an unusual noise proceeding from a copse of low bushes, a few rods from the path. On arriving at the spot, they found two buck deer, their horns fast interlocked with each other, and both much spent with fatigue, one in particular being so much exhausted as to be unable to stand. Perceiving that it would be impossible that they should extricate themselves, and must either linger in their present situations or die of hunger, or be destroyed by the wolves, they despatched them with their knives, after having made an unavailing attempt to disentangle them. Beyond doubt many of these animals must annually thus perish."

SOLDIER AND THE INDIAN.

A soldier in the American army, belonging to Weston, N. Y, about the time Gen. Brock was killed in battle, was on a scouting party one day. Being a man of courage, enterprize, and sagacity, he was determined, if possible, to obtain an accurate knowledge of the position of the enemy, For this purpose he ventured to separate from his companions. In the course of his reconnoitering alone, in the open field, he approached a wood, the under brush of which was very thick. His watchful eye discovered what he supposed to be some animal among the bushes, He immediately saw his mistake-it was an Indian orawling on his hands and feet, with his rifle in his hand, and watching the soldier, evidently with the intention of advancing sufficiently near to make him a sure mark. For the soldier to retreat was now impossible; he thought he could not escape, and he remembered too, that his father had told him never to return with a backside wound. He pretended not to see the Indian, and walked slowly towards him, with his gun cocked by his side, carefully observing all his movements. They approached nearer and nearer; at length he saw the Indian bringing the gun to his shoulder-at that instant the soldier fell to the ground-the ball whistled its deadly music over his head. The soldier lay motionless, The Indian uttered the dreadful yell which signifies the death of an enemy, and drawing the bloody scalping-knife, (but forgetting to reload his piece), advanced with hasty strides, thirsting for murder, and anticipating the reward for the scalp. The soldier, motionjess, permitted him to approach within ten paces, he then with the utmost composure sprung upon his feet. The savage stood aghast! The soldier with deliberate aim, put two balls directly through his heart. A hoarse groan was the only sound that issued from the fallen savage. This son of the forest was at least six feet five inches in height. The soldier took the Indian's rifle, returned to the camp, and sold it for 25 dollars.

INDIAN SHREWDNESS.

When General Lincoln went to make peace with the Creek Indians, one of the chiefs asked him to sit down on a log; he was then desired

to move, and in a few minutes to move still further; the request was repeated till the General got to the end of the log. The Indian said, "Move further." To which the General replied, "I can move no further." "Just so it is with us," said the chief; "you have moved us back to the water, and then ask us to move fur ther."

WHITE QUAKERS.

The father of Mrs. Wright, the famous modeller in wax, was an American planter, and esteemed among his neighbors to be a very rich and a very honest man; that is, he had large tracts of land, houses, horses, oxen, sheep, poultry, and, in short, every kind of living thing, and earthly gain (besides ten children), which man can really want, for the support and comfort of life. Being, however, one of the sect called Quakers, he became so singularly conscientious, that he could not bring himself to believe that God permitted man to spill the blood of animals for their daily food. He, therefore, neither ate flesh himself, nor permitted it to be eaten by any one within his gates. His ten children were twice ten years old, before they tasted flesh. Instead of the modern boarding-school education of Britain, the daughters of this good man were instructed in the arts of the dairy, of agriculture, and every branch of such useful and pastoral knowledge, as tended to make them good wives to men in the same humble and natural sphere of life which their father had set before their eyes. None of this Arcadian family ever appeared in any other dress from head to foot, than in white apparel; and they became not only the objects of admiration and love of their surrounding neighbors, but the fame of his singular manner of life, his virtuous actions, and the general ingenuity of the whole family, was spread over all America. The genius of his ten children broke out in a variety of shapes; for though they were denied earthly masters, they had the great Master of all nature full in view; and their imitative powers burst forth like fruits in their season, and by the same hidden powers. They expressed juice from the herbs and flowers of the garden, and extracted gums from the trees of the forest; with these they made colors, and vied with each other which should excel most in the line of genius they pursued. In short, as has been expressively said, the sister arts in America were then ten in number. The fifth daughter, Mrs. Wright, became a modeller in clay, and to improve in her art, became so desirous of going to Philadelphia (where she then conceived all the then arts of the known world were to be seen), that, for the first time, she became forgetful of her filial duty; and eloped privately to that queen of American cities. Being greatly straitened in point of circumstances, she soon after gave her hand to a substantia! Quaker, who had nothing but age and money to recommend him to her favor. This connexion, however, enabled her to buy such materials as she wanted, and to pursue the bent of her genius. At length

misfortunes befel Mr. Wright, and he died, leaying his ingenious wife, at the age of thirtyfive, little else to maintain her family, but the ingenuity of her head, and 'the cunning of her hands. Mrs. Wright afterwards went to England, and practised her art there with the great

est success.

