""How sorry I am, Miss Frazier," said he, " to find you a captive in such a place, and in the hands of such a man !-But I forget-you do not know me in this disguise. Alas! has the form of him who loves you with an ardor beyond whatever man has felt for woman, made so slight an impression upon your mind, that the mere changing of the hue of his countenance can conceal him from your recollection? Must I name to you the man who loves you with a tenderness and a devotedness, which none but himself can ever feel?—alas, must I name to you-GEORGE WASHINGTON ?"' Vol. II. pp. 227-229.

It is much to be regretted, that Chantry and Canova, who have taken so much pains in devising attitude and costume for the immortal Washington, never happened to imagine him with porcupine's quills, leggins, and moccasins in the character of a Piantia chief.

After a tender interview the plan of escape is settled. Washington produced from under his robe the habiliments of a squaw.'

"These,” he continued, "when the proper time arrives, you will throw over your other clothes, and thus concealed, you will act as my interpreter with the sentinel, and solicit his permission for me to pass out of the fort to worship, according to the custom of the Piantia chiefs, beneath a red oak tree, to which you are to guide me." Vol. II. p. 831.

'It was nearly twelve o'clock, everything in the Governor's house was still and silent; even the squaw had retired to rest, and, excepting those of Washington and Maria, it is probable that there was not at that moment a wakeful eye under its roof.

'Washington stole cautiously out of doors, in order to view the state of matters in other parts of the garrison. All was as motionless and silent as his heart could wish. The measured tramp of the sentinel at the fortress gate, was alone to be heard; and, although it was in the middle of July, the clouds of night seemed to perform their office with much effect, and the face of nature was enveloped in a tolerably thick mantle of darkness.

'Having ascertained this favorable situation of things, the young hero bent his soul to the business for which he had thus ventured into the strong hold of his enemies. He ascended to the chamber of Maria. He found her waiting with impatience for his appear

ance.

""Miss Frazier," said he, "thank heaven, the moment is favorable. Haste, lovely maiden, throw on your disguise. Be of good courage, and let us proceed from this abode of wickedness and brutality, God will open the way for us."

"A minute or two sufficed to make her ready. She caught Washington's arm. They descended the stairs slowly and without noise, and boldly walked across the area towards the gate.

"Hallo! who comes there?" shouted the sentinel.

("You are my interpreter, remember," whispered Washington to Maria, "as I do not speak French.")

"We are friends," replied Maria to the sentinel, imitating, as well as she could, the pronunciation and tone of a squaw.

""And where are you going, my friends," asked the soldier, "at this hour? Why does your comrade remain dumb, mistress ?"

"This is the Indian chief," she replied, "that came here to day with the Mingo prophet. He cannot speak your language, and on that account requested me to solicit your permission for him to pass out and worship the Great Spirit beneath the branches of the red oak, as all the chiefs of his nation have been accustomed to do at this hour of the night, twice every moon, once in the full, and once in the wane."

"And pray, Mrs Squaw, what is your business with this chief? Let him go and worship till he rots, if he pleases; but for you, my dame, I would advise you rather to go to sleep. He can worship devoutly enough without your help, I dare say. Turn back, mistress, if you please." Here the sentinel pushed her somewhat back from him, while she replied, in considerable fright

"Ah, sir, my good soldier! I must indeed go with this chief. He is a stranger, and does not know