high spirit and fine feelings of this inexperienced young creature; and invited her, with her little daughter, to remain with her till her husband's return. Nothing could be more pleasing than to witness the maternal tenderness and delicate confidence, which appeared in the behavior of Madame to this new inmate, whose fine countenance seemed animated with the liveliest gratitude, and the utmost solicitude to please her revered benefactress. The child was a creature not to be seen with indifference. The beauty and understanding that appeared full blown in her mother seemed budding with the loveliest promise in the young Catalina; a child whom, to this day, I cannot recollect without an emotion of tenderness. She was then about three years old. Besides these interesting strangers, there was a grand-niece whom she had brought up. Such was her family when I first knew it. In the course of the evening, dreams began to be talked of; and every one in turn gave their opinion with regard to that wonderful mode, in which the mind acts independent of the senses, asserting its immaterial nature in a manner the most conclusive. I mused and listened, till at length the spirit of quotation (which very early began to haunt me) moved me to repeat, from Paradise Lost, "When nature rests, Oft in her absence mimic fancy wakes, to imitate her, I sat silent when my bolt was shot; but so did not to me. quoted readily, by so mere a child, she attached much more importance to the circumstance than it deserved. So much, indeed, that long after, she used to repeat it to strangers in my presence, by way of accounting for the great fancy she had taken These partial repetitions of hers fixed this lucky quotation indelibly in my mind. Any person who has ever been in love, and has unexpectedly heard that sweetest of all music the praise of his beloved, may judge of my sensations when Madame began to talk with enthusiasm of Milton. The bard of Paradise was indeed "the dweller of my secret soul;" and it never was my fortune before to meet with any one who understood or relished him. I knew very well that the divine spirit was his Urania. But I took his invocation quite literally, and had not the smallest doubt of his being as much inspired as ever Isaiah was. This was a very hopeful opening; yet I was much too simple and too humble to expect that I should excite the attention of Madame. My ambition aimed at nothing higher than winning the heart of the sweet Catalina; and I thought if heaven had given me such another little sister, and enabled me to teach her, in due time, to relish Milton, I should have nothing left to ask. Time went on; we were neighbors, and became intimate in the family. I was beloved by Catalina, caressed by her charming mother, and frequently noticed by aunt, whom I very much inclined to love, were it not that it seemed to me as if, in so doing, I should aspire too high. Yet in my visits to her, where I had now a particular low chair in a corner assigned me, I had great enjoyments of various kinds. First, I met there with all those strangers or inhabitants who were particularly respectable for their character or conversation. Then I was witness to a thousand acts of beneficence that charmed me, I could not well say why, not having learned to analyze my feelings. Then I met with the Spectator and a few other suitable books, which I read over and over with unwearied diligence, not having the least idea of treating a book as a plaything, to be thrown away when the charm of novelty was past. I was by degrees getting into favor with Aunt Schuyler, when a new arrival for a while suspended the growing intimacy. I allude to the colonel of my father's regiment, who had removed from Crown Point to Albany. The colonel was a married man, whose wife, like himself, had passed her early days in a course of frivolous gaiety. They were now approaching the decline of life, and finding nothing pleasing in the retrospect nor flattering in prospect, time hung on their hands. Where nothing round them was congenial to their habits, they took a fancy to have me frequently with them as matter of amusement. They had had children, and when they died their mutual affection died with them. They had had a fortune, and when it was spent all their pleasures were exhausted. They were by this time drawing out the vapid dregs of a tasteless existence, without energy to make themselves feared, or those gentle and amiable qualities which attract love: yet they were not stained with gross vices, and were people of character as the world goes. What a new world was I entered into! From the quiet simplicity of my home, where I heard nothing but truth, and saw nothing but innocence; and from my good friend's respectable mansion, where knowledge reflected light upon virtue, and where the hours were too few for their occupation; to be a daily witness of the manner in which these listless ghosts of departed fashion and gaiety drank up the bitter lees of misused time, fortune, and capacity. Never was lesson more impressive; and young as I was, I did not fail to mark the contrast, and draw the obvious inference. From this hopeful school I was set free the following summer (when I had entered on my ninth year), by the colonel's return to England. They were, indeed, kind to me; but the gratitude I could not but feel was a sentiment independent of attachment, and early taught me how difficult it is, nay how painful, to disjoin esteem from gratitude. Chapter XIII SIR JEFFREY AMHERST - MUTINY - INDIAN WAR AT T this time (1765) peace had been for some time established in Europe; but the ferment and agitation which even the lees and sediments of war kept up in the northern colonies, and the many regulations requisite to establish quiet and security in the new acquired Canadian territory, required all the care and prudence of the commander-in-chief, and no little time. At this crisis, for such it proved, Sir Jeffrey, afterwards Lord Amherst, came up to Albany. A mutiny had broke out among the troops on account of withholding the provisions they used to receive in time of actual war; and this discontent was much aggravated by their finding themselves treated with a coldness, amounting to 1 Jeffrey Amherst was born in England, 29 January, 1717, and early devoted himself to the profession of arms. He distinguished himself on the continent, and in 1758, was appointed to the American service with the rank of major-general, and captured Louisbourg. He succeeded Abercrombie, and in 1759 took Ticonderoga and Crown Point. It is related of him as an instance of his activity and energy, that he came down from Lake George on foot, 1st January, 1759, and proceeded on to New York afoot, with a few of his officers and soldiers ("Legacy of Historical Gleanings," 1, 33). He saw the whole continent of North America reduced in subjection to Great Britain, and was loaded with title and honors by the government. He died 3 August, 1797, aged 81. |