmur. The birds
sung sweetly the requiem of the parting day.
They supped plentifully and luxuriously, mutually
agreeing to see the future through the
colouring of hope; and returning thanks to God,
that he had so mercifully provided for them at
the commencement of their experiment. Neither
complained of fatigue. All were cheerful. Nothing

of sinister omen had occurred, and no train
of gloomy or disheartening ideas, was presented
to their minds. It was not exactly the commodious
and sumptuous place which the grotto
was; but it was clean, dry, and comfortable.
The babe lay on the bosom of the mother, and
the three slept through the night the profound
sleep of confidence and innocence.

With the first light of the morning, Rescue
prepared their breakfast, and they resumed their
descent. They now passed groves, the trees of
which were loaded with bread-fruit. There were
many new fruits in their way, whose qualities
and flavours Rescue taught them. They traversed,
alternately, beautiful little forests, and
then open meadows, dotted with circular clumps
of trees. Numerous limpid brooks wound round
the bases of the mountains, and could be traced
by their gentle brawling murmur, after they were
lost in the woods. From the declivities of the
mountains, the eye easily traced, as on a map,
the country below, as it was, inhabited or uninhabited.
They aimed to traverse the most uninhabited
part of the country, if possible to avoid
a meeting with the people, until they should arrive
at the home of Rescue. In their course,
they came upon the shore of a beautiful freshwater
lake, which appeared to extend a league
in circumference. It was a sheet of water, as
pellucid as air, in a deep basin of basaltic rock.

They made a pause under the shade of a spreading
palm that overhung the waters of this lake.
Bread-fruit was about them. They refreshed
themselves with that, and wine and water.
It was a spectacle of untiring interest and delight,
to look down the apparently bottomless
depths of these transparent waters, and see the
strange foliage, and bright verdure of the trees
inverted in the crystal element; and to remark
the thousands of fishes, of every form and hue,
of green, scarlet, and gold; some voluptuously
reposing in the sunbeams, some darting in pursuit
of their prey; and countless millions of the
little fry, swimming in shoals, and sporting in
the visible joys of their young existence. Beyond
this lake was a considerable eminence, and in
approaching it, they still crossed rivulets, winding
towards the lake. The moment they reached
the top of this eminence, Rescue fell to capering
and snapping her fingers, more vehemently than
ever. The tears again rolled down her cheeks;
and she was scarcely able to articulate the
words, Father's house! father's house! At the
same time she pointed them to a cluster of cabins,
half hid among the trees, from which, however,
the smoke could easily be seen, streaming aloft.
They seemed distant something more than a
league. They had difficulty in repressing the
purpose of the affectionate creature to run forward,
and show the dear babe to her parents.
They stopped here in the shade, to refresh themselves,
and concert their plans. With renewed
strength and confidence, they then pressed on,
until Rescue's paternal cabin could be distinctly
seen at the distance of half a mile. They paused
in the shelter of a deep thicket. He charged his
musket, and arranged his means of defence; intending,
in case of a hostile reception, to be
some rods in advance of his wife and babe. He
then gave his last directions and his parting exhortations
to Rescue. He told her, that he put
not only his own life, but, what was a thousand
times dearer, that of his wife and babe, into her
hands. If she should prove discreet, and faithful,
he assured her, that she would more than
repay all her obligations to them. She was
charged, in the first place, to ascertain exactly
what kind of reception she could promise for
them; and in the next place, if there was any
chance that they would carry them in their proas
to the settlements of the whites. When she was
favourably assured upon these points, she was to
bring back with her some of the chiefs of the
village. If there was the least doubt about the
manner of their reception, she was to conceal the
circumstance of their being in the vicinity. She
was to make this fact known by a certain cry,
concerted as a signal between them, and was
to make her way to rejoin them as soon as she
could do it without suspicion, and they were all
to march back to the grotto.

When they had given her these charges, and
she had made her solemn affirmation to each, she
was admonished, that they would naturally suffer
from impatience; and she was urged to make all
possible dispatch in her arrangements. She
seemed, after all, reluctant to part with the babe;
and earnestly entreated to be allowed to carry
it with her. The father, as she gave it into the
arms of its mother, charged her again, “Be
prudent—be faithful—we put our lives, and this
dear babe into your power; and we have entire
confidence in you.” The countenance of Rescue
manifested, that she felt the importance and
responsibility of her mission. She kissed the
babe, and, with an unexpected delicacy of tenderness,
the polished forehead of the mother. She
turned pale, as she passed the father, uttering, as
she passed, “You save my life—I die for you
too—You soon see if Rescue no good.”

