peaceful lakes which, but a short time since, were scarcely navigated by man, except to be skimmed by the light canoe of the savage, have all at once been ploughed by hostile ships. The vast silence that had reigned for ages on those mighty waters, was broken by the thunder of artillery, and the affrighted savage stared with amazement from his covert, at the sudden apparition of a sea fight amid the solitudes of the wilderness.

The peal of war has once sounded on that lake, but probably will never sound again. The last roar of cannonry that died along her shores, was the expiring note of British domination. Those vast internal seas will, perhaps, never again be the sepa rating space between contending nations; but will be embosomed within a mighty empire; and this victory, which decided their fate, will stand unrivalled and alone, deriving lustre and perpe tuity from its singleness.

In future times, when the shores of Erie shall hum with busy population; when towns and cities shall brighten where now ex tend the dark and tangled forest; when ports shall spread their arms, and lofty barks shall ride where now the canoe is fastened to the stake; when the present age shall have grown into venerable antiquity, and the mists of fable begin to gather round its history; then will the inhabitants of Canada look back to this battle we record, as one of the romantic achievements of the days of yore. It will stand first on the page of their local legends, and in the marvellous tales of the borders. The fisherman, as he loiters along the beach, will point to some half bu ried cannon, corroded with the rust of time, and will speak of ocean warriors that came from the shores of the Atlantic-while the boatman, as he trims his sail to the breeze, will chant in rude ditties the name of Perry-the early hero of Lake Erie.

For the Analectic Magazine.

OBITUARY.

❝ DIED on the eighth of October last, at the seat of John R. Livingston, Esq. Miss Julia Eliza Montgomery Livingston, daughter of Edward Livingston, Esq. of New Orleans, aged 19. One of the most lovely and accomplished young women of the age."

New-York Gazette.

To this brief, though comprehensive eulogium, all who were acquainted with the subject of it, must consider her as eminently entitled. Her many virtues and amiable qualities, while they render her loss more insupportable to her disconsolate relations, entitle her to a distinguished rank in the history of her sex. It is by holding up as a bright example, one so nearly approximating to perfection, that more effect is produced than by all the rules that can be written, to improve the female character. In her were seen, admirably harmonized, a combination of qualities apparently incompatible. To a deportment at once easy, affable, and engaging, she united a pride truly becoming, and an air of dignity, majestic and impressive. At times gay and animated, and participating in social mirth and innocent recreation, yet never losing for a moment a most perfect self-command, or in the smallest degree overstepping the bounds of that delicate decorum, which is one of the brightest gems in the character of woman. She was endued with a mind finely organized and highly cultivated; governed by a discriminating judgment, and embellished by a lively imagination. All her pursuits bespoke a classical refinement of taste, and an exquisite idea of the graceful and the beautiful. With these high claims to mental distinction, she possessed a diffidence truly feminine, free from all pedantry, shrinking from ostentatious display, and, indeed, requiring to be studied in order to be known. Her temper was VOL. II. 2D ED.

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uncommonly serene and equal, never agitated by passion, or ruffled by any harsh emotion; but breathing a spirit of gentle benevolence and sweet complacency. Tenderly alive to the happiness of her relatives and friends-kind and condescending to her inferiors-in all her words and in all her deeds, continually shone forth those amiable charities, and radiant virtues, that emanate from a pure and noble heart. "Nature, too, as if desirous that so bright a production of her skill should be set in the fairest light, had bestowed on her every bodily accomplishment." Her form was above the middle size, slender and fragile, but admirably proportioned-her every motion was grace personified, and her every action spoke the lady. A weak constitution, often the attendant on a superior mind, gave to her countenance an extreme delicacy, and an air touchingly interesting. Its beauty consisted, not in a monotonous symmetry, or unmeaning regularity of feature, but in a general expression of exquisite refinement, of high-wrought elegance, of sweet and tempered dignity, that conveyed an immediate idea of the rare and spotless soul that animated it. To see was to admire-to know was to esteem and love her; and the affection she once inspired was unchanging, for further intimacy did but develop new excellencies. We have never before known a character of either sex without alloy, or whose virtues were not in some degree eclipsed by the dark interposition of some blemish; but in the one now under contemplation we look for such blemish in vain. Indced, she appeared to be "the model of that perfect character which the poets are fond of delineating, rather as a fiction of the imagination than in the hope of ever seeing it really existing."

Thus rarely endowed by nature and accomplished by education; amiably virtuous, tenderly affectionate, modestly intelligent, and eminently beautiful; it was the hard lot of her rela tions to behold her, suddenly smitten by consumption, fading before their eyes, and sinking rapidly and irretrievably into the tomb. To be thus cut off in the bloom of youth and pride of

loveliness to be snatched from the world when every thing seemed within her reach that could render life desirable—is a fate, which, while we bow with reverence to the inscrutable designs of an allwise Providence, we must regard as peculiarly lamentable. The only consolation that can be offered to a fond father and a wide circle of afflicted relatives, is the confident hope, that her gentle spirit has left this world for an abode more congenial to its nature, and a society more worthy of its purity-the blest communion of kindred souls made perfect.

LUCRETIA.

SPIRIT OF MAGAZINES.

ANECDOTES OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.

[From his Memoirs by Mr. Northcote, recently published in England.]

"WHEN young Reynolds first came to London, he was sent by his master to make a purchase for him at a sale of pictures, and it being a collection of some consequence, the auction-room was uncommonly crowded. Reynolds was at the upper end of the room, near the auctioneer, when he perceived a considerable bustle at the farther end of the room, near the door, which he could not account for, and at first thought somebody had fainted, as the crowd and heat were so great. However, he soon heard the name of Mr. Pope, Mr. Pope,' whispered from every mouth; for it was Mr. Pope himself, who entered the room. Immediately every person drew back to make a free passage for the distinguished poet, and all those on each side held out their hands for him to touch as he passed; Reynolds, although not in the front row, put out his hand also, under the arm of the person who stood before him, and Pope took hold of his hand, as he likewise did to all as he passed. This was the only time that Reynolds ever saw that great poet."

"Whilst pursuing his studies at Rome, several other English artists were also there, particularly Mr. John Astley, who had been his fellow pupil in the school of Hudson, and of whom Reynolds used to say that Astley would rather run three miles to deliver his message by word of mouth than venture to write a note.

"It was a usual custom with the English painters at Rome to meet in the evenings for conversation, and frequently to make little excursions together in the country. On one of those occasions, on a summer afternoon, when the season was particularly hot, the whole company threw off their coats, as being an encumbrance to them, except poor Astley, who alone showed great reluctance to take off his. This seemed very unaccountable to his companions, when some jokes made on his singularity at last obliged him to take his coat off also. The mystery was then immediately explained; for it appeared that the hinder part of his waistcoat was made, by way of thriftiness, out of one of