One of the most striking features in the character of this excellent woman, was her active Christian benevolence. The "law of kindness" was ever on her lips, and the hand of kindness was ever ready to be lifted for the benefit of the afflicted and needy. And, even after her means of temporal support, in consequence of the death of her husband, were considerably reduced, and her own personal comfort had become essentially impaired by sickness and bereavement-she was still intent on doing good, according to her ability, and even beyond her ability, by contributing of her scanty means, to various objects of individual and publick charity. A portion, and by no means a small portion, of her income, seems to have been regularly devoted, for many years, to charitable purposes. Those who are acquainted with the scantiness of her pecuniary resources, and who know how frequently her liberality to others compelled her to abridge her personal comforts, will understand, in some measure, how to appreciate this feature in her character. Not content with doing what she could during her life, she made several bequests in her last will, which evinced that the principle of benevolence was strong even in death. She left $10 to the Female Missionary Society of Princeton; $10 to the Sabbath School Union; and $80 to the Theological Seminary at Princeton. It is surely a duty to honour the memory, and to imitate the example of such a woman. And though no proud mausoleum covers the spot in which her ashes repose, she will long, very long, retain a place in the recollection, and in the hearts of all the wise and the good who were honoured with her acquaintance. Happy would it be for themselves, and happy for society, if a greater number of the female sex, aspired to the intellectual culturethe rare conjugal and domestick excellence-the unremitting benevolence-the Christian intelligencethe ardent piety-and the exemplary publick spirit, which adorned the character of Margaret Thomson. PARAPHRASE ON PSALM CXXXVII. From the London Evangelical Magazine for August. We sat us down by Babel's streams, For they who wrought our matchless wrongs, To mock our tears desiring, Jerusalem? If e'er my heart May strength from this right arm depart, Forget thy ruin'd towers, If This right hand lose its powers! And may this palsied tongue refuse To speak the language given, grief for thee I would not choose Above all joys but heaven! Remember, Lord! how Edom's sons, The fall of Zion viewing, Rejoiced o'er thine afflicted ones, And scoff'd at our undoing: For "Raze it, raze it to the ground," Exclaim'd that hostile nation; "Let not one hated stone be found, Nor trace of its foundation." He comes, O Babel, doomed to fall! A voice of might obeying, Who shall rejoice our suff'rings all To thee and thine repaying! He comes, who thy maternal groans, Shall dash thine infants on the stones, Nor shrieks of anguish heeding, And joy to see them bleeding! H. E. Miscellaneous. FOR THE CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. (Continued from page 400.) The palace and the pleasure grounds of Blenheim are perhaps superior in beauty and attraction to any in the world. The verses by Southey, called the Battle of Blenheim, and which are the best of the Laureate's productions, were among the first lines that I committed to memory after my nursery hymns. This circumstance, connected with some historical events so vividly painted by Scott, in his Woodstock, rendered this place peculiarly interesting. The wall which surrounds the park and gardens is about 12 miles in extent. From Woodstock, which is built along part of the wall, you enter the park, through a triumphal arch, and a fine view of the palace, the monument, and the pleasure grounds open at once be fore you. The arch is a spacious gateway, built in the Corinthian style, by Sarah, the first Duchess of Marlborough, and bears a very fulsome inscription, which records her own and her husband's praise. After passing this gate, nothing, either in nature or art, can exceed the beauty and magnificence of the landscape. It was a novel view for me, to see a large tract of country so modelled and arranged, by the bold and masterly touches of art, as to present all that was fair, captivating, and sublime in nature. The venerable and vast palace, with its tall columns and lofty towers, limits the view in front. Before and near you there is a broad and deep valley, into which the arm of a mighty river appears to extend, with its bold and winding shores, connected together, opposite the middle of the palace, by a magnificent bridge-then swelling lawns of vivid green, with here and there clumps of gigantic trees, shady and solemn groves, of different shapes and hues, sometimes fill up the landscape, and sometimes skirt or bound remoter slopes. All this, and much more that might be told, forms an assemblage of beauty, which cannot be surpassed in rural scenery. In the language of Dr. Mavor, "all that can please, elevate, or astonish, display themselves at once; and the mind is at a loss to know to what source it is chiefly indebted for its pleasure, or rather, what is the predominant character of the objects that arrest its attention." Is it possible, thought I, that all this can be the work of art, or has this river been created, and have these lawns and hills been formed and clothed with woodland glades, for John Churchhill, proudly called His Grace the Duke of Marlborough? When a nobleman wishes to improve a rude and uncultivated estate, if there be any such now left in England, an accurate drawing of the whole, with all its disagreeable features and defects is first made, and then a series of sketches are drawn, showing what kind of alterations and embellishments the