SELECT MISCELLANY.

RURAL CEMETERIES,

"Wind gentle evergreen, to form a shade
Around the tomb where Sopholes is laid;
Sweet ivy wird thy boughs, and intertwine
With blusing roses and the clustering vine:
So shall thy boughs with lasting heuors hung
Prove grateful emblems of the lays he sung."

departed, let us protect their sepulchres; adorning them
with the mourning cypress, and with the sweetest flow-
ers of the spring!

It is this beautiful custom which takes away from those chilling sensations that are apt to crowd upon the mind, and to oppress it, on the approach to the sepulchre. We forget that the worm is revelling on the object of our af There is a pleasure in looking upon the grave as a fection, and enchanted by the sweet poetry of the pros place of rest. But in the heart of cities, when we fancy pect, we look upon the grave as a beautiful resting-place. something in their sepulchres, repugnant to the idea of a What a peculiar fitness, also, in the rite, and how emble sweet repose. There the dead may lie down amid a pro-matic of the virtuous dead! For as flowers, though long | fusion of sculpture, amid monuments seen like the tomb of Bianor in the distance, erected by vanity, and never moistened by a tear. But there is a voice without, which baffles all their quietude, and drowns the silent eloquence of the grave. While the multitude are hurrying through crowded thoroughfares, and the hum of men and murmurs of a great mart are fretting like waves against the sepulchre, it seems not like that wished-for mansion, where "the weary are at rest."

plucked from the stem, still continue to diffuse their
sweetness around them, so will the fragrance of virtuous
actions be strong and lasting, even when the heart which
prompted, and the hand which performed them, have
been for ever chilled in death.

"The garlands wither on your brow;

Then boast no more your mighty deeds
Upon death's purple altar now

See where the victor victim bleeds."

"All heads must come

To the cold tomb,

Only the ashes of the just

Smell sweet and blossom in the dust."

inscribed upon them? But the willow and the rose will be ever returning, ane ever blooming on the approach of spring; thus quickening our affections, and almost enticing us to linger at the grave. And who would not prefer these natural monuments to the cold marble that the hand of man has fashioned? the romantic beauties of Pere la Chaise,' to the long-drawn aisles of Westminster Abbey? Yes, surely, if there is a place where simplicity possesses a charm, and where every approach to arrogance should be avoided, it is that last narrow housc→→

where, side by side, The poor man and the sou of pride

Lie calm and still.'

To throw around the grave the gorgeous trappings of living haughtiness, appears a kind of horrid mockery.— It is the unseemly paint daubed upon the ghastly features of death. It is creating a distinctlon where every distinction is alike levelled with the dust. And there are better memorials than the gilded narble or the sculptored stone; for the tear, as it trembles in the eye of affection, or sparkles on the tomb of the dead, is worth all the 'pomp of heraldry, and boast of power;' and the deepgraven characters which are inscribed upon the living tablets of the heart, are better than the most vaunting epitaph upon Parian marble.

Knickerbocker.

prevent its floating, and hang the kettle over a fire. As the water becomes hot, it melts the wax, and causes it to rise to the surface by passing through the pores of the bag, while the impurities remain.

Medicines should never be kept in papers, but always in bottles and vials; and care should be taken that, as soon as procured, they be always immediately labelled. Serious accicents have happened, and lives have been lost by neglect in this particular, by administering powerful substances through mistake.

Methinks I could emulate the example of the Turk, if not in his ideas of a blind fatality, at least in a devotion which teaches him not to violate the grave. For, indulging the stately reserve of his nature, he holds converse When, instead of a dank, unhandsome gloomy charwith the shades of his ancestors, reposing beneath the nel house, associated only with the humbling ideas of mourning cypress, in the midst of some vast metropolis. corruption, where the aged, whom he have honored, and The care of the dead is a beautiful trait in any nation, the young whose beauty, so sylph-like, so spiritual, we and has its origin in the adulterated wells of the heart.- have idolized, are given up to festering and the worm; Items in Domestic Economy. It is a redeeming fe. ture in the otherwise stern and re- when, instead of all that is repulsive to human feeling, To separate wax from the impurities of the honeypulsive character of the American savage. He loves his we behold the sepulchre turned into a garden of roses, com b, put the comb into a bag, place it in a kettle of cold country, not only for its solitudes, and majestic forests, and into a breathing wilderness of sweets, we could al-water, tying a small stone or other weight to the bag to which accord so well with his "soul's sadness," and most forego the remnants of a life, too agitated by painwhence, as from a temple, his prayers may go up to the ful emotions, and lay down our heads as in some chamGreat Spirit, but he loves it more ardently, for in it the ber of sweet forgetfulness, some flowery entrance to the bones of his dead repose. He regards their sepulchres blest abodes, where there are no more tears or sorrow, with a veneration of which more civilized nations know!" where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary nothing, and they are his last entrenchment in the day are at rest." of battle. And when the arts of the white man have Happy is it, that the grave can be thus stripped of its at last prevailed, and he goes broken-hearted beyond the prerogative of terror, and robbed of its “victory,” even "Great River," thither his last lingering looks are cast. as Jesus Christ has rifled death of its "sting." That Generations may pars away, like the leaves of the forest; thus we may look calmly upon it, as the ultimate goal but when some of his posterity, retracing the steps of, whither all steps are wending, as the dark opening of his exile, come to our seat of government to strike new some bright and glorious perspective, and recoil in the treaties, again to be broken, they will turn, perhaps, ma- giddy world, to escape its lessons of morality. Were ny miles from the highway, and seeking out some tumults the grave rendered more attractive, it might be better in the wood, where the shes of their tribe were deposit- than the words of the preacher. The old man, as he ed, pass many hours in rint lamentation. And is not passed by, would remember, without shuddering, that he the civilized man excelled in this respect by the savage? was dust, nor would the youth hurry on, " whistling to After unmitigated wrong and outrage, committed and to keep his courage up." It should entice more readily than be committed, until their last remnant has vanished, the lips of some "old man eloquent," and instil its stern would to God that he would learn his lesson from the lessons into willing ears. It should have a voice and an vanquished. Who has not seen, in our largest towns, eloquence of its own. More sublimely than human sacrilege frequently committed, for the sake of lucre ?-thought ever conceived oi, and in a language "sweeter the abcdes of the dead unblushingly rent open, bones cast out in a heterogeneous mass, and the whole place at last reduced to one common level? It might have been hoped, that the lust of gain would stop short of this; and to the honor of human nature, many have united in the deprecatory voice of the poet;

"Good friend for Jesus' sake forbear,

than all tune," it should discourse of death, judgment
and eternity. Oh! bring flowers, bring flowers! Dis-
dain not to encourage that which is so refined in its ten-
dency, though Reason, in her despicable pride, may
sneer at you, and account it a weekness to honor the
casket, when deserted by the gem!

Let us visit often the burial-places of the dead, recall
our minds from the grossness of earthly cares, commune
with them, and then, scattering our sweet emblems, go
back with cheerful hearts into the world, and endeavor
to emulate their virtues. We shall be better affected by
this than by rearing any cold mausolcum. That may be
intrusted to the artist, and may excite the gaze, if not the
sneer of the passer. It is better to present our own of

To touch the bones enclosed here!" Shame, shame on the Vandal, that can trample, brutelike, on the graves of his kindred, or cast indignity on the soil that presses the bosom of his friends! The man of refined feeling will recollect, that that which now lies cold beneath him was once the birth place of all that is noble. He will feel it a sacrilege to trample on the grave; much more, to invade with indecent hand its precincts.ferings. He will rather regard it a "holy of holies,' a place to be protested from every profane intrusion; a shrine whither to wend in frequent pilgrimage, and to bring the tribute of tears. By every motive of self-respect or love for the

What are the proudest piles of sculptured marble?— Will not the beating storm, and the effacing moss, and the corrosive hand of Time soon blot out these vain memorials, and destroy the short-lived characters which are

It often happens that ground glass stoppers of vials and decanters become so tight that it is impossible to draw them out. To remedy this difficulty, apply the hand, which has been previously heated before the fire, to the neck about the stopper, and by heating it, and thus causing it to expand and consequently to increase the orifice about the stopper, it will render the stopper easy to If the warmth of the hand is not suffibe removed. cient, apply a cloth dipped in hot water.

Strong paste is made by mixing flour and cold water very thoroughly, the water to be in such proportions that when mixed it may be quite liquid, and then boiling it till it is of a glutinous nature, stirring it constantly.— The strength is much improved by adding, while boiling, from one-fourth to one sixth of the weight of the flour in powdered alum. As rye is more glutinous than other grain, it makes a stronger paste. When made into paste with alum, it is nearly as strong as glue.

To prevent rust on steel instruments, rub them over while warm, with white wax; then melt the wax before a fire, and continue to rub it with a cloth, until the original polish is restored.

Cranberries may be preserved for a long time, by drying them partially, and corking them very closely in bottles. A coat of sealing wax over the cork would be advisable.

To make court-plaster, take very thin silk, dip it in a solution of isinglass (or fish glue) with water, and after it becomes dry, dip it several times in the white of egg.

A very good material for blacking boots and shoes can be made in a few minutes by putting half a tea cup full

of lamp-black in a tin basin or dish. adding the white of an egg, and rendering it sufficiently liquid by adding and mixing thoroughly with it, a quantity of vinegar. The only labor is mixing the materials, which do not very readily incorporate.

To make cement for glass or earthenware, take unslacked lime, the fresher and finer the better, pulverize it in a mortar, sift it through a fine sieve, or coarse muslin. Mix this tho oughly and rapidly with the white of eggs, so as to form a thick peste, and use it immediately. Broken dishes may be mendel with this cement, and if it, is neatly and skilfully done, adhere very strongly. Isinglass dissolved in alcohol is also strongly recommended; as a good cement for this purpose.

An effectual mode of preserving cgs, is to oil then all over when fresh, and hy them in a box. Fill the box and turn them over every day. | Whatever you use frequently, buy by the quantity, especially whatever is obtained in bottles or boxes. For instance, a sweet oil bottle holds more than twice as much as a flask, but does not cost twice as much; or a large box of blacking is much cheaper and more convenient than the same quantity in small boxes.

True economy dictates the saving of every thing not wanted at present, but which may be useful hereafter. Hence, separate and suitable boxes, placed in very convenient situations, should be appropriated respectively to iron rivets, staples, sheet iron, old nails of different sizes, pieces of leather, twine, wrapping paper, rags, buttons, &c. They can then be readily found when wanted. Where books with common polished backs have had the polish rubbed off by chafing, it may be easily restored by rubbing them over with the white of eggs, and when dry, burnishing the leather surface with a rounded piece of ivory or other similar hard substance. Genesee Farmer.

AGRICULTURE.

From the Monthly Genesee Farmer.
THE FARMER'S DICTIONARY

OF TERMS USEFUL IN THE SCIENCE OF AGRICULTURE.

Continued from our last.

Beef.

Of all the knds of animal food used, it is believed there is none finer flavored, more easily digested, or more nutrutious than beef: certainly there is none more universally used as an article of human sustenance. To have beef in perfection it is necessary that the animal should be well fed; and that the beast should be disposed to take on fat at the points where it is of the most value; that the pasture should be clean and free from noxious weeds, or if stall fed, that the substances used for feeding should be sweet and such as will communicate no unpleasant taste to the flesh; and finally, if salted, that the pickle should be carefully made, containing salt enough to preserve the meet perfectly sweet, yet not enough to harden the lean meat to the consistence and color of mahogany. Dried beef, properly prepared is an excellent article, and should be found among the stores of every farmer. In the tropical regions beef is preserved by being cut, as soon as killed, into thin slices and thoroughly dried in the sun. Such beef in the language of the country is called jerked beef. In some parts of the world, particularly in Abyssina, beef is eaten raw. At a feast, the animal is tied to the door post; the flesh, cut from the living beast, is served to the guests, the muscles still quivering with life, and the more distinct this action, the more highly is the flesh esteemed.

Bitumen.

This is the name of a species in mineralogy, chiefly interesting as forming the basis of a large part of the

1

INCIDENTS OF HISTORY,

coals termed mineral coal, and article of vast importance hand placed close over the eye for a few minutes so as
to the arts, commerce, and comforts of life. It has ac- to render the eye dark, will show the dilation or contrac-
quired several names from its appearance in its different tion of the pupil, when no other convenient means of
states of consistency. Naptha is a fluid, of a yellowish excluding light are at hand. A horse blind in both eyes
tinge, transparent, and with a peculiar odor. It consists will usually have his ears in constant and rapid motion,
of carbon 82,20, and hydrogen 14.80. It is found in directing them in quick succession to every quarter, re-
many parts of the world. Petroleum is of thicker con- lying on hearing rather than sight; he will lift his feet
sistence than naptha, in some cases resembling in color, high as if he were stepping over some obstacle, when
and consistence, common tar. It is in this state that it there is actually nothing in the way. It is a common
is found in such vast quantities in the United States, saying that that wall-eyed horses are never blind. This
principally at the salines on the Kenhawa and Musk-is probaly an error; as there appears no difference in
ingum, at the depth of from 300 to 600 feet. It is also their structure to warrant such an inference.
found on the Olcan creek in this State, and is the article
known as Seneca oil. At Rainanhong in Birmah, is a
hill containing coal, in which more than 500 pits have
been dug for the collection of the petroleum, and from
which 400,000 hogsheads are taken annually. In boring
for salt in 1838 on the Tombigbee river in Alabama, at
the depth of 600 feet the miners struck a vein of petro-
leum, which, flowing over the top in immense quantities,
spread itself over the river for some fifty miles, and in
that state was set on fire, forming a striking and brilliant
spectacle. Compact bitumen, or Asphaltum, has lately
attracted much notice from a new application, which, in
connection with some other substances, has been made
of it in paving streets, where its durability has been found
to exceed granite. All the coal west of the Allegany
mountains is bituminous, and some large beds of it occur
on the east of this range.

Blast:

Death of Baron De Kalb.

Immediately on receiving news of his intended departure, we waited on the good old De Kalb to take our leave, and to express our deep regret at parting with him. "It is with great regret, my dear sir, that I part with you," said he, "because I feel a presentiment that we part to meet no more." We told him we hoped better things.

"Oh no," he replied, "it is impossible. War is a kind of game that has fixed rules, whereby, when we are well acquainted with them, we can pretty correctly tell how the trial will go. To-morrow, it seems, the die is to be cast; and, in my judgment, without the least chance on our side. The militia, I suppose, will, as usual, play the back-game; that is, get out of the battle as fast as their legs can carry them. But that, sir, you know, won't do for me. I am an old soldier, and cannot run; and I believe I have some brave fellows who will stand by me till the last. So when you hear of our battle, you will probably hear that your old friend, De Kalb, is at rest.

66

66

'No, no, gentlemen, no emotion for me, but those of congratulation. I am happy. To die is the irrevocable decree of Him who made us. Then what joy to be able to meet death without dismay! Thank God, this is my case. The happiness of man is my wish; that happiness I deem inconsistent with slavery. And to avert so great an evil from an innocent people, I will gladly meet the British to-morrow at any odds whatever."

A disease of plants, to which by different writers has been given the name of blight, blast and mildew. The latter, however, is evidently a distinct disease, and produced by different causes. Blast or blight has been divided into several varities, affecting plants in different ways, and with varying intensity. Among these may I never was more affected in my life; and I perceivbe mentioned blight originating from cold. The northed the tears in the eyes of General Marion. De Kalb or easterly winds of spring often produce this, by freez-saw them too; and taking us by the hand, he said with ing the tender shoots, or by retarding the flow of the a firm tone and an animated look— juices. Thus the young fruits are deprived of their nourishment, and fall from the stem. Blast or blight from sultry wet weather, originating contagious disease of plants, is another of the forms noted, and mildew sometimes seems to result from this cause. The blight which sometimes strikes the grain of whole districts would seem to be owing to atmospheric causes thus generated since the disease appears to follow, and be governed by the course of the winds. Blast from the want of nourishment, is another form of the disease but of which the cause is as usually obvious. Impoverished land, too great quantities of seed, or injudicious culture, may produce this blight, but in this country it is oftener observed as an effect of drought. Blast from fungi is the kind of blight which attacks grain also, and which has been erroneously attributed to particular plants, as the barberry bush, since the fungi on the leaves of this plant, and those that cause the blight in wheat are clearly distinct.

Blindness.

No animal is so subject to blindness as the horse, and in
most cases it can be clearly traced to the treatment they
receive. Severe drawing in the harness, or racing, eith-
er on the course or otherwise, will not unfrequently pro-
duce blindness, sometimes temporary, but often perma-
nent. An examination of the pupils of the eye will most
usually enable an observer to determine whether there is
blindness or not. If the pupils when exposed to light
after being in a dark stable, contract, the horse is not
blind; if they contract unequally, or one not at all, then
the vision is imperfect, or gone in one of the eyes. The

As he spoke, the fire flashed from his eyes, which seemed to me to demonstrate the divinity of virtue, and the immortality of the soul. We left him with feelings which I shall never forget, while memory retains her seat in my brain.

It was on the morning of August 15th, 1780, that we left the army in a good position near Rugeley's Mills, 12 miles from Camden, where the enemy lay. At ten that night orders were given to march and surprise the enemy, who had at the same time commenced a march to surprise the Americans. To their mutual astonishment, the advance of the two armies met at two o'clock, and began firing at each other. It was soon discontinued by both parties, who appeared willing to leave matters to be decided by day-light. A council of war was called, in which De Kalb advised that the army should fall back to Rugeley's Mills, and wait to be attacked.— Gen. Gates not only rejected this excellent counsel, but threw out an insinuation that it resulted in fear. Upon this the brave old man leaped from his horse, and placed himself at the head of his command, on foot, saying, with considerable warmth, "Well, sir, perhaps a few hours will show who are the brave."

As day-light increased, the frightened militia began to

THE RICHMOND COUNTY MIRROR:

A WEEKLY PAPER PRINTED ON STATEN ISLAND, DEVOTED TO SCIENCE, LITERATURE, & NEWS.

THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUM.

SELECT TALES.

From the Binghampton Courier.

THE TRIUMPH OF INNOCENCE.

A NOUVELLETTE-IN FIFTEEN CHAPTERS.

NEW BRIGHTON, APRIL 20, 1839.

Well, my good lady-I am a physician from Yankee land. It was my intention to have gone on farther west; but I will stop for the present here: the aspect of your town pleases me-I may be induced to become a resident."

a physician. Do stay with us you shall have a month's
board for nothin'."

The daughter here returned to the parlor, followed
by a negro servant, with coffee, cream, beefsteaks and
pan-cakes.

"Betty," said the matron, "this is Dr. you say was your name, sir?"

VOLUME III.-NUMBER XII.

his treatment, she was within a fortnight completely restored to health. The explanation now ensued. Frances had gone to the summer-house on the river bank, with no other compamions than her guitar and her dog, Fidele. While engaged in playing the instrument, her "Dear now, do tell! You a doctor! Well," said dog had scampered away to the river's side, and brought In one of the western states, about three miles west the old lady, throwing back her spectacles and looking flowers to his mistress (a trick he had been taught.)— of the spot where stands the now flourising town of superlatively wise. "I knew it all the time. I diskiv- Suddenly she heard Fidele bark furiously, and then L—, is a building which, though originally construc-ered something about you that made me think you was whine and scream as if in distress. She dropped her ted with an eye to taste and elegance, now bears the imguitar, and hastening to the shore, beheld a large catapress of a time-worn, dilapidated mansion. Situated on mount tearing her favorite to pieces. The huge animal a beautifully rising hillock, which sloped gently northfixed his eyes upon her-she was standing on the shelvwardly to a majestic river, whose graceful bend around ing brink of the stream-she was transfixed with terror its base, added to an imposing landscape beyond the opby the gaze of the animal-she could not move-she saw posite shore, rendered that delightful spot one of the what did the creature couched. prepared to spring upon her-she loveliest of Nature's sylvan retreats. Thirty years ago, felt herself falling-she heard the report of a gun-she alas! it was indeed a paradise. Under the roof of that "Montrose," replied the stranger, smiling at the man- saw no more! The remaining part of the story was mansion, and among the Arcadian groves that surroun- ner the old lady adopted to learn his cognomen. The told by Belinda. She had arrived in time to see the anded it, bloomed a flower surpassing in beauty its native landlady, guest and daughter now sat down to break-imal shot to the ground by the aim of Montrose, and to magnolia. That flower was Frances Cuthbert. Her fast, the good things of which were amicably stowed see the latter plunge into the river and rescue the drownfather, a widower, had been in his youth a resident of away by the doctor, whose enlivening conversation and ing girl from a watery grave. New England and had emigrated to the beautiful spot social bearing had already won the admiration of the above described, while Frances was yet an infant, hav-hostess-and who never failed to spice the interim being buried her mother, the wife of his youth, in the tween carving, dishing out, and eating, with elegant land of his fathers, on the banks of the Connecticut.-sayings, calculated to charm the good old lady and to Possessing wealth and an intelligent mind, he sought to charm her pretty daughter. adorn his now home with every thing which his taste or fancy suggested, and to spend his remaining years in tilling an adjacent farm, in the sports of hunting, and, when fatigued with these, to devote himself to his large and well-chosen library, and to the education of his beautiful daughter.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

Where's Frances?" enquired Mr. Cuthbert of his
house-keeper Belinda, as he returned from town, and
throwing himself in his arm chair, commenced smoking
his pipe with the most luxurious case imaginable.
"Gone to the summer-house on the bank oft he river,
sir. She took her guitar and Fidele with her."
"The romantic little baggage! Go, Belinda, send
her to her father instantly. I wish she would abate her
rambles after flowers and her summer-house serenades.

