not immediately have answered the Earl's note in person, but he was, he said, so situated, that he could not possibly name an earlier time.-it might even exceed it however impatient he might feel at the delay.

"Not a word does he say," said the Earl, after perusing it, "of his impudent menial, but he shall be punished, if I have to order it to be done myself."

The time was spent most unhappily by both father and daughter. Frequently by written messages she begged, in the most humble manner, to be admitted to his presence, to which he first sent harsh refusals, and finally ceased to notice.

l'employing certain means of detection, which proved successful, I not only found that the forest was infested with brigands, but I succeeded in tracing them to their stronghold, and while concealed near by, heard them plan the robbery of the farm-house and Lady Edith's abduction."

The remainder of the day was spent in a manner agreeable and satisfactory to all, and before the Earl of Newberry's departure the following morning, Dame Landson found opportunity to apologize for not accommodating him, while ill of his wound, with the very best bed-room in the house. "But who could have thought," added she, "that a person no better dressed than your honor, could have been a great Earl."

He assured her that there was not the least occasion for her apology, and that he felt much indebted to her, as well as to her husband and daughter for their unremitting kindness and attention to him during his illness, and that in return, he would make every effort in his power to break up the haunt of the brigands; a promise which he faithfully and successfully performed.

How slight are the ravages which hardship, even privation can make upon the human frame, compared with those occasioned in the same space of time, by the sufferings of a sensitive heart. The day on which the Earl of Newberry arrived at the farm-house, Lady Edith was but the shadow of what she had been formerly. Her father, contrary to his usual affable and communicative humor, had not only forborne to intimate to her, but to Dame Landson, who would naturally have wished to put the best apartments in the best possible order for the reception of so distinguished a guest, that he expected the Earl to make him a visit. When Lady Edith received an unexpected summons from her father to meet him in the parlor, enfeebled as she was by mental suffering, she came near fainting. Bertha, who was with her, handed her a glass of water, which partially revived her, and fearful of offending her father by delay, in a few moments, with an agitated frame and downcast eyes, she again found herself in his presence. An exclamation from the young Earl, who rose at her entrance, caused her to look up. A vivid blush instantly suffused her pale cheeks, as involuntarily giving him her hand, she pro-June, and to revive the sweet memories of by-gone days, nounced the name of "Norman."

A few months from this time, the delighted Bertha was invited by Edith, now Countess of Newberry, to accompany her to town, where she had the good fortune to engage the affections of the Earl's steward, a young man in every respect, worthy of her regard. Every summer, the Earl and his lady spent a few months at the castle, where Bertha was gratified with a sight of the diamond cross and the ring with the sapphire heart; the lovetokens, which it may be remembered, were interchanged between Sir Ryan and the Lady Eleanor before his departure for Palestine. Nor did they ever forget to pay an annual visit to the farm-house in the bright month of

by often wandering to the nook in the greenwood, when

"What does this mean?" said the Earl of Roswell in the same flowers peeped forth from amid the moss and astonishment.

"That the humble Norman, who won your daughter's heart, and the Earl of Newberry are the same," replied his guest, "and, although he fears he may have done wrong, he hopes that the winner may be permitted to wear his prize."

"Certainly," said the Earl of Roswell, delighted at the unexpected turn the affair had taken, "but why did you not win her in your own character?"

"Although I fear the explanation I have to offer will not prove satisfactory, I will give it. Unknown to Lady Edith, as I have already informed you, I saw her several times, and became fascinated with her beauty. One day I said to a friend, 'should I offer her my hand do you think she would accept it?' 'Undoubtedly,' was the reply, what lady would think of refusing one of the richest nobles in the land?' Piqued at this answer, I determined to address her in the character of a humble lover, for I wished to be preferred for myself, not for my riches or rank."

"But how happened it," said the Earl of Roswell, "that you came so opportunely to the relief of the distressed inmates of the farm-house?"

"Your daughter," he replied, "mentioned to me a few circumstances that aroused my suspicion, and by

grass, as when they plighted to each other their faith,
The low chamber with its discolored wainscot and
clumsy beams, where the Earl lay while ill of his wound,
had the power of calling up a train of still holier and
more heart-thrilling recollections, and when the Earl of
Roswell ordered several of the apartments to be fitted up
in better style, that, by his daughter's request, was suf-
fered te remain without alteration.
Wolfboro', N. H.

MEN of splendid talents are gencrally too quick, too volatile, too adventurous, and too unstable to be much relied on; whereas, men of common abilities, in a regular, plodding routine of business, act with more regularity and greater certainty. Men of the best intellectual abilities are apt to strike off suddenly, like the tangent of a circle, and cannot be brought into their orbits by attraction or gravity-they often act with such eccentricity as to be lost in the vortex of their own reveries. Brilliant talents in general are like the ignes fatui; they excite wonder, but often mislead. They are not, how ever, without their use; like the fire from the flint, once produced, it may be converted, by solid thinking men, to very salutary and noble purposes.-Bulwer.

Original.

THE RESCUE;

AN INCIDENT OF THE REVOLUTION.

BY ROBERT HAMILTON.

one of his old and valued friends, to which he, with several other American officers, had been invited. It was seldom that he participated in festivity, more especially at that period when every moment was fraught with danger; nevertheless, in respect to an old acquaintance, backed by the solicitations of Ruby Rugsdale, the daughter of the host, he had consented to relax from the toils of military duty, and honor the party, for a few hours, with his presence.

After continuing his path, for some distance, along the

thickly with brushwood, tinged with a thousand dyes of departed summer-here and there a grey crag peeped out from the foliage, over which the green ivy and the scarlet woodbine hung in wreathy dalliance; at other places, the arms of the chestnut and mountain ash met in leafy fondness and cast a gloom deep almost as night. Suddenly a crashing among the branches was heard, and like a deer, a young Indian-girl bounded into the path, and stood full in his presence. He started back with

only fell upon her knee, placed her finger on her lips, and by a sign with her hand, forbade him to proceed.

"What seek you, my wild flower?" said the General. She started to her feet, drew a small tomahawk from her belt of wampum, and imitated the act of scalping an enemy-then again waving her hand as forbidding him to advance, she darted into the bushes, leaving him lost in amazement.

Ir was an autumnal evening-the forest had begun to don their mantles of gorgeous colors. The fields shorn of their harvest treasures, lay like golden lakelets in the rich and mellow sunset. The noble Highlands, like giant warriors, clothed in their panoply of rock and foli-river's side, he struck off into a narrow road, bordered age, threw their şullen shadows far out upon the bosom of the glorious Hudson, who, rolling on in his path of beauty, gleamed like a fallen rainbow in the innumerable tints of occidental glory. Far in the distance towered the venerable Cro'nest, begirt with a diadem of purple and gold. The first star was twinkling on the brow of twilight, deep dark clouds were encircling the zone of creation, rock and mountain, tree and shrub, hill, dale, valley and rivulet, all commingled in one hazy softness, rendering it a scene of indescribable loveliness, beau-surprise, laid his hand upon his sword-but the Indian tiful as in those days of primitive innocence, ere sin was known, or desolation and decay had fallen upon the blossoms of our earthly Eden. Such was the evening when a barge was seen to leave the promontory of West Point, in the neighborhood of which, we locate our narrative, in the year 1782. In it were several persons attired in the military costume of that period, who, with well-measured strokes of their oars, made it dart over the golden waters like a ray of light. In the stern was "There is danger," said he to himself, after a short seated a man of about fifty years of age, his head was pause, and recovering from his surprise. "That Inuncovered, and revealed to view a wide and capacious dian's manner betokens me no good, but my trust is in brow-his features were marked and masculine, his God; he has never yet deserted me," and resuming his mouth, which was peculiarly characterised by a close-path, he shortly reached the mansion of Rufus Rugsdale. ness of the lips, gave to him a look of determination, His appearance was the signal for joy among the yet which in no way impaired the mild and merciful party assembled, each of whom vied with the other to expression which reigned over his general aspect. Like do him honor. Although grave in council, and bold in the others in the boat, he wore a dark blue coat, with || war, yet in the bosom of domestic bliss, no one knew broad buff facings, closely buttoned to the throat, heavy, better how to render himself agreeable. The old were golden epaulets, bucksin smallclothes, high, military cheered by his consolatory words. The young, by his boots, with spurs of steel, while a belt of buff encircled mirthful manner, nor even in gallantry was he wanting, his waist, in which was fixed a straight sword. Such when it added to the virtuous spirit of the hour. The was the costume of the personage who was destined to protestations of friendship and welcome were warmly achieve the liberty of his country, and to burst the fet- tendered to him by the host. Fast and thickly the ters of oppression. Reader, need we say who it was? guests were assembling, the smile, the laugh, and the In "your mind's eye," does he not stand before you? Is mingling music, rose joyously around. The twilight was not his name the watchword of your independence, and fast merging into night, but a thousand lamps of sparkhis memory enshrined in the heart of every son of free- ling beauty gave a brilliancy of day to the scene-all dom? It was George Washington. was happiness-bright eyes and blooming faces were everywhere beaming, but alas! a serpent was lurking among the flowers.

As the barge gained the opposite bank, one of the rowers leaped ashore, and made it fast to the root of a willow which hung its broad thick branches over the river. The rest of the party then landed, and uncovering, saluted their commander, who respectfully returned their courtesy.

In the midst of the hilarity, the sound of a cannon burst suddenly upon the ear, startling the guests, and suspending the dance. Washington and the officers looked at each other with surprise, but their fears were "By ten o'clock you may expect me," said Washing-quickly dispelled by Rugsdale, assuring them it was only ton. "Be cautious-look well that you are not sur- a discharge of ordnance in honor of his distinguished prised. These are no times for trifling."

'Depend upon us," replied one of the party.

"I do," he responded, and bidding them farewell, departed along the bank of the river.

That evening a party was to be given at the house of

visitors. The joy of the moment was again resumed, but the gloom of suspicion had fallen upon the spirit of Washington, who now sat in moody silence apart from the happy throng.

A slight tap upon his shoulder at length roused him

from his abstraction, and looking up, he perceived the person of the Indian standing in the bosom of a myrtlebush close to his side.

"Never!" exclaimed the General. "We may be cut to pieces, but surrender we will not. Therefore, give way," and he waved his sword to the guard who stood with their muskets levelled as if ready to fire, should they attempt to escape. In an instant were their wea

Ha! again here!” he exclaimed with astonishment, but she motioned him to be silent, and kneeling at his feet, presented him with a bouquet of flowers. Wash-pons reversed, and dropping their masks, to the horror

ington received it, and was about to place it in his breast, when she grasped him firmly by the arm, and pointing to it, said in a whisper, “Snake! snake!" and the next moment mingled with the company, who appeared to recognize and welcome her as one well known and esteemed.

Washington regarded the bouquet with wonder; he saw nothing in it to excite his suspicion; her words and singular appearance had, however, sunk deeply into his heart, and looking closer upon the nosegay, to his surprise he saw a small piece of paper in the midst of the flowers. Hastily he drew it forth, and confounded and horror-stricken, read, "Beware! You are betrayed!" It was now apparent that he was within the den of the tiger, but to quit it abruptly, might only draw the consummation of treachery the speedier upon his head. He resolved, therefore, to disguise his feelings, and trust to that Power which had never forsaken him. The festivities were again renewed, but almost momentarily interrupted by a second sound of the cannon. The guests now began to regard each other with distrust, while many and moody were the glances cast upon Rugsdale, whose countenance began to show symptoms of uneasiness, while ever and anon he looked from the window out upon the broad green lawn which extended to the river's edge, as if in expectation of some one's arrival.

of Rugsdale, and the agreeable surprise of Washington, his own brave party whom he had left in charge of the barge, stood revealed before him.

"Seize that traitor!" exclaimed the commander "In ten minutes from this moment, let him be a spectacle between the heavens and the earth." The wife and

daughter clung to his knees in supplication, but an irrevocable oath had passed his lips, that never should treason again receive his forgiveness after that of the miscreant Arnold. "For my own life," he said, while the tears rolled down his noble countenance at the agony of the wife and daughter," for my own life, I heed not, but the liberty of my native land-the welfare of millions demand this sacrifice-for the sake of humanity, I pity him, but by my oath, and now in the presence of Heaven, swear I will not forgive him."

