“Dejection pales thy rosy cheek,And steals the lustre from thine eye;The minutes of each tedious hour,Are mark’d by sad anxiety:“And all thy soft, endearing smiles,That spoke with such expressive grace,Alas! are fled, and only careIs seen upon that pensive face.”Thesublime works of nature had shed abroad their cheering influences, and the mild and salubrious breezes of spring had succeededtothe blustering gales of winter. The parents of Alida made preparation to return to the country. Alida’s father was declining in health. He had imparted to his son his wish for him to close and settle his mercantile affairs in the city, (as the times were dreary,) and return to the paternal estate. In the meantime, Albert’s assistance was necessary to alleviate his father, as he was now advanced in years, and had principally relinquished all public business, except attending to its calls only when requested in cases of emergency.Mr. Bolton had been with the family several days, and attended them on board the steamboat. One would scarcely suppose that so interesting anexterior as his, blended with highly polished manners, should not have made some impression on the mind of Alida if her heart had been disengaged. Besides, he was a person too amiable not to be esteemed. His ideas with regard to Alida were altogether sanguine. He believed, as soon as he should ask the consent of her parents, he would easily obtain his wishes. He considered his own fortune already sufficient, without seeking more in the din of business. And he possessed many other advantages which pleaded in his favour. With these hopes of assured success, he made proposals to her father. The manner in which her father replied to him was altogether discouraging, which excluded the hope of his ever gaining the hand of his daughter by his consent. This denial was a sensible cause of chagrin to Mr. Bolton, but yet it did not discourage him.The impatience sometimes of obtaining a thing which is refused to us, renders it still more desirable, and the heart is never in a greater flutter than when it is agitated with the fear of losing the object it most wishes to gain. Moreover, he believed that Alida was already interested in his favour, and he determined to suggest to her, the first opportunity, the plan to elope with him, and thus put it out of the power of her father to impede their happiness.The daywas calm and serene, and the air invigorating. The steam-boat floated slowly upon the waters in monotonous movement. There was music on board. A company of militia were going to the village of ——, where they usually paraded the town for several hours, took dinner at the hotel, and then returned again to the city.Alida remained on deck nearly the whole way, to be a spectator of the various, beautiful landscapes that presented themselves on the river, particularly at this season of the year. A gentle breeze sprung up as they passed the little islands at the entrance of the bay, on whose glassy surface the sun shone with meridian splendour, illustrating the peculiar beauty of the diversified scenery. In the course of a few hours they arrived at the village of ——, where they obtained a conveyance to take them on to their family residence, where they arrived some time in the afternoon.Although all nature was smiling around, and the variegated landscape never appeared more enchanting, birds of every description were seen chirping on the spray, and the trees resounded with their sportive melody, and Alida might still have been happy if she had never become acquainted with Theodore; yet while she had the appearance of serenity, she still cherished a secret uneasiness.She had never received any intelligence concerning him since they had last parted. She imagined herself altogether forgotten, as Bonville had frequently suggested. Besides, he had represented Theodore as worthless. Harrassed and oppressed by a thousand different conjectures, she could scarcely support herself under them with any degree of resignation.In this frame of mind, in serious meditation, she took a seat by the window. The sun was declining slowly beneath the horizon to gladden other regions. The spire of the village church was tipped with gold, and the resplendent rays reflected from the window dazzled the eye. Above was the azure vault variegated with fleecy clouds; beneath was nature’s verdant carpet. The little songsters of the adjoining grove were paying their tribute of praise in melodious strains. The bleating of the lambs, and the lowing of the milky train, re-echoed from the fields and valleys; while the gentle murmuring of the water-fall at the mill, with its rumbling cadence over the dam, was heard at a little distance. “How still is nature,” said Alida. “The sun has withdrawn his radiance, yet the gleam from yonder western sky bespeaks him still at hand, promising to return with his reviving warmth when nature is refreshed with darkness. The bay is already beginningto be silvered over by the mild rays of the queen of night. Gently she steals on the world, while she bestows on us her borrowed splendour. She lights the wandering traveller, she warms the earth with gentle heat. She dazzles not the eye of the philosopher, but invites him to contemplate and admire. Scarcely a breeze is stirring; the shadow of each tree remains undisturbed; the unruffled bay and river glide smoothly on, reflecting nature’s face. Again the attention is drawn, and the eye wanders to yon vast concave, where the mind follows in silent wonder, wandering among the planets, till, struck with beauty of the whole, it acknowledges ‘the Hand that made it is divine.’“Surely,” said Alida, “all nature conspires to calm the mind, to restore tranquillity, to soften every care and corroding thought. But what can ease the troubled mind, which, like the angry sea, after agitation by blustering winds, ’tis still tumultuous?” Where now, thought she, is Theodore? What sadness and difficulty may not his noble and generous spirit have had to encounter! His tender sensibility, his serene and pacific disposition, may have had numerous trials; and how unhappy he may be, who was ever ardent in his endeavours to communicate peace and happiness to others! When she reflected upon all his goodness, his zealous piety, his religioussentiments the same as her own, and recalled to her memory happier days, when she had listened with pleasure to the powerful eloquence of a corresponding spirit. And her esteem for him rose higher, while he commented on religious truths, and bade her place a firm dependence on Divine Providence. Amid these uneasy sensations, which filled the bosom of Alida with anxiety and grief, and left her mind in a state of despondency, the period arrived for the celebration of her father’s birth-day, which brought with it, as usual, much company from the city, from the neighbouring village, with the parish minister and his family.After her several sisters had arrived, and nearly all the company had collected, Alida entered the drawing-room with spirits somewhat re-animated. Bonville was already there. He arose and handed her to a seat. He accompanied the first salutations with many flattering compliments, but with all his endeavours to win her favour, he could not awaken even a temporary regard in the bosom of Alida. In the meantime, she had full leisure to observe his singular behaviour, to listen to his insinuating address, to hear him mention the name of Theodore, and when he observed her feelings were excited, to hear him suddenly change the subject. He sometimes appeared to regard her with an eye of pity,but it arose from a consciousness of his own errors, bordering on baseness. He felt unhappy at his own want of integrity, and his heart reproached him with injustice and treachery.CHAPTER XVII.A polished mien, with elegance of mind,A winning grace, with taste and sense refined,A kindly, sympathizing heart, sincere,The gloomy scene, the pensive thought to cheer.Ina series of events, a period at length arrived, which manifested to mankind, in a more melancholy degree, the shocking consequences and devastation of war, the overwhelming sorrow that is brought on families for the loss of friends, with the discouraging embarrassments attending all kinds of business.A severe engagement had recently taken place within half a mile of the Niagara cataract. General Scott, on his arrival at Niagara Falls, learned that the British were in force directly in his front, separated only by a narrow piece of wood. He soon pressed through the wood, and engaged the British on the Queenstown road. He advanced upon the enemy, and the action commenced at six o’clock in the afternoon, and continued with little intermission until twelve at night. The thunder of the cannon, the roaring of the falls, the incessant discharge of artillery during the six hours in which the parties were in combat, heightened by the circumstance of its being night, afforded such a scene as is rarely tobe met with in the history of the wars of nations. The evening was calm, and the moon shone with lustre when not enveloped in clouds of smoke from the firing of the contending armies. Taking into consideration the numbers engaged, few contests have ever been more sanguinary. The battle was one of the most severe that had been fought during the war. The British troops engaged in this action amounted to 5000 men; many of them were selected from the flower of Lord Wellington’s army. Colonel Miller’s achievement, in storming the battery, was of the most brilliant and hazardous nature, and entitled him to the highest applause among the Americans.The measures of the president relative to the war were of such a nature as greatly to draw upon him the approbation and gratitude of the nation. He early began to turn his mind to a contemplation of the general politics of his country. He, therefore, became advanced in the requisite qualifications to assume and maintain the important station he held over it. He had imbibed an attachment for civil liberty almost from his infancy, which influenced his every action. He was of a pacific temperament, and pursued those measures as long as they would answer. But when it became actually necessary for him to recommend to congressto pursue a different course, it was then that the benefactor of his country endeavoured to concert measures still to preserve America as an asylum for civil and religious liberty. He possessed qualities well calculated to fulfil the duties of his high station with honour to himself and justice to the community. He was dignified in his deportment, kind, generous, and condescending; a patron to science; a uniform promoter of honourable enterprise, but an enemy to every thing dishonest, hypocritical, and disingenuous. And, as a Christian, he firmly adhered to the gospel, and regulated his life by its precepts and injunctions, in a consistent and exemplary manner. This illustrious president had the good fortune to be blessed with a consort whose qualifications in her particular capacity were no less adequate to fill with dignity her elevated station. The parents of Mrs. Madison were natives of Virginia. Their daughter was educated in Philadelphia among the Friends. She was, therefore, little indebted to acquired graces and accomplishments for the admiration and regard which followed her wherever she was known. To much personal beauty she added a warm heart and a benevolent disposition—charms and attractions which won for her not only admirers but friends, and exalted her to high eminencein the public estimation. Her naturalandacquired endowments she carried into society with such pleasing manners and graceful demeanour, as produced almost universally an impression highly favourable to herself among the citizens of Washington. Her society was much esteemed in all the companies she frequented. Her mental powers were of a superior grade, and the effects of genuine piety and Christian benevolence distinguished all her actions. To these she added an amiability of temper, the polished address of a lady, with a conversation both pleasing and instructive. Her deportment to all was prepossessing, by the affectionate manner in which she addressed them separately, and the interest she manifested in their welfare. In these she showed no difference between the rich and the poor, and devoted much of her time to the cause of charity. She was eminently distinguished for her amiable qualities, and a peculiar versatility of talent in her conversation and manners. She entertained the numerous friends and guests of the president with cordial hospitality. She treated her husband’s relatives with regard and kindness; and in the president’s house, whenever there were female guests, Mrs. Madison always presided.After the president’s, the house of the secretaryof state was the resort of most company. The frank and cordial manners of its mistress gave a peculiar charm to the frequent parties there assembled. All foreigners who visited the seat of government, strangers from the different states of the Union, the heads of departments, the diplomatic corps, senators, representatives, and citizens, mingled with an ease and freedom, a sociability and gaiety to be met with in no other society. Even party spirit, virulent and embittered as it then was, by her gentleness, was disarmed of its asperity.Individuals who never visited the president’s dwelling, nor met at the other ministerial houses, could not resist the softening influences of her conciliatory disposition, with her frank and generous manners. She was constantly receiving and reciprocating civilities in the most kind and friendly manner with the inhabitants of Washington. The president, being wholly absorbed in public business, left to Mrs. Madison the discharge of the duties of social intercourse. And never was woman better calculated for the task. Exposed as she necessarily was, in so conspicuous a situation, to envy, jealousy, and misconstruction, she so managed as to conciliate the good-will of all, without offending the self-love of any of the numerous competitors for her favour and attention. Every visiter left herwith the pleasing impression of being an especial favourite, of having been the object of peculiar attention. She never forgot a name she had once heard, nor a face she had once seen, nor the personal circumstances connected with every individual of her acquaintance. Her quick recognition of persons, her recurrence to their peculiar interests produced the gratifying impression in each and all of those who conversed with her that they were especial objects of regard. The house was very plainly furnished, and her dress in no way extravagant; and it was only in hospitality and charity that her profusion was unlimited. The amiable and engaging qualities which have been here described, characterized Mrs. Madison in her husband’s public life. In the midst of the bitterness of party spirit, and the violence of political animosity, she was mild and courteous to all. The political assailants of her husband she treated with a kindness which disarmed their hostility of its individual rancour, and sometimes even converted political enemies into personal friends, and still oftener succeeded in neutralizing the bitterness of opposition.At this period her courage and firmness were put to a severe test. In August, 1814, the British troops landed forty miles below Washington, andapproached that city. The president left the city to hold a council of war. Before his departure he anxiously inquired if she had courage or firmness to remain in their house until his return on the morrow, or succeeding day. She assured him she had no fear but for him and the success of the army. When the president reached Bladensburgh he unexpectedly found the two armies engaged. Meanwhile terror spread over the city—all who could obtain conveyances fled to the adjoining towns. The sound of the cannon was distinctly heard, and universal confusion and dismay prevailed. Some personal friends who remained with Mrs. Madison, strongly urged her to leave the city. They had her carriage brought to the door, but could not persuade her to enter it till her husband should return, and accompany her. And she did not finally depart till several messengers had been despatched to bid her fly. Much as she graced her public station, she was not less admirable in domestic life. Neighbourly andcompanionableamong her country friends, as if she had never lived in a city, delighting in the society of the young, and never better pleased than when promoting every youthful pleasure by her participation;—she still proved herself the affectionate consort, without neglecting the duties of a kind hostess, and a faithfulfriend and relation. She smoothed and enlivened, occupied and appeased, each varying scene of life. Her husband knew, appreciated, and acknowledged the blessing which heaven had bestowed on him, in giving him such a companion.CHAPTER XVIII.And many an aching heart at rising morn,A sad memento of the day that’s past,From long protracted slumbers, slowly drawn;From wearied spirits—with a gloom o’ercast.Allbusiness of importance, at this time, was in a manner suspended in New-York; the face of things wore a dismal aspect, and the greater part of the community were in dismay; occasioned by the continuance of hostilities with Great Britain. All appeared in a declining state, discouraging to the industry and best prospects of the inhabitants;—and although there had been some rumours of peace, it was not yet concluded.A severe battle had lately taken place at New-Orleans, in which the Americans were victorious. Another was fought some little time afterwards on Lake Champlain. The British fleet, with 1050 men approached Plattsburgh, while the American fleet were lying off that place. The British fleet bore down upon them in order of battle, commanded bysirGeorge Prevost, Governor General of Canada. Commodore Macdonough, the American commander, ordered his vessels to be cleared for action, and gallantly received the enemy. Theengagement was exceedingly obstinate. After a contest of two hours, the British ships and several sloops of war fell into the hands of the Americans. Before sunset the temporary batteries of the enemy were all silenced, and every attempt to cross from Plattsburgh to the American works was repelled. At nine o’clock the object was abandoned, and the British general hastily drew off his forces. Large quantities of military stores were left behind, and fell into the hands of the Americans.The people of the United States were at this time divided into two political parties; one party condemned the war as unwise and unnecessary; the other contending that the war was just, and necessary, for the maintenance of national honour. The opposition to the war was the greatest in the New England states, and during its continuance this opposition was confirmed. Enlistments of troops were in some instances discouraged, and dissentions arose between the general and state governments, respecting the command of the militia, called out by order of the former, to defend the sea-board. Accordingly the legislature of Massachusetts appointed delegates to meet and confer with the delegates from the states of New England, or any of them, upon the subject of their public grievances and concerns. The delegatesmet at Hartford, Connecticut, in 1815, and sat nearly three weeks with closed doors. This convention consisted of delegates from the state of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island; two members from New Hampshire, and one from Vermont. After their adjournment, the convention published an address, charging the nation with pursuing measures hostile to the interest of New England, and recommended amendments to the Federal Constitution. The report of the Hartford Convention concluded with the resolution providing for the calling of another convention, should the United States refuse their consent to some arrangements,—whereby the New England States, separately, or in concert, might be empowered to assume upon themselves the defence of their territory against the enemy. The committee appointed to communicate these resolutions to Congress, met at Washington the news of peace: and owing to this event, another Convention was not called. And may it never be the fate of America, to be again involved in hostilities with her mother country, from whence is derived her revered religion;—each nation possessing towards the other reciprocal fellow-feelings, becoming Christian brethren.How shall we to his memory raiseA theme that’s worthy to record;The tribute of a nation’s praiseIn grateful accents sent abroad.Let eloquence his deeds proclaim.From sea-beat strand to mountain goal;Let hist’ry write his peaceful name.High on her truth-illumin’d scroll.Let poetry and art through earth,The page inspire, the canvass warm,In glowing words record his worth.In living marble mould his form.A fame so bright will never fade,A name so dear will deathless be;For on our country’s shrine he laidThe charter of her liberty.Praise be to God: his love bestowedThe chief, the patriot, and the sage;Praise God! to him our father owedThis fair and goodly heritage.The sacred gift time shall not mar.But wisdom guard what valour won,While beams serene her guiding star,And glory points to Madison.CHAPTER XIX.O, glorious prospect, see the smile benign,Of heav’n-born peace, refulgent spread its rays;To peace and concord, may the world incline,And these our later be our happier days.Somelength of time had elapsed since the parents of Alida had taken up their residence in the city for the winter, when the news of peace reached New-York. The cries of peace resounded throughout the city at these joyful tidings,—and the evening of this day was celebrated by a splendid illumination. Transparencies, emblematical of the liberties of the country, were exhibited at all the public edifices. The fine and melodious music in the Park, drew the people together in crowds within the inclosure, till scarcely another could enter,—and although the snow had fallen profusely, and the walking was extremely bad, yet it seemed as if all the inhabitants, generally, were out, parading on foot, to witness the general rejoicing.In the mean time, a visible change for the better took place almost immediately, and these happy effects shed their benign influence throughout all ranks of society, and among all classes ofthe people. Those who had been in despair on account of the times, had now the charming prospect before them of returning happiness and prosperity, when the active scenes of life would again impel the multitude to the exercise of laudable industry, whereby they might ultimately realize the success and proceeds attending on an honest perseverance in business.The country that had been unwillingly drawn into combat had been victorious, and its inhabitants left in peaceful possession of the warrior’s field. An honourable peace had been concluded, and happy tranquillity was once more the fate of the American nation.The miseries and unhappy grievances occasioned by war, were again at an end, and happily terminated. The cheering consequences of peace again communicated their happy effects among the people, awakening to their imagination new hopes and prospects, filling their minds with exultation, and anticipations the most sanguine.The painful, unpleasant effects of discord, animosity, and contention, were now changed to the exercise of those better qualities and dispositions, more pacific and praiseworthy. The scenes of fury, terror, and confusion, were succeeded by those of placid serenity. The hours but a shorttime before spent in moping melancholy and sadness, in individual discouragement and wo, were now passed in listening to musical serenades, in scenes of mirth and festivity. The people whose independence had been gloriously won, nearly half a century before, by the superior prowess of a renowned hero,*who, as a general, marshalled the peasant into a veteran, and supplied by discipline the absence of experience, and through the vicissitudes of a protracted conflict displayed a magnanimity that defied misfortune, and a moderation that ornamented victory.