After this kind and faithful being disappeared
from their view, considering the importance and
the uncertainty of her mission, and the impossibility
of making any calculations touching the
issue, they must be supposed to have been in a
state of suspense, as painful and as anxious as
can well be imagined. Augusta was more than
once disposed to upbraid herself for the folly of
having inspired her husband with the purpose

to commence such a hazardous and uncertain
enterprise, and to lament the folly of leaving
their pleasant and safe retreat on the other side
the mountains. But so long as a mother can
press her babe to her bosom, and can water its
cheek with the tear of maternal tenderness, she
is not without resource. The hour, however,
that elapsed between the departure of Rescue,
and their hearing the return of trampling feet
through the thicket, seemed as an age to them.
At length, they saw Rescue advancing, with an
eager and joyful countenance, accompanied by
an old savage man and woman, and a young
man, whose countenance instantly proclaimed
him her brother. She had been welcomed by
father, and mother, and brother, as one returned
from the dead; for they had seen her carried off
prisoner, and knew, but too well, the fate that
was reserved for her. The tears of filial love
and joy were on her cheeks. She had told them
what her deliverers had done for her; and had
trained them to entertain the most exalted conceptions
of them, and had given them so many
instructions in what way to deport themselves,
so as not to disgust or annoy their guests, that
they approached them with an awkward embarrassment,
and a respect bordering on veneration.
Their holding back was obviously the
result of good feelings towards them; and in
their whole manner they showed them, that they
had derived the most favourable impressions
from Rescue, and that they wished to receive
them with all possible marks of favour and
kindness.

Every thing showed that their interview with
their daughter had been a most tender and affecting
one. They often broke off their conversation
with their invited guests, to run to Rescue,
and renew their embraces. The amount of their
speech was, to invite the strangers to their village.
They promised that they would take them
in their grand war proa to the settlements of the
whites; to which, they affirmed, they could sail,
with a fair wind, in one day. They informed,
that between this island and the country of the
whites, was another island, inhabited by their
own people; and that between that island, and
the country of the whites there was but a narrow
strait. They pointed, with looks of aversion
and horror, in another direction, where a green
skirted shore was dimly discernible over the
water, and there, they gave them to understand,
was the country of their enemies. Every thing
in their words and manner, tended to inspire confidence;
and Rescue, who possessed quick tact
and discernment upon the manners and thoughts
of her people, assured her master and mistress,
that entire reliance might be placed upon their
proffers of aid and good will. They followed

the savages, Rescue leading the way, beside her
parents, with the babe in her arms.

It is unnecessary to repeat the minute description
which ensues in the journal, of the details of
their reception among the savages. Their stay
among them was too short to enable them to
record more of their domestic habits and modes,
than such as were obvious to the eye, in a
sojourn of one night. The manners even of a
savage people can be learned only by long and
intimate inspection. Nothing could be more
cordial than the reception which they gave their
guests. When they actually arrived among them,
no veneration could longer withhold them from
the expression of their feelings. They yelled,
danced, and shouted round them, with a frantic
joy, that blanched the cheek of Augusta, and
caused her to cling closely to her husband, and
press her babe with the spasmodic earnestness of
maternal apprehension. All this was discovered
by Rescue, and it went to her heart. She was
in the midst of them, endeavouring, in their own
language, to assuage the ferocity of these demonstrations.
But it was all in vain. The winds
might as easily have been controlled. They
pressed about their guests, examining their
clothes, and touching their hands, to ascertain,
as it seemed, the cause of the difference of complexion
between them. At length, with infinite

exertion, Rescue persuaded the crowd away from
them. A deliberation was held among the
leading men of the village, and they were
informed, that, as soon as might be, they would
conduct them in a proa to the neighbouring
island, and would persuade the people of that
island to transport them to the white settlements.
A hovel was cleared, in which they were invited
to pass the night; and they were promised, that
on the following morning, they would carry
them over to the adjacent island.

They passed, as may well be supposed, a most
uncomfortable night. They dared not refuse
the shelter of the offered hovel, though it was
small, dirty, and smoky, and every way uncomfortable,
tormented with the cries of the savages
through the night, and annoyed with insects and
vermin. Their food, too, was prepared in the
most filthy and disgusting manner; and yet, so
instructed by Rescue, they seemed to eat with
pleasure. To have refused the offered hospitality
would have been to incur mortal enmity. The
cool air of the morning refreshed them, as they
once more emerged from their filthy hovel, and,
preceded by a crowd of savages, advanced
towards the sea-shore. Still, as they advanced,
new crowds of savages gathered round them, raising
the same horrid yells, and uttering the same
annoying demonstrations of joy. They remarked
with pleasure, that their first friends every where

displayed the air of vehement and earnest protectors,
and still as the people crowded round
them, distressing them with the eagerness of
their curiosity, crying out that they were spirits,
beings of a higher order, and ought to be protected
by a taboo.

