blue silk became, in his hands, mysteries never to Charlotte Burnley recovered from her illness an be unravelled; but Mrs. Latour did not observe altered woman. Thenceforward she was noted for his industry, nor its results. Then Mr. Thetford, the strength of her principles, and her love of truth. raising his eyes, perceived the charming colour Time bore away with it any lingering attachment which something or other had heightened on her for Thetford which could give her pain; and upon cheek, took heart, and opened an apology of which the death of her aunt, which happened a year after nothing better can be said, than that, to Mrs. La- the marriage of Mrs. Latour, Mr. Reynolds, who tour, neither its beginning, middle, nor conclusion had no near relations, and who, having made his conveyed any particular idea, other than that of own fortune, had conceived the idea that he had a Mr. Thetford's astonishing confusion. At last, in right to dispose of it, adopted Charlotte, and made spite of herself, she could not choose but smile, her mistress of his house, which he thereupon fitted and then Mr. Thetford was more embarrassed than up with considerable elegance. The old man beever. He was for a moment silent. came devoted to her; and when, a year or two afterwards, a gentleman, of whom he entirely approved, applied for his consent to his marriage with Miss Burnley, he would only accord that sanction, upon the condition that they should never leave him whilst he lived. The needful promise being given, the marriage was solemnized amidst much festivity; and the happy pair, at this time, reside under the roof and guardianship of good Mr. Reynolds.

"You smile, Mrs. Latour," he said at last, "and I do not wonder at it. I am a sad simpleton today, but it is because I have been in the wrong. I ought not to have listened to those odiousMiss Burnley tells me you know all-I ought to have repelled them with contempt, at first, I confess, and I am come to make you a hearty apology for it but in extenuation of my misdeeds I may be permitted to say"

Now precisely because he was permitted to say the rest, and because he ventured under permission, to talk on for several hours together-which was being too prolix for the taste of the reader

BY PAUL GRANALD.

A Mock-bird sat upon a tree,
Singing most melodiously;
But not a single tone

T. H. E.

from these very facts, I resolve not to repeat what THE MOCK-BIRD AND THE SPARROW. he said, or what Mrs. Latour replied. The answer made could not, however, have been extremely unforgiving, since Mr. Thetford lingered at her house until almost dinner time, and in the evening came again, with his stanhope and dashing bays, to beg her participation of his drive. It is also to be presumed that they continued upon tolerable terms, inasmuch as during May and June, these evening drives were frequently repeated, and inasmuch as Mr. Thetford was, at all other times, either in her company, or devising means so to be, or studying ways to make himself, being therein, agreeable. That he succeeded in the last attempt, we likewise have some proof. In the month of October thereafter next ensuing, we received a letter from a familiar correspondent in and

we leave it to the sagacity of our reader, after his perusal of the following paragraph from it, to decide whether our friend was a gentleman or a lady:

"Mrs. Latour is married at last to Mr. Thetford. Did you expect it? Are you not surprised? Well! married she is, and they are gone to spend a fortninght at his father's grand estate somewhere or other. The bridesmaids were Emily Bentham, and Mr. Thetford's sister, Miss Mary-she is no beauty, but she dresses immensely. You know the Thetford's are as rich as cream, and Mrs. Latour's Mr. Thetford, richer than any of them. I hope they will be happy, for I always loved Mrs. Latour, she was always so kind to every body, and had such a sweet taste in dress."

It is impossible not to approve of affection founded

on esteem.

Of all his rich and varied notes,
(The warbling of a thousand throats,)
Could claim he, as his own;
For ev'ry bird that flies the air,
Might, sure, have heard its music there.
One time, in accents loud and clear,
He hails the haughty Chanticleer,
And thinks himself most learn'd and knowing
When he sets the world a'crowing.
But soon he'd change, in vengeful spite,
And warn him of the coming Kite,
Or tell him, quick, to run and stoop,
To 'scape the Falcon's darting swoop.
This done, the shifting, changing fellow,
Would call in tones, soft, low and mellow,
And bring some love-sick bird a'near
To meet his am'rous feather'd dear;
And when his wayward end he gains,
He greets him with a rival's strains!

A Sparrow hears this din and clatter,
And wings his way to see the matter,
And why this wild and fickle chant:
The Mock-bird meets him with a taunt:-

"Most beauteous Bird, I bow to thee,

Thou of the gorgeous tinted feather;
Upon my soul, I seldom see

One dress'd so well in this bad weather;
You'll see my wife, you must not fail her,
And tell us, Bird-say, who's your tailor!
You sing no doubt, your voice is fine
And far excels each tone of mine;

To hear it, faith, I'll act beseecher,

I could not wish a better teacher;
Ring out! my little fellow, ring,

Why bless me! Bird, why don't you sing?"

The Sparrow cock'd a knowing eye,
And made him this most tart reply-
"You steal from all, and call it wit,
But I prefer my simple twit."

MORAL.

My tale a moral hath, I do not doubt,

Let him who steals the most, try make it out.

EXTRACTS

[Continued.]

I would as soon attempt, with unhallowed lips, to inculcate the sublime truths of the Gospel, as, with ungifted pen, undertake to describe that magnificent and unrivalled scene. Standing on the very crest of the mountain, as the eye gathered in objects distant and more distant still, the sensation of awe at first experienced, increased, until the mind was overwhelmed with a sense of utter insignificance.

I have seen, and yet hope to scale, the Peak of Teneriffe. The summit of Mont Blanc comes within the scope of my contemplated wanderings; and with the help of God, I trust to look into, if I cannot explore, the craters of Vesuvius and Ætna: but I never expect to behold a scene more grand

FROM THE JOURNAL OF AN AMERICAN NAVAL OFFICER. and impressive than this, which I have long panted to view, and now sigh that I must relinquish. In the short breathing space allowed between that the senses are steeped in forgetfulness, and Usually great fatigue induces sleep so profound, the termination of one cruise and the commence-the mind becomes as inert as the body. The exment of another, I was induced to visit a distant citement consequent upon the scene I had beheld, friend. Traversing the narrow but fertile tract of kept me awake long after I had retired to rest; and Western Maryland, I found myself on the evening the following singular dream will show that the of the fourth day, seated beside the driver of a imaginative faculties were kept in full play, long rickety stage coach, which was dragged at a snail's after the will had ceased to control them: pace up the Alleghany. Anxious to reach the summit before sunset, the road seemed to me in- of the mountain, with two of my fellow-passenI dreamed that I again stood upon the summit terminable. Even the phlegmatic driver caught|gers-an aged man, and his young grand-child. at last a spark of my enthusiasm; and while he humanely withheld the lash, cheered his jaded team to renewed exertion. Heedless of the beetling cliff on one side, and the yawning precipice on the other, I thought only of the crowning point, whence could be viewed that scene of which I had heard so frequently and so much.

That the deep silence was broken by the child saying" Grandfather, what are you crying for?"

"I think, my child, of the day of judgment, and the doom that may await us all!"

Suddenly the wind was hushed, and a voice from the still air above was heard, saying,

"It is come! Lo! the ocean of Time bringeth

It has been remarked that high-wrought expec-its generations to the footstool of the Redeemer!" tations are almost invariably disappointed,-and that such disappointment is usually in proportion to the eagerness of the anticipation. Such may be the case where the artificial efforts of man are concerned; but where is the mind to conceive the sublimity of the works of God?

From the summit I gazed in silence. The first sensation was one of indescribable awe. The first idea, that a mighty sea, arrested in its throes, lay

before me

Wave upon wave! as if a boundless ocean,

By boisterous winds to fierce rebellion driven, Heard in its wildest moment of commotion,

And stood transfixed at the command of heaven."

The sound of rushing waters succeeded; the mountains, save the one upon which we stood, sunk from the sight; and a dark and troubled ocean rolled beneath us. In consternation, I turned to my companions, but instead of the old man, with his thin, grey hair streaming in the wind, I beheld the irradiate form of the Saviour. I fell prostrate to the earth. The child, awed but not intimidated— for innocence knows not fear-meekly knelt, and, with its tiny hands clasped together as in prayer, gazed upon that heavenly face which seemed to be fully revealed to her, while to my aching vision it was shrouded by a veil, light as an infant's breath, and more dazzling than if woven of the rays of the diamond.

Although the sun was several diameters above our horizon, he had long set to those in the valleys And now, the voice was heard to say, "Come beneath; and the shadows of the mountains were forth!" And immediately the ocean heaved and fast deepening into gloom, while their summits swelled, until its turbid waters nearly washed our were basking in light. The immediate base of the feet-when it suddenly receded,--and rolling back high spur upon which we stood, was concealed by into the distant void, left an immense plain covered a girdle of mist, gathered many hundred feet below with the generations of men. They were divided us,—while the same humid vapor occasionally filled into three immense bodies: first, the tribes and the chasms, or were wreathed around the crags, people before the flood, and then the nations before and swept down the slopes of distant mountains. and after the advent of the Messiah.

VOL. VIII-65

In the van stood the father of men; his lofty port chastened with an air which showed that if he had sinned, he had also suffered much. Beside him, clinging for support, as she shrunk from the piercing rays of the Godhead, was the unhappy mother of the human race.