*Washington.America, already revered in the annals of fame, now saw her rights again secured to her by the charter of her liberties. With the view before her of witnessing again the subsequent advantages of free trade and commerce; while her swelling canvass shall be spread over the seas of distant nations, and her star-spangled banner shall proclaim to them her liberty—glory and honour shall kindle in the bosom of the patriot at the name of her Madison. While the wealth of her commerce, the renown of her arms, the fame of her philosophy, the eloquence of her senate, and the inspiration of her bards, shall cause her to emergefrom her horizon, and shine with splendour over the vast expanse of the universe, claiming from remotest regions the respect due to her superiority. Happy America! thy freedom is once more ensured to thee, and thy hero has turned upon the vanquished only the retribution of his mercy.CHAPTER XX.Charmed by returning pleasure’s gentle voice,Each waken’d sense with new-born rapture beats;The adverse heart the welcome stranger greets,And bids each trembling nerve again rejoice.Thepatriotic feelings of Alida’s father partook in the general joy and satisfaction of the community, and he soon turned his attention to celebrate the event of the late peace with tokens of rejoicing. Numerous were the company that collected at his house on the day set apart for this purpose. The dwelling was illuminated, and the guests assembled at an early hour in the evening on this joyful occasion.Unaffected pleasure enlivened the scene, and presided throughout the assembly; light-hearted wit broke forth in a thousand brilliant sallies, while unfeigned joy heightened the flush on the cheek of youth, and smoothed the furrows on the brow of age. Nor did the sprightly fair ones, with the gay young gentlemen, fail to exert themselves to enhance the present felicity of the company. The gaiety of the scene, the flow of general joy, the sight of so many happy people, the countenances of the happy parents in witnessing the innocentmirth of their children, with the benevolent looks of the noble bestower of the entertainment, formed altogether a scene which failed not to fill the heart with sensations the most pleasing and satisfactory.Mr. Bolton was occupied in attending the ladies generally, while a genuine witticism occasionally mingling with his discourse, gave one no mean opinion of his understanding, and increased their admiration of his talents. He was well calculated to please; there was something remarkably graceful in his exterior, and he exerted himself this evening particularly to assist Alida to entertain the numerous visiters.Bonville endeavoured in various ways to attract attention. He was extremely humorous and gay, and the whole party was enlivened by his vivacity. He described the folly of some of the prevailing fashions of the town with sarcastic pleasantry, and related many anecdotes of the gay world and fashionable life, interesting to those who had lived in retirement. Alida could not but listen with some degree of pleasure to his amusing conversation, and the pleasing allusions he frequently made gradually drew the attention of the whole company.Albert selected from the rest an interesting young lady, to whom he directed the most of hisattention, while she, pleased with his politeness, exerted all her conversational powers to entertain him. His father was much pleased to see his son endeavour to make himself agreeable in ladies’ society; he thought it augured a good sign, and would be conducive to meliorate and refine his manners. He had long wished him to close his affairs of business in the city, and settle himself on the paternal estate. He was anxious that he should seek out an amiable companion, of pious principles and exemplary manners, of genuine goodness and benevolence, in whose deportment was mingled the rays of mildness, amiability, and cheerfulness; well-meaning towards all, blended with an unaffected ease and politeness, joined with the usual accomplishments to complete the character of a lady.An unusual degree of innocent amusement prevailed throughout the circle on this evening of general joy, and all were more or less enlivened and cheered by its salutary effects, except Mr. More, who, in the midst of music and mirth, remained sad and melancholy; despondent reflections at times deeply disturbed his tranquillity. In the midst of these scenes of festivity, he was serious and thoughtful; gloomy ideas would in spite of himself cloud his imagination, whenever his thoughtsforeboded the fear of losing the only object of his affection.The elderly gentlemen had a long consolatory conversation on the present affairs of the country, and their happy termination; the wisdom of the government and its coinciding regulations, concluding that the late peace, founded on principles of justice and honour, promised to be lasting.These festive scenes of gladness were concluded by a variety of music, both vocal and instrumental; the powerful influence of which all must acknowledge; which is alike visible in all places, and in every stage of society. And while it flings its spell over the gay abodes of pleasure, it produces likewise its sweet enchantment in the domestic dwelling. The ladies alternately played the piano, while the gentlemen assisted in singing, forming altogether a concert of melodious harmony that wakened the mind to the softest raptures, and threw its bewitching influences over the imagination, calming all former corroding sensations, and animating anew all the soft and sympathetic emotions.Music! wake thy heavenly numbers,Queen of every moving measure,When at thy voice all sorrow slumber,Sweetest source of purest pleasure!Who listens to thy varying strains,Will find their bosoms gently sooth’d,Lulled to repose all cares and pains,And waked to sympathy and love,That calms with soft persuasive airThe heart to harmony and peace.If any grief yet linger there,But touch thy chords and it will cease.Who does not feel their bosoms glow,When the full choir their voices raise,To the Supreme of all below,Pour forth their song of ardent praise?Each heart by sacred impulse driven,To high exalt his glorious name,Loud hallelujahs raise to heaven,And with one voice His praise proclaim.Then music, queen of every art,O still thy matchless powers employ;Since none like thee can peace impart,And none like thee awaken joy.CHAPTER XXI.’Tis true indeed, there’s danger in delay,Then let us speed, and hasten far away;For what of fear, or what of doubts molest,When deep affection reigns within the breast.Severalweeks now passed away without any material occurrence, and the season of the year came round when the winter’s snow was passing from the face of nature, succeeded by heavy showers of rain, and the days had become more pleasant, because they were something longer. The air was more salubrious, and invited the citizens to inhale its healthful draught without their dwellings, where they had been several months in a manner shut up from the inclemencies of the cold season.One morning after the family had taken breakfast, they sat talking over late events and recent occurrences that had varied so materially within the last three months. In this conversation, they were unmindful of the hour, until Mr. Bolton, without ceremony, (as was his custom,) entered the breakfast parlour. After the usual salutations to her parents, and conversing some time with his aunt, he addressed Alida with his native pleasantry,relating to her some stories of the satirical order as the current news of the city. He afterwards informed her of the conversation between himself and her father, and in what manner the latter had replied. Alida remained silent, with her eyes fixed upon the floor, as if revolving in her mind what to say. In the meantime, he did not await her reply, but entreated her in the most pathetic language to consent to elope with him, and at all events to unite her destiny with his; at the same time telling her that implicit obedience to a parent’s will, in an affair that so materially concerned her happiness, could not be expected, and that her father was much to blame in attempting to control her liberty of choice; saying, moreover, that after their views should be accomplished, that he had no doubt whatever of his reconciliation. He had lately received intelligence of the death of an uncle in Savannah, who had bequeathed to him his fortune. He was preparing for his departurethence. He would not, therefore, give up his former project, and thought to avail himself of this opportunity, (by all the rhetoric he was master of,) to urge Alida to accept him and accompany him on his journey. He even proposed whither they should escape from the eye of her father for the performance of the marriage ceremony.Alida was truly shocked and surprised at a proposition so unexpected from Mr. Bolton, after he had known her father’s decision. She had never considered him in any other light than as a brother; and being a connexion in the family, they had always been on terms of friendly intercourse. She, therefore, would have avoided this meeting if she could have had previously an idea of the result.After he had made to her these several propositions, her displeasure held her for some time silent, while it affected her mind sensibly. Nevertheless, she endeavoured to recover herself to answer him in a decided, and, at the same time, in a manner compatible with her present feelings. She commenced urging him to endeavour to forget her in any other light than as a friend. “Can you suppose, Mr. Bolton,” said she, “that I would set a parent’s will at defiance, by committing so unwary an action as to dispose of myself in a clandestine manner, nor could you again imagine that I would give my hand where my heart has no particular regard.” She scarcely uttered this, and could say no more ere he conjured her not to shut her heart against him for ever, and entreated her to permit him still to hope that after a while her compassion might become awakened to the remembranceof a sincere, true, and constant heart, which would cause her to heave the sympathetic sigh for one who could never eradicate her from his memory, even for a moment, or chase from his bosom the esteem and love that time could neither weaken nor extinguish. He was extremely sorrowful in taking leave of Alida and the family, and set out the ensuing day on his journey.Alida felt unhappy at the earnest importunities of a person she could not but have some esteem for. She could not fail to admire the superior powers of his mind. In his conversation, he was all that was agreeable, entertaining, and improving, which abounded with sallies of wit and humour, joined to a fund of erudition acquired by a collegiate education. He was particular to associate only with young men of merit, talents, and genius. He possessed a native vein of satire, which he sometimes indulged with much effect; though, however, he had this dangerous weapon under such thorough discipline, that he rarely made use of it in a way which gave offence to any. He never accumulated any wealth by his own exertion, as he thought what he already inherited was more than sufficient for all his wants. He seemed not to seek for an abundance, like many others, as necessary to his happiness, thinking that, with contentment, the peasantis greater than the prince destitute of this benign blessing, and that a competency, rather than a superfluity, could convey real happiness to man. He thought, that to the improper pursuit after happiness could be attributed much of the misery of mankind; daily he saw dread examples of this serious truth, that many, in grasping at the shadow, had lost the substance. A near relative had now been bountiful to leave him a fortune. That, however, he was thankful for, as it increased his fund for charitable purposes. His intention was to get possession of this and return to the city of New-York, to make it his permanent residence.CHAPTER XXII.Behold the beauteous scene, to fill the mind with wonder and delight;—the varied land and water prospect;—from whence the arm of Commerce sends her store, to nations far remote;—adjacent to a city, that’s wealthy, large, and flourishing.Thegenial warmth of the air had now animated anew the magnificence of nature’s works, and the verdant scenery of spring decked the landscape with all its resplendent colouring and variety. As the season advanced, all classes of people had recourse to their favourite walk on the Battery, either for pleasure, or as an alleviation from the toils and cares of business. This healthy promenade drew together a number of the citizens in the morning, but many more resorted there in the evening, and a numerous throng here regaled themselves, and rested from the busy, bustling occupations of the day;—and at the same time were spectators of the most splendid scene imaginable. When the sun had gone down beneath a clear horizon, and the moon had risen in silent majesty, dispensing her light over the unruffled face of the Hudson, decorated with a numerous sail, representing an inimitable landscape, sublime and beautiful.Alida walked out one evening, and repaired thither, attended by Mr. More. It was six o’clock when they reached the Battery, and a numerous concourse of people had already collected there. The mild rays of the setting sun were just visible above the horizon, and cast a soft lustre over the adjacent landscape, when they entered Castle-Garden to contemplate more nearly the surrounding scenery.They seated themselves here, while they discoursed on the beauties of nature, and the wonders of creation,—descanting on the goodness and bounty of that ineffable Being, from whom all our blessings flow;—the continual succession of so many various objects, to fill the mind with rapture and enthusiasm, and strike us with veneration and awe.The beauty and mildness of the present season, the copious showers, that caused the earth to abound with teeming verdure; all of which drew the contemplative genius insensibly to consider the benevolent purposes, for which all these varieties are called forth in such abundance, to excite the gratitude of man, and furnish a perpetual source of pleasure and delight. “And can we,” said Alida, “who are conscious of deriving our existence from a Being of such infinitegoodness and power, properly entertain other prospects than those of happiness, when we experience so many blessings daily, to excite our thankfulness.”Mr. More expatiated on the pleasure there must be in passing a tranquil life with a beloved object, turning hisinsidiouseyes towards Alida as he spoke; he seemed to say, that she was the being, with whom he could be able to realize all the exalted ideas he entertained of such a life; and to point out beauties, and furnish amusement, to a refined taste like hers, would be to him one of the highest pleasures he could possibly experience. When he declared to her his esteem and affection, with his native sincerity, he seemed to be convinced, at the same time, that she was favourably disposed towards him.On the contrary, she was evidently much embarrassed at this declaration. She remained silent, and looked upon him with a degree of pity mingled with regret; then casting down her eyes, she appeared greatly confused. She could not make any returns in his favour, and the amiable Alida felt extremely sorry to give pain or uneasiness to the friend and school companion of an only brother. She had received him with complacency on that account, which had served to increase his ill-fatedpartiality. She felt that she could not give one word of encouragement, yet she did not wish to drive him to despair.The band of music now began to play in the garden. They commenced with the celebrated air of the Star-Spangled Banner, and continued playing different pieces for the space of several hours.As soon as the music ceased, they left the garden to return home, and all the people now apparently thronged out of the gates with as much avidity as they had entered them some hours before. When they arrived at the dwelling of Alida, they found that the time had whiled away, and that the evening had progressed to a late hour.On his way home the mind of Mr. More was absorbed in the following reflections. “When I told her my affection, the blush was diffused over her cheek—and the tear of sensibility started in her eye. She evinced her regard by silent expressions, which she has shown repeatedly in many proofs of interested friendship, accompanied by the softness of her winning manners, and the engaging mildness of her disposition. Bonville is her declared admirer—but he may not be a favoured one. Should he meet with her approbationat any future time, would not his own fate be wretched, and the universe would become a blank deprived of the society of Alida, shaded over with the deepest tints of darkness and melancholy.”CHAPTER XXIII.O let me view, in annual succession, my children, friends, and relatives. Those that in friendship’s bonds are linked together by ties of dear remembrance.Thescene was highly animated, and the days were delightfully pleasant, when Alida returned with her parents to the country. The showers of April had cleared the atmosphere and revivedtheearth with a lively gaiety. The ice in the bay and river had melted away, and the steamboat had again began its course. The rumbling water-fall was again heard at the mill, the pensive stream stole its way through the forest, reflecting from its lucid bosom the light cloud which dwelt in the air—floating on the gentlest zephyrs. The hills and mountains teemed with verdure, and the serpentine valleys were shaded by a friendly foliage. All nature flourished, grew, and expanded, calling forth ejaculations of gratitude and piety, and boldly declaring that a celestial Being overshadows us with his providence.As soon as the family were settled in the country, the parents of Alida made preparation to call the children together in commemoration of their father’s birthday.When the time arrived for thecelebration of this festive scene, the morning arose with every beauty that could bid fair for a cheerful day, and the company assembled at an early hour. Bonville was among those who arrived from the village. He appeared in excellent spirits, as if some new thought had entered his mind, which had given him new hopes of success. He informed Alida, in the course of the afternoon, that he had received intimation from a friend in England, that Theodore was now living in London. After hazarding many conjectures respecting him, he then ventured to add that he hoped he had not met there any new object, to cause him to become forgetful of former friends. Displeasure was manifest in the countenance of Alida, at this suspicion, although she feared it might be true. Theodore had promised to be faithful in a correspondence, and he certainly might have found opportunities, since the happy change of affairs in the country, to make some communications to his friends, if he had been so disposed. Again she thought, as they had been separated by parental authority, that it might have its influence to cause him to become altogether forgetful; and her spirits now sunk under the idea of Theodore’s inconstancy. Bonville