I

Like a thunderbolt fell these words upon the hearts of the wife and daughter. They sank lifeless into the arms of the domestics, and when they recovered to consciousness, Rugsdale had atoned for his treason by the sacri

fice of his life.

It appeared that the Indian-girl, who was an especial favorite, and domesticated in the family, had overheard the intention of Rugsdale, to betray the American General, and other valuable officers, that evening, into the hands of the British, for which purpose, they had been invited to "this feast of Judas." Hating, in her heart, the enemies of America, who had driven her tribe from their native forests, she resolved to frustrate the design, and consequently waylaid the steps of Washington as we have described, but failing in her noble purpose, she had then recourse to the party left in possession of the boat.

Scarcely had she imparted her information, and the shadows of the night closed around, when a company of British soldiers were discovered making their way rapidly towards the banks of the Hudson, within a short distance of the spot where the American party was waiting the return of their commander. Bold in the cause of liberty, and knowing that immediate action could alone preserve him, they rushed upon, and overpowered them,

"What can detain them?" he muttered to himself. "Can they have deceived me? Why answer they not the signal?" At that moment a bright flame rose from the river, illuminating, for a moment, the surrounding scenery, and showing a small boat, filled with persons, making rapidly towards the shore. "All's well," he continued; "in three minutes I shall be the possessor of a coronet, and the cause of the Republic be no more." Then gaily turning to Washington, he said, "Come, General, pledge me to the success of our arms." The eye of Rugsdale, at that moment, encountered the scrutinizing look of Washington, and sunk to the ground; his hand trembled violently-even to so great a degree as to partly spill the contents of the goblet. With difficulty he conveyed it to his lips, then retiring to the win-stripped them of their uniforms and arms, bound them dow, he waved his hand, which action was immediately responded to by a third sound of the cannon, at the same moment the English anthem of God save the King, burst in full volume upon the ear, and a band of men, attired in British uniform, with their faces hidden by masks, entered the apartment. The American officers drew their swords, but Washington, cool and collected, stood with his arms folded upon his breast, quietly remarking to them," Be calm, gentlemen, this is an honor we did not anticipate." Then turning to Rugsdale, said, "Speak, sir, what does this mean?"

"It means," replied the traitor, placing his hand upon the shoulder of Washington, "that you are my prisoner. In the name of King George, I arrest you'

hand and foot, placed them in their boat, and under charge of two of their companions, sent them to the American camp at West Point. Having disguised themselves in the habiliments of the enemy, they proceeded to the house of Rugsdale, where, at the appointed time and sign, made known to them by the Indian, they opportunely arrived to the relief of Washington, and

the confusion of the traitor.

Thus was the father of his country, by the interposition of Divine Providence, who, in his own words, “never deserted him," saved from captivity, and, but for which, America might to this day, have been pressed by the foot of oppression, and her children have bowed the knee to a foreign power

Original.

tibly a mile from the city, so that when we looked back SKETCHES IN THE WEST.-No. VI. from that distance, the town was seen rather beneath us,

BY THE AUTHOR OF LAFITTE,' 'CAPT. KYD,' ETC.

with the river flowing beyond, and far off the richly wooded forest and prairie scenery of Illinois. At the summit of this inclined plane, on turning from the prospect of the city and river behind, we looked forward and beheld before us for many miles, a beautiful woodland country, about equally covered with wood and patches of prairie, which appeared like cultivated fields of grass, meadows, and lawns. There were but few dwellings or fences visible. This summit is the commencement of the prairie, which extends for leagues west of Saint Louis. The whole prospect presented such an appearance as would be exhibited, if some fertile champaign in the most natural district of England, were at once divested of its villas, castles, cottages, hamlets, and villages, leav