Alas! of the chosen people of God, how few were permitted to ascend that mount!

Presently came Semiramis, the human tigress, and the effeminate Mede, and the haughty Assyrian who destroyed, and the warlike Persian who rebuilt the temple of God-and Homer, and Plato Mute and conscience-stricken, the multitude, the sublime, and Socrates the wise, and Aristides headed by their common parents, slowly advanced; the just, and Alexander the warrior, and Brutus when the child in imploring accents exclaimed, the republican were there. All received their doom "Holy One! have mercy.' from that little child. And now came the genera tions since the birth of the Redeemer!

And the Holy One replied, “Seat thyself before me-thou shalt be endued with the knowledge of the Most High; and by thee, the youngest and the last, shall the destinies of thy race be determined."

The child obeyed, and Adam and Eve, in obedience to its signal, passed up the mount-and the Holy One said, "It is good! they have sinned and have repented. Throughout all time their spirits have writhed with the knowledge of the misery they have entailed upon their offspring: strict justice would condemn, but mercy spares them."

In the vanguard was the Baptist, the standardbearer of Christianity,-then, followed by St. Peter the first chosen, came St. Paul the eloquent and enthusiastic, the angelic Mary supported by the beloved disciple, and Mary Magdaline, and all the apostles and evangelists and followers of the Lamb. Side by side also came the crucified thieves. But he, whose revilings had embittered the last noments of his Redeemer, fell off and joined the sons of perdition-the conspiring Pharisees, and Herod who had persecuted, and Pilate who had unjustly condemned, and Judas who had betrayed the Son of man.

Then approached Cain the first born, with anguish on his brow, but no true repentance in his heart; and, at a shudder from the child, he in- Then passed up shouting loud hosannas, the glo stinctively turned, and brushing against the meek-rious body of martyrs-headed by St. Stephen, and eyed Abel, rushed down the steep, the multitude the virgins, and whole hosts of saints;-while the shrinking from the touch of the fratricide. The dark Tiberias, and blood-thirsty Nero, and all the simple-minded Abel, and many like him, passed ensanguined line of Cæsars, and countless hordes up-but many more, and far more rapidly increasing of barbarians, and many of the descendants of in number, were those rejected by the child. Charlemagne, and the treacherous John and remorseless Richard, and lustful Harry, and crafty Elizabeth of England, and all of the tribes and nations of the earth who had died at enmity with their God, (and oh, what an untold host there was) were turned in despair towards the dark void. And now the voice was heard, saying,

"Let their doom be accomplished!" and the seething waters of the ocean rolled over and hid

Then came the generations before the coming of the Saviour. The Assyrians, Egyptians and Jews; the Arabians, the Medes, and the Persians; the Greeks, Carthagenians and Romans, with countless others were there. And Noah advanced and took the upward path, followed, alas! by few. Anon, came Abraham, the friend of God, with the once more beautiful Sarah,—and Melchisedec, the priest of the unbloody sacrifice,—and the laughter-them from the sight. loving Isaac; the modest Rebecca; the almost too politic Jacob, and the chaste and filial Joseph. The sadness which had been gathering over the face of the child passed away, and she welcomed their approach with joy. But again that sweet face was overcast; for now advanced the sceptred line of Pharoah-he of the hardened heart, the most conspicuous-followed by the swarthy idolaters of Egypt. As the child, by a gesture, proclaimed their doom, the Holy One said-"It is just, but let the heaviest wo fall on the rulers who have abused, and the teachers who have misled the people."

Then came Moses, the man beloved of God, and Aaron the chosen high priest, and David the royal penitent-with the judges, and kings, and prophets, and all the stiff-necked tribes of Israel. And, as the first named passed, the Holy One said, "Thy sin of doubt has been expiated by exile and repentance, receive thy reward."

Presently, over that ocean the clouds gathered. and the thunder loudly pealed, and the red lightning played across in incessant flashes. Now, the ocean itself grew black and thickened, and the lightning struck it-and it burst forth in one general conflagration. The mountain upon which we stood, rocked and reeled, and then seemed to be uprooted from its base, and to float unscathed upo the burning waters.

