He

rusty rifles of the rangers, enlivening the landscape with their brilliant colors, and breaking the silence of the seeming solitude with clattering of hoofs, and voices in merriment. Colonel Morgan watched them with a look so intense, one might have thought he looked into their very hearts, and told their doom; and as they came nearer and nearer, while the memory of his country's wrongs and sufferings came crowding on his mind, he scowled with a look of defiance and hatred that showed how deeply he felt for every wound inflicted upon her. burned to take vengeance upon them, but the express order of Washington, not to fire, rang in his ears, and he was powerless. He cast his eyes around upon his little party; a semicircle of black-barreled rifles pointed their long muzzles towards the advancing British; the men stood still as death, and their faces were pale with suspended desire; not a foot moved, nor an eye dropped its lashes; there seemed to be no breath, but the intense gaze, like a stud of glass, was fixed and rigid. At every step they advanced, and as their voices were heard louder and more distinctly, and expressions in contempt of the "Yankees" came from their lips, each word seemed to sear into the very heart of Colonel Morgan. He had his hand upon a small conch-shell that hung by his side, with which he always gave the order to fire, and his fingers appeared to itch, as he clasped it more tightly.

The scene grew more and more exciting; and, as he cast his eyes quickly over his little party, and then at the forces of his country's oppressors, hardly could the orders of Washington withhold him from giving the fatal command. Every man fired according to an understood rule. Rangers never waste their fire by several aiming at the same mark, but, by a certain understanding, each selects his man. The party of British had now approached to within fifty yards, and were all in fair view. Colonel Morgan's excitement had not in the least abated, and the men still stood motionless, and with their deadly rifles still pointing towards their foes.

Their voices were perfectly distinct, and probably they might have been allowed to pass by unmolested, had not one of the officers, with a sneering laugh, said something derogatory to the truth and justice of the American people and their cause, when Colonel Morgan, no longer able to contend with his feelings, quickly applied the shell to his lips, and, almost simultaneously with the note that rang from it, burst the shrill, deathly scream from the rifles, as if fired by one man. Reloading instantly, another fire was poured into them, causing additional destruction. Thirty saddles were emptied, and thirty frightened and riderless horses scoured through the woods, or, whirling, dashed in amongst the survivors, adding more confusion to the panic. When those who had not been killed recovered somewhat, they immediately put spurs to escape; but the unfailing ball followed them, and but few escaped to carry back the sad tidings of the unsuccessful adventure. After all had become quiet, and the excitement passed, Colonel Morgan recollected with agony the command of Washington, and he bowed his head, grieved and ashamed; and the men, feeling for their commander, and knowing the exactness with which General Washington always required the fulfilment of an order, relieved themselves by starting in different directions to catch the horses, and, gathering the other booty together, prepared to return to camp, only waiting the order to march.

Without opening his lips, Morgan gave the signal, and, on reaching the camp, dispatched an officer to report to head-quarters, and then sat down, apparently overwhelmed with the burden of his feelings. The officer returned, but bearing with him no word from the General; and an hour or more passed, leaving him in deeper suspense. He arose and paced before his tent with uneasy and irregular steps. At length an aid-de-camp stood before him, and, respectfully touching his hat, presented the compliments of General Washington, requesting his presence at his quarters. Without a moment's hesitation, he started, anxious, as any brave man

would be, to meet whatever should come, and, if necessary, suffer for his dereliction of duty.

He stopped before the General's tent, heard his name announced, and the order, "Bid him to enter," repeated by that clear, majestic tone, which, once heard, never was forgotten. And in a moment more, as the curtain was drawn aside, he stepped forward, and stood boldly up in the presence of the great commander, determined to acknowledge his fault like a man, and receive his reprimand like a man also. But what was his astonishment, instead of seeing on the General's face the cold, stern expression that always awed all to silence in his presence, and entirely forbade the least familiarity, keeping every one at a respectful distance, he beheld that pleasant smile which sometimes overspread his face, like the sun, when it suddenly lights up some mountain, and

which the belles of that day thought their utmost endeavors well paid for, if they could win but one from him in the course of an evening. At the same time, rising from his seat, he stepped towards Colonel Morgan, shook him warmly by the hand, and said, "Colonel, I have, for us, quite an unusual thing-a good supper; and I have sent for you to enjoy it with me, and pass the evening over a bottle of wine." Colonel Morgan sat down with a light heart. The load that had weighed so heavily upon him, seeming sufficient to crush him to the earth, fell and was forgotten. It was late in the night before they parted; the conversation was animated; no allusion whatever was made to the occurrence of the day; and Colonel Morgan always referred with particular pleasure to the evening he spent with General Washington.

How like the smile of her I love,
The pale moon's gentle beams,
Far floating from their home above
In soft and silvery dreams.

Slant through the lattice on my face

They throw their shadowy light,

And strange, sweet visions, o'er me trace
Their wizard shapes all night.

The fondly loved, the early flown,
The friends of many a year,
Cold sleepers in the dust alone,
In beauty reappear.

And on my father's cottage lawn,

I trip it as of yore,

Nor find a single vestige gone
That hallowed it before.

The mossy pump is by the stile,

A little brook beyond,

And through the meadow, half a mile,

The lily-covered pond,

Where, in the hazy summer nights,
To childhood's simple eye,
The fearful Jack-o'-lanthorn lights
Went floating strangely by.
And yonder, on the pleasant hill,
The village church was seen;
And down below, the village mill-
Beyond, the village green.
And low, and softly musical,
Remembered sounds are near;
The chiming of the Sabbath-bell,
That trembles on the ear.

They pass me, old and holy men,
And youths, with smiles of joy,
All thronging to the church again,
As when I was a boy.

And whoop! hurra! 'tis frolic-time;
The hour of school is o'er;

We shout amid the brake and thyme
Around the cabin door.

I build my tiny shingle boat,
And launch it on the spring,
And watch it, full of pebbles, float,

As happy as a king.

As happy?-ay, and happier;
For in my guileless breast
As yet, no sting of grief or care
Its heavy weight has pressed.

Ah! Memory, like a loosened bee,
Released from Age's power,
Plucks fruit from every boyhood tree
And every boyhood flower.

The spring's soft breath has touched my cheek,
The summer days are o'er,

And sweet, low, autumn voices speak,

As sadly as of yore;

And I, from childhood's years, have grown
To strength of hand and heart,
And, 'neath the elm, with one alone,
Have met to smile and part.

And must I breathe the faint farewell,
And launch on life's rude stream?

It fades! it fades! a broken spell!
I wake 'tis all a dream!

REVERIES

BACHELOR.

I AM an old bachelor now, and fast approaching that period when my friends would laugh at my folly if I attempted to look for a wife, and would seriously think of confining me in a lunatic asylum if I were to take one. This, however, may be partly my own fault; but I am inclined to think that Fate had a great deal to do with it also. I was always fond of female society; and ever since I have any remembrance of beauty, it was a pretty face belonging to a little girl of about my own age. I was four years old at the time; and this remembrance clings to me as freshly now, at-well, it makes no difference what ageas ever; and if any fault is on my side, that I am not married, I presume it may have been owing to an old-fashioned notion I imbibed at an early day, and which has stuck to me ever since, viz, that "matches are made in heaven," and that if they are made there, no one can prevent them on earth; do as you will, married you will be, in spite of yourself; and that if no other mode is left, owing to the opposition made by mortals, some day or night, the party whose marriage was "heaven-recorded will wake up and find himself a "Benedict."

Where I got this idea from, I do not remember, but always attributed it to the doctrines of Calvin, having been brought up in that faith. Be that the source or not, it has ever been a great consolation to me; for, after trying to obtain a wife, (and, from first to last, no man ever tried harder,) and as often been disappointed, I consoled myself with the thought that it "was otherwise ordered," and, like a good Christian, considered it my duty to submit; believing with Shakspeare, that

"There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough hew them as we will."

Now, some people may think that this belief is not orthodox, and that it may lead to the effect of causing many an old maid or bachelor, that would not otherwise have existed. Well, suppose it does; a'n't they necessary, in this world of ours, to take care of those unfortunate children that have bad parents, or no parents at all; or, what is worse, the offspring of those "marry-forlove-and work-for-riches" romantic part of society, who think that married life is like a livelong summer day, no clouds to cross the sun of their happiness; and, if misfortune does come, the husband can work his way to California, and the wife to the almshouse? In fact, independent of their use to society, I consider an old bachelor quite indispensable to fill up the great order of Nature; without him, there would be a link lost from the chain. As the sponge is a type of the lowest order of animal life, so the old bachelor is the lowest of the human family, but quite necessary to illustrate the gradual steps that Nature takes in forming the most perfect, which is, the father of a large family of small children, all of whom are vaccinated and have had the measles.

Poets tell us of love, and lead us to suppose that such a feeling or passion never exists but once; that, when the heart once burns with such a flame, it never leaves off burning until it has consumed itself; or that, if any part of the organ is left, it is proof against another attack; just like a child that is teething, or has had scarlet-fever-no danger of taking it a second time. I don't believe in such sentiments. I am rather inclined to think that circumstances control love, and that it changes according to the nature or state of the constitution on which it acts; just like any other malady. One man has it very severe-dangerously ill

probably leading to death by suicide or insanity; while another gets over it lightly, hardly causing any abstinence from business or diet; altogether owing to difference in the patient, the disease remaining the same in all cases. Moore, in his beautiful lines entitled, "Believe me, if all those endearing young charms," tells us of a sunflower, that turned upon her god the same look when he set as she did when he rose. Well, suppose he did say so. A sunflower is not a woman, by a long odds; nor is poets' evidence received as entitled to great weight on the score of veracity; so I don't see any cause of changing my opinion.

I

Hold up! Why, where is my pen? intended to have told you, dear reader, of my first love, and the cause of my still remaining a bachelor, and here I am, discussing the necessity of their existence. Well, forgive the vagaries of an old bachelor, and I will commence.

It was in Europe, while traveling with my mother, who had been ordered abroad for the benefit of her health, that I first beheld the maiden that shot a Cupid's dart into my unsuspecting bosom. It is said that children recover from accidents or injuries rapidly, owing, I suppose, to the fact that nature has not been abused by dissipation or late hours: be that as it may, there must be a great deal of truth in the theory, or else I never could have rallied so fast, for I was almost gone; I neither slept nor atetwo very necessary things to a boy of "four years old"-all one night and day. The next day, however, I made out to visit my adorer-no great feat, to be sure, as she lived next door to the hotel in which we resided—and, like the hero, "told my tale of love," and had the happiness to find it reciprocated; upon which, like all other weighty matters, I affixed my seal, which then consisted of a kiss. Yes! you may laugh, reader, at my childish notion of "falling in love" at that tender age. Did you never act the child, or, it may be, the fool, at a later period in your life? Well, never mind; only, don't laugh at my confessions;

"the child is always father to the man," and if I had made as great an effort in after-life as I did then, to secure the continuance of my love, I might not now be obliged to mourn my state of "single blessedness."

Talk about Jacob serving fourteen years to obtain the chosen one of his heart; why, I served twice as long-if allowance is made for the fancied length of a child's day-and sacrificed all my toys, to contribute to her joys; it was not much, to be sure, but it was all I had. I don't believe a man would have done as much, for we get rather selfish as we get old. Well, we got along smoothly, never dreaming that aught else than happiness was before us-we walking hand-inhand around the park daily, while our nurses were chatting with the good-looking soldiers off duty; but, like every thing else, there came an end to our bliss.

