who did honour to their profession. A young clergyman named Westerloe, succeeded Domine Freylinghausen, after an interval of three or four years, during which the charge was irregularly filled. This young man had learning, talent, and urbanity; he had all the sanctity of life and animated eloquence of his predecessor, without his love of power, his bustling turn, or his eargerness for popularity; he was, indeed, a person of very singular merit, but studious and secluded, and unwilling to mix with strangers. To madame, however, he was open and companionable, and knew and valued the attractions of her conversation. Dr. Ogilvie was the English Episcopal minister, who, under the name of Indian missionary, and with a salary allowed him as such, had the charge of performing duty in a church erected for that purpose in town, to strangers, and such of the military as chose to attend. The Christian Indians, who were her particular charge, lived at too great a distance to benefit by his labours. The province, however, allowed a salary to a zealous preacher, who laboured among them with apostolic fervour, and with the same disregard to the things of this world. Dr. Ogilvie was highly respected, and indeed much beloved by all who were capable of appreciating his merit. His appearance was singularly prepossessing his address and manners entirely those of a gentleman. His abilities were respectable, his doctrine was pure and scriptural, and his life exemplary, both as a clergyman and in his domestic circle, where he was peculiarly amiable; add to all this a talent for conversation, extensive reading, and a thorough knowledge of life. The Doctor was indeed a man after madame's own heart: and she never ceased regretting his departure to New-York, where he was settled two years after. For Stuart* she had the utmost veneration. Perfect : * A pious missionary in the Mohawk country. ly calculated for his austere and uncourtly duties, he was wholly devoted to them, and scarce cast a look back to that world which he had forsaken. Yet he was, on various accounts, highly valued by madame; for since the appointment. of the superintendant, and more particularly since the death of the colonel, he became more important to her, as the link which held her to the Mohawks, whom she now saw so much more seldom, but always continued to love. The comprehension of her mind was so great, and her desire for knowledge so strong, that she found much entertainment in tracing the unfoldings of the human mind in its native state, and the gradual progress of intellect when enlightened by the gentle influence of pure religion; and this good father of the deserts gratified her more by the details he was enabled to give of the progress of devotion and of mind among his beloved little flock, than he could have done by all that learning or knowledge of the world can bestow. Again the Flats began to be the resort of the best society. She had also her nephews in succession; one, a brother of that Philip so often mentioned, since better known to the world by the appellation of General Schuyler, had been long about the family. He was a youth distinguished for the gracefulness of his person, and the symmetry of his features. He was a perfect model of manly beauty, though almost as dark as an Indian. Indeed, both in looks and character, he greatly resembled the aborigines of the country. He seemed perfectly unconscious of the extraordinary personal advantages which he possessed; was brave, honourable, and possessed a very good understanding, but collected within himself; silent, yet eloquent when he chose to interest himself, or was warmed by the occasion; and had such stainless probity, that every one respected and trusted him. Yet he was so very indifferent to the ordinary pleasures and pursuits of life, and so entirely devoted to the sports of the field, that when his aunt afterwards procured him a com mission in a marching regiment, hoping thus to tame and brighten him, he was known in Ireland by the name of the handsome savage. This title did not belong to him in the sense we most often use it; for his manners were not rude or harsh in the least, though an air of cold austerity, which shaded his fine countenance, with his delight in solitary amusements, led the gay and social inhabitants of the country in which he resided, to consider him as unwillingly rescued from his native forests. This youth was named Cortland, and will be more particularly mentioned hereafter. That eccentric and frolicsome boy, whose humorous sallies and playful flights were a continual source of amusement, was also a frequent guest, but did not stay so long as his elder brother, who certainly was, of all aunt's adopted, the greatest favourite, and became more endeared to her, from being less successful in life than the rest of his family. In a council held between their relations and madame, it was decided that both Cortlandt and Cornelius should try their fortune in arms. Cortlandt was made an ensign in an old regiment, and went over to Ireland. Cornelius, a year after, got a commission in the fifty-fifth, then commanded by that singularly worthy and benevolent character, Sir Adolphus Oughton. The mayor was highly respected for his wisdom; yet his purchasing a commission for so mere a boy, and laying out for it a sum of money which appeared large in a country where people contrived to do very well with wonderfully little of that article, astonished all his countrymen. Conscious, however, of his son's military genius, and well knowing that the vivacity that filled his grave kinsman with apprehension, was merely a lambent flame of youthful gaiety, which would blaze without scorching, he fearlessly launched him into a profession in which he hoped to see him attain merited distinction; while the excellent patroness of all these young people had the satisfaction of seeing every one brought up under her auspices, (and, by this time, they were not a few,) do honour to her instructions, and fill up their different stations in a manner the most creditable and prosperous; and she was often surrounded by the children of those who had engaged her earliest cares. CHAP. XLIV. Burning of the house at the Flats-Madame's removal-Journey of the author. It was at this time, when she was in the very acme of her reputation, and her name never mentioned without some added epithet of respect or affection, that her house, so long the receptacle of all that was good or intelligent, and the asylum of all that was helpless and unfortunate, was entirely consumed before her eyes. In the summer of this year, as General Bradstreet was riding by the Flats one day, and proposing to call on madame, he saw her sitting in a great chair, under the little avenue of cherry-trees that led from her house to the road. All the way as he approached, he saw smoke, and at last flames, bursting out from the top of her house. He was afraid to alarm her suddenly; but when he told her, she heard it with the utmost composure; pointed out the likeliest means to check the fire; and ordered the neighbours to be summoned, and the most valuable goods first removed, without ever attempting to go over the house herself, when she knew she could be of no service; but with the most admirable presence of mind, she sat still with a placid countenance, regulating and ordering every thing in the most judicious manner, and with as much -composure as if she had nothing to lose. When evening came, of that once happy mansion not a single beam was left, and the scorched brick walls were all that remained to mark where it had stood. Madame could not be said to be left without a dwelling, having a house in Albany rather larger than the one thus destroyed. But she was fondly attached to the spot which had been the scene of so much felicity, and rendered more dear to her by retaining within its bounds the remains of her beloved partner. She removed to Pedrom's house for the night. The news of what had happened spread every where; and she had the comfort of knowing, in consequence of this misfortune, better than she could by any other means, how great a degree of public esteem and private gratitude she had excited. The next day people came from all quarters to condole, and ask her directions where and how she would choose to ave another house built: and in a few days the ground was covered with bricks, timber, and other materials, brought there by her friends in voluntary kindness. It is to be observed, that the people in the interior of New-York, were so exceedingly skilful in the use, not only of the axe, but all ordinary tools used in planing and joining timber, that, with the aid of a regular carpenter or two to carry on the nicer parts of the work, a man could build an ordinary house, if it were a wooden one, with very little more than his own domestics. It can scarce be credited that this house, begun in August, was ready for aunt's reception against winter, which here begins very early. But General Bradstreet had sent some of the king's workmen, considering them as employed for the public service, while carrying on this building. The most unpleasant circumstance about this new dwelling was, the melancholy hiatus which appeared in front, where the former large house had stood, and where the deep and spacious cellars still yawned in gloomy |