MR. OGILVIE.

Mr. Ogilvie, formerly so well known in Virginia as a supporter of the Godwenian philosophy, conceiving a vehement desire to see the western country, set off from Richmond, for Lexington, in Kentucky. It was in the month of October, after a most lonely and wearisome day's ride, that, a little before sunset, he came to a small cabin on the road, and fearing he should find no other opportunity of procuring refreshment for himself and his jaded horse, he stopt, and inquired if he could be accommodated for the night. An old woman, the only person he saw, civilly answering him in the affirmative, he gladly alighted, and going in to a tolerable fire, enjoyed the luxury of rest, while his hostess was discharging the duties of ostler and cook. In no long time, she set before him a supper of comfortable, but homely fare, of which, having liberally partaken, and given divers significant nods, the old woman remarked she "expected" he "chose bed," and, pointing to one which stood in the corner of the room, immediately went into the yard a while, to give him an opportunity of undressing. Before he had been long in bed, and while he was congratulating himself on his good fortune, the latch of the door was drawn, and there entered a dark looking man of gigantic stature and form, with stiff black hair, eyebrows, and beard. He was apparently about eight and twenty, was dressed in a brown hunting shirt, which partly concealed a pair of dirty buckskin overalls, and he wore moccasins of the same material. Mr. O. thought he had never seen anything half so ferocious. As soon as this man entered the room, his mother, for so she proved to be, pointing to the bed, motioned him to make no noise; on which, with inaudible steps, he walked to the chimney, put his gun upon a rude rack provided for that and other arms, and sat softly down to the fire, then throwing a bright blaze round the room.

Our traveller not liking the looks of the new comer, and not caring to be teazed by conversation, drew his head under the bed-clothes, so that he could see what was passing, without leaving his own face visible. The two soon entered into conversation, but in so low a voice, thar Mr. O. could not distinguish what was said. His powers of attention were wrought up to the most painful pitch of intensity. At length, the man, looking towards the bed, made some remark to his mother, to which Mr. O. heard her relply, "no, I hardly think he's asleep yet,"and they again conversed in a low voice, as before. After a short interval, while the man sat with his feet stretched out towards the fire, on which he was intently gazing,

"Don't you think he 's asleep now; he was heard to say.

"Stop," says she, "I'll go and see;" and moving near the bed, under the pretext of taking something from a small table, she approached so near, as to see the face of our traveller, whose eyes were indeed closed, but who was anything but asleep. On her return to the fire-place, she said, "Yes, he's fast asleep now."

On this the mountaineer, rising from his stool, reached up to the rack, and taking down with his right hand, an old greasy cutlass, walked with the same noiseless step towards the traveller's bed, and stretching out the other hand, at the moment that Mr. O, was about to implore his pity, took down a venison ham which hung on the wall near the head of the bed, walked softly back to the fire, and began to slice some pieces for his supper, and Mr. O., who lay, more dead than alive, and whose romantic fancy heightened the terrors of all he saw, had the unspeakable gratification to find that these kind-hearted children of the forest had been talking low, and that the hungry hunter, who had eaten nothing since the morning, had forborne making a noise, lest they should interrupt the slumbers of their wayworn guest. The next day, Mr. O. who was an enthusiast in physiognomy, discovered remarkable benevolence in the features of the hunter, which, by the false and deceitful glare of the fire-light, had escaped him, and in his recital of this adventure, which furnished him with a favorite occasion of exercising his powers of declamation to great advantage, in a matter of real life, he often declared that he had never taken a more refreshing night's rest, or made a more grateful repast than he had done in this humble cottage.

We cannot forbear to add that the subject of our memoir was reserved for a different, though not less tragical fate, than that which seemed here to threaten him. After having been an object of criticism or admiration, as a professed rhetorician and declaimer, in all the principal cities of the Union-after trying his oratorical powers in the Surry institute-after encountering, in various forms, disappointment, obloquy, and, to use one of his own alliterations, the miseries of debt and destitution, he became heir to a title and a large estate, in Scotland, and unable either to do without the use of opium, or to bear that deterioration of the faculties which its habitual use superinduced, he very soon afterwards put an end to his weary existence, by a pistol.

GENERAL FORBES.