continued to speak of him with indifference, observing attentively how Alida was affected. He inquired earnestly if she had ever received anyintelligence from him, during his absence, (as he thought he might have written to her brother.) She answered him in the negative. He expressed his surprise, and after giving many dark intimations of his perfidy, he changed the subject.Alida was before this extremely pensive and thoughtful, and these injurious insinuations of Theodore, increased her dejection. She once firmly believed she had a friend she could lean upon under all circumstances, and his falsity appeared to her now confirmed. A kind of gloomy superstition pervaded her mind, an anxious foreboding of future evil, which all her pious reflections and reasoning powers could not wholly control. She endeavoured to repress these painful sensations, when in the presence of her parents; but the eyes of her father frequently rested on her in filial anxiety. Her brother likewise would often observe her innate sadness, and whatever his thoughts might be as to the cause, he was still reserved, and forebore to name any thing to his sister.Although Bonville was sometimes conscious of his injustice towards Theodore, and felt ashamed of his conduct, he was still determined to proceed with reiterated calumnies, to the ear of Alida, with the hope to ensure to himself her hand before Theodore would probably return to America.L’ innocenza a e costretta a sofferire, talvolta le più crudeli persecuzioni; ma, con vergogna e con danno della calumnia e della malvagità, alla fine pur ne trionfa.The appearance of Bonville was imposing to look upon, his countenance illumined by seeming sincerity and candour, no one could retain an idea for any length of time, that was altogether detrimental. To a treacherous heart, he joined a frankness of manner which amused and interested every one in his favour. Though no one was ever more careless of his veracity, yet he carried the appearance of authenticity in all he said. He had never been used to restraint or disappointment, by the silly indulgence of his parents, and seemed confident that he should succeed in all his particular wishes, and thought that all obstacles could be surmounted by his own machinations and management.The evening was drawing near its close by a round of innocent amusements, when a letter was handed Alida from her father, that he had received from a friend in the city. It contained the unwelcome and unexpected news of the death of Mr. Bolton, who arrived at Savannah at an unfavourable season of the year, at a period when an epidemic fever prevailed. He caught the infection, and a few days terminated the existence of this amiable and accomplished youth. He was pious, benevolentand charitable. He possessed a wisdom firm and unchangeable, strictly adhering to the principles of the church and the Christian religion, and was steadfast in his opinions against all opposition. He was deeply regretted by a numerous acquaintance. His aunt mourned the loss of her favourite nephew, and Alida’s father likewise deplored his premature death, although he had thought proper to oppose his wishes.CHAPTER XXIV.There she might read in nature’s page the wonders of Creation, almighty power, infinite wisdom and unbounded might. There truths that entertain, reward the searching mind, and onward lead inquiring thought. The curious wonders still unfold, and rise upon the view. The mind rejoicing, comments as she reads, and raises still to the Almighty Power increasing homage.Thesummer was past its meridian, and had shed abroad its warmest influences, and enriched the various scenes of nature with the luxuriance and beauty of its foliage. In the meantime, Alida departed again from her father’s house for the city, to join a party composed of gentlemen and matrons, Albert her brother, with several young ladies, who all left the port of New-York for the Falls of Niagara. Her pensive mind became cheered and animated as the gallant steamer left the shores of the city and moved majestically over the smooth face of the Hudson. The morning was extremely beautiful, and she surveyed with a new and alleviating pleasure, the various and extensive prospect of the surrounding country. The scenery on the river at this season surpassed all description, and exhibited a landscape worthy to relate in history. The borders of the river beautifully interspersed with cottages, villages, and large flourishing towns, elegant country-seats,with grounds tastefully laid out, which afforded to the eye of the traveller a novel and enchanting appearance. They arrived about sunset at the city of Albany, and took lodgings at Cruttenden’s boarding-house, on an eminence near the Capitol or State-house.This city, which is situated on the right bank of the Hudson, and stands westward upon a rising ground, received its name, when in possession of the English, in honour of James II., who was the duke of York and Albany. On the following morning they took a walk through the city. In consequence of its vicinity to the Ballston, Saratoga, and New Lebanon Springs, in the fashionable season the hotel was so full of strangers that no more could be accommodated.Albany has received a new impulse, an increase of commerce, and expects to reap the most happy results from the Erie canal, which commences here, and runs a distance of three hundred and sixty-two miles to Lake Erie. The company took a walk to the new basin, into which the canal empties. It is separated from the Hudson by a dam which runs parallel with the river.On the morning of the 14th of August they took passage on board of the Albany, one of the canal packet-boats, for Lake Erie. This canal, which is three hundred and sixty-two miles in length, witheighty-three locks between the Hudson river and Lake Erie, which lies six hundred and eighty-eight feet above the level of the former river. The packet-boat took them from thence to Schenectady. It was covered, and contained a spacious cabin. On account of the great number of the locks, the progress of their journey was but slow. The boat was drawn by three horses, that walked upon a narrow path leading along the canal, and beneath the numerous bridges which are thrown over it.The distance from Albany to Schenectady by land is only fifteen miles, and persons are enabled to travel it in a very short time in a stage coach, but as they were anxious to see the canal, they preferred going by water twenty-eight miles.The city of Troy, five miles and a half above Albany, is pleasantly situated on the left bank of the river, at the foot of several tolerably high mountains, one of which is called Mount Ida. There is a branch canal, which has two locks, and establishes a communication with Troy. They soon arrived at a place where there were no less than nine locks, with an ascent of seventy-eight feet. In front, and to the right of this, is another canal, which unites with the Hudson and the canal from Lake Champlain. At this place they left the Hudson, and directed their course along theMohawk river. During their ride, they observed a covered wooden bridge, which extends over the latter river, a short distance from its mouth, and is about six hundred feet in length, supported by fifteen wooden piers. There was a fine view of the famous Cohoes Falls of the Mohawk river, seventy-eight feet in height, and about four hundred feet wide. In the spring, when these falls extend over the entire bed of the Mohawk, they are said to be extremely magnificent. During this season of dry weather, they presented a handsome appearance, though they were very small, the river being almost completely dried up. Finding great difficulty in continuing the canal on the right bank of the Mohawk, they were obliged here to carry it to the opposite side of the river by means of an aqueduct bridge one thousand one hundred and eighty-eight feet in length. This bridge is supported by twenty-six stone columns, on which account they have placed a chevaux-de-friezeto keep off the ice in the river. The canal is cut through the rocks almost the whole distance, where it runs along the left bank of the Mohawk, and presents a very handsome appearance. Twelve miles further on, it returns again to the right bank of the river, by a similar aqueduct, supported by sixteen piers. Four miles farther on is Schenectady, where they arrivedafter sunset. Between this town and Albany they passed no less than twenty-seven locks. At this place they left the packet-boat, and found excellent lodgings at Given’s hotel, which, after the great heat they had endured during the day, was exceedingly agreeable. Early on the next morning they walked through the town, and visited Union College, which consists of two large buildings situated at a short distance from the town, upon a little eminence. From this building there is a beautiful view of the town and of the Mohawk valley. They left Schenectady early in the morning on board the packet-boat, which had engaged to take them to Utica, eighty miles distant, by an early hour the next day. The canal again ran along the well cultivated valley of the Mohawk, and the prospect of the country, on account of the foliage of the trees upon the heights, was beautiful.The village of Amsterdam consists of a few neat houses. The canal is carried over two rivers, called Schoharie, Canajoharie, from which it receives the most of its water. At this place the horses were conveyed to the opposite side of the two rivers by means of a ferry-boat. At the first ferry is a small village, called Fort Hunter, where at the time of the revolution there had been a fort, or rather a redoubt of the same name. Towardsevening they passed through a valley, which is formed by two rocky mountains. There are twenty locks between Schenectady and Utica. The day was intolerably warm, and the company very much oppressed by the heat, but in the evening fortunately there was a thunder-shower, which cooled the air. They passed over an aqueduct bridge during the night, which stands over a solace called Little Falls. Towards morning they passed through a well-cultivated region called German Flats, which was settled by some Germans during the time of Queen Anne. At about ten o’clock they arrived at Utica, which is intersected by the canal, and is a large, flourishing town. In fact it is only here that a person begins to admire the great improvements in cultivation, and gets perfectly new ideas of the works of man and of his enterprising genius. Utica, on the right bank of the Mohawk, has two banks and four churches. It has also several taverns,the largest of which called Shepherd’s hotel, they found excellent accommodations. There were besides many large and convenient stores, a bookstore, and printing office. The number of travellers this summer were unusually great, especially from the southern states.CHAPTER XXV.
“Dejection pales thy rosy cheek,And steals the lustre from thine eye;The minutes of each tedious hour,Are mark’d by sad anxiety:“And all thy soft, endearing smiles,That spoke with such expressive grace,Alas! are fled, and only careIs seen upon that pensive face.”Thesublime works of nature had shed abroad their cheering influences, and the mild and salubrious breezes of spring had succeededtothe blustering gales of winter. The parents of Alida made preparation to return to the country. Alida’s father was declining in health. He had imparted to his son his wish for him to close and settle his mercantile affairs in the city, (as the times were dreary,) and return to the paternal estate. In the meantime, Albert’s assistance was necessary to alleviate his father, as he was now advanced in years, and had principally relinquished all public business, except attending to its calls only when requested in cases of emergency.Mr. Bolton had been with the family several days, and attended them on board the steamboat. One would scarcely suppose that so interesting anexterior as his, blended with highly polished manners, should not have made some impression on the mind of Alida if her heart had been disengaged. Besides, he was a person too amiable not to be esteemed. His ideas with regard to Alida were altogether sanguine. He believed, as soon as he should ask the consent of her parents, he would easily obtain his wishes. He considered his own fortune already sufficient, without seeking more in the din of business. And he possessed many other advantages which pleaded in his favour. With these hopes of assured success, he made proposals to her father. The manner in which her father replied to him was altogether discouraging, which excluded the hope of his ever gaining the hand of his daughter by his consent. This denial was a sensible cause of chagrin to Mr. Bolton, but yet it did not discourage him.The impatience sometimes of obtaining a thing which is refused to us, renders it still more desirable, and the heart is never in a greater flutter than when it is agitated with the fear of losing the object it most wishes to gain. Moreover, he believed that Alida was already interested in his favour, and he determined to suggest to her, the first opportunity, the plan to elope with him, and thus put it out of the power of her father to impede their happiness.The daywas calm and serene, and the air invigorating. The steam-boat floated slowly upon the waters in monotonous movement. There was music on board. A company of militia were going to the village of ——, where they usually paraded the town for several hours, took dinner at the hotel, and then returned again to the city.Alida remained on deck nearly the whole way, to be a spectator of the various, beautiful landscapes that presented themselves on the river, particularly at this season of the year. A gentle breeze sprung up as they passed the little islands at the entrance of the bay, on whose glassy surface the sun shone with meridian splendour, illustrating the peculiar beauty of the diversified scenery. In the course of a few hours they arrived at the village of ——, where they obtained a conveyance to take them on to their family residence, where they arrived some time in the afternoon.Although all nature was smiling around, and the variegated landscape never appeared more enchanting, birds of every description were seen chirping on the spray, and the trees resounded with their sportive melody, and Alida might still have been happy if she had never become acquainted with Theodore; yet while she had the appearance of serenity, she still cherished a secret uneasiness.She had never received any intelligence concerning him since they had last parted. She imagined herself altogether forgotten, as Bonville had frequently suggested. Besides, he had represented Theodore as worthless. Harrassed and oppressed by a thousand different conjectures, she could scarcely support herself under them with any degree of resignation.In this frame of mind, in serious meditation, she took a seat by the window. The sun was declining slowly beneath the horizon to gladden other regions. The spire of the village church was tipped with gold, and the resplendent rays reflected from the window dazzled the eye. Above was the azure vault variegated with fleecy clouds; beneath was nature’s verdant carpet. The little songsters of the adjoining grove were paying their tribute of praise in melodious strains. The bleating of the lambs, and the lowing of the milky train, re-echoed from the fields and valleys; while the gentle murmuring of the water-fall at the mill, with its rumbling cadence over the dam, was heard at a little distance. “How still is nature,” said Alida. “The sun has withdrawn his radiance, yet the gleam from yonder western sky bespeaks him still at hand, promising to return with his reviving warmth when nature is refreshed with darkness. The bay is already beginningto be silvered over by the mild rays of the queen of night. Gently she steals on the world, while she bestows on us her borrowed splendour. She lights the wandering traveller, she warms the earth with gentle heat. She dazzles not the eye of the philosopher, but invites him to contemplate and admire. Scarcely a breeze is stirring; the shadow of each tree remains undisturbed; the unruffled bay and river glide smoothly on, reflecting nature’s face. Again the attention is drawn, and the eye wanders to yon vast concave, where the mind follows in silent wonder, wandering among the planets, till, struck with beauty of the whole, it acknowledges ‘the Hand that made it is divine.’“Surely,” said Alida, “all nature conspires to calm the mind, to restore tranquillity, to soften every care and corroding thought. But what can ease the troubled mind, which, like the angry sea, after agitation by blustering winds, ’tis still tumultuous?” Where now, thought she, is Theodore? What sadness and difficulty may not his noble and generous spirit have had to encounter! His tender sensibility, his serene and pacific disposition, may have had numerous trials; and how unhappy he may be, who was ever ardent in his endeavours to communicate peace and happiness to others! When she reflected upon all his goodness, his zealous piety, his religioussentiments the same as her own, and recalled to her memory happier days, when she had listened with pleasure to the powerful eloquence of a corresponding spirit. And her esteem for him rose higher, while he commented on religious truths, and bade her place a firm dependence on Divine Providence. Amid these uneasy sensations, which filled the bosom of Alida with anxiety and grief, and left her mind in a state of despondency, the period arrived for the celebration of her father’s birth-day, which brought with it, as usual, much company from the city, from the neighbouring village, with the parish minister and his family.After her several sisters had arrived, and nearly all the company had collected, Alida entered the drawing-room with spirits somewhat re-animated. Bonville was already there. He arose and handed her to a seat. He accompanied the first salutations with many flattering compliments, but with all his endeavours to win her favour, he could not awaken even a temporary regard in the bosom of Alida. In the meantime, she had full leisure to observe his singular behaviour, to listen to his insinuating address, to hear him mention the name of Theodore, and when he observed her feelings were excited, to hear him suddenly change the subject. He sometimes appeared to regard her with an eye of pity,but it arose from a consciousness of his own errors, bordering on baseness. He felt unhappy at his own want of integrity, and his heart reproached him with injustice and treachery.CHAPTER XVII.A polished mien, with elegance of mind,A winning grace, with taste and sense refined,A kindly, sympathizing heart, sincere,The gloomy scene, the pensive thought to cheer.Ina series of events, a period at length arrived, which manifested to mankind, in a more melancholy degree, the shocking consequences and devastation of war, the overwhelming sorrow that is brought on families for the loss of friends, with the discouraging embarrassments attending all kinds of business.A severe engagement had recently taken place within half a mile of the Niagara cataract. General Scott, on his arrival at Niagara Falls, learned that the British were in force directly in his front, separated only by a narrow piece of wood. He soon pressed through the wood, and engaged the British on the Queenstown road. He advanced upon the enemy, and the action commenced at six o’clock in the afternoon, and continued with little intermission until twelve at night. The thunder of the cannon, the roaring of the falls, the incessant discharge of artillery during the six hours in which the parties were in combat, heightened by the circumstance of its being night, afforded such a scene as is rarely tobe met with in the history of the wars of nations. The evening was calm, and the moon shone with lustre when not enveloped in clouds of smoke from the firing of the contending armies. Taking into consideration the numbers engaged, few contests have ever been more sanguinary. The battle was one of the most severe that had been fought during the war. The British troops engaged in this action amounted to 5000 men; many of them were selected from the flower of Lord Wellington’s army. Colonel Miller’s achievement, in storming the battery, was of the most brilliant and hazardous nature, and entitled him to the highest applause among the Americans.The measures of the president relative to the war were of such a nature as greatly to draw upon him the approbation and gratitude of the nation. He early began to turn his mind to a contemplation of the general politics of his country. He, therefore, became advanced in the requisite qualifications to assume and maintain the important station he held over it. He had imbibed an attachment for civil liberty almost from his infancy, which influenced his every action. He was of a pacific temperament, and pursued those measures as long as they would answer. But when it became actually necessary for him to recommend to congressto pursue a different course, it was then that the benefactor of his country endeavoured to concert measures still to preserve America as an asylum for civil and religious liberty. He possessed qualities well calculated to fulfil the duties of his high station with honour to himself and justice to the community. He was dignified in his deportment, kind, generous, and condescending; a patron to science; a uniform promoter of honourable enterprise, but an enemy to every thing dishonest, hypocritical, and disingenuous. And, as a Christian, he firmly adhered to the gospel, and regulated his life by its precepts and injunctions, in a consistent and exemplary manner. This illustrious president had the good fortune to be blessed with a consort whose qualifications in her particular capacity were no less adequate to fill with dignity her elevated station. The parents of Mrs. Madison were natives of Virginia. Their daughter was educated in Philadelphia among the Friends. She was, therefore, little indebted to acquired graces and accomplishments for the admiration and regard which followed her wherever she was known. To much personal beauty she added a warm heart and a benevolent disposition—charms and attractions which won for her not only admirers but friends, and exalted her to high eminencein the public estimation. Her naturalandacquired endowments she carried into society with such pleasing manners and graceful demeanour, as produced almost universally an impression highly favourable to herself among the citizens of Washington. Her society was much esteemed in all the companies she frequented. Her mental powers were of a superior grade, and the effects of genuine piety and Christian benevolence distinguished all her actions. To these she added an amiability of temper, the polished address of a lady, with a conversation both pleasing and instructive. Her deportment to all was prepossessing, by the affectionate manner in which she addressed them separately, and the interest she manifested in their welfare. In these she showed no difference between the rich and the poor, and devoted much of her time to the cause of charity. She was eminently distinguished for her amiable qualities, and a peculiar versatility of talent in her conversation and manners. She entertained the numerous friends and guests of the president with cordial hospitality. She treated her husband’s relatives with regard and kindness; and in the president’s house, whenever there were female guests, Mrs. Madison always presided.After the president’s, the house of the secretaryof state was the resort of most company. The frank and cordial manners of its mistress gave a peculiar charm to the frequent parties there assembled. All foreigners who visited the seat of government, strangers from the different states of the Union, the heads of departments, the diplomatic corps, senators, representatives, and citizens, mingled with an ease and freedom, a sociability and gaiety to be met with in no other society. Even party spirit, virulent and embittered as it then was, by her gentleness, was disarmed of its asperity.Individuals who never visited the president’s dwelling, nor met at the other ministerial houses, could not resist the softening influences of her conciliatory disposition, with her frank and generous manners. She was constantly receiving and reciprocating civilities in the most kind and friendly manner with the inhabitants of Washington. The president, being wholly absorbed in public business, left to Mrs. Madison the discharge of the duties of social intercourse. And never was woman better calculated for the task. Exposed as she necessarily was, in so conspicuous a situation, to envy, jealousy, and misconstruction, she so managed as to conciliate the good-will of all, without offending the self-love of any of the numerous competitors for her favour and attention. Every visiter left herwith the pleasing impression of being an especial favourite, of having been the object of peculiar attention. She never forgot a name she had once heard, nor a face she had once seen, nor the personal circumstances connected with every individual of her acquaintance. Her quick recognition of persons, her recurrence to their peculiar interests produced the gratifying impression in each and all of those who conversed with her that they were especial objects of regard. The house was very plainly furnished, and her dress in no way extravagant; and it was only in hospitality and charity that her profusion was unlimited. The amiable and engaging qualities which have been here described, characterized Mrs. Madison in her husband’s public life. In the midst of the bitterness of party spirit, and the violence of political animosity, she was mild and courteous to all. The political assailants of her husband she treated with a kindness which disarmed their hostility of its individual rancour, and sometimes even converted political enemies into personal friends, and still oftener succeeded in neutralizing the bitterness of opposition.At this period her courage and firmness were put to a severe test. In August, 1814, the British troops landed forty miles below Washington, andapproached that city. The president left the city to hold a council of war. Before his departure he anxiously inquired if she had courage or firmness to remain in their house until his return on the morrow, or succeeding day. She assured him she had no fear but for him and the success of the army. When the president reached Bladensburgh he unexpectedly found the two armies engaged. Meanwhile terror spread over the city—all who could obtain conveyances fled to the adjoining towns. The sound of the cannon was distinctly heard, and universal confusion and dismay prevailed. Some personal friends who remained with Mrs. Madison, strongly urged her to leave the city. They had her carriage brought to the door, but could not persuade her to enter it till her husband should return, and accompany her. And she did not finally depart till several messengers had been despatched to bid her fly. Much as she graced her public station, she was not less admirable in domestic life. Neighbourly andcompanionableamong her country friends, as if she had never lived in a city, delighting in the society of the young, and never better pleased than when promoting every youthful pleasure by her participation;—she still proved herself the affectionate consort, without neglecting the duties of a kind hostess, and a faithfulfriend and relation. She smoothed and enlivened, occupied and appeased, each varying scene of life. Her husband knew, appreciated, and acknowledged the blessing which heaven had bestowed on him, in giving him such a companion.CHAPTER XVIII.And many an aching heart at rising morn,A sad memento of the day that’s past,From long protracted slumbers, slowly drawn;From wearied spirits—with a gloom o’ercast.Allbusiness of importance, at this time, was in a manner suspended in New-York; the face of things wore a dismal aspect, and the greater part of the community were in dismay; occasioned by the continuance of hostilities with Great Britain. All appeared in a declining state, discouraging to the industry and best prospects of the inhabitants;—and although there had been some rumours of peace, it was not yet concluded.A severe battle had lately taken place at New-Orleans, in which the Americans were victorious. Another was fought some little time afterwards on Lake Champlain. The British fleet, with 1050 men approached Plattsburgh, while the American fleet were lying off that place. The British fleet bore down upon them in order of battle, commanded bysirGeorge Prevost, Governor General of Canada. Commodore Macdonough, the American commander, ordered his vessels to be cleared for action, and gallantly received the enemy. Theengagement was exceedingly obstinate. After a contest of two hours, the British ships and several sloops of war fell into the hands of the Americans. Before sunset the temporary batteries of the enemy were all silenced, and every attempt to cross from Plattsburgh to the American works was repelled. At nine o’clock the object was abandoned, and the British general hastily drew off his forces. Large quantities of military stores were left behind, and fell into the hands of the Americans.The people of the United States were at this time divided into two political parties; one party condemned the war as unwise and unnecessary; the other contending that the war was just, and necessary, for the maintenance of national honour. The opposition to the war was the greatest in the New England states, and during its continuance this opposition was confirmed. Enlistments of troops were in some instances discouraged, and dissentions arose between the general and state governments, respecting the command of the militia, called out by order of the former, to defend the sea-board. Accordingly the legislature of Massachusetts appointed delegates to meet and confer with the delegates from the states of New England, or any of them, upon the subject of their public grievances and concerns. The delegatesmet at Hartford, Connecticut, in 1815, and sat nearly three weeks with closed doors. This convention consisted of delegates from the state of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island; two members from New Hampshire, and one from Vermont. After their adjournment, the convention published an address, charging the nation with pursuing measures hostile to the interest of New England, and recommended amendments to the Federal Constitution. The report of the Hartford Convention concluded with the resolution providing for the calling of another convention, should the United States refuse their consent to some arrangements,—whereby the New England States, separately, or in concert, might be empowered to assume upon themselves the defence of their territory against the enemy. The committee appointed to communicate these resolutions to Congress, met at Washington the news of peace: and owing to this event, another Convention was not called. And may it never be the fate of America, to be again involved in hostilities with her mother country, from whence is derived her revered religion;—each nation possessing towards the other reciprocal fellow-feelings, becoming Christian brethren.How shall we to his memory raiseA theme that’s worthy to record;The tribute of a nation’s praiseIn grateful accents sent abroad.Let eloquence his deeds proclaim.From sea-beat strand to mountain goal;Let hist’ry write his peaceful name.High on her truth-illumin’d scroll.Let poetry and art through earth,The page inspire, the canvass warm,In glowing words record his worth.In living marble mould his form.A fame so bright will never fade,A name so dear will deathless be;For on our country’s shrine he laidThe charter of her liberty.Praise be to God: his love bestowedThe chief, the patriot, and the sage;Praise God! to him our father owedThis fair and goodly heritage.The sacred gift time shall not mar.But wisdom guard what valour won,While beams serene her guiding star,And glory points to Madison.CHAPTER XIX.O, glorious prospect, see the smile benign,Of heav’n-born peace, refulgent spread its rays;To peace and concord, may the world incline,And these our later be our happier days.Somelength of time had elapsed since the parents of Alida had taken up their residence in the city for the winter, when the news of peace reached New-York. The cries of peace resounded throughout the city at these joyful tidings,—and the evening of this day was celebrated by a splendid illumination. Transparencies, emblematical of the liberties of the country, were exhibited at all the public edifices. The fine and melodious music in the Park, drew the people together in crowds within the inclosure, till scarcely another could enter,—and although the snow had fallen profusely, and the walking was extremely bad, yet it seemed as if all the inhabitants, generally, were out, parading on foot, to witness the general rejoicing.In the mean time, a visible change for the better took place almost immediately, and these happy effects shed their benign influence throughout all ranks of society, and among all classes ofthe people. Those who had been in despair on account of the times, had now the charming prospect before them of returning happiness and prosperity, when the active scenes of life would again impel the multitude to the exercise of laudable industry, whereby they might ultimately realize the success and proceeds attending on an honest perseverance in business.The country that had been unwillingly drawn into combat had been victorious, and its inhabitants left in peaceful possession of the warrior’s field. An honourable peace had been concluded, and happy tranquillity was once more the fate of the American nation.The miseries and unhappy grievances occasioned by war, were again at an end, and happily terminated. The cheering consequences of peace again communicated their happy effects among the people, awakening to their imagination new hopes and prospects, filling their minds with exultation, and anticipations the most sanguine.The painful, unpleasant effects of discord, animosity, and contention, were now changed to the exercise of those better qualities and dispositions, more pacific and praiseworthy. The scenes of fury, terror, and confusion, were succeeded by those of placid serenity. The hours but a shorttime before spent in moping melancholy and sadness, in individual discouragement and wo, were now passed in listening to musical serenades, in scenes of mirth and festivity. The people whose independence had been gloriously won, nearly half a century before, by the superior prowess of a renowned hero,*who, as a general, marshalled the peasant into a veteran, and supplied by discipline the absence of experience, and through the vicissitudes of a protracted conflict displayed a magnanimity that defied misfortune, and a moderation that ornamented victory.*Washington.America, already revered in the annals of fame, now saw her rights again secured to her by the charter of her liberties. With the view before her of witnessing again the subsequent advantages of free trade and commerce; while her swelling canvass shall be spread over the seas of distant nations, and her star-spangled banner shall proclaim to them her liberty—glory and honour shall kindle in the bosom of the patriot at the name of her Madison. While the wealth of her commerce, the renown of her arms, the fame of her philosophy, the eloquence of her senate, and the inspiration of her bards, shall cause her to emergefrom her horizon, and shine with splendour over the vast expanse of the universe, claiming from remotest regions the respect due to her superiority. Happy America! thy freedom is once more ensured to thee, and thy hero has turned upon the vanquished only the retribution of his mercy.CHAPTER XX.Charmed by returning pleasure’s gentle voice,Each waken’d sense with new-born rapture beats;The adverse heart the welcome stranger greets,And bids each trembling nerve again rejoice.Thepatriotic feelings of Alida’s father partook in the general joy and satisfaction of the community, and he soon turned his attention to celebrate the event of the late peace with tokens of rejoicing. Numerous were the company that collected at his house on the day set apart for this purpose. The dwelling was illuminated, and the guests assembled at an early hour in the evening on this joyful occasion.Unaffected pleasure enlivened the scene, and presided throughout the assembly; light-hearted wit broke forth in a thousand brilliant sallies, while unfeigned joy heightened the flush on the cheek of youth, and smoothed the furrows on the brow of age. Nor did the sprightly fair ones, with the gay young gentlemen, fail to exert themselves to enhance the present felicity of the company. The gaiety of the scene, the flow of general joy, the sight of so many happy people, the countenances of the happy parents in witnessing the innocentmirth of their children, with the benevolent looks of the noble bestower of the entertainment, formed altogether a scene which failed not to fill the heart with sensations the most pleasing and satisfactory.Mr. Bolton was occupied in attending the ladies generally, while a genuine witticism occasionally mingling with his discourse, gave one no mean opinion of his understanding, and increased their admiration of his talents. He was well calculated to please; there was something remarkably graceful in his exterior, and he exerted himself this evening particularly to assist Alida to entertain the numerous visiters.Bonville endeavoured in various ways to attract attention. He was extremely humorous and gay, and the whole party was enlivened by his vivacity. He described the folly of some of the prevailing fashions of the town with sarcastic pleasantry, and related many anecdotes of the gay world and fashionable life, interesting to those who had lived in retirement. Alida could not but listen with some degree of pleasure to his amusing conversation, and the pleasing allusions he frequently made gradually drew the attention of the whole company.Albert selected from the rest an interesting young lady, to whom he directed the most of hisattention, while she, pleased with his politeness, exerted all her conversational powers to entertain him. His father was much pleased to see his son endeavour to make himself agreeable in ladies’ society; he thought it augured a good sign, and would be conducive to meliorate and refine his manners. He had long wished him to close his affairs of business in the city, and settle himself on the paternal estate. He was anxious that he should seek out an amiable companion, of pious principles and exemplary manners, of genuine goodness and benevolence, in whose deportment was mingled the rays of mildness, amiability, and cheerfulness; well-meaning towards all, blended with an unaffected ease and politeness, joined with the usual accomplishments to complete the character of a lady.An unusual degree of innocent amusement prevailed throughout the circle on this evening of general joy, and all were more or less enlivened and cheered by its salutary effects, except Mr. More, who, in the midst of music and mirth, remained sad and melancholy; despondent reflections at times deeply disturbed his tranquillity. In the midst of these scenes of festivity, he was serious and thoughtful; gloomy ideas would in spite of himself cloud his imagination, whenever his thoughtsforeboded the fear of losing the only object of his affection.The elderly gentlemen had a long consolatory conversation on the present affairs of the country, and their happy termination; the wisdom of the government and its coinciding regulations, concluding that the late peace, founded on principles of justice and honour, promised to be lasting.These festive scenes of gladness were concluded by a variety of music, both vocal and instrumental; the powerful influence of which all must acknowledge; which is alike visible in all places, and in every stage of society. And while it flings its spell over the gay abodes of pleasure, it produces likewise its sweet enchantment in the domestic dwelling. The ladies alternately played the piano, while the gentlemen assisted in singing, forming altogether a concert of melodious harmony that wakened the mind to the softest raptures, and threw its bewitching influences over the imagination, calming all former corroding sensations, and animating anew all the soft and sympathetic emotions.Music! wake thy heavenly numbers,Queen of every moving measure,When at thy voice all sorrow slumber,Sweetest source of purest pleasure!Who listens to thy varying strains,Will find their bosoms gently sooth’d,Lulled to repose all cares and pains,And waked to sympathy and love,That calms with soft persuasive airThe heart to harmony and peace.If any grief yet linger there,But touch thy chords and it will cease.Who does not feel their bosoms glow,When the full choir their voices raise,To the Supreme of all below,Pour forth their song of ardent praise?Each heart by sacred impulse driven,To high exalt his glorious name,Loud hallelujahs raise to heaven,And with one voice His praise proclaim.Then music, queen of every art,O still thy matchless powers employ;Since none like thee can peace impart,And none like thee awaken joy.CHAPTER XXI.’Tis true indeed, there’s danger in delay,Then let us speed, and hasten far away;For what of fear, or what of doubts molest,When deep affection reigns within the breast.Severalweeks now passed away without any material occurrence, and the season of the year came round when the winter’s snow was passing from the face of nature, succeeded by heavy showers of rain, and the days had become more pleasant, because they were something longer. The air was more salubrious, and invited the citizens to inhale its healthful draught without their dwellings, where they had been several months in a manner shut up from the inclemencies of the cold season.One morning after the family had taken breakfast, they sat talking over late events and recent occurrences that had varied so materially within the last three months. In this conversation, they were unmindful of the hour, until Mr. Bolton, without ceremony, (as was his custom,) entered the breakfast parlour. After the usual salutations to her parents, and conversing some time with his aunt, he addressed Alida with his native pleasantry,relating to her some stories of the satirical order as the current news of the city. He afterwards informed her of the conversation between himself and her father, and in what manner the latter had replied. Alida remained silent, with her eyes fixed upon the floor, as if revolving in her mind what to say. In the meantime, he did not await her reply, but entreated her in the most pathetic language to consent to elope with him, and at all events to unite her destiny with his; at the same time telling her that implicit obedience to a parent’s will, in an affair that so materially concerned her happiness, could not be expected, and that her father was much to blame in attempting to control her liberty of choice; saying, moreover, that after their views should be accomplished, that he had no doubt whatever of his reconciliation. He had lately received intelligence of the death of an uncle in Savannah, who had bequeathed to him his fortune. He was preparing for his departurethence. He would not, therefore, give up his former project, and thought to avail himself of this opportunity, (by all the rhetoric he was master of,) to urge Alida to accept him and accompany him on his journey. He even proposed whither they should escape from the eye of her father for the performance of the marriage ceremony.Alida was truly shocked and surprised at a proposition so unexpected from Mr. Bolton, after he had known her father’s decision. She had never considered him in any other light than as a brother; and being a connexion in the family, they had always been on terms of friendly intercourse. She, therefore, would have avoided this meeting if she could have had previously an idea of the result.After he had made to her these several propositions, her displeasure held her for some time silent, while it affected her mind sensibly. Nevertheless, she endeavoured to recover herself to answer him in a decided, and, at the same time, in a manner compatible with her present feelings. She commenced urging him to endeavour to forget her in any other light than as a friend. “Can you suppose, Mr. Bolton,” said she, “that I would set a parent’s will at defiance, by committing so unwary an action as to dispose of myself in a clandestine manner, nor could you again imagine that I would give my hand where my heart has no particular regard.” She scarcely uttered this, and could say no more ere he conjured her not to shut her heart against him for ever, and entreated her to permit him still to hope that after a while her compassion might become awakened to the remembranceof a sincere, true, and constant heart, which would cause her to heave the sympathetic sigh for one who could never eradicate her from his memory, even for a moment, or chase from his bosom the esteem and love that time could neither weaken nor extinguish. He was extremely sorrowful in taking leave of Alida and the family, and set out the ensuing day on his journey.Alida felt unhappy at the earnest importunities of a person she could not but have some esteem for. She could not fail to admire the superior powers of his mind. In his conversation, he was all that was agreeable, entertaining, and improving, which abounded with sallies of wit and humour, joined to a fund of erudition acquired by a collegiate education. He was particular to associate only with young men of merit, talents, and genius. He possessed a native vein of satire, which he sometimes indulged with much effect; though, however, he had this dangerous weapon under such thorough discipline, that he rarely made use of it in a way which gave offence to any. He never accumulated any wealth by his own exertion, as he thought what he already inherited was more than sufficient for all his wants. He seemed not to seek for an abundance, like many others, as necessary to his happiness, thinking that, with contentment, the peasantis greater than the prince destitute of this benign blessing, and that a competency, rather than a superfluity, could convey real happiness to man. He thought, that to the improper pursuit after happiness could be attributed much of the misery of mankind; daily he saw dread examples of this serious truth, that many, in grasping at the shadow, had lost the substance. A near relative had now been bountiful to leave him a fortune. That, however, he was thankful for, as it increased his fund for charitable purposes. His intention was to get possession of this and return to the city of New-York, to make it his permanent residence.CHAPTER XXII.Behold the beauteous scene, to fill the mind with wonder and delight;—the varied land and water prospect;—from whence the arm of Commerce sends her store, to nations far remote;—adjacent to a city, that’s wealthy, large, and flourishing.Thegenial warmth of the air had now animated anew the magnificence of nature’s works, and the verdant scenery of spring decked the landscape with all its resplendent colouring and variety. As the season advanced, all classes of people had recourse to their favourite walk on the Battery, either for pleasure, or as an alleviation from the toils and cares of business. This healthy promenade drew together a number of the citizens in the morning, but many more resorted there in the evening, and a numerous throng here regaled themselves, and rested from the busy, bustling occupations of the day;—and at the same time were spectators of the most splendid scene imaginable. When the sun had gone down beneath a clear horizon, and the moon had risen in silent majesty, dispensing her light over the unruffled face of the Hudson, decorated with a numerous sail, representing an inimitable landscape, sublime and beautiful.Alida walked out one evening, and repaired thither, attended by Mr. More. It was six o’clock when they reached the Battery, and a numerous concourse of people had already collected there. The mild rays of the setting sun were just visible above the horizon, and cast a soft lustre over the adjacent landscape, when they entered Castle-Garden to contemplate more nearly the surrounding scenery.They seated themselves here, while they discoursed on the beauties of nature, and the wonders of creation,—descanting on the goodness and bounty of that ineffable Being, from whom all our blessings flow;—the continual succession of so many various objects, to fill the mind with rapture and enthusiasm, and strike us with veneration and awe.The beauty and mildness of the present season, the copious showers, that caused the earth to abound with teeming verdure; all of which drew the contemplative genius insensibly to consider the benevolent purposes, for which all these varieties are called forth in such abundance, to excite the gratitude of man, and furnish a perpetual source of pleasure and delight. “And can we,” said Alida, “who are conscious of deriving our existence from a Being of such infinitegoodness and power, properly entertain other prospects than those of happiness, when we experience so many blessings daily, to excite our thankfulness.”Mr. More expatiated on the pleasure there must be in passing a tranquil life with a beloved object, turning hisinsidiouseyes towards Alida as he spoke; he seemed to say, that she was the being, with whom he could be able to realize all the exalted ideas he entertained of such a life; and to point out beauties, and furnish amusement, to a refined taste like hers, would be to him one of the highest pleasures he could possibly experience. When he declared to her his esteem and affection, with his native sincerity, he seemed to be convinced, at the same time, that she was favourably disposed towards him.On the contrary, she was evidently much embarrassed at this declaration. She remained silent, and looked upon him with a degree of pity mingled with regret; then casting down her eyes, she appeared greatly confused. She could not make any returns in his favour, and the amiable Alida felt extremely sorry to give pain or uneasiness to the friend and school companion of an only brother. She had received him with complacency on that account, which had served to increase his ill-fatedpartiality. She felt that she could not give one word of encouragement, yet she did not wish to drive him to despair.The band of music now began to play in the garden. They commenced with the celebrated air of the Star-Spangled Banner, and continued playing different pieces for the space of several hours.As soon as the music ceased, they left the garden to return home, and all the people now apparently thronged out of the gates with as much avidity as they had entered them some hours before. When they arrived at the dwelling of Alida, they found that the time had whiled away, and that the evening had progressed to a late hour.On his way home the mind of Mr. More was absorbed in the following reflections. “When I told her my affection, the blush was diffused over her cheek—and the tear of sensibility started in her eye. She evinced her regard by silent expressions, which she has shown repeatedly in many proofs of interested friendship, accompanied by the softness of her winning manners, and the engaging mildness of her disposition. Bonville is her declared admirer—but he may not be a favoured one. Should he meet with her approbationat any future time, would not his own fate be wretched, and the universe would become a blank deprived of the society of Alida, shaded over with the deepest tints of darkness and melancholy.”CHAPTER XXIII.O let me view, in annual succession, my children, friends, and relatives. Those that in friendship’s bonds are linked together by ties of dear remembrance.Thescene was highly animated, and the days were delightfully pleasant, when Alida returned with her parents to the country. The showers of April had cleared the atmosphere and revivedtheearth with a lively gaiety. The ice in the bay and river had melted away, and the steamboat had again began its course. The rumbling water-fall was again heard at the mill, the pensive stream stole its way through the forest, reflecting from its lucid bosom the light cloud which dwelt in the air—floating on the gentlest zephyrs. The hills and mountains teemed with verdure, and the serpentine valleys were shaded by a friendly foliage. All nature flourished, grew, and expanded, calling forth ejaculations of gratitude and piety, and boldly declaring that a celestial Being overshadows us with his providence.As soon as the family were settled in the country, the parents of Alida made preparation to call the children together in commemoration of their father’s birthday.When the time arrived for thecelebration of this festive scene, the morning arose with every beauty that could bid fair for a cheerful day, and the company assembled at an early hour. Bonville was among those who arrived from the village. He appeared in excellent spirits, as if some new thought had entered his mind, which had given him new hopes of success. He informed Alida, in the course of the afternoon, that he had received intimation from a friend in England, that Theodore was now living in London. After hazarding many conjectures respecting him, he then ventured to add that he hoped he had not met there any new object, to cause him to become forgetful of former friends. Displeasure was manifest in the countenance of Alida, at this suspicion, although she feared it might be true. Theodore had promised to be faithful in a correspondence, and he certainly might have found opportunities, since the happy change of affairs in the country, to make some communications to his friends, if he had been so disposed. Again she thought, as they had been separated by parental authority, that it might have its influence to cause him to become altogether forgetful; and her spirits now sunk under the idea of Theodore’s inconstancy. Bonville continued to speak of him with indifference, observing attentively how Alida was affected. He inquired earnestly if she had ever received anyintelligence from him, during his absence, (as he thought he might have written to her brother.) She answered him in the negative. He expressed his surprise, and after giving many dark intimations of his perfidy, he changed the subject.Alida was before this extremely pensive and thoughtful, and these injurious insinuations of Theodore, increased her dejection. She once firmly believed she had a friend she could lean upon under all circumstances, and his falsity appeared to her now confirmed. A kind of gloomy superstition pervaded her mind, an anxious foreboding of future evil, which all her pious reflections and reasoning powers could not wholly control. She endeavoured to repress these painful sensations, when in the presence of her parents; but the eyes of her father frequently rested on her in filial anxiety. Her brother likewise would often observe her innate sadness, and whatever his thoughts might be as to the cause, he was still reserved, and forebore to name any thing to his sister.Although Bonville was sometimes conscious of his injustice towards Theodore, and felt ashamed of his conduct, he was still determined to proceed with reiterated calumnies, to the ear of Alida, with the hope to ensure to himself her hand before Theodore would probably return to America.L’ innocenza a e costretta a sofferire, talvolta le più crudeli persecuzioni; ma, con vergogna e con danno della calumnia e della malvagità, alla fine pur ne trionfa.The appearance of Bonville was imposing to look upon, his countenance illumined by seeming sincerity and candour, no one could retain an idea for any length of time, that was altogether detrimental. To a treacherous heart, he joined a frankness of manner which amused and interested every one in his favour. Though no one was ever more careless of his veracity, yet he carried the appearance of authenticity in all he said. He had never been used to restraint or disappointment, by the silly indulgence of his parents, and seemed confident that he should succeed in all his particular wishes, and thought that all obstacles could be surmounted by his own machinations and management.The evening was drawing near its close by a round of innocent amusements, when a letter was handed Alida from her father, that he had received from a friend in the city. It contained the unwelcome and unexpected news of the death of Mr. Bolton, who arrived at Savannah at an unfavourable season of the year, at a period when an epidemic fever prevailed. He caught the infection, and a few days terminated the existence of this amiable and accomplished youth. He was pious, benevolentand charitable. He possessed a wisdom firm and unchangeable, strictly adhering to the principles of the church and the Christian religion, and was steadfast in his opinions against all opposition. He was deeply regretted by a numerous acquaintance. His aunt mourned the loss of her favourite nephew, and Alida’s father likewise deplored his premature death, although he had thought proper to oppose his wishes.CHAPTER XXIV.There she might read in nature’s page the wonders of Creation, almighty power, infinite wisdom and unbounded might. There truths that entertain, reward the searching mind, and onward lead inquiring thought. The curious wonders still unfold, and rise upon the view. The mind rejoicing, comments as she reads, and raises still to the Almighty Power increasing homage.Thesummer was past its meridian, and had shed abroad its warmest influences, and enriched the various scenes of nature with the luxuriance and beauty of its foliage. In the meantime, Alida departed again from her father’s house for the city, to join a party composed of gentlemen and matrons, Albert her brother, with several young ladies, who all left the port of New-York for the Falls of Niagara. Her pensive mind became cheered and animated as the gallant steamer left the shores of the city and moved majestically over the smooth face of the Hudson. The morning was extremely beautiful, and she surveyed with a new and alleviating pleasure, the various and extensive prospect of the surrounding country. The scenery on the river at this season surpassed all description, and exhibited a landscape worthy to relate in history. The borders of the river beautifully interspersed with cottages, villages, and large flourishing towns, elegant country-seats,with grounds tastefully laid out, which afforded to the eye of the traveller a novel and enchanting appearance. They arrived about sunset at the city of Albany, and took lodgings at Cruttenden’s boarding-house, on an eminence near the Capitol or State-house.This city, which is situated on the right bank of the Hudson, and stands westward upon a rising ground, received its name, when in possession of the English, in honour of James II., who was the duke of York and Albany. On the following morning they took a walk through the city. In consequence of its vicinity to the Ballston, Saratoga, and New Lebanon Springs, in the fashionable season the hotel was so full of strangers that no more could be accommodated.Albany has received a new impulse, an increase of commerce, and expects to reap the most happy results from the Erie canal, which commences here, and runs a distance of three hundred and sixty-two miles to Lake Erie. The company took a walk to the new basin, into which the canal empties. It is separated from the Hudson by a dam which runs parallel with the river.On the morning of the 14th of August they took passage on board of the Albany, one of the canal packet-boats, for Lake Erie. This canal, which is three hundred and sixty-two miles in length, witheighty-three locks between the Hudson river and Lake Erie, which lies six hundred and eighty-eight feet above the level of the former river. The packet-boat took them from thence to Schenectady. It was covered, and contained a spacious cabin. On account of the great number of the locks, the progress of their journey was but slow. The boat was drawn by three horses, that walked upon a narrow path leading along the canal, and beneath the numerous bridges which are thrown over it.The distance from Albany to Schenectady by land is only fifteen miles, and persons are enabled to travel it in a very short time in a stage coach, but as they were anxious to see the canal, they preferred going by water twenty-eight miles.The city of Troy, five miles and a half above Albany, is pleasantly situated on the left bank of the river, at the foot of several tolerably high mountains, one of which is called Mount Ida. There is a branch canal, which has two locks, and establishes a communication with Troy. They soon arrived at a place where there were no less than nine locks, with an ascent of seventy-eight feet. In front, and to the right of this, is another canal, which unites with the Hudson and the canal from Lake Champlain. At this place they left the Hudson, and directed their course along theMohawk river. During their ride, they observed a covered wooden bridge, which extends over the latter river, a short distance from its mouth, and is about six hundred feet in length, supported by fifteen wooden piers. There was a fine view of the famous Cohoes Falls of the Mohawk river, seventy-eight feet in height, and about four hundred feet wide. In the spring, when these falls extend over the entire bed of the Mohawk, they are said to be extremely magnificent. During this season of dry weather, they presented a handsome appearance, though they were very small, the river being almost completely dried up. Finding great difficulty in continuing the canal on the right bank of the Mohawk, they were obliged here to carry it to the opposite side of the river by means of an aqueduct bridge one thousand one hundred and eighty-eight feet in length. This bridge is supported by twenty-six stone columns, on which account they have placed a chevaux-de-friezeto keep off the ice in the river. The canal is cut through the rocks almost the whole distance, where it runs along the left bank of the Mohawk, and presents a very handsome appearance. Twelve miles further on, it returns again to the right bank of the river, by a similar aqueduct, supported by sixteen piers. Four miles farther on is Schenectady, where they arrivedafter sunset. Between this town and Albany they passed no less than twenty-seven locks. At this place they left the packet-boat, and found excellent lodgings at Given’s hotel, which, after the great heat they had endured during the day, was exceedingly agreeable. Early on the next morning they walked through the town, and visited Union College, which consists of two large buildings situated at a short distance from the town, upon a little eminence. From this building there is a beautiful view of the town and of the Mohawk valley. They left Schenectady early in the morning on board the packet-boat, which had engaged to take them to Utica, eighty miles distant, by an early hour the next day. The canal again ran along the well cultivated valley of the Mohawk, and the prospect of the country, on account of the foliage of the trees upon the heights, was beautiful.The village of Amsterdam consists of a few neat houses. The canal is carried over two rivers, called Schoharie, Canajoharie, from which it receives the most of its water. At this place the horses were conveyed to the opposite side of the two rivers by means of a ferry-boat. At the first ferry is a small village, called Fort Hunter, where at the time of the revolution there had been a fort, or rather a redoubt of the same name. Towardsevening they passed through a valley, which is formed by two rocky mountains. There are twenty locks between Schenectady and Utica. The day was intolerably warm, and the company very much oppressed by the heat, but in the evening fortunately there was a thunder-shower, which cooled the air. They passed over an aqueduct bridge during the night, which stands over a solace called Little Falls. Towards morning they passed through a well-cultivated region called German Flats, which was settled by some Germans during the time of Queen Anne. At about ten o’clock they arrived at Utica, which is intersected by the canal, and is a large, flourishing town. In fact it is only here that a person begins to admire the great improvements in cultivation, and gets perfectly new ideas of the works of man and of his enterprising genius. Utica, on the right bank of the Mohawk, has two banks and four churches. It has also several taverns,the largest of which called Shepherd’s hotel, they found excellent accommodations. There were besides many large and convenient stores, a bookstore, and printing office. The number of travellers this summer were unusually great, especially from the southern states.CHAPTER XXV.
“Dejection pales thy rosy cheek,And steals the lustre from thine eye;The minutes of each tedious hour,Are mark’d by sad anxiety:“And all thy soft, endearing smiles,That spoke with such expressive grace,Alas! are fled, and only careIs seen upon that pensive face.”
“Dejection pales thy rosy cheek,
And steals the lustre from thine eye;
The minutes of each tedious hour,
Are mark’d by sad anxiety:
“And all thy soft, endearing smiles,
That spoke with such expressive grace,
Alas! are fled, and only care
Is seen upon that pensive face.”
Thesublime works of nature had shed abroad their cheering influences, and the mild and salubrious breezes of spring had succeededtothe blustering gales of winter. The parents of Alida made preparation to return to the country. Alida’s father was declining in health. He had imparted to his son his wish for him to close and settle his mercantile affairs in the city, (as the times were dreary,) and return to the paternal estate. In the meantime, Albert’s assistance was necessary to alleviate his father, as he was now advanced in years, and had principally relinquished all public business, except attending to its calls only when requested in cases of emergency.
Mr. Bolton had been with the family several days, and attended them on board the steamboat. One would scarcely suppose that so interesting anexterior as his, blended with highly polished manners, should not have made some impression on the mind of Alida if her heart had been disengaged. Besides, he was a person too amiable not to be esteemed. His ideas with regard to Alida were altogether sanguine. He believed, as soon as he should ask the consent of her parents, he would easily obtain his wishes. He considered his own fortune already sufficient, without seeking more in the din of business. And he possessed many other advantages which pleaded in his favour. With these hopes of assured success, he made proposals to her father. The manner in which her father replied to him was altogether discouraging, which excluded the hope of his ever gaining the hand of his daughter by his consent. This denial was a sensible cause of chagrin to Mr. Bolton, but yet it did not discourage him.
The impatience sometimes of obtaining a thing which is refused to us, renders it still more desirable, and the heart is never in a greater flutter than when it is agitated with the fear of losing the object it most wishes to gain. Moreover, he believed that Alida was already interested in his favour, and he determined to suggest to her, the first opportunity, the plan to elope with him, and thus put it out of the power of her father to impede their happiness.
The daywas calm and serene, and the air invigorating. The steam-boat floated slowly upon the waters in monotonous movement. There was music on board. A company of militia were going to the village of ——, where they usually paraded the town for several hours, took dinner at the hotel, and then returned again to the city.
Alida remained on deck nearly the whole way, to be a spectator of the various, beautiful landscapes that presented themselves on the river, particularly at this season of the year. A gentle breeze sprung up as they passed the little islands at the entrance of the bay, on whose glassy surface the sun shone with meridian splendour, illustrating the peculiar beauty of the diversified scenery. In the course of a few hours they arrived at the village of ——, where they obtained a conveyance to take them on to their family residence, where they arrived some time in the afternoon.
Although all nature was smiling around, and the variegated landscape never appeared more enchanting, birds of every description were seen chirping on the spray, and the trees resounded with their sportive melody, and Alida might still have been happy if she had never become acquainted with Theodore; yet while she had the appearance of serenity, she still cherished a secret uneasiness.She had never received any intelligence concerning him since they had last parted. She imagined herself altogether forgotten, as Bonville had frequently suggested. Besides, he had represented Theodore as worthless. Harrassed and oppressed by a thousand different conjectures, she could scarcely support herself under them with any degree of resignation.
In this frame of mind, in serious meditation, she took a seat by the window. The sun was declining slowly beneath the horizon to gladden other regions. The spire of the village church was tipped with gold, and the resplendent rays reflected from the window dazzled the eye. Above was the azure vault variegated with fleecy clouds; beneath was nature’s verdant carpet. The little songsters of the adjoining grove were paying their tribute of praise in melodious strains. The bleating of the lambs, and the lowing of the milky train, re-echoed from the fields and valleys; while the gentle murmuring of the water-fall at the mill, with its rumbling cadence over the dam, was heard at a little distance. “How still is nature,” said Alida. “The sun has withdrawn his radiance, yet the gleam from yonder western sky bespeaks him still at hand, promising to return with his reviving warmth when nature is refreshed with darkness. The bay is already beginningto be silvered over by the mild rays of the queen of night. Gently she steals on the world, while she bestows on us her borrowed splendour. She lights the wandering traveller, she warms the earth with gentle heat. She dazzles not the eye of the philosopher, but invites him to contemplate and admire. Scarcely a breeze is stirring; the shadow of each tree remains undisturbed; the unruffled bay and river glide smoothly on, reflecting nature’s face. Again the attention is drawn, and the eye wanders to yon vast concave, where the mind follows in silent wonder, wandering among the planets, till, struck with beauty of the whole, it acknowledges ‘the Hand that made it is divine.’
“Surely,” said Alida, “all nature conspires to calm the mind, to restore tranquillity, to soften every care and corroding thought. But what can ease the troubled mind, which, like the angry sea, after agitation by blustering winds, ’tis still tumultuous?” Where now, thought she, is Theodore? What sadness and difficulty may not his noble and generous spirit have had to encounter! His tender sensibility, his serene and pacific disposition, may have had numerous trials; and how unhappy he may be, who was ever ardent in his endeavours to communicate peace and happiness to others! When she reflected upon all his goodness, his zealous piety, his religioussentiments the same as her own, and recalled to her memory happier days, when she had listened with pleasure to the powerful eloquence of a corresponding spirit. And her esteem for him rose higher, while he commented on religious truths, and bade her place a firm dependence on Divine Providence. Amid these uneasy sensations, which filled the bosom of Alida with anxiety and grief, and left her mind in a state of despondency, the period arrived for the celebration of her father’s birth-day, which brought with it, as usual, much company from the city, from the neighbouring village, with the parish minister and his family.
After her several sisters had arrived, and nearly all the company had collected, Alida entered the drawing-room with spirits somewhat re-animated. Bonville was already there. He arose and handed her to a seat. He accompanied the first salutations with many flattering compliments, but with all his endeavours to win her favour, he could not awaken even a temporary regard in the bosom of Alida. In the meantime, she had full leisure to observe his singular behaviour, to listen to his insinuating address, to hear him mention the name of Theodore, and when he observed her feelings were excited, to hear him suddenly change the subject. He sometimes appeared to regard her with an eye of pity,but it arose from a consciousness of his own errors, bordering on baseness. He felt unhappy at his own want of integrity, and his heart reproached him with injustice and treachery.
A polished mien, with elegance of mind,A winning grace, with taste and sense refined,A kindly, sympathizing heart, sincere,The gloomy scene, the pensive thought to cheer.
A polished mien, with elegance of mind,
A winning grace, with taste and sense refined,
A kindly, sympathizing heart, sincere,
The gloomy scene, the pensive thought to cheer.
Ina series of events, a period at length arrived, which manifested to mankind, in a more melancholy degree, the shocking consequences and devastation of war, the overwhelming sorrow that is brought on families for the loss of friends, with the discouraging embarrassments attending all kinds of business.
A severe engagement had recently taken place within half a mile of the Niagara cataract. General Scott, on his arrival at Niagara Falls, learned that the British were in force directly in his front, separated only by a narrow piece of wood. He soon pressed through the wood, and engaged the British on the Queenstown road. He advanced upon the enemy, and the action commenced at six o’clock in the afternoon, and continued with little intermission until twelve at night. The thunder of the cannon, the roaring of the falls, the incessant discharge of artillery during the six hours in which the parties were in combat, heightened by the circumstance of its being night, afforded such a scene as is rarely tobe met with in the history of the wars of nations. The evening was calm, and the moon shone with lustre when not enveloped in clouds of smoke from the firing of the contending armies. Taking into consideration the numbers engaged, few contests have ever been more sanguinary. The battle was one of the most severe that had been fought during the war. The British troops engaged in this action amounted to 5000 men; many of them were selected from the flower of Lord Wellington’s army. Colonel Miller’s achievement, in storming the battery, was of the most brilliant and hazardous nature, and entitled him to the highest applause among the Americans.
The measures of the president relative to the war were of such a nature as greatly to draw upon him the approbation and gratitude of the nation. He early began to turn his mind to a contemplation of the general politics of his country. He, therefore, became advanced in the requisite qualifications to assume and maintain the important station he held over it. He had imbibed an attachment for civil liberty almost from his infancy, which influenced his every action. He was of a pacific temperament, and pursued those measures as long as they would answer. But when it became actually necessary for him to recommend to congressto pursue a different course, it was then that the benefactor of his country endeavoured to concert measures still to preserve America as an asylum for civil and religious liberty. He possessed qualities well calculated to fulfil the duties of his high station with honour to himself and justice to the community. He was dignified in his deportment, kind, generous, and condescending; a patron to science; a uniform promoter of honourable enterprise, but an enemy to every thing dishonest, hypocritical, and disingenuous. And, as a Christian, he firmly adhered to the gospel, and regulated his life by its precepts and injunctions, in a consistent and exemplary manner. This illustrious president had the good fortune to be blessed with a consort whose qualifications in her particular capacity were no less adequate to fill with dignity her elevated station. The parents of Mrs. Madison were natives of Virginia. Their daughter was educated in Philadelphia among the Friends. She was, therefore, little indebted to acquired graces and accomplishments for the admiration and regard which followed her wherever she was known. To much personal beauty she added a warm heart and a benevolent disposition—charms and attractions which won for her not only admirers but friends, and exalted her to high eminencein the public estimation. Her naturalandacquired endowments she carried into society with such pleasing manners and graceful demeanour, as produced almost universally an impression highly favourable to herself among the citizens of Washington. Her society was much esteemed in all the companies she frequented. Her mental powers were of a superior grade, and the effects of genuine piety and Christian benevolence distinguished all her actions. To these she added an amiability of temper, the polished address of a lady, with a conversation both pleasing and instructive. Her deportment to all was prepossessing, by the affectionate manner in which she addressed them separately, and the interest she manifested in their welfare. In these she showed no difference between the rich and the poor, and devoted much of her time to the cause of charity. She was eminently distinguished for her amiable qualities, and a peculiar versatility of talent in her conversation and manners. She entertained the numerous friends and guests of the president with cordial hospitality. She treated her husband’s relatives with regard and kindness; and in the president’s house, whenever there were female guests, Mrs. Madison always presided.
After the president’s, the house of the secretaryof state was the resort of most company. The frank and cordial manners of its mistress gave a peculiar charm to the frequent parties there assembled. All foreigners who visited the seat of government, strangers from the different states of the Union, the heads of departments, the diplomatic corps, senators, representatives, and citizens, mingled with an ease and freedom, a sociability and gaiety to be met with in no other society. Even party spirit, virulent and embittered as it then was, by her gentleness, was disarmed of its asperity.
Individuals who never visited the president’s dwelling, nor met at the other ministerial houses, could not resist the softening influences of her conciliatory disposition, with her frank and generous manners. She was constantly receiving and reciprocating civilities in the most kind and friendly manner with the inhabitants of Washington. The president, being wholly absorbed in public business, left to Mrs. Madison the discharge of the duties of social intercourse. And never was woman better calculated for the task. Exposed as she necessarily was, in so conspicuous a situation, to envy, jealousy, and misconstruction, she so managed as to conciliate the good-will of all, without offending the self-love of any of the numerous competitors for her favour and attention. Every visiter left herwith the pleasing impression of being an especial favourite, of having been the object of peculiar attention. She never forgot a name she had once heard, nor a face she had once seen, nor the personal circumstances connected with every individual of her acquaintance. Her quick recognition of persons, her recurrence to their peculiar interests produced the gratifying impression in each and all of those who conversed with her that they were especial objects of regard. The house was very plainly furnished, and her dress in no way extravagant; and it was only in hospitality and charity that her profusion was unlimited. The amiable and engaging qualities which have been here described, characterized Mrs. Madison in her husband’s public life. In the midst of the bitterness of party spirit, and the violence of political animosity, she was mild and courteous to all. The political assailants of her husband she treated with a kindness which disarmed their hostility of its individual rancour, and sometimes even converted political enemies into personal friends, and still oftener succeeded in neutralizing the bitterness of opposition.
At this period her courage and firmness were put to a severe test. In August, 1814, the British troops landed forty miles below Washington, andapproached that city. The president left the city to hold a council of war. Before his departure he anxiously inquired if she had courage or firmness to remain in their house until his return on the morrow, or succeeding day. She assured him she had no fear but for him and the success of the army. When the president reached Bladensburgh he unexpectedly found the two armies engaged. Meanwhile terror spread over the city—all who could obtain conveyances fled to the adjoining towns. The sound of the cannon was distinctly heard, and universal confusion and dismay prevailed. Some personal friends who remained with Mrs. Madison, strongly urged her to leave the city. They had her carriage brought to the door, but could not persuade her to enter it till her husband should return, and accompany her. And she did not finally depart till several messengers had been despatched to bid her fly. Much as she graced her public station, she was not less admirable in domestic life. Neighbourly andcompanionableamong her country friends, as if she had never lived in a city, delighting in the society of the young, and never better pleased than when promoting every youthful pleasure by her participation;—she still proved herself the affectionate consort, without neglecting the duties of a kind hostess, and a faithfulfriend and relation. She smoothed and enlivened, occupied and appeased, each varying scene of life. Her husband knew, appreciated, and acknowledged the blessing which heaven had bestowed on him, in giving him such a companion.
And many an aching heart at rising morn,A sad memento of the day that’s past,From long protracted slumbers, slowly drawn;From wearied spirits—with a gloom o’ercast.
And many an aching heart at rising morn,
A sad memento of the day that’s past,
From long protracted slumbers, slowly drawn;
From wearied spirits—with a gloom o’ercast.
Allbusiness of importance, at this time, was in a manner suspended in New-York; the face of things wore a dismal aspect, and the greater part of the community were in dismay; occasioned by the continuance of hostilities with Great Britain. All appeared in a declining state, discouraging to the industry and best prospects of the inhabitants;—and although there had been some rumours of peace, it was not yet concluded.
A severe battle had lately taken place at New-Orleans, in which the Americans were victorious. Another was fought some little time afterwards on Lake Champlain. The British fleet, with 1050 men approached Plattsburgh, while the American fleet were lying off that place. The British fleet bore down upon them in order of battle, commanded bysirGeorge Prevost, Governor General of Canada. Commodore Macdonough, the American commander, ordered his vessels to be cleared for action, and gallantly received the enemy. Theengagement was exceedingly obstinate. After a contest of two hours, the British ships and several sloops of war fell into the hands of the Americans. Before sunset the temporary batteries of the enemy were all silenced, and every attempt to cross from Plattsburgh to the American works was repelled. At nine o’clock the object was abandoned, and the British general hastily drew off his forces. Large quantities of military stores were left behind, and fell into the hands of the Americans.
The people of the United States were at this time divided into two political parties; one party condemned the war as unwise and unnecessary; the other contending that the war was just, and necessary, for the maintenance of national honour. The opposition to the war was the greatest in the New England states, and during its continuance this opposition was confirmed. Enlistments of troops were in some instances discouraged, and dissentions arose between the general and state governments, respecting the command of the militia, called out by order of the former, to defend the sea-board. Accordingly the legislature of Massachusetts appointed delegates to meet and confer with the delegates from the states of New England, or any of them, upon the subject of their public grievances and concerns. The delegatesmet at Hartford, Connecticut, in 1815, and sat nearly three weeks with closed doors. This convention consisted of delegates from the state of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island; two members from New Hampshire, and one from Vermont. After their adjournment, the convention published an address, charging the nation with pursuing measures hostile to the interest of New England, and recommended amendments to the Federal Constitution. The report of the Hartford Convention concluded with the resolution providing for the calling of another convention, should the United States refuse their consent to some arrangements,—whereby the New England States, separately, or in concert, might be empowered to assume upon themselves the defence of their territory against the enemy. The committee appointed to communicate these resolutions to Congress, met at Washington the news of peace: and owing to this event, another Convention was not called. And may it never be the fate of America, to be again involved in hostilities with her mother country, from whence is derived her revered religion;—each nation possessing towards the other reciprocal fellow-feelings, becoming Christian brethren.
How shall we to his memory raiseA theme that’s worthy to record;The tribute of a nation’s praiseIn grateful accents sent abroad.Let eloquence his deeds proclaim.From sea-beat strand to mountain goal;Let hist’ry write his peaceful name.High on her truth-illumin’d scroll.Let poetry and art through earth,The page inspire, the canvass warm,In glowing words record his worth.In living marble mould his form.A fame so bright will never fade,A name so dear will deathless be;For on our country’s shrine he laidThe charter of her liberty.Praise be to God: his love bestowedThe chief, the patriot, and the sage;Praise God! to him our father owedThis fair and goodly heritage.The sacred gift time shall not mar.But wisdom guard what valour won,While beams serene her guiding star,And glory points to Madison.
How shall we to his memory raise
A theme that’s worthy to record;
The tribute of a nation’s praise
In grateful accents sent abroad.
Let eloquence his deeds proclaim.
From sea-beat strand to mountain goal;
Let hist’ry write his peaceful name.
High on her truth-illumin’d scroll.
Let poetry and art through earth,
The page inspire, the canvass warm,
In glowing words record his worth.
In living marble mould his form.
A fame so bright will never fade,
A name so dear will deathless be;
For on our country’s shrine he laid
The charter of her liberty.
Praise be to God: his love bestowed
The chief, the patriot, and the sage;
Praise God! to him our father owed
This fair and goodly heritage.
The sacred gift time shall not mar.
But wisdom guard what valour won,
While beams serene her guiding star,
And glory points to Madison.
O, glorious prospect, see the smile benign,Of heav’n-born peace, refulgent spread its rays;To peace and concord, may the world incline,And these our later be our happier days.
O, glorious prospect, see the smile benign,
Of heav’n-born peace, refulgent spread its rays;
To peace and concord, may the world incline,
And these our later be our happier days.
Somelength of time had elapsed since the parents of Alida had taken up their residence in the city for the winter, when the news of peace reached New-York. The cries of peace resounded throughout the city at these joyful tidings,—and the evening of this day was celebrated by a splendid illumination. Transparencies, emblematical of the liberties of the country, were exhibited at all the public edifices. The fine and melodious music in the Park, drew the people together in crowds within the inclosure, till scarcely another could enter,—and although the snow had fallen profusely, and the walking was extremely bad, yet it seemed as if all the inhabitants, generally, were out, parading on foot, to witness the general rejoicing.
In the mean time, a visible change for the better took place almost immediately, and these happy effects shed their benign influence throughout all ranks of society, and among all classes ofthe people. Those who had been in despair on account of the times, had now the charming prospect before them of returning happiness and prosperity, when the active scenes of life would again impel the multitude to the exercise of laudable industry, whereby they might ultimately realize the success and proceeds attending on an honest perseverance in business.
The country that had been unwillingly drawn into combat had been victorious, and its inhabitants left in peaceful possession of the warrior’s field. An honourable peace had been concluded, and happy tranquillity was once more the fate of the American nation.
The miseries and unhappy grievances occasioned by war, were again at an end, and happily terminated. The cheering consequences of peace again communicated their happy effects among the people, awakening to their imagination new hopes and prospects, filling their minds with exultation, and anticipations the most sanguine.
The painful, unpleasant effects of discord, animosity, and contention, were now changed to the exercise of those better qualities and dispositions, more pacific and praiseworthy. The scenes of fury, terror, and confusion, were succeeded by those of placid serenity. The hours but a shorttime before spent in moping melancholy and sadness, in individual discouragement and wo, were now passed in listening to musical serenades, in scenes of mirth and festivity. The people whose independence had been gloriously won, nearly half a century before, by the superior prowess of a renowned hero,*who, as a general, marshalled the peasant into a veteran, and supplied by discipline the absence of experience, and through the vicissitudes of a protracted conflict displayed a magnanimity that defied misfortune, and a moderation that ornamented victory.
*Washington.
America, already revered in the annals of fame, now saw her rights again secured to her by the charter of her liberties. With the view before her of witnessing again the subsequent advantages of free trade and commerce; while her swelling canvass shall be spread over the seas of distant nations, and her star-spangled banner shall proclaim to them her liberty—glory and honour shall kindle in the bosom of the patriot at the name of her Madison. While the wealth of her commerce, the renown of her arms, the fame of her philosophy, the eloquence of her senate, and the inspiration of her bards, shall cause her to emergefrom her horizon, and shine with splendour over the vast expanse of the universe, claiming from remotest regions the respect due to her superiority. Happy America! thy freedom is once more ensured to thee, and thy hero has turned upon the vanquished only the retribution of his mercy.
Charmed by returning pleasure’s gentle voice,Each waken’d sense with new-born rapture beats;The adverse heart the welcome stranger greets,And bids each trembling nerve again rejoice.
Charmed by returning pleasure’s gentle voice,
Each waken’d sense with new-born rapture beats;
The adverse heart the welcome stranger greets,
And bids each trembling nerve again rejoice.
Thepatriotic feelings of Alida’s father partook in the general joy and satisfaction of the community, and he soon turned his attention to celebrate the event of the late peace with tokens of rejoicing. Numerous were the company that collected at his house on the day set apart for this purpose. The dwelling was illuminated, and the guests assembled at an early hour in the evening on this joyful occasion.
Unaffected pleasure enlivened the scene, and presided throughout the assembly; light-hearted wit broke forth in a thousand brilliant sallies, while unfeigned joy heightened the flush on the cheek of youth, and smoothed the furrows on the brow of age. Nor did the sprightly fair ones, with the gay young gentlemen, fail to exert themselves to enhance the present felicity of the company. The gaiety of the scene, the flow of general joy, the sight of so many happy people, the countenances of the happy parents in witnessing the innocentmirth of their children, with the benevolent looks of the noble bestower of the entertainment, formed altogether a scene which failed not to fill the heart with sensations the most pleasing and satisfactory.
Mr. Bolton was occupied in attending the ladies generally, while a genuine witticism occasionally mingling with his discourse, gave one no mean opinion of his understanding, and increased their admiration of his talents. He was well calculated to please; there was something remarkably graceful in his exterior, and he exerted himself this evening particularly to assist Alida to entertain the numerous visiters.
Bonville endeavoured in various ways to attract attention. He was extremely humorous and gay, and the whole party was enlivened by his vivacity. He described the folly of some of the prevailing fashions of the town with sarcastic pleasantry, and related many anecdotes of the gay world and fashionable life, interesting to those who had lived in retirement. Alida could not but listen with some degree of pleasure to his amusing conversation, and the pleasing allusions he frequently made gradually drew the attention of the whole company.
Albert selected from the rest an interesting young lady, to whom he directed the most of hisattention, while she, pleased with his politeness, exerted all her conversational powers to entertain him. His father was much pleased to see his son endeavour to make himself agreeable in ladies’ society; he thought it augured a good sign, and would be conducive to meliorate and refine his manners. He had long wished him to close his affairs of business in the city, and settle himself on the paternal estate. He was anxious that he should seek out an amiable companion, of pious principles and exemplary manners, of genuine goodness and benevolence, in whose deportment was mingled the rays of mildness, amiability, and cheerfulness; well-meaning towards all, blended with an unaffected ease and politeness, joined with the usual accomplishments to complete the character of a lady.
An unusual degree of innocent amusement prevailed throughout the circle on this evening of general joy, and all were more or less enlivened and cheered by its salutary effects, except Mr. More, who, in the midst of music and mirth, remained sad and melancholy; despondent reflections at times deeply disturbed his tranquillity. In the midst of these scenes of festivity, he was serious and thoughtful; gloomy ideas would in spite of himself cloud his imagination, whenever his thoughtsforeboded the fear of losing the only object of his affection.
The elderly gentlemen had a long consolatory conversation on the present affairs of the country, and their happy termination; the wisdom of the government and its coinciding regulations, concluding that the late peace, founded on principles of justice and honour, promised to be lasting.
These festive scenes of gladness were concluded by a variety of music, both vocal and instrumental; the powerful influence of which all must acknowledge; which is alike visible in all places, and in every stage of society. And while it flings its spell over the gay abodes of pleasure, it produces likewise its sweet enchantment in the domestic dwelling. The ladies alternately played the piano, while the gentlemen assisted in singing, forming altogether a concert of melodious harmony that wakened the mind to the softest raptures, and threw its bewitching influences over the imagination, calming all former corroding sensations, and animating anew all the soft and sympathetic emotions.
Music! wake thy heavenly numbers,Queen of every moving measure,When at thy voice all sorrow slumber,Sweetest source of purest pleasure!Who listens to thy varying strains,Will find their bosoms gently sooth’d,Lulled to repose all cares and pains,And waked to sympathy and love,That calms with soft persuasive airThe heart to harmony and peace.If any grief yet linger there,But touch thy chords and it will cease.Who does not feel their bosoms glow,When the full choir their voices raise,To the Supreme of all below,Pour forth their song of ardent praise?Each heart by sacred impulse driven,To high exalt his glorious name,Loud hallelujahs raise to heaven,And with one voice His praise proclaim.Then music, queen of every art,O still thy matchless powers employ;Since none like thee can peace impart,And none like thee awaken joy.
Music! wake thy heavenly numbers,
Queen of every moving measure,
When at thy voice all sorrow slumber,
Sweetest source of purest pleasure!
Who listens to thy varying strains,
Will find their bosoms gently sooth’d,
Lulled to repose all cares and pains,
And waked to sympathy and love,
That calms with soft persuasive air
The heart to harmony and peace.
If any grief yet linger there,
But touch thy chords and it will cease.
Who does not feel their bosoms glow,
When the full choir their voices raise,
To the Supreme of all below,
Pour forth their song of ardent praise?
Each heart by sacred impulse driven,
To high exalt his glorious name,
Loud hallelujahs raise to heaven,
And with one voice His praise proclaim.
Then music, queen of every art,
O still thy matchless powers employ;
Since none like thee can peace impart,
And none like thee awaken joy.
’Tis true indeed, there’s danger in delay,Then let us speed, and hasten far away;For what of fear, or what of doubts molest,When deep affection reigns within the breast.
’Tis true indeed, there’s danger in delay,
Then let us speed, and hasten far away;
For what of fear, or what of doubts molest,
When deep affection reigns within the breast.
Severalweeks now passed away without any material occurrence, and the season of the year came round when the winter’s snow was passing from the face of nature, succeeded by heavy showers of rain, and the days had become more pleasant, because they were something longer. The air was more salubrious, and invited the citizens to inhale its healthful draught without their dwellings, where they had been several months in a manner shut up from the inclemencies of the cold season.
One morning after the family had taken breakfast, they sat talking over late events and recent occurrences that had varied so materially within the last three months. In this conversation, they were unmindful of the hour, until Mr. Bolton, without ceremony, (as was his custom,) entered the breakfast parlour. After the usual salutations to her parents, and conversing some time with his aunt, he addressed Alida with his native pleasantry,relating to her some stories of the satirical order as the current news of the city. He afterwards informed her of the conversation between himself and her father, and in what manner the latter had replied. Alida remained silent, with her eyes fixed upon the floor, as if revolving in her mind what to say. In the meantime, he did not await her reply, but entreated her in the most pathetic language to consent to elope with him, and at all events to unite her destiny with his; at the same time telling her that implicit obedience to a parent’s will, in an affair that so materially concerned her happiness, could not be expected, and that her father was much to blame in attempting to control her liberty of choice; saying, moreover, that after their views should be accomplished, that he had no doubt whatever of his reconciliation. He had lately received intelligence of the death of an uncle in Savannah, who had bequeathed to him his fortune. He was preparing for his departurethence. He would not, therefore, give up his former project, and thought to avail himself of this opportunity, (by all the rhetoric he was master of,) to urge Alida to accept him and accompany him on his journey. He even proposed whither they should escape from the eye of her father for the performance of the marriage ceremony.
Alida was truly shocked and surprised at a proposition so unexpected from Mr. Bolton, after he had known her father’s decision. She had never considered him in any other light than as a brother; and being a connexion in the family, they had always been on terms of friendly intercourse. She, therefore, would have avoided this meeting if she could have had previously an idea of the result.
After he had made to her these several propositions, her displeasure held her for some time silent, while it affected her mind sensibly. Nevertheless, she endeavoured to recover herself to answer him in a decided, and, at the same time, in a manner compatible with her present feelings. She commenced urging him to endeavour to forget her in any other light than as a friend. “Can you suppose, Mr. Bolton,” said she, “that I would set a parent’s will at defiance, by committing so unwary an action as to dispose of myself in a clandestine manner, nor could you again imagine that I would give my hand where my heart has no particular regard.” She scarcely uttered this, and could say no more ere he conjured her not to shut her heart against him for ever, and entreated her to permit him still to hope that after a while her compassion might become awakened to the remembranceof a sincere, true, and constant heart, which would cause her to heave the sympathetic sigh for one who could never eradicate her from his memory, even for a moment, or chase from his bosom the esteem and love that time could neither weaken nor extinguish. He was extremely sorrowful in taking leave of Alida and the family, and set out the ensuing day on his journey.
Alida felt unhappy at the earnest importunities of a person she could not but have some esteem for. She could not fail to admire the superior powers of his mind. In his conversation, he was all that was agreeable, entertaining, and improving, which abounded with sallies of wit and humour, joined to a fund of erudition acquired by a collegiate education. He was particular to associate only with young men of merit, talents, and genius. He possessed a native vein of satire, which he sometimes indulged with much effect; though, however, he had this dangerous weapon under such thorough discipline, that he rarely made use of it in a way which gave offence to any. He never accumulated any wealth by his own exertion, as he thought what he already inherited was more than sufficient for all his wants. He seemed not to seek for an abundance, like many others, as necessary to his happiness, thinking that, with contentment, the peasantis greater than the prince destitute of this benign blessing, and that a competency, rather than a superfluity, could convey real happiness to man. He thought, that to the improper pursuit after happiness could be attributed much of the misery of mankind; daily he saw dread examples of this serious truth, that many, in grasping at the shadow, had lost the substance. A near relative had now been bountiful to leave him a fortune. That, however, he was thankful for, as it increased his fund for charitable purposes. His intention was to get possession of this and return to the city of New-York, to make it his permanent residence.
Behold the beauteous scene, to fill the mind with wonder and delight;—the varied land and water prospect;—from whence the arm of Commerce sends her store, to nations far remote;—adjacent to a city, that’s wealthy, large, and flourishing.
Thegenial warmth of the air had now animated anew the magnificence of nature’s works, and the verdant scenery of spring decked the landscape with all its resplendent colouring and variety. As the season advanced, all classes of people had recourse to their favourite walk on the Battery, either for pleasure, or as an alleviation from the toils and cares of business. This healthy promenade drew together a number of the citizens in the morning, but many more resorted there in the evening, and a numerous throng here regaled themselves, and rested from the busy, bustling occupations of the day;—and at the same time were spectators of the most splendid scene imaginable. When the sun had gone down beneath a clear horizon, and the moon had risen in silent majesty, dispensing her light over the unruffled face of the Hudson, decorated with a numerous sail, representing an inimitable landscape, sublime and beautiful.
Alida walked out one evening, and repaired thither, attended by Mr. More. It was six o’clock when they reached the Battery, and a numerous concourse of people had already collected there. The mild rays of the setting sun were just visible above the horizon, and cast a soft lustre over the adjacent landscape, when they entered Castle-Garden to contemplate more nearly the surrounding scenery.
They seated themselves here, while they discoursed on the beauties of nature, and the wonders of creation,—descanting on the goodness and bounty of that ineffable Being, from whom all our blessings flow;—the continual succession of so many various objects, to fill the mind with rapture and enthusiasm, and strike us with veneration and awe.
The beauty and mildness of the present season, the copious showers, that caused the earth to abound with teeming verdure; all of which drew the contemplative genius insensibly to consider the benevolent purposes, for which all these varieties are called forth in such abundance, to excite the gratitude of man, and furnish a perpetual source of pleasure and delight. “And can we,” said Alida, “who are conscious of deriving our existence from a Being of such infinitegoodness and power, properly entertain other prospects than those of happiness, when we experience so many blessings daily, to excite our thankfulness.”
Mr. More expatiated on the pleasure there must be in passing a tranquil life with a beloved object, turning hisinsidiouseyes towards Alida as he spoke; he seemed to say, that she was the being, with whom he could be able to realize all the exalted ideas he entertained of such a life; and to point out beauties, and furnish amusement, to a refined taste like hers, would be to him one of the highest pleasures he could possibly experience. When he declared to her his esteem and affection, with his native sincerity, he seemed to be convinced, at the same time, that she was favourably disposed towards him.
On the contrary, she was evidently much embarrassed at this declaration. She remained silent, and looked upon him with a degree of pity mingled with regret; then casting down her eyes, she appeared greatly confused. She could not make any returns in his favour, and the amiable Alida felt extremely sorry to give pain or uneasiness to the friend and school companion of an only brother. She had received him with complacency on that account, which had served to increase his ill-fatedpartiality. She felt that she could not give one word of encouragement, yet she did not wish to drive him to despair.
The band of music now began to play in the garden. They commenced with the celebrated air of the Star-Spangled Banner, and continued playing different pieces for the space of several hours.
As soon as the music ceased, they left the garden to return home, and all the people now apparently thronged out of the gates with as much avidity as they had entered them some hours before. When they arrived at the dwelling of Alida, they found that the time had whiled away, and that the evening had progressed to a late hour.
On his way home the mind of Mr. More was absorbed in the following reflections. “When I told her my affection, the blush was diffused over her cheek—and the tear of sensibility started in her eye. She evinced her regard by silent expressions, which she has shown repeatedly in many proofs of interested friendship, accompanied by the softness of her winning manners, and the engaging mildness of her disposition. Bonville is her declared admirer—but he may not be a favoured one. Should he meet with her approbationat any future time, would not his own fate be wretched, and the universe would become a blank deprived of the society of Alida, shaded over with the deepest tints of darkness and melancholy.”
O let me view, in annual succession, my children, friends, and relatives. Those that in friendship’s bonds are linked together by ties of dear remembrance.
Thescene was highly animated, and the days were delightfully pleasant, when Alida returned with her parents to the country. The showers of April had cleared the atmosphere and revivedtheearth with a lively gaiety. The ice in the bay and river had melted away, and the steamboat had again began its course. The rumbling water-fall was again heard at the mill, the pensive stream stole its way through the forest, reflecting from its lucid bosom the light cloud which dwelt in the air—floating on the gentlest zephyrs. The hills and mountains teemed with verdure, and the serpentine valleys were shaded by a friendly foliage. All nature flourished, grew, and expanded, calling forth ejaculations of gratitude and piety, and boldly declaring that a celestial Being overshadows us with his providence.
As soon as the family were settled in the country, the parents of Alida made preparation to call the children together in commemoration of their father’s birthday.When the time arrived for thecelebration of this festive scene, the morning arose with every beauty that could bid fair for a cheerful day, and the company assembled at an early hour. Bonville was among those who arrived from the village. He appeared in excellent spirits, as if some new thought had entered his mind, which had given him new hopes of success. He informed Alida, in the course of the afternoon, that he had received intimation from a friend in England, that Theodore was now living in London. After hazarding many conjectures respecting him, he then ventured to add that he hoped he had not met there any new object, to cause him to become forgetful of former friends. Displeasure was manifest in the countenance of Alida, at this suspicion, although she feared it might be true. Theodore had promised to be faithful in a correspondence, and he certainly might have found opportunities, since the happy change of affairs in the country, to make some communications to his friends, if he had been so disposed. Again she thought, as they had been separated by parental authority, that it might have its influence to cause him to become altogether forgetful; and her spirits now sunk under the idea of Theodore’s inconstancy. Bonville continued to speak of him with indifference, observing attentively how Alida was affected. He inquired earnestly if she had ever received anyintelligence from him, during his absence, (as he thought he might have written to her brother.) She answered him in the negative. He expressed his surprise, and after giving many dark intimations of his perfidy, he changed the subject.
Alida was before this extremely pensive and thoughtful, and these injurious insinuations of Theodore, increased her dejection. She once firmly believed she had a friend she could lean upon under all circumstances, and his falsity appeared to her now confirmed. A kind of gloomy superstition pervaded her mind, an anxious foreboding of future evil, which all her pious reflections and reasoning powers could not wholly control. She endeavoured to repress these painful sensations, when in the presence of her parents; but the eyes of her father frequently rested on her in filial anxiety. Her brother likewise would often observe her innate sadness, and whatever his thoughts might be as to the cause, he was still reserved, and forebore to name any thing to his sister.
Although Bonville was sometimes conscious of his injustice towards Theodore, and felt ashamed of his conduct, he was still determined to proceed with reiterated calumnies, to the ear of Alida, with the hope to ensure to himself her hand before Theodore would probably return to America.
L’ innocenza a e costretta a sofferire, talvolta le più crudeli persecuzioni; ma, con vergogna e con danno della calumnia e della malvagità, alla fine pur ne trionfa.
The appearance of Bonville was imposing to look upon, his countenance illumined by seeming sincerity and candour, no one could retain an idea for any length of time, that was altogether detrimental. To a treacherous heart, he joined a frankness of manner which amused and interested every one in his favour. Though no one was ever more careless of his veracity, yet he carried the appearance of authenticity in all he said. He had never been used to restraint or disappointment, by the silly indulgence of his parents, and seemed confident that he should succeed in all his particular wishes, and thought that all obstacles could be surmounted by his own machinations and management.
The evening was drawing near its close by a round of innocent amusements, when a letter was handed Alida from her father, that he had received from a friend in the city. It contained the unwelcome and unexpected news of the death of Mr. Bolton, who arrived at Savannah at an unfavourable season of the year, at a period when an epidemic fever prevailed. He caught the infection, and a few days terminated the existence of this amiable and accomplished youth. He was pious, benevolentand charitable. He possessed a wisdom firm and unchangeable, strictly adhering to the principles of the church and the Christian religion, and was steadfast in his opinions against all opposition. He was deeply regretted by a numerous acquaintance. His aunt mourned the loss of her favourite nephew, and Alida’s father likewise deplored his premature death, although he had thought proper to oppose his wishes.
There she might read in nature’s page the wonders of Creation, almighty power, infinite wisdom and unbounded might. There truths that entertain, reward the searching mind, and onward lead inquiring thought. The curious wonders still unfold, and rise upon the view. The mind rejoicing, comments as she reads, and raises still to the Almighty Power increasing homage.
Thesummer was past its meridian, and had shed abroad its warmest influences, and enriched the various scenes of nature with the luxuriance and beauty of its foliage. In the meantime, Alida departed again from her father’s house for the city, to join a party composed of gentlemen and matrons, Albert her brother, with several young ladies, who all left the port of New-York for the Falls of Niagara. Her pensive mind became cheered and animated as the gallant steamer left the shores of the city and moved majestically over the smooth face of the Hudson. The morning was extremely beautiful, and she surveyed with a new and alleviating pleasure, the various and extensive prospect of the surrounding country. The scenery on the river at this season surpassed all description, and exhibited a landscape worthy to relate in history. The borders of the river beautifully interspersed with cottages, villages, and large flourishing towns, elegant country-seats,with grounds tastefully laid out, which afforded to the eye of the traveller a novel and enchanting appearance. They arrived about sunset at the city of Albany, and took lodgings at Cruttenden’s boarding-house, on an eminence near the Capitol or State-house.
This city, which is situated on the right bank of the Hudson, and stands westward upon a rising ground, received its name, when in possession of the English, in honour of James II., who was the duke of York and Albany. On the following morning they took a walk through the city. In consequence of its vicinity to the Ballston, Saratoga, and New Lebanon Springs, in the fashionable season the hotel was so full of strangers that no more could be accommodated.
Albany has received a new impulse, an increase of commerce, and expects to reap the most happy results from the Erie canal, which commences here, and runs a distance of three hundred and sixty-two miles to Lake Erie. The company took a walk to the new basin, into which the canal empties. It is separated from the Hudson by a dam which runs parallel with the river.
On the morning of the 14th of August they took passage on board of the Albany, one of the canal packet-boats, for Lake Erie. This canal, which is three hundred and sixty-two miles in length, witheighty-three locks between the Hudson river and Lake Erie, which lies six hundred and eighty-eight feet above the level of the former river. The packet-boat took them from thence to Schenectady. It was covered, and contained a spacious cabin. On account of the great number of the locks, the progress of their journey was but slow. The boat was drawn by three horses, that walked upon a narrow path leading along the canal, and beneath the numerous bridges which are thrown over it.
The distance from Albany to Schenectady by land is only fifteen miles, and persons are enabled to travel it in a very short time in a stage coach, but as they were anxious to see the canal, they preferred going by water twenty-eight miles.
The city of Troy, five miles and a half above Albany, is pleasantly situated on the left bank of the river, at the foot of several tolerably high mountains, one of which is called Mount Ida. There is a branch canal, which has two locks, and establishes a communication with Troy. They soon arrived at a place where there were no less than nine locks, with an ascent of seventy-eight feet. In front, and to the right of this, is another canal, which unites with the Hudson and the canal from Lake Champlain. At this place they left the Hudson, and directed their course along theMohawk river. During their ride, they observed a covered wooden bridge, which extends over the latter river, a short distance from its mouth, and is about six hundred feet in length, supported by fifteen wooden piers. There was a fine view of the famous Cohoes Falls of the Mohawk river, seventy-eight feet in height, and about four hundred feet wide. In the spring, when these falls extend over the entire bed of the Mohawk, they are said to be extremely magnificent. During this season of dry weather, they presented a handsome appearance, though they were very small, the river being almost completely dried up. Finding great difficulty in continuing the canal on the right bank of the Mohawk, they were obliged here to carry it to the opposite side of the river by means of an aqueduct bridge one thousand one hundred and eighty-eight feet in length. This bridge is supported by twenty-six stone columns, on which account they have placed a chevaux-de-friezeto keep off the ice in the river. The canal is cut through the rocks almost the whole distance, where it runs along the left bank of the Mohawk, and presents a very handsome appearance. Twelve miles further on, it returns again to the right bank of the river, by a similar aqueduct, supported by sixteen piers. Four miles farther on is Schenectady, where they arrivedafter sunset. Between this town and Albany they passed no less than twenty-seven locks. At this place they left the packet-boat, and found excellent lodgings at Given’s hotel, which, after the great heat they had endured during the day, was exceedingly agreeable. Early on the next morning they walked through the town, and visited Union College, which consists of two large buildings situated at a short distance from the town, upon a little eminence. From this building there is a beautiful view of the town and of the Mohawk valley. They left Schenectady early in the morning on board the packet-boat, which had engaged to take them to Utica, eighty miles distant, by an early hour the next day. The canal again ran along the well cultivated valley of the Mohawk, and the prospect of the country, on account of the foliage of the trees upon the heights, was beautiful.
The village of Amsterdam consists of a few neat houses. The canal is carried over two rivers, called Schoharie, Canajoharie, from which it receives the most of its water. At this place the horses were conveyed to the opposite side of the two rivers by means of a ferry-boat. At the first ferry is a small village, called Fort Hunter, where at the time of the revolution there had been a fort, or rather a redoubt of the same name. Towardsevening they passed through a valley, which is formed by two rocky mountains. There are twenty locks between Schenectady and Utica. The day was intolerably warm, and the company very much oppressed by the heat, but in the evening fortunately there was a thunder-shower, which cooled the air. They passed over an aqueduct bridge during the night, which stands over a solace called Little Falls. Towards morning they passed through a well-cultivated region called German Flats, which was settled by some Germans during the time of Queen Anne. At about ten o’clock they arrived at Utica, which is intersected by the canal, and is a large, flourishing town. In fact it is only here that a person begins to admire the great improvements in cultivation, and gets perfectly new ideas of the works of man and of his enterprising genius. Utica, on the right bank of the Mohawk, has two banks and four churches. It has also several taverns,the largest of which called Shepherd’s hotel, they found excellent accommodations. There were besides many large and convenient stores, a bookstore, and printing office. The number of travellers this summer were unusually great, especially from the southern states.