it to be as interesting a place as we shall see on the coast, if the accounts of our friends in the other cruising vessels, many of whom have nearly completed their two years, are to be relied on.

Our run from Dande Point to the Congo river, which was the next place at which we made any stay, was enlivened by beautiful weather and fine breezes. We anchored one night at the trading post, Ambriz, but left early the next morning. At Ambriz, the English, Americans, French, Spaniards and Portuguese have trading factories, and a very large business is carried on with the natives in trading for ivory, gums, wax, copper ore, and other articles of African produce. As might be supposed, a strong spirit of opposition and competition exists between the different factories, and many are the artful dodges' practised by the white traders to circumvent each other and the natives. A story which I once heard at this place is so strongly illustrative of the go-ahead-ativeness of the Yankee character, that it will bear relating, although I will not vouch for its entire authenticity; it happened in connection with the article of copper ore, which was discoveaed to exist near here in large quantities, comparatively but a very short time since.

One morning a native brought to the American factory, tied up in a mat, what appeared to be some small fragments of stone, which he offered for sale. On examining these stones, the man in charge of the factory, inexperienced as he was in mineralogy, thought that he detected the presence of copper in them; and concealing his surprise from the native, he offered a small trade for them, which was eagerly accepted, as he had already offered them for sale at the other factories, and been laughed at for bringing pieces of stone for sale. Our Yankee friend fortunately had some acid amongst his 'traps,' with the help of which he soon found that he had not only obtained specimens of copper ore, but that they were so rich with the metal, that it would be well worth his while to make a shipment of it home, if a sufficient quantity could be obtained. Silently and cautiously he managed to collect a large amount of the ore, which he obtained at a merely nominal price from the ignorant natives, without his neighbors in the other factories having the slightest suspicion of what was going on; and on the arrival of a vessel belonging to the house of which he was the agent, he put on board of her nearly a hundred tons of the stones, ostensibly as ballast. In this way he contrived to ship several large lots of the ore, before any one at Ambriz suspected how he was getting to windward of them. The peculiar ballast which it appeared it was always necessary to ship in the American trading vessels, in such quantities, to ensure their safety, at last drew attention and remark from the heads of the other factories, and they were not long in finding out and availing themselves of the discovery of their enterprising neighbor; and as a natural consequence, the demand soon exceeding the supply, the competition became so great to obtain the ore, that the natives raised their prices so high that it now hardly pays freight to ship it in any quantity. It is hardly necessary to add that our Yankee copper-discoverer was raised' and brought up in Salem.

6

I shall have occasion to notice this copper ore and its source in a future sketch of Ambriz and the adjacent country; but our thoughts are full of nothing now but the great Congo, toward which we are dashing along

with a glorious breeze, and speculating on all the strange stories we have heard of that river. As we came out of Ambriz this morning with the wind quite light, we discovered a large turtle asleep on the water, and dispatched three of our Kroo-boys in their light canoe to capture him. They soon returned with him thoroughly waked up, and I doubt not wondering at the situation he found himself in, when his dreams were disturbed in such an off-hand manner. I have often wondered at the dexterity of these same Kroo-boys in taking these heavy sea-turtle. They steal alongside of them when sleeping on the water, and when near enough, overboard, head first, go a couple of the darkeys, and seizing the turtle on one side, capsize him in the water, in which position he is as harmless and helpless as he would be in a like situation on land; and the canoe coming up, the united efforts of the three, with a great deal of shouting, heave him into her and lay him on his back. They rarely fail; but I remember on one occasion that Tom Will, our head Krooman, tackled a huge fellow singly and alone; the turtle took him down, and he was so long under water that our fears for his safety began to be aroused; at last his woolly pate ppeared above the surface, and blowing the water from his nose and mouth, he sung out, 'Me hole him long time, Sar, but he too much 'trong, Sar―e'-yah e'-yah. MONTGOMERY D. PARKER, W. S. C.

CHILDHOOD

AND MANHOOD.

TO FREDERICK W. SHELTON.

WHY are the scenes which we loved in our childhood
Dearer when age sets its seal on the heart?
Scenes where we wander'd in valley and wildwood,
Thoughtless of evil and guileless of art.

The scenes are unchanged: a calm rolling river,
Nature repeats but the tale she has told,
And we should see her and love her for ever
Fondly, if hearts were not wither'd and cold.

I weep when I know 't is hearts disenchanted
By evil conceits, that tarnish the gold
Which gilded each spot where fairy feet haunted
Valley and wildwood, the mountain and wold,
When wond'ring and fresh in feelings and fancies,
Glory was sunshine and beauty was bloom,
And Innocence played in the light of Love's glances,
Fearless of death, or the turf of the tomb.

The birds sing sweet as they sang in life's morning,
Meadows are green, and the brooks are as clear;
The flowers as fragrant, earth's bosom adorning,
Zephyrs as balmy and soft to the ear:
Dear NATURE remains the same as in childhood,
Only the heart is grown withered and sere,
And never again will valley and wildwood
Golden and fresh as in childhood appear.

C. D. STUART.

ONE round whose brow Life's morning beam is throwing
Its radiant halo, stands with doubtful air
Where parts the road whereon he hath been going-
On either hand a mighty thoroughfare.

The sides of one with lofty trees are shaded,
Whose grateful coolness lures the traveller on,
While underneath, in rich luxuriance braided,
Are flowers as fair as e'er were gazed upon.

There, flecked with sun-light, are fresh fountains springing,
Scattering around their globes of crystal sheen;
And birds of rainbow plumage there are ringing
Loud carollings amid the foliage green.

And midst the flowers stroll groups of joyous maidens,
Singing old songs with voices sweet and clear;
While, like some angel-hymn, the far-off cadence
Falls on the trancéd youth's enraptured ear.

Some with white arms, and long, luxuriant tresses,
Like sunlight-drenched clouds, and azure eyes
Upturned to heaven; and some with wildernesses
Of locks of jetty darkness, like the skies

Of a black starless midnight, beckon to him,

That lonely youth, with the thought-clouded brow;

And strains of festive music sweetly woo him

To tread the path where constant pleasures grow.

He turns unto the other: bleak and arid

It stretches onward o'er a desert plain; By no refreshing shades its course is varied,

No voices sweet, no songster's warbled strain.

But far away, in the dim distance rearing
Their skiey peaks into the upper air,

Are tower-crowned mountain heights, of aspect cheering,
Bathed in the fervid sun-light's noon-day glare.

Oh, cold, and dim, and desolate, and dreary,
Appears the way unto those summits bright;
And those who walk therein wax wan and weary,
And many faint in toiling up the height.

But then the wise and good of by-gone ages,

With crowns of gold and garments star-enwrought,
Those who still live in Earth's immortal pages,
Abide, the calm-browed, god-like kings of Thought.

Yet dwell not there Fame's crownéd darlings only,
But many more whose names on earth are dark;'
Those who have walked the earth obscure and lonely,
But in whose bosoms glowed a heavenly spark:

Those who have striven Life's load of ills to lighten,
And humbly labored in Truth's glorious cause;
Who deemed it were enough, could they but brighten
Man's path, without the meed of vain applause:

Those who have toiled in patience unrewarded,

Who from low joys to raise mankind have tried;
And though unknown to Fame, and unrewarded,
Have not less nobly lived and greatly died.

Such are the different roads his steps inviting:
Shall he to tread that hero-path refuse?

Can he resist those voices, soul-delighting?

Which shall the wavering youth, O reader! choose!

THE BATTLE OF BUSHY RUN.

BY FRANCIS PARKMAN, JR.*

THE miserable multitude were soon threatened with famine, and gathered in crowds around the tents of Bouquet, soliciting relief, which he was too humane to refuse. In the mean time, the march of the little army had been delayed beyond expectation, since, from the terror and flight of the inhabitants, it was almost impossible to collect upon the frontier the necessary horses, wagons, and provision. Recourse was had to the settlements farther eastward; and, after the lapse of eighteen days, every obstacle being now overcome, Bouquet broke up his camp, and set forth on his dubious enterprise. As the troops, with their heavy convoy, defiled through the street of Carlisle, the people crowded to look on, not with the idle curiosity of rustics, gazing on an unwonted military spectacle, but with the anxious hearts of men whose all was at stake on the issue of the expedition. The haggard looks and thin frames of these worn-out veterans filled them with blackest forebodings; nor were these diminished when they beheld sixty invalid soldiers, who, unable to walk, were borne forward in wagons to furnish a feeble reënforcement to the small garrisons along the route. The desponding spectators watched the last gleam of the bayonets, as the rear-guard entered the woods, and then returned to their hovels, prepared for tidings of defeat, and ready, on the first news of the disaster, to desert the country, and fly beyond the Susquehanna.

In truth, the adventure wonld have seemed desperate to any but the manliest heart. In front lay a vast wilderness, terrible alike from its own stern features and the ferocious enemy who haunted its recesses. Among these forests lay the bones of Braddock and the hundreds who fell with

*THE unpublished work whence this spirited and most graphically-described sketch is taken, is the History of the Conspiracy of PONTIAC,' of whose attractions an arant-courier was presented in the Literary Notices' department of our last number. The volume will appear late in the autumn.

ED. KNICKERBOCKER.

him. The number of the slain on that bloody day exceeded the whole force of Bouquet, while the strength of the assailants was far inferior to that of the swarms who now infested the woods. Except a few rangers, whom Bouquet had gathered on the frontier, the troops were utterly unused to the forest service; a service, the terrors, hardships, and vicissitudes of which seldom find a parallel in the warfare of civilized nations. Fully appreciating the courage of the frontiersmen, their excellence as marksmen, and their knowledge of the woods, Bouquet had endeavored to engage a body of them to accompany the expedition; but they preferred to remain for the immediate defence of their families and friends, rather than embark in a distant and doubtful adventure. The results involved in the enterprise were altogether disproportioned to the small numbers engaged in it; and it was happy, not only for the troops, but also for the colonies, that the officer in command presented, in every respect, a marked contrast to his perverse and wrong-headed predecessor Braddock.

Henry Bouquet was by birth a Swiss, of the canton of Berne. His military life began while he was yet a boy. He held a commission in the army of the King of Sardinia; but when the war between France and England broke out, in 1755, he was engaged in the service of the States of Holland. At this time, a plan was formed, under the auspices of the Duke of Cumberland, to organize a corps to serve in the provinces, and to be called the Royal Americans. The commissions were to be given to foreigners, as well as to Englishmen and provincials, while the ranks were to be filled chiefly from the German emigrants in Pennsylvania and other provinces. Bouquet was induced to accept the commission of lieutenantcolonel in this regiment; and his services soon proved of the utmost value, since his military talents and personal character were alike fitted to command respect and confidence. His person was fine, his bearing composed and dignified. In the provinces, and especially in Pennsylvania, he was held in the highest esteem. He was a master of the English language, writing in a style of great purity; and though enthusiastic in the study of his profession, his tastes led him to frequent the society of men of science and literature. As a soldier, he was distinguished by great activity, an unshaken courage, and an unfailing fertility of resource; while to these qualities he added a power of adaptation which had been lamentably wanting in some of the English officers who preceded him. He had acquired a practical knowledge of Indian warfare, and it is said that, in the course of the hazardous partisan service in which he was often engaged, when it was necessary to penetrate dark defiles and narrow passes, he was sometimes known to advance before his men, armed with a rifle, and acting the part of a scout.

The route of the army lay along the beautiful Cumberland Valley. Passing here and there a few scattered cabins, deserted or burnt to the ground, they reached the hamlet of Shippensburg, somewhat more than twenty miles from their point of departure. Here, as at Carlisle, was congregated a starving multitude, who had fled from the knife and the tomahawk.

By the last advices from the westward, it appeared that Fort Ligonier, situated beyond the Alleghanies, was in imminent danger of falling into