LAST evening, the very gentlemanly and obliging landlord of the City Hotel, (by the by, the least said of the Saint Louis hotels the better,) came into our parlor and offered to drive us out in the morning with a very fine pair of horses. We accepted his polite offer, and at nine o'clock this morning his barouche and coalblacks were at the door, and in a few minutes we were whirled by a span of the fleetest horses I ever drove with, over the smooth Macadamised streets of Saint Louis; now wheeling round a pile of bricks, now skilfully clearing a heap of Macadamising rock, now running a hair line along the edge of a timber or a pile of plank.ing the scenery untouched in all its natural and artificial In a few minutes, we were beyond the bounds of the beauty. In the scenery about Saint Louis, one looks at corporation, and crossing a common, over no particular the natural objects in such a view; for a white cottage road, (for carriage tracks cross it in all directions) we in every little nook, for a gentleman's seat peeping entered upon the main road leading to the country west through the woods, or a village spire towering above the of Saint Louis. Two weeks ago, eighteen inches of trees. The prairies in the vicinity, during the last fifty snow fell here, and therefore we found the road, though years, have grown up with forests of dwarfs of oak of the dry and dusty enough, full of ruts and bogs, for no rain species called the black jack. When in foliage they are storms will injure roads so much as snow in a melting very beautiful, and greatly embellish a region, which, in state. Without saying anything further about the badness the early settlement of the country was nearly destitute of the roads, which, however, tested the excellency of our of trees. This generation of oaks is owing to the burnlandlord's driving, who says they are smooth as a bowling of the prairies, for the black jack, phoenix-like, ing alley in the summer, I will only discourse of our ride. always rises from the ashes of the grass. Later in the Our destination was the "Prairie House" four miles spring, these prairies are brilliant with richly dyed flowfrom town, in the vicinity of the race course, and a cele-ers; but at this early season, unfortunately, we can only brated resort for the gig-drivers, and beaux and belles of see nature in her plain and homely features, divested of Saint Louis. On the left, just on the skirts of the city, all embellishment. we passed the Saint Louis University, the most celebrated Catholic college in the United States. It is as I have before mentioned, under the charge of the order of Jesuits. Students are sent here from the West Indies, and South America, as well as from New Orleans, which city contributes annually a number of pupils. The course of education is thorough, and of a high order. The edifice is a three story brick structure, about one hundred feet long, surrounded by a fence, which also encloses a second brick building of more modern appearance, which is appropriated, I believe, as the chapel and recitation rooms. Several students were at the windows in their shirt sleeves, others seated in them smoking, some with books before them, others idly looking out and watching the fleet and spirited movements of our horses. The road now lay between fences, farms were on either side, and an extensive and picturesque view of fields, woods, and country seats, was stretched before us. The country had the appearance of English park-scenery, the surface slightly undulating, and dotted here and there with clumps and groves, but all, at this season, wearing their winter livery of grey.

The new, or dwelling-house part of Saint Louis, is growing over a beautiful plain a mile wide, which is gained from the river by a gradual (though in some places there are many steep streets,) ascent of about six hundred yards. This plain at its western extremity, begins to rise and continues to ascend almost impercep

About a mile from town, we passed three grave-yards near a wood, with a pond beside them. Beautiful transparent ponds, I would here observe, are picturesquely sprinkled all over the prairies, in just such points of the landscape as art would have placed them. A parallelogram of about ten acres lying along the road, equally divided into three parts, form the three cemeteries of the city,-viz., the Roman Catholic, Presbyterian and the Methodist. The Episcopalians and Unitarians probably are indebted to some of their churchly brethren for sepulture, as there appeared to be provision made for them. Of these three yards, the Methodist, with its neat white palings around its graves, was the least imposing, and the Catholic next so. A tolerable correct idea of the prevalence of either denomination in Saint Louis might be got from their graves; those of the Catholics twice outnumbering those of the Protestants, while the Methodist grave-yard is larger than the Presbyterian. In the latter, the graves were surrounded with white palings, as in the former. There were but two or three tombs, and but few head-stones in either. The Catholic cemetery is a desolate and straggling place, overgrown with coarse grass and brambles; the graves are many of them sunken, the tomb-stones fallen and broken, the wooden crosses decayed or leaning to one side, and an air of neglect, unusual in such cemeteries, reigned over the whole.

My curiosity was awakened by an interesting story,