thunder seemed to shake the earth to its foundation; and the darkness of the night, which rendered every object completely invisible, except when the fitful gleams of the vivid lightning illuminated the wide expanse, added to the unpleasantness of our situation. In vain did we wish that we had remained at the ferry-house all night; to return now were as dangerous as to go o'er: so we proceeded, and in something more than half an hour we made the shore, most of us in a state of ex haustion from the "pelting of the FACTS AND FICTIONS. No. II. WALTER JEFFERSON. (Concluded from p. 227.) Our readers will readily enter into the various feelings of Jefferson and his now-forgotten Rhoda. The former was basking in the sunshine of beauty and fortune; while the latter, a prey to a consuming dissappointment, seemed fast verging to a premature grave. The pangs of hopeless love had made such havoc in her form and mind, that sensitive indeed must that heart have been which could be warmed by the re LOVERS' sighs are favoured or dis- || ed her a higher interest in his bosom. appointed; yet the sun rises and sets without interruption. "The path of glory leads but to the grave," and so does the path of love; for time steals equally on with both. All this is very trite, but-but to our narrative. Shall we then once more detail all the pains and penalties of thwarted affection? or shall we jump at once to the denouement of our story? We have said, that even the indistinct form of Rhoda Woodyatt was scarcely present any longer to Jef-pulsive atmosphere that now played ferson's recollection; for the charms of Clarinda Rothchild had consigned her rival's form to the grave, as completely as the potent wand of the magician consigns the evil spirit to Walter Jefferson wooed Clarinda the Red Sea. Clarinda had made Rothchild: she was won, and they large strides in the affection of Jef- were married; and that day's sun ferson, or at least awakened in him which rose upon their happiness a strong desire to possess so charm- seemed, in spite of one untoward ing an object: not but her charms circumstance, inclined to shine on would have been disregarded by him, them for years. That circumstance had not weightier considerations gain-was this: at the wedding ceremony, around her. But, like the world, we will leave to her fate the mourn ing Rhoda, to worship the rising sun of the more fortunate Clarinda. to suffer the trifling cares of life to rob him of a moment's enjoyment. The morning which created a want was soon followed by the night of when Jefferson answered, "I will," the ring, which he was about to place upon the finger of his bride, slipt from between his fingers, and rolling from him, at length found conceal-gratification; and soon ceasing to ment under a stone, which covered a deceased mother and her child. Old crones started back, and shook their heads at this inauspicious omen; but the unwrung consciences of the happy pair were diverted from the inauspicious circumstance, by the necessity of seeking for another cincture, when one was borrowed from a goodly dame in the church, that was nearly large enough to inclose two fingers of the devoted Clarinda. The ceremony concluded, and the day was spent in that delightful harmony which the interchange of mutual kindnesses ever produces. Seated in the baronial hall of his wife's ancestors, and surrounded by every luxury, Jefferson could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses. He who but a few months since had no rent-roll to purchase a friend, now found hundreds ready to serve him; all eager to oblige, all with flattering unction upon their lips. Prosperity is seldom the time in which we choose to think of those we once knew in humble life, and he totally forgot his old friends. In the country he hunted, he shot, he coursed, and he fished. In town he purchased pictures, he dealt in virtu, and furnished a library; and in the never-exhausted spirits of his wife, and the blandishments of those around him, it appeared as if he had reached the goal of everlasting happiness. The common vexations of life he knew little of, not that he was exempt from them, but he had too much philosophy and too many pleasures to drive his thoughts into another channel, wonder how all these things could be, he accepted every proffered en joyment as his hereditary right. His days were occupied, or rather filled up, in the exercise of his profession, in the capacity of magistrate of his district; but though this was rarely taken up till every other amusement failed, it proved to him a source of no small satisfaction, and gave him a consequence among his fellowmen. Man without something to expect is miserable; but Jefferson's wife now gave indications that a little stranger might soon be expected to gladden his eye, and the pulse of the expectant father beat a somewhat quicker note: yet here his pleasure was comparatively moderate, although he had no fears for the result. Many men in his situation would have exclaimed, "Surely some sad reverse must come as a set-off