situation is capable of receiving. I shall not attempt to describe minutely the wonders of Blenheim. I stood and mused with delight on the spot where Chaucer lived. Different, but not less thrilling sensations were felt, when viewing the colossal statue of the Hero of Blenheim, on its column more than 150 feet high. While gazing at this obelisk, after reading a portion of the long, tedious, and fulsome inscriptions on its pedestal, I found myself whispering a portion of old Caspar's story of the Battle of Blenheim to his grand children. Great praise the Duke of Marlb'ro won, And every body praised the Duke, Inext paused for a moment at fair Rosamund's well, between which place and the great bridge a very good echo may be produced. I called Rosamunda's name several times, and the vocal nymph speedily returned for answer, O Munda, O Munda! This I considered as an exclamation of the beautiful, the unfortunate, and the criminal fair one herself, on the vain and unsatisfactory nature of the world and its pleasures. I also saw the place Where dying Wilmot caught religion's flame, And breathed contrition for a life of shame. But I must leave the park and enter the palace. Its interior is not so splendidly furnished as Eaton Hall, except in paintings and tapestry. Many of the paintings, particularly those of Rubens, were to me exceedingly disgusting Crouching Venuses, laughing Bacchantes, and angels of rich flesh and blood, I think abominable. The tapestry was new to me, and from its fine colouring and accurate delineations, I could not be lieve till I touched them that they were all needle-work. They represent the military exploits of the great Duke. The horses, men, &c. on the pieces, (and there are eight or ten different ones,) are as large as life. In one of the rooms I saw a small table of exquisite workmanship, and which once belonged to Marie Antoinette, the beautiful and unfortunate Queen of France. Burke's eloquent eulogy of her was brought to my mind, though I could not lament with him that the age of chivalry was gone, for I believe it one of the hap piest riddances that the world has ever witnessed. The ceiling of the entrance hall, which is about 70 feet high, and that of many of the other apartments, is finely painted with scenes of war and victory, all in praise of the first Duke. Sir John Thornhill, one of the artists, and famous in this way, must have passed the greater part of life lying upon his back; for this is the such pictures can be executed. only position, I suppose, in which The library is a grand room, about 184 feet long, and contains 17,000 ed. The chapel, which is last exvolumes, very handsomely arrangamined, contains a splendid monurelatives. Thus ended the pageant. ment to the Duke and some of his The paths of glory lead but to the grave." At the chapel door I paid my half crown-the usual fee on such occasions-to the crusty old housekeeper, who conducted me over the building. I cannot let her go without a slap. The surly pride and affected importance of the menials of His Grace of Marlborough are well known to most travellers, and one is apt to lose, before leaving the house, half the complacent feelings with which he may have entered it. Before leaving Blenheim Park, I ought to say a word or two of what is called the China Gallery. It stands on the left of the triumphal arch, just as you go in. We have here arranged on brass hooks, along the walls and on light frame work in the middle of the rooms, an immense quantity of porcelain ware, showing the various stages of improvement which the art of manufacturing china has under gone since its invention. Some of the pieces are thought to be more than 2,000 years old. The improvement in ornamenting, glazing, and baking many of the vessels, is not more remarkable than their differ ent forms or shapes. The various metamorphoses which the common tea-pot has assumed, cannot be outnumbered by old Proteus himself. Here was the high tea-pot and the low tea-pot; the tall, straight, and slender; and the short, globular, and thick; the round, the oblong, and the angular; the tea-pot with feet and without feet; the tea-pot with a long spout, a short spout, a middling spout, and no spout at all, but a mere nozzle like a waterpitcher. The handles and lids might also be described, but I forbear. A pair of small bottles, once the property of Queen Anne; and two pieces of jasper china, resembling shells, struck me as being beautiful. The whole of this vast and curious collection was presented, by the virtuoso who made it, to the present Duke, as an appendage to Blenheim. It would be wrong in me to quit this place without mentioning the only good thing which I have heard of the Marlboroughs. Just at the edge of the park, and close to the town of Woodstock, one of the Dutchesses has erected and endowed a small but neat asylum, for the retreat and support of poor widows. Not more than ten in number can be received at one time. About six o'clock in the afternoon, I got up on the outside of a coach, and in an hour found myself at Oxford. My luggage-for this is the name, as I should have mentioned before, given to a traveller's trunk, bag, cloak, &c.-being safely deposited at my room in the Angel, I procured a guide-book at one of the shops, and commenced an examination of this very interesting place. Hurried by my curiosity from one magnificent college to another, I found myself, after nine o'clock, wearied, in the dark, and at some distance from my lodgings. Of all that I have yet seen, Oxford, on the whole, is the most imposing. The antiquity, splendour, and classical history of its numerous colleges and halls; the academick groves along the river Isis, crowded with students in black gowns and square caps; its churches, with tall, graceful steeples, and painted windows; its libraries, statues, and monuments to the learned and the good-completely overcame me. Wednesday, June 3.-I had the pleasure of meeting at the Angel, this morning, some of my Philadelphia friends, who came over with me in the Algonquin, and who were now here with the same views as my own. We therefore examined some of the wonders of this place together. The Bodleian Library and Picture Gallery, under the same roof, occupy a number of very large, old, and shabby rooms. Libraries are things which excite but little interest to a traveller in haste, as the outside of books can only be inspected. No books are suffered to be taken out of this library by any one. That it is continually and rapidly increasing in size may well be supposed, as a copy of every work published in the country is claimed as a matter of right. Purchases and donations are also frequently made. There are many portraits of distinguished individuals suspended among the books, and among the rest, that of Sir Thomas Bodley, the munificent founder of the establishment. The picture gallery contains a number of articles highly interesting; none of them to me was more so, than the original portrait of Archbishop Cranmer, who was martyred on a spot visible from one of the windows. I stole away from my friends, and gazed for a moment by myself on the awful spot where this martyr expired. As the fire seemed burning before me, I could almost see him, voluntarily and fearlessly thrusting his hand into the flame, that he might himself destroy that which had once been the instrument of disgrace to his holy religion. An original portrait of Mary Queen of Scots, and from which most of the representations of that criminal and unfortunate woman are taken, is very fine. The Schools of Athens, might be examined for an hour with pleasure; but I must hasten from this place to the Radcliffe Li brary, which is a large circular building, ornamental even to the city of Oxford. Here books, statues, and paintings, alternately caught my wandering and wondering eyes: the superb room which contains these things is under a dome 80 feet from the floor. Here, in 1814, the present king George IV., the late Emperor of Russia, and more than 200 guests caroused. The street called High street, is truly magnificent in its buildings: here many of the finest colleges are located. Queen's College, which is in this street, nearly opposite my lodgings, is really magnificent; it forms a kind of oblong, 300 feet by 200; over the principal entrance there is a fine, open, ornamented cupola, in the middle of which is the statue of Queen Caroline: there are also a number of statues arranged along the pediments of the building in front, but I shall not attempt to describe any more of these famous structures. In all of those I examined, you enter by a large gate in the walls of the building, which opens into a hollow square or area, from which you pass to the different apartments. Some of these squares are quite pretty, being ornamented with shrubbery and neat gravel walks. There are 19 colleges and 5 halls, besides many churches and other splendid publick buildings. These, as you pass from one street to another, attract, and detain your attention for some time, by their ancient and magnificent style of architecture, by their painted windows, curious ornaments, lofty spires, and a thousand other costly and antique decorations.There are about 5000 students inOxford at this time; and excepting the square hat, they look, and behave, as far as I could judge, just as our students used to do at Princeton. There are guides, or men who will show you, for a fee, every thing worthy of notice here and not only in this case, but in all others of a similar nature, it is best to settle the amount to be paid beforehand. I regretted I very much, that we arrived the day after a fine lecture was given by one of my favourite poets, Professor Millman. About 12 o'clock I departed from Oxford with regret, knowing that I left behind me much that deserves notice, entirely neglected, or at least hastily seen; this, however, has been the case in all the places I have visited. As it was a fine day, I mounted on the outside of the coach, and enjoyed, during my whole ride to London, which was my next stopping place, a full view of a most interesting country. After leaving Oxford some miles, we ascended a hill, which is thought very high in this part of the world, and on the top of it, I had one of the finest prospects ever beheld; it certainly comes next to the view from the Pine Orchard, on our Catskill mountain. On some parts of the road I noticed a num ber of workmen, digging up the soil for flints, which they found in great abundance,and with which the road is repaired. We passed a number of small towns, and then came to Uxbridge, a place of some mag nitude. Here we met a number of vehicles, on their way to the Ascot Heath races, where his Majesty is expected to be present, as is usual with him; but neither he nor the races will take me to Ascot. In the neighbourhood of Uxbridge, once lived that glorious patriot, who, amidst the greatest dangers and temptations, braved even death itself in defence of his principles, and who has been immortalized by Gray in the following lines: Some village Hampden, that with daunt less breast, The little tyrant of his fields withstood. From Uxbridge to London, I was disappointed in not seeing it more thickly settled; till within two miles of the metropolis, you might have supposed yourself on the Frankford road, going to Philadelphia; but Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park being passed, you are soon involved in the busy hum of and horses. The idea of entering Lon men |