In the expedition against the French and In dians, on the Ohio, in the year 1758, General Forbes, who commanded the British and Americans, was reduced so low, by his infirmities, as to be carried in a litter. The Indians, who observed it, were astonished that a warrior could not walk: this dissatisfied them so much with their commander, that they strongly remonstrated against serving under him. Their old friend,

Conrad Weiser, in order to appease them, made the following shrewd observation, which not only discovers great acuteness of mind, but a profound knowledge of the Indian character:"This man," said he, "is so terrible in war, that we are obliged to confine him, and let him write his orders; for if he was let loose on the world, he would deluge it with blood."

ELLIOT, THE INDIAN MISSIONARY. In 1650, the society in England instituted for propagating the Gospel, began a correspondence with the Commissioners of the Colonies of New England, who were employed as agents of the society. In consequence, exertions were made to Christianize the Indians. Mr. John Elliot, minister of Roxbury, distinguished himself in this pious work. He collected the Indian families, and established towns; he taught them husbandry, the mechanic arts, and a prudent management of their affairs, and instructed them with unwearied attention in the principles of Christianity. For his uncommon zeal and success, he has been called the Apostle of New England:

Mr. Elliot began his labors about the year 1646. His first labor was to learn the language, which was peculiarly difficult to acquire; for instance, the Indian word Nummatchechodtantamoong anunnonash signifies no more in English than our lusts. Elliot having finished a grammar of this tongue, at the close of which he wrote, "Prayers and pains through faith in Jesus Christ will do anything!" with very great labor he translated the whole Bible into the Indian language. This Bible was printed in 1664, at Cambridge, and was the first Bible ever printed in America. He also translated the Practice of Piety, Baxter's Call to the Unconverted, besides some smaller works, into the Indian tongue. Having performed many wearisome journeys, and endured many hardships and privations, this indefatigable Missionary closed his labors in 1690, aged eightysix years.

The ardor and zeal of Elliot, Mayhew, and others, were crowned with such success, that in 1660, there were ten towns of Indians in Massachusetts who were converted to the Christian religion. In 1695, there were not less than three thousand adult converts in the islands of Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard.

TRUE HONESTY.

Some years ago, two aged men, near Marshalton, traded, or according to Virginia pariance, swapped horses, on this condition,--that on that day week, the one who thought he had the best of the bargain, should pay to the other two bushels of wheat. The day came, and as luck would have it, they met about half way between their respective homes. "Where art thou going?" said one. "To thy house with the wheat," answered the other. "And whither art thou riding?" "Truly," replied the first, "I was taking the wheat to thy house." Each

Our

It is not long since we published a very imperfect sketch of the sublime scenery of the White Mountains, from notes taken during a ramble among their crags, cliffs, and glens. readers will, perhaps, remember that we mentioned, in that sketch, a family, by the name of Willey, which resided about two miles below the Notch, and six miles from any other human habitation. There was an appearance of rural neatness, simplicity and content, manifested by all the members of this family, thus secluded from all the rest of the world, except the traveller whom curiosity or necessity might induce to call, that excited in us no ordinary sensations of pleasure. If the situation of these apparently innocent and happy beings produced, at that time, an uncommon interest, the fate, which has since overwhelmed them, has been no less powerful in exciting emotions of sympathy.

There were reports that an accident had over taken the family, and it was feared that they were either drowned by the swelling of the waters, which rush through the narrow defile, or down the almost perpendicular sides of the mountains, or buried beneath the falling earth and rocks; but nothing certain was known of the fact, till the receipt of the Portland Advertiser of Tuesday, which contains the following account, and which puts an end to all hope that fears previously entertained were unfounded:

"A gentleman from this town, who has recently returned from Conway, has favored us with some of the particulars of a disaster, near the Notch of the White Hills, which happened last week. The afternoon had been rainy, and the weather continued so till eleven o'clock in the evening, when it cleared away. About the same hour, a great noise was heard, at the distance of several miles, like the rushing down of rocks and much water from the mountains. The next morning, the people, at Conway, could pcrceive that some disaster, of no ordinary character, had happened, by the appearance of the mountains on each side of the road. On repairing to the spot, they found the house of Mr. Willey, standing near the Notch, unhurt, but destitute of any of the family. It is supposed that they left it in their fright, and were instantly swept away, and buried under the rocks and earth which were borne down by the freshet. This family consisted of Mr. Willey, his wife, five children, and two hired men, all of whom were suddenly swept from time to eternity, by this lamentable disaster. Had they remained in the house, they would, probably, have been safe. Three of those unfortunate persons have since been dug out from under the earth and rocks which were carried along with them.

"All the out-buildings were destroyed, with the horses in the stable. The oxen were saved.