On a morning of September, in the year 19—, a stranger was seen to alight at the principal inn of the village of His demeanor was prepossessing-a noble frankness beamed on his countenance-his eye was rest-No good can come of it. Jess, full and expressive, and his rich voice and his easy, Belinda started to do the bidding of Mr. C. and the gentlemanly deportment particularly fascinated the land- latter again relapsed into a comfortable posture, and was lady, who threw open the door of her best parlor for his enjoying his pipe, when a scream from Belinda roused reception and bade her daughter haste and order break-him from his seat, and rushing to the porch, he beheld fast for the young gentleman. Betty modestly rose from the seat where she had been at one and the same time sewing and rocking the cradle, and retreating towards the door, raised her eye on the stranger, and blushing deeply, left the parlor.

his daughter, pale and death-like, borne in the arms of
a young man. Her garments were dripping with wa-
ter, and her hair, dishevelled and saturated, enveloped
the half of her face, while her head, infant-like, reposed
on the shoulder of the stranger. This was no time for
explanation. Parental affection and solicitude were
roused into action, and the almost lifeless Frances was

"Nigh on to about six years, Sir. But we've seen a hastily borne to her couch, while the agonized father,
nation deal of trouble since we left Connecticut."
And you were from that State?"

hurriedly thanking the stranger, exclaimed, "Heaven
preserve my child! There is no physician within two
hours' ride, and how to procure medical advice or assist-
ance I do not know.”

'Yes, sir. My husband determined to go west, to mend his fortins, and although he's been considerably prospered since we came here, yet, as I was a-sayin', we "If you will accept my advice, sir,” replied the stranhave seen considerable trouble. We lost all our chil-ger, "I think that the immediate application of ordindren but two. It's a pretty considerable smart place, sir, this is, but it's so onhealthy. Then we haven't no doctors, except Ingens and quacks. If we had a good physician in this place, sir, it would be a great blessin'.

ary restoratives will bring the young lady back to life
and animation—and with your permission, I will assist
you in your task.”

"You are a physician, then ?—thank God!-how op-
portune! I will give up the treatment of her case to
you, sir-and heaven send you skill, and my daughter
relief," sobbed the old man.

The father and daughter now joined in expressions of gratitude to the humane stranger, and on learning that he was about to locate himself in the adjoining village, declared their joy and a wish that he would frequently visit them,

CHAPTER IV.

Montrose now took up his residence with the landlady in the village of L-, opened an office, and soon found himself in possession of a prosperous business.— His intense application to the labor of his profession, and his endeavors to study out the causes of, and the remedies for the many epidemics which prevailed at that time, were crowned with success. He became a popular physician. He was a man of no ordinary talents, the son of an eastern farmer, (whose provident means enabled him to give his son a liberal education in one of the principal colleges-and possessed a dignity and elegance of manners which ensured him the respect of all. Having a disposition to visit the western country, and, if encouragement offered, to prosecute his profession there, he had gone thither; and we now see him reaping a rich reward for his study and toils. The village of L continued to thrive, and its aspect became more and more one of activity and enterprise. Montrose became a constant visiter at the house of Mr. Cuthbert. The old gentleman found pleasure in his conversation and society-and it was with feelings of the deepest gratification that he witnessed the growing attachment between him and his daughter. Frances Cuthbert had been reared beneath the roof of the present dwelling of her father. He had himself been her early instructor, but the two years previous to the time spoken of, had been spent by her at a boarding school in Virginia, from whence she had returned with a mind endowed with learning, and manners which had received the polish and spirit of refined accomplishments.

While at boarding school she was introduced to a young Spaniard, named Gonzalvo Hernandez, whose sister Agnes was attending the same school; with the latter of whom Frances had become somewhat intimate on account of the facility thereby afforded her in ob Montrose, whom the reader will now recognise as the taining a knowledge of the Spanish language, which young stranger, now put in action his utmost skill, in | was one of her studies. Gonzalvo Hernandez, like marestoring the almost drowned young lady-and under ny of his countrymen, possessed great manly beauty,

but also their usual propensities, avarice, cruelty and revenge. Frances saw but little of him before his return home, but the impressions which he had made upon her mind were those of dislike, if not loathing.

Two years after Montrose had established his residence at the village of L, Hernandez came there, and having letters from his sister to Frances, introduced himself into the family of Mr. Cuthbert by delivering them, and availing himself of this introduction, soon became a frequent visitor there. After a residence of a year in the village, during which he had continued his visits to the family of Mr. Cuthbert, he made proposals to the latter to marry his daughter, which were promptly rejected by both, not only on the ground of her engagement to Montrose, but from a dislike to the Spaniard, which they found impossible to repress. Stung to the soul by mortification and disappointment, Hernandez from that time vowed revenge against Mr. Cuthbert and Montrose.

CAAPTER V.

We must now introduce to our readers a new personage-Gilbert Jansen, Esq. Justice of the Peace of the Borough of

"A fellow by the hand of Nature marked

Quoted and signed to do a deed of shame."

This individual's character may be summed up by saying that he was a compendium of all that is unprincipled and iniquitous. He had amassed considerable property by every species of foul play; and his avarice did not scruple to take by extortion the bread from the mouth of the window and the orphan. The appointment he held had been obtained by shifting cunning and intrigue and he did not hesitate to render it subservient to the accomplishment of his miserly wishes. He had come to the village of L a few years before under somewhat suspicious circumstances, for rumor had been busy with his name. He had, however, contrived not only to elude the toils of justice, but to gloss over the dark spots upon his fame sufficiently to maintain a tolerably respectable standing as an inhabitant of L—.— Yet there were those who distrusted him at all timesamong whom were Mr. Cuthbert and Montrose,-and an event happened soon which confirmed them in their opinions of his character, and paved the way for the many disasters recorded in our tale.

and a voice which the robber well knew, commanded indeed, so artfully did the Spaniard contrive, that Mon-
him to stop. Muttering a hasty oath, which the ebulli-trose became quite prepossessed in his favor, and confi-
tion of thwarted villany suffered to escape him, the rob- ded many important secrets to him. He found that the
ber threw the treasure upon the ground, and darted up Spaniard was an intelligent and a somewhat agreeable
the rocks of the glen. Darkness prevented pursuit.- companion. The latter had travelled much in Europe
The new comer picked up the portmanteau, and ap- and America-and the fund of information which he
proaching the horse, found Mr. Cuthbert, who had re- possessed was listened to attentively by Montrose, who
covered from the stunning effects of the fall, standing let slip no opportunity of improving his mind. Hernan-
by it. As soon as they both spoke, Mr. Cuthbert was dez dwelt enthusiastically upon the beauties of his na-
rejoiced to recognize as his deliverer, doctor Montrose. tive country, Spain-her ruined castles, her moss-clad
The former was not much hurt, and with the assistance monasteries-her placid rivers-her beautiful valleys-
of Montrose, soon reached his home. The exclamation her hills covered with a thousand flocks. Now would
which escaped the robber at the time he was seized by he interest Montrose with a description of the bull-fight,
Montrose, sufficiently betrayed to him and also to Mr. and anon bring to mind the heroic achievement of some
Cuthbert a voice, as to the owner of which they could Castilian Knight.
not be mistaken. Their suspicions both fell upon the
honest individual, whom we have introduced in the com-
mencement of this chapter. They nevertheless thought
it would be prudent to wait for some further confirma-
tion of these suspicions.

"I have a relic of those days of knighthood to show you," said Hernandez, taking from his wrapper a beautifully wrought breast-plate, studded with silver stars, and edged with amethysts-" this," continued he, “was given me by a French soldier, who obtained it by plundering, with his comrades, a museum at Seville."

ly touched upon the achievements of his pilgrim ancestors in their encounters with the savage tribes that surrounded them.

The story of the attempted robbery having spread the next day, no individual was more struck with wonder Nor was Montrose at a loss to interest his visitor in and indignation than Justice Jansen, and no magistrate kind. He dwelt with pleasure on the events of the revwas so busy in endeavoring to seck out the offender.olution, and the history of New England. He modestHaving ascertained that a young man, a laborer, had been seen among the rocks of the ravine on the evening the offence was committed, he issued a warrant and had the young man brought before him. All that could be proved against him at his examination, was the fact above stated, which Jansen thought sufficient to put him on his trial; and was about to issue a mittimus for his confinement, when Mr. Cuthbert and Montrose entered the office and asked to be sworn in the matter. The justice was a little confused, but took their oaths. "What do you wish to say?" asked Jansen. "That the young man, the prisoner here, is not the man who attacked Mr. Cuthbert,” replied Montrose. "And how do you know that fact?" asked the Justice.

"His voice is different--and the size of his arm is much smaller than the robber's. I am prepared to judge for I seized the villain's arm," and Montrose bent a stern eye upon Jansen, and then upon his worship's

arm.

Jansen turned considerably pale, but recovering himself, enquired-" Did you know the robber's voice?"

"I am not prepared positively to swear that I do-yet I think I know it—at any rate, I know it was not the voice of that young man."

Mr. Cuthbert also gave it as his opinion that it was not the young man who attacked him, as the voice was not the same; and the Justice was compelled to discharge the prisoner.

"

"This weapon," said Montrose, producing a long dagger with an ivory handle, the extremity of which was fashioned to resemble a clenched hand, "has belonged to my ancestors for many generations. It first belonged to Henry Montrose, who was a Roundhead, and for some time a Colonel under Cromwell. You may perceive from its appearance, that it has seen some service. The shattered guard and that deep incision in the blade were produced by a mortal combat between my grandfather and an Indian chief, which resulted in the death of the latter. The chief, on that occasion wielded a ponderous tomahawk, while his opponent had no other weapon than this dagger, with which, by dexterity of management, he parried the blows of the tomahawk with such skill as finally to cut off the hand that wielded it, and then drove the blade home to the heart of the furious savage. I prize the old relic very highly, and have but recently had my name engraved on its handle."

Hernandez affected to listen to the recital of this tale, while a fiendish joy stirred in his bosom, and basilisk flashes shot forth from his eyes as he took the dagger and examined it. Just then, the tea-bell of the boarding-house rang, and the unsuspecting Montrose, taking the dagger and hastily throwing it into a half-opened drawer, asked his companion to excuse his absence, and departed, leaving Herdandez in his office. The Spaniard now approached the drawer where the dagger was thrown, took it out, and with a grim smile of satisfaction, he pltced it in his bosom, and immediately left the office.

Mr. Cuthbert was returning from an adjoining county, where he had been to dispose of a tract of land that he owned there. The proceeds of the sale had been paid to him in specie, which he now carried in his portmanteau upon the horse which he rode. His route toward home lay through almost an entire wilderness-a few squatter's huts only here and there relieving the eye of the traveller with the curling smoke which rose from the chimneys, and the light of whose windows faintly Jansen knew he was suspected--and it behooved him illumined the deep gloom of the forest when night had to put all his talents and knavery into action to roll back set in. Some fifteen miles distant from the residence of the tide which was so fearfully setting against him. Mr. Cuthbert, the road, which hitherto had been on a What should he do?" There was but one individual level plain, abruptly descended and passed through a long who possessed his confidence--and that was the Spanand deep ravine, overhung with beetling rocks, upon iard, Hernandez. The latter had been his boon companwhose summits the pine and the hemlock grew, shutting ion during his stay in the village, and had assisted and every glimmering of star-light from the view of the trav-planned and shared in the avails of their combined ras-ther, announcing the dangerous illness of his father, reoller on the road beneath. Mr. Cuthbert reached this place about nine at night. He had proceeded scarcely a hundred yards when his arm was seized by an unknown hand, and in an instant he was sent reeling from his horse. The robber proceeded to loosen the portmanteau from the saddle, to which it had been strongly fastened-but ere he had accomplished this, the clattering of hoofs on the rocky bottom of the ravine path sounded upon his ears, and with bungling haste he tore the leathern fastenings from the saddle, and had laid the treasure across his shoulder, when a stout hand was laid upon his arm,

cality. To Hernandez he went, and opened to him his
situation. He could not have found a more willing
friend in his extremity. Burning with jealousy and the
sting of disappointed affection, Hernandez was ripe for
any expedient that would ensure him revenge. Here,
then, in the chamber of Hernandez, in the darkness of
night, was formed the dire, the wicked conspiracy that
was to-But I anticipate.

CHAPTER VI.

Hernandez sought an acquaintance with Montrose, and soon became a constant lounger at his office; and,

CHAPTER VII.

That evening Montrose received a letter from his moquesting him to lose no time in setting out for New England, as he might then, perhaps for the last time, behold the face and receive the blessing of the best of parents. This letter was accompanied by one from his father's Solicitor, stating that in the event of his father's death, it would be necessary for Montrose to remain for some time for the settlement of his father's estate. Montrose received this intelligence with the deepest grief, and resolved to depart on the following morning for his native place.

After arranging a few matters preparatory to his de