One day, nurse announced the fact that we were to leave in the afternoon for a distant town; and, oh! horrors! my adored was not to be taken along. At this intelligence, I raved and cried, just like a man, only I suppose a man would have swore and stamped upon the floor; however, I cried myself to sleep, and when I awoke, the horses and coach at the door, with the guard in scarlet coat, made me forget; just like a man who, satisfied with equipage and liveried servants, crushes the feelings of his heart by the heavy weight that fame or wealth bring to him. I remember asking my nurse many times about my little "belle;" but, at last, like larger people, I began to forget absent friends, and comfort myself with others that were present.

This was my first love, and I was between four and five years of age; the next time I took the epidemic, I was between fourteen and fifteen. It was an epidemic, coming on about every ten years of my life, only lighter at every attack.

At this age, I was a large, stout boy; and as I was the only son of the family, I was therefore petted, or, rather, allowed to do much as I pleased; and as my father was a stern man, I had to be very careful that

my conduct did not partake of a silly or childish nature. This liberty tended to develop the independence of the man, more than boys of my age usually possess. I kept a horse of my own; and, living in a western country, had many opportunities of doing little things which my city education had fitted me for, but which amongst the natives passed for "rather smart;" and being pretty kind in my disposition, I was popular amongst our rustic neighbors. Having been absent one day on some occasion or other-I believe it was the location of a school-house, or getting it finished for the winter, in order to keep the young idea warm while "learning to shoot "--whatever was the cause of my absence, it was in some way connected with education, and the roads were muddy. This accounts for my absence and state of my toilet, which has a bearing on my tale, as you will shortly understand. On arriving at home and giving my horse to a servant, I approached the house in my soiled clothes, to which the mud clung tenaciously, and, eager to divest myself of such an encumbrance, I hastily opened the door, when, before me-but why attempt such a task as to describe the vision that burst upon my sight; as well might I undertake to describe the Mohammedan's paradise. It was like a dream, the principal character of which is well remembered, but all other minor circumstances that must have attended it are forgotten. My mother, however, was heartily ashamed of the conduct of her only son, thus acting more like a country bumpkin than the intelligent youth that she thought me; and, after many attempts, made me comprehend that the being before me, whom I supposed was an angel minus the wings, was sister to a friend of ours, and had come to drink tea with us. I looked, I presume, like "a stuck calf," for I could not get a word out of my head; and as for all the fine words and compliments that I had picked up in my miscellaneous reading, they were forgotten or lost. All I could see or think of were a pair of dark lustrous eyes, and above them, and falling off her

ivory shoulders, massy tresses of dark wavy hair in natural ringlets, and all belonged to some being of the feminine gender.

Oh, ye gods and little fishes! but I was in a fix. I dare not move for fear of breaking the spell, and prudence whispered I was making a fool of myself; upon which pride took the alarm, and called up dignity to maintain the character of the man. But the attempt, I presume, was a very poor one, for I observed a smile upon her face, whether of pity or derision I know not; however, it brought me to my senses, and after some awkward attempt at gallantry, I sidled away to make my toilet, which, I presume, embraced all my wardrobe, as I was very desirous of shining out to the fullest extent. How I finished the evening I know not, but remember perfectly well scalding myself with hot tea so badly as to evoke her sympathy, and, in my endeavors to be polite in helping her to preserves, upset the dish, and made ruin of the table-cloth; in fact, "I was taken in and done for." Talk of a person falling in love at first sight; here it was illustrated; I had not time to wink before. I was over head and ears in it.

This delicious dream lasted for one whole summer, during which time I was assiduous in my attention upon her; there was no other beau in that neighborhood that could compete, for I was perfectly reckless, and would have gloried to have died for her. I often wished that something would occur, where I could risk my life and show my devotion to her. I remember that one time I was visiting her-indeed I almost lived at her brother's while she remained and a gentleman called to see her, who, I learned, had come some fifty miles for that purpose. He, probably suspecting the state of affairs, wished to enjoy himself at my expense, and, while sauntering around, kept drawing me out; at last he hazarded some remark about my Dulcinea, that roused my jealousy to such an extent I seized an axe that stood by, and had some serious thoughts of ridding the world of such a monster; but, if I was a large boy, he was a large man, as I