Here I was awaked by my room-mate shakag violently one of the bed-posts, and bidding me, for God's sake, rise, for that the woods were all on fire below us. The bright light which shone through the windows confirmed his intelligence. Dressing in haste, we proceeded to the yard in front; where we found the driver hitching his teach, and calling upon his passengers to hurry, that ar might pass the fire before it had crossed the rea The suggestion to send a messenger ahead to as certain if the fire had not already crossed,

scouted with the characteristic impertinence of his Washington, if you go on acting in this way? Why class; and, almost at full speed, we dashed down don't you make Mr. Gordon keep his distance?" the rapid descent. "Now aunt, don't you be meddling," replied the With murmurs and deep misgivings, we saw our-younger petulantly; "Mr. Ames may not follow us selves whirled by the last place where, for many as he promised, and you know Mr. Gordon keeps miles, the stage could be turned. Ahead, and di- the most fashionable store in Louisville." rectly in our path, we heard the roaring of the "And is it possible that after mixing in all the blaze, and the sound of the falling timber. The fine company this session, you can think of marryair was filled with myriads of sparks, and the burn-ing a shopkeeper?" ing cinders fell thick as the flakes of a snow-storm, around us.

"You just let me alone, aunt-I know what I am about."

When we came to the upper line of fire, it had At this moment Mr. Gordon reappeared, and rereached but not crossed the road. The heat was ceived a graceful nod and encouraging smile from intense and almost scorching, and the roaring noise the younger, while the elder scanned him with a and blinding light made the horses frantic. They cold and repulsive eye. Female sharpers, thought reared and plunged and strove to free themselves I, as I turned away in disgust. from the harness; but the heavy crash of a falling tree behind, made them wild with terror; and, with a peculiar noise like an unearthly shriek, they rushed headlong at full speed. I threw my arms around the driver to support him, while, with his body bent almost over the footboard, he bore his whole strength upon the reins. The screams and shouts within the stage, were soon drowned by the roar as of a mighty cataract; and in a moment we found ourselves between two walls of fire, the flames meeting in fantastic curls in the air above

"I say stranger," called out a man to me as I approached the stern, "ever been in these parts before?"

us.

"No," said I, "this is the first time."

"Well, aint this going it slick but wait till you get to the Mississippi, that'll wake you up, I can tell you."

"Yes," I replied, "I am told that it is much bolder and wider; but then the water is not so clear and beautiful as this."

"How you talk, stranger! What's beauty got to do with it? Why the Mississippi is like a great backbone, going from one end clean to the other; but this," pointing to the river, "aint no more than one of the small ribs."

Fortunately the belt was a narrow one; but before we had cleared it, the reins, crisped by the heat, one after another, snapped asunder-and the horses unrestrained, sped furiously along for a mile Perceiving that the man was an original, I took or more. Suddenly, at a turn, the stage upset a seat and entered into conversation with him. with a severe shock; and the horses breaking Pleased with an auditor, he became communicaloose, were found some hours afterwards in a creek, tive; and I listened with interest, while, in the pecooling their scorched bodies. It was thought that culiar phraseology of the West, he related some of they would never again be fit for service. The his adventures. We sat far into the night; and as inside passengers received no material injury, but our huge leviathan swept along, sometimes almost neither the driver nor myself could immediately grazing the banks, I fancied that I could occaproceed. We were hospitably received in a farm-sionally hear from within the gloom of the dark house near by, where we remained for some days and bloody ground of Kentucky on our left, that under the soothing application of cream to our blis- terrific warwhoop of which he spoke. I have been tered hands and faces. enabled to write down nearly all of what he first related, because perhaps, simply from its being the first, it made the deepest impression.

From Wheeling I descended the Ohio, whose limpid waters, gliding with a strong but not impetuous current between high and verdant banks, have won for it the name of beautiful.

Our steamboat, although large, was crowded, and I was incessantly struck with the difference between the soothing aspect of nature without, and the provision for artificial wants, the petty schemes, the elamor and dissatisfaction within.

Hardin, such was the narrator's name, was a sergeant in what I think he termed the raised volunteers of Ohio, during the late war. He had been sent with twelve men to escort a wagon, laden with supplies for one of the smaller posts, about twenty-eight miles distant. It was considered possible, but not probable that the Indians had While occupied with such thoughts, I uncon- penetrated within the advanced posts. Besides sciously approached two ladies, from whom a gen- the detachment of soldiers, his party consisted of tleman was just withdrawing-for the purpose, as I soon found, of procuring some article below. Scarce had he descended, when the elder lady remarked to the younger in a tone bespeaking a lower rank than her dress would indicate-" Emmeline, what has been the use of taking you to

two friendly Indians for scouts; the driver, an athletic swarthy half breed, named Butler, and the wife and young child of a soldier belonging to the post to which they were bound.