to all this good fortune!" but spoiled by prosperity, he prepared not for the storms of adversity, which he never dreamed would reach him. } The most experienced nurse and the most fortunate accoucheur were retained; and what should occur to a woman like Clarinda, whose health and strength seemed capable of with standing any attack to which the human frame might be liable? He laughed at her fears, which indeed were not many, and at length the day arrived in which he was presented with a son, beautiful as parent could wish. The incessant knockings at the door told how numerous were the many anxious inquiries after the little stranger; while nurse, doling out health, as it appeared to those who wished to judge favourably, proved the forerunner of an alarming illness; and an incipient disease was preced the usual answer of "The child charm-piness. But, alas! this hectic of ingly, and the mamma as well as can be expected," anticipated the harvest of her half-crowns, and already saw the beautiful white and gold-edged coffee-cups, as they went the rounded by a cold, which, although at first of aunts, cousins, and nieces, with numerous other acquaintance; and, as if the good old lady herself had had a share in bringing the hopes of the family into the world, she chuckled as she beheld the child rolling in all its native beauty on cushions of exquisite workmanship. To lie idly on a costly bed, to have all one's wishes anticipated, and all one's whims complied with, seems charming. But Mrs. Jefferson was a better judge of real enjoyment: apparently fully restored to a state of convalescence, the knocker was untied, and the "Return thanks" duly circulated. "She was well enough to quit her room:" in vain her husband conjured, or nurse besought her; the former she laughed at, as not understanding these things; and the latter, stigmatized as an old twaddle, had only the relief of a " Marry, come up!" to sooth her choler. But leave her room Mrs. Jefferson insisted on; and she did leave her room. No harm accrued from this, though but a little month had elapsed since her confinement: she seemed above the ordinary consequences of her sex; and now nothing would satisfy her, but she would walk the lawn; she did this also with impunity; and the following evening the lake in the distance exposed its glassy bosom in so tempting a manner, that she determined on an aquatic excursion. As the boat cut the liquid stream, the delight which mantled her cheeks imparted a rosy hue, promising a long life and protracted hap unheeded by one who scorned to think herself ill from a trifle, now told her, that her health was no lon ger to be trifled with, and confined her to her bed. This illness, which had been so long smothered, burst out with violence, and in a few days terminated in the death of one who fancied that she was only now be ginning to live, or at least had commenced a new era of happiness. Where now was the splendid picture of felicity which Jefferson had painted so fancifully in his own mind? Unused of late to bear the shafts of adversity, this blow, which would have annihilated any other man, cast him into a deep sorrow, until diverted from it by the opening intellects. of the child which Clarinda had left to his care, and which called forth anew those energies that very rarely slumbered long in Jefferson's bosom. At best, however, his situation was that of splendid misery; and as he paced each gallery, lined with the effigies of barons bold, or red-cross knights, who seemed to frown upon him as if to ask, “How he dared to tread the halls and corridors of ancestors whose blood had never till now been crossed by that of plebeian race!" he sighed for a home in which he could feel more at ease. The grounds of his estate, beautiful and extensive as they were, owed no charm to his taste, for every thing had been done when he became their lord. Nay, the gentry around him, with whom he had so often acted friendship, he fancied no longer gave young lady's mother is hourly expected." Perhaps there is no situation so truly pitiable as hearing of the distress of persons whom we love, without the possibility of our being able to assist them. A thousand tender remembrances tormented poor Jefferson on this occasion: it seemed almost impossible that he should ever see her again, and her value increased accordingly; yet he hoped she might yet be his, and in his usual elasticity of mind, he commenced a journey to the scene of action. him the same welcome as when Clarinda moved the charm of every place. Seated one morning in a splendid boudoir, destroying papers which were no longer worthy of preservation, he stumbled upon a note written by her who, in early days, had been his only stay and comfort. What a torrent of feeling rushed through his mind! how did time and space seem annihilated when he recalled his early days with Rhoda! while the mental interjections of Is she alive? Where does she reside? Is she married? crowded one upon another for an answer. A swollen river, after overflowing its banks, is absorbed in the plain which it has lately deluged, and now proceeds with a steady even course; and Jefferson, when his violent emotions had found their own cure in exhaustion, recovered his usual regularity of mind. Still, however, he dwelt upon the last interrogation, Is she married? He determined to visit Edinburgh: it would restore his health; it would calm his mind; and the following week saw him preparing for his intended tour: it was not delayed in consequence of reading the following account in an evening paper: "On Tuesday evening last a dread-usually employed on such occasions, ful fire broke out in the street, followed by mourners, who paced Edinburgh; and such was the rapi- slowly behind; but the form of Rhoda dity of the flames, that a young lady met not his inquiring eye. Ah! was of the name of Woodyatt was com- it her corpse which they were followpelled to leap from a window threeing to the silent grave? Was it she stories high; and notwithstanding several persons held a blanket, &c. to break her fall, we regret to say that she was so violently bruised in her descent, that her life is supposed to be in considerable danger. What renders the circumstance more lamentable is, that the death of the Vol. IV, No. XXIII. On his arrival at the street, at the house of his old haunts, after five years' absence, the thousand circumstances which would have occupied his mind were quickly absorbed by the objects before him. He perceiv ed not indeed so much devastation as he had been led to expect; but the workmen were still busied on the dilapidations. But it was the melancholy appearance of a funeral, which issued from the house, that now struck him with the most acute anticipations of evil. He gazed with irresolution as he beheld a coffin borne on the shoulders of persons that was immured in that silent house? "Whose funeral is that?" at length he exclaimed impatiently to a careless bystander, who, in one little moment, plunged him into despair by the mention of the name of Woodyatt; and the next elevated him to the ecstasy of delight, by the RR aspiration of the simple word," Mrs. || and ill health, had made great havoc. Woodyatt." It was not then Miss Rhoda-was he sure?-No, it was her poor mother; for the young lady's recovery was daily expected. He had indeed arrived at a time when she most wanted consolation, and which indeed he alone could give her. Why then should we dwell on a finale which all our readers have anticipated? He beheld his Rhoda surrounded by her friends; but her personal attractions, which he had so often and so fondly depicted in his mind's eye, were not realized. Time had not stood still for her alone, but, assisted by misfortunes Thin and emaciated, she was the shadow only of what was once so fascinating: yet the same smile, when it did come, was as delightful as ever; and as it was her mind, and not her person alone, that had caused her to live in his memory, and to be now so much cherished when his Clarinda was no more, she soon ap peared to him as he once remem bered her. In proper time then Rhoda Woodyatt and Walter Jefferson were unit. ed, and having no children of their own, the offspring of Clarinda was cherished by both. ↑.. ANECDOTES, &c. HISTORICAL, LITERARY, AND PERSONAL. HUMANITY AND DELICACY OF AN AMERICAN INDIAN. sure nothing should disturb her. Having done this, he returned to his A PARTY of Delawares, in one of men, forbade them making a noise or their excursions during the Ameri- disturbing the sick woman in any can war, took a white female prison- manner, and told them that he should er. The chief, after a march of se- guard her himself during the night. veral days, observed that she was ail- He did so, and the whole night kept ing, and was soon convinced (for she watch before her door, walking backwas far advanced in her pregnancy), ward and forward, to be ready at that the time of her delivery was her call at any moment in case of near. He immediately made a halt on extreme necessity. The night passthe bank of a stream, where, at a ed quietly; but in the morning, as he proper distance from the encamp- was walking by the bank of the stream, ment, he built for her a close hut of seeing him through the crevices, she peeled barks, gathered dry grass and called to him and presented her fern to make her a bed, and placed babe. The good chief, with tears a blanket at the opening of the dwell-in his eyes, rejoiced at her safe deing as a substitute for a door. He then kindled a fire, placed a pile of wood near it to feed it occasionally, and also a kettle of water at hand, where she might easily use it. He then took her into her little infirmary, gave her Indian medicines, with directions how to use them, and told her to rest easy, and she might be livery. He told her not to be uneasy, that he should lie by for a few days, and would soon bring her some nourishing food and medicines to take. Then going to his encampment, he ordered all his men off a-hunting, and remained himself to guard the camp. He afterwards took great care both of mother and |