When they arrived at the sea-shore, there
seemed to be some hesitation about furnishing
them a proa and transport to the neighbouring
island. Noisy and fierce debate ensued. But
their first friends carried their point. They
were motioned to follow the chief men of the
sea-shore villages, to a large proa, or war
canoe. Another was brought along side. There
was a great flourish, a simultaneous yell, and a
pointing of their spears and war clubs, in token
of defiance, in the direction of the country occupied
by their enemies. Their armour was put
on board. A great number of warriors crowded
in. The sails were set. Augusta was pointed
to a bench, over which her husband spread a
blanket. Rescue sat down on the bottom of the
proa, holding the babe between her father and
mother, and looking intently in the face of her
mistress. She, meanwhile, it was evident from
the paleness of her countenance, felt the unpleasant
predicament of being surrounded by these
fierce and unmanageable beings, and was painfully
reminded of the auspices, under which she
had commenced the former attempted voyage of

escape. The sails filled, and they flew before
the breeze toward the island, distant, as it seemed,
three or four leagues, and enlarging every moment,
as their own island receded and diminished.

In less than two hours, they entered a little
harbour in the island, and landed. The island
had the aspect of being far more sterile than that
which they had left. It was in many places
bare of all vegetation, exposing a naked surface
of black volcanic rock. Here they encountered
another host of yelling savages, with the same
fierce and annoying curiosity. There now ensued
another debate between these islanders and the
people who had brought them there. Rescue
interpreted the amount of their discussion. The
character and wishes of their guests were explained
to them. On their part, they affirmed
that the white settlements were not far distant,
and that they were willing to take them there for
a proper compensation. This point was soon
arranged and stipulated to their satisfaction. They
who had brought the white strangers so far, were
now to leave them to the care of these islanders.
Now ensued a scene, which threatened more
danger than any they had yet encountered
among the savages. The parents and brother
of Rescue, as well as many people of her village,
were clamorous to have her return with them.
The struggle, too, in her own feelings, appeared

to amount almost to agony. On the one hand
was her country and her parents. On the other
her deliverers, who had raised her to the dignity,
thoughts, and joys of a new kind of existence.
She clearly inclined to following her deliverer.
He, on his part, was filled with apprehension,
that if the struggle in her thoughts should terminate
in favour of following them, it might not
only exasperate the savages to the point of
breaking off the treaty, but excite them to massacre
their guests. On the other, so dear had
she become to her deliverer, that the idea of her
leaving them was exceedingly painful. Beyond
all that they could have hoped, the savages left
Rescue a free choice, to make her own election.
Never had they witnessed a more afflicting
internal struggle. She wept, and wrung her
hands, and tore her hair, and sobbed, and embraced
her father, and mother, and brother,
again and again, as if in agony. Never was
keener distress visible upon any human countenance.
It was an affecting spectacle to see the
alternate preponderance of these opposite affections.
Augusta finally inclined the scale, by
handing her the little babe, which, terrified with
the grim countenances of the surrounding savages,
looked with the smile of infantine recognition in
her face. She seized the little thing, kissed it,
and watered its face with tears. “Me never
leave you!” she exclaimed, and the point was
manifestly settled. She once more embraced
her parents and friends, but with more calmness
and moderation than before, taking a leave of
them which promised to be eternal. Soon afterwards,
all her friends and the people of her village
returned in their proas. Their new friends
could not arrange their preparations in season
to commence their voyage that day, and they
were obliged to spend a night of discomfort
there, under endurances not unlike those of the
preceding evening, in a smoky hovel, and devoured
by vermin.

Again they were obliged to supply the wants
of nature as they might, with food so prepared
as to excite unconquerable loathing. But, instructed
by Rescue, they seemed satisfied, and
assumed as much appearance of eating with
appetite as they could. When they resumed
their voyage the next morning, the grief of Rescue
was renewed. She now felt, that she was
leaving her own people in good earnest, and for
ever. But if a momentary purpose of relenting
and returning to her own place passed over her
mind, it was but the purpose of a moment. She
wept, and tore her hair, and held out her arms
towards the island of her birth, now only dimly
visible in the distance. She uttered her own
farewell, in the energetic phrase of her own
country; took the babe in her arms, and entered
the proa, which waited for them, and in a

moment they were embarked again. The wind
was fair. The proa sailed swiftly. The savages
seemed to be perfectly tranquil in the expectation
of the issue of the voyage. No unpleasant
incident occurred to excite even apprehension.

By mid-day the proa rounded a projecting
headland, and to the astonishment and inexpressible
satisfaction of the parties, two or three
small vessels with their sails all spread, were
seen making towards a harbour. The savages
raised their yell of joy. The husband and wife
kissed their babe, and experienced sensations in
view of these palpable marks of approach towards
their own people, that no words could
adequately express. “There,” said the husband,
“are the vessels of your country—but how,
Augusta, shall we be received?” “My dear
Arthur,” she replied, “let us not in this joyful
moment, manifest such ingratitude to the Almighty,
as to distrust his merciful protection for
the future. While I can look on my husband,
and my babe, nothing beside shall disturb me.”

