the carnal heart can invent!---O, it was this that sustained me in the hour of affliction, in the day of my captivity.

Five months having nearly passed since my seperation from my poor husband and his unfortunate companions, and at the moment of despairing of being ever redeemed from cruel bondage, I was one morning very early aroused from my slumbers by the hoarse voice of my master, commanding me to come forth; the summons I instantly obeyed; but my surprise may be better imagined than expressed when on reaching the door of my tent, I was presented by my master with a letter directed to me, and which I immediately recognized to be the hand writing of my husband! With my master was a stranger mounted on a mule, and although of a tawny complexion, had not otherwise the savage appearance of an Arab. As soon as I came within view of him, with a smile upon his countenance, he accosted me with “how de-do Christiano,” that he was the messenger of pleasing news, I did not doubt. I broke open the letter, and with emotions that I cannot describe, read as follows:--

“Mogadore ⚫ , Dec. 10, 1818.

My dear Eliza--

This will inform you that I am no longer a slave; by the blessings of God, I once more enjoy my liberty--I was brought to this place with three of my crew by the Arabs, a few days since, and, humanely redeemed out of their hands by our excel-