ed church is not touched. The author of this epistle to Mr. Fox, advised the patriot to open a tabernacle in the confidence that,

"Proud of a Methodist like thee,

The vulgar shall not there resort;
But lords and dames of high degree,

The splendid sinners of a court."

After a whimsical description of the effects naturally resulting from the eloquence of the orator, his facetious friend proceeded to allot to each of the distinguished members of the coalition their respective departments in the new conventicle:

How spruce will North beneath thee sit!

With joy officiate as thy clerk:

Attune the hymn, renounce his wit,
And carol like the morning lark.

Or if thy potent length of pray'r,
By chance induce a kindly doze,
Wake in the nick, with accent clear,
"Amen!" and bless the close.

To cry

The destination of Sheridan was equally characteristic:

To comic Richard, ever true,

Be it assign'd the curs to lash;

With ready hand to ope the pew,

With ready hand to take the cash.

(To be continued.)

Thoughtful and reflecting men may conceive many a good notion and idea, during their occasional rides, which ought not always to be lost; I would call them equitations; Robert Stephens did not

"Whistle as he went for want of thought;"

but divided the chapters of the Bible into verses as he rode; and St. Ignatius wrote his Epistles in his journey from Ephesus to Rome. Blackwell's Sacred Classics, II. p. 233.

FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

CHARLOTTE CHRISTINA SOPHIA OF WOLFENBUTTLE.

CHARLOTTE Christina Sophia of Wolfenbuttle, wife of the czarowitz Alexis, son of Peter, the first czar of Muscovy, and sister-in-law of the emperor Charles VI, was born on the 25th of August, 1694. Against this princess, who was a woman of great beauty, virtue, and sprightliness, her husband, the most brutal of men, conceived an inveterate aversion. He attempted several times to poison her, but she always prevented the accomplishment of his villanous design by taking powerful antidotes.

His brutality was carried to such a length, that he one day gave her a violent kick when she was in that state which should have excited his utmost tenderness. She fell senseless on the floor, bathed in blood. Peter the first was then on his travels. His son, persuaded that his unhappy princess could not recover, immediately set out for his country seat.

The countess of Conismark, mother of marshal Saxe, attended this princess during the confinement which this outrage produced. She was delivered of a dead child, and the countess took every possible care of her; but as she foresaw that if she recovered, she would fall a sacrifice sooner or later to the ferocity of the czarowitz, she formed a plan to save her, by gaining over her female attendants, and afterwards informing the husband that his wife and child were both dead. When the czarowitz received this news, he sent word that they should both be interred immediately without any ceremony. Couriers were despatched to the czar, and the different courts of Europe appeared in mourning-for a block of wood, which was deposited in the earth instead of the princess.

The princess however being conveyed to a private apartment, soon recovered her health and strength. Having collected what jewels and money she could, with the assistance of the countess, she dressed herself like a woman of ordinary rank and accompanied by an old German domestic, in whom she could confide, and who passed for her father, she set out for Paris. Her stay there was very short; she hired a female servant to attend her, and embarked at one of the seaports of France for New Orleans.

Her figure soon attracted the attention of the inhabitants of that place, one of whom, an officer of the colony, named Dauband, who had been in Russia, knew her. He could, however, with difficulty be convinced, that a woman in her situation was the daughterin-law of the czar Peter. In order that he might be certain, he offered his services to the pretended father; a more intimate connexion was gradually formed; and they at length agreed to build a house at their common expense in which they resided together. The death of the czarowitz was announced in the colony some time after by the public papers. Dauband then told the princess that he knew her, and offered to abandon his connexions in Louisiana in order to conduct her to Russia.

The widow of the czarowitz finding herself, however, much happier than she had been when near the throne, refused to sacrifice the tranquillity of her obscure situation to any thing that ambition could offer. She only required from Dauband, the most inviolable secrecy; and that he would act with the same prudence and caution as he had done until that period. Dauband took a solemn oath that he would obey her orders with the most rigid attention, and his own interest was sufficient to engage him to keep his promise. The beauty, wit, and virtues of the princess had made the most lively impression on his heart, and the habit of living together, had given it additional force. He was amiable and still in the flower of youth; and as she had always till then supposed him ignorant of her rank and condition, his respectful attention had been so much the more flattering; on that account she had not been insensible to it. They continued, however, to live in their usual manner, but their mutual affection increased every day.