It was to no purpose that they strove to persuade
the savages to carry them directly to the
town. Though they were at peace with the
whites, they seemed apprehensive and shy, and
not at all disposed to come in direct contact with
them. They turned their proa to a point, and
landed. The stipulated compensation, consisting
of a musket, and divers other articles, which

they had brought from the grotto, was paid.
Their friends seemed entirely satisfied, and manifested
more feeling at parting from them than
could have been expected from beings of their
appearance.

Here, then, were the three forlorn beings, who
had so long been banished from social nature,
left alone on a rocky point, in full view of a
considerable town, which appeared in the distance,
arising among the tall dead trees. Now,
that the great crisis of meeting her own race
again was at hand, Augusta evidenced what she
suffered from the conflicting thoughts and views
that pressed on her. Her countenance was
alternately flushed, and pale as death. She was
soon to learn, whether she was an orphan; or if
her father lived, whether a man so rich and
aristocratic, would receive her as the wife of a
poor and obscure American. The contrast between
her present condition, a wife and a mother
under such circumstances; with her former lot,
a beautiful heiress, the pride of her circle, and
the chief object of admiration, could not but
press heavily upon her thoughts. The extinguished
pride, jealousies, hopes and fears of
society, and of other years, so long dormant in
the repose of the grotto, again arose to her own
astonishment and dismay, in her bosom. She
began anxiously to examine her person and
dress, and that of her husband; and to question

Rescue about her appearance. Happily for her
under such circumstances, the master passion of
maternal affection prevailed in her bosom. She
kissed and nursed her babe, and as the feeble
thing fell asleep on her bosom, these stormy
apprehensions gradually subsided.

They consulted together a few moments, and
took up their march for the town. At the distance
of half a mile, she and Rescue stopped
under a shady tree, and her husband went forward
to announce their arrival, and secure a
reception and lodgings for them. They mutually
inculcated calmness and philosophy; though
it must be admitted, that the harrowing excitement
in the countenance of his wife, was but a
poor preparative for imparting the necessary
firmness required on this emergency. He found
a much more prompt panoply, in summoning to
his aid that kind of desperation, with which a
soldier on a forlorn hope, repairs to the deadly
breach to enter a city by storm.

In a lane leading to the harbour, he met a
plain, respectable looking man, and making an
effort upon his palpitating heart, he addressed
him. But he perceived in a moment that his
excitement and agitation within were not only
painted upon his countenance, but impressed
upon his tones and his voice. The man paused,
and surveyed him from head to foot, without a
reply. Making another effort, he asked, “What

town is this, sir?” “Sidney Cove, sir,” was the
reply. “I would not have thought,” he continued,
“to have met any person here, speaking
English, who would have needed to be told the
name of this town.” Immediately he explained
to the stranger the causes of his ignorance, and
the circumstances of his case, inquiring, with an
anxiety that can only be imagined, if Mr. Wellman
were still living. Astonishment was marked
in the manner of the stranger. He answered,
that it was probable Mr. Wellman still lived,
though no longer in New Holland; that two
years since, upon the revolt of the soldiery, and
the breaking out of the troubles in the country,
he had become dissatisfied with it, and had
returned to England. He well remembered the
circumstances of the Australasia's shipwreck.
Mr. Wellman escaped, with ten others, in the
long boat, to an island, near which the ship was
wrecked. He was afterwards conducted to this
place by savages. His only daughter perished
in the shipwreck. He was at first pleased with
the country; but the commencement of the
troubles, and chagrin on account of the loss of
his daughter, conspired to disgust him, and two
years since he had embarked for England.

Such was the intelligence imparted by this
stranger. He made a few additional inquiries
touching the state of affairs in the country, and
heard the advice of the stranger, in regard to

the proper lodgings for him and his wife in the
town. With this intelligence he returned to
his wife. So dark and gloomy had been her
imaginings, and so different a picture had her
thoughts coloured during this distressing period
of suspense, that the real state of the case struck
her with delighted surprise. It is true, they were
destitute, pennyless, and, they learned from this
information, wholly friendless. But then, they
assured themselves that there could be no people,
especially no English people, so inhospitable as
not to afford an asylum to destitute strangers in
their condition. Assured that her father still
lived, and delivered from the terror of an immediate
meeting with him in her present condition,
she became not only composed, but cheerful
and gay. A temperament naturally buoyant
gave the future such an aspect in anticipation as
she wished to behold. She assured her husband,
that she had no doubt but upon the strength of
her father's name, they might obtain money
enough to answer the immediate necessities of
their condition. She considered herself as happily
restored to society; and as ordinarily happens
in such cases, her confidence and joy were
infused into the bosom of her husband.