They left the fort about three P. M., and accomplished ten miles by dark, when they encamped,

expecting to reach the post early on the morrow. [him take the lead, with five men on each side graThey again started at sunrise; but in consequence dually spreading out in the form of a wedge, while of a heavy rain during the night, travelled slowly. the sergeant himself brought up the rear with the By noon, however, they had made twelve miles, two remaining soldiers, faced the opposite way to and stopped to refresh themselves and horses. guard against surprise. Their arrangements comTheir rude dinner was just spread before them, pleted, as the whole party anxiously watched the when the scouts came in and reported that there Indians flitting from the shelter of one tree to that were no marks of Indians in the woods. Cheered of another, they were startled by the cry of the by the intelligence, they prepared to make a hearty child, which had raised itself upon its little hands meal, in the confident expectation of reaching their and called for its mother. They saw it struggle place of destination at an early hour. Hardin was for a few feet, then fall upon its face and die. leaning over, helping the woman, when he heard a whiz by his ear, followed in quick succession by a sharp report and a scream from the child, which sprung wounded from its mother's arms.

"The wagon men-make for the wagon," shouted Hardin. "But where are the scouts ?"

"The devils! the incarnate devils!" exclaimed the half breed-" Oh that they would but show themselves."

Very soon after, and quick as light, he brought his rifle to his shoulder and fired; and an Indian, who had just peered from behind a tree, fell beside it. His fall drew a shout from the soldiers, which was answered by a fierce whoop and a general vol

"Here they are sneaking off," called out one. "Shoot them down, the traitors;" and several muskets were discharged. One of the scouts fell-ley from the Indians. With the exception of one the other, evidently wounded, limping as he fled, escaped.

or two slight flesh wounds, the discharge was harmless: but it served to convince the whites that their foes more than trebled their number.

While they sought cover behind the wagon, the woman remained gazing, horror-stricken, upon her The action now became general, and the woods child as it lay bleeding. Suddenly she seized a rang with the sharp crack of the rifle, and the knife which laid upon the grass beside the untasted louder but less deadly report of the musket. The food, and with furious speed, heedless of their Indians spreading as they advanced, soon outcall, rushed towards the quarter whence the fatal flanked the whites, and then gradually closing in, ball had sped. As she passed a tree, a short dis-almost completely encircled them. Already three tance from the other side of the road, and in full of the soldiers had fallen, and two others were so view from their position, an Indian stepped out and brained her with his tomahawk; but before he could retreat to cover, a soldier levelled his musket and fired; and the savage, bounding upwards several feet, fell to the earth a corpse.

badly wounded as to be unable to use their weapons. The only hope left was in retreat, and the survivors rushed to the place where the horses were secured. One of the horses lay bleeding, wounded perhaps by a random shot. Casting Butler had been, throughout the journey, a silent them loose the whites strove to mount, while the and dull companion; but at the first alarm, he had Indians rushed forward to prevent them. The run to the wagon, and commenced searching for sergeant succeeded in mounting one of the horses his rifle. He found it just as the Indian fell; with a soldier behind him. Butler had gained the when, with a loud and exulting laugh, he exclaimed, back of another, when an Indian sprung forward, "Well done soldier;" then jumping down beside and, seizing the headstall, threw his tomahawk. Hardin, he said to him, "Mr. Sergeant, this will It struck Butler on the side of the temple, peeling not be a safe place for you long-these Indian it to the bone. In an instant, he jumped down and devils havn't shown their usual cunning, or they clutched his opponent. For some moments, they would have begun the attack from more points than one; take to the trees if you wish to preserve a single life."

66

Sergeant," here cried several of the soldiers, "the Indians are running across the road."

"To the trees, each man a tree for your lives," shouted Hardin; and the whole party rushed into

the woods.

After the death of the warrior, save a few ineffectual shots at some of the Indians as they successively ran across the road, the time was passed in silent preparation. Each soldier behind the tree he had selected, fixed his bayonet, pecked his flint, and drew his cartouch box more in front. By the advice of Butler, who seemed more familiar with the Indian mode of warfare, the sergeant let

struggled desperately; but, freeing his right arm, Butler drew a knife and plunged it into the savage. As he turned to mount again, he was pierced by a bullet from behind, when, seeming to abandon all hopes of escape, he staggered forward, brandishing the bloody knife, and endeavored to close with the nearest Indian. The wily savage, stepping aside, felled him to the ground with the butt of his rifle.

With his eyes fixed upon the dreadful scene, from which he was endeavoring his utmost to es cape, the wild warwhoop, raised on the fall of the half-breed, seemed to Hardin premonitory of his own. There was a desperate struggle around the remaining horses, and the sergeant heard the crack of several rifles as he urged the horse upon which he was mounted, to his utmost speed. In a few