The old domestic, who passed for her father at length died. The princess and Dauband being both young, could no longer decently live together with the same familiarity as they did when authorized by the presence of a father. Dauband mentioned this to the princess, and embraced that opportunity to declare his passion, and to represent to her, that having once renounced every idea of grandeur, she might, if he was not disagreeable to her, accept him for her husband, and by these means, conceal much better her former condition. To this proposal she consented; and she, who had 3 4

VOL. III.

once been destined to reign over Russia, and whose sister reigned at Vienna became the wife of a plain officer of infantry. Their first year of union was cemented by the birth of a daughter, whom she nursed and educated herself; and to whom she taught the Gcrman and French languages.

Dauband and his wife had lived ten years in that happy mediocrity in which the reciprocal fondness of two hearts, supplies the want of wealth and riches, when the husband was attacked by disease. The wife alarmed at the dangers of an operation, wished that it might be performed at Paris. They sold their habitation, and embarked in the first vessel that was ready to sail. When they arrived at Paris, Dauband put himself under the care of an eminent surgeon. His spouse discharged every necessary duty with the tenderest affection, and never quitted him a moment until the cure was effected.

Being desirous of pursuing some course that might augment their little fortune, Dauband solicited employment from the East India company in the island of Bourbon, and obtained a major's commission.

Whilst the husband was engaged in settling his affairs, the wife sometimes went to take the air on the Thuilleries with her little daughter. As they were sitting one day upon a bench, conver sing in German, that they might not be understood by those who were near them, marshal Saxe happened to pass, and hearing two ladies speak his native language, he stopt short to look at them. The mother raising her eyes, and immediately casting them downwards as soon as she knew the marshal, discovered so much embarrassment, that he cried out, "What madam! is it possible?"-The wife of Dauband did not suffer him to proceed further; she rose up and taking him aside, confessed who she was, requested him to observe the most inviolable secrecy, to quit her at that time, and to call upon her at her lodgings, where she would inform him of every particular respecting her situation. The marshal went according to appointment the following morning. The princess related her adventures, and did not fail to inform the marshal what part his mother had in them. At the same time she entreated him not to reveal any part of them to the king, until she had concluded a negotiation then begun, and which would be finished in the course

of three months. The marshal promised to be silent; and from time to time visited her and her husband privately.

The period mentioned was nearly expired when the marshal going one morning to pay his visit to her as usual, was informed that she had departed a few days before with her husband, who had been appointed to a majority in the island of Bourbon.

The marshal immediately waited on the king, to acquaint him with every thing he knew respecting the princess. The king sent for the minister of the marine, and without letting him know the reason, ordered him to write to the governor of the island of Bourbon, to treat Mr. Dauband with the greatest attention and respect. His majesty at the same time despatched a letter to the queen of Hungary, with whom the French were then at war, and informed her of the situation of her aunt.

The queen thanked Lewis XV, and sent him a letter addressed to the princess, in which she invited her to come and reside near her, but upon this condition, that she should quit her husband and daughter, of whom the king would take care. The princess refused to accede to this proposal, and she remained with her husband till the year 1747, at which time he died. Her daughter having died also, the princess, who had nothing longer to detain her, returned to Paris, and lodged at the hotel de Perou. Her design was to retire to a convent; but the queen of Hungary offered her a pension of twenty thousand florins, if she would take up her residence at Brussels.

The writer of this account informs us, that he is ignorant whether she accepted the invitation; but about the year 1766, she lived at Vitri, a league from Paris, in a very retired situation, with three domestics, one of whom was a negro. She was there known by the name of madame De Moldac. It is not known who M. De Moldac was, nor at what time she married him; but in the year 1768, she was a widow, and appeared often on the public walks.

It is a custom to bind a thread on one's finger for the sake of remembering any thing-A very ancient practice; for we read, Deut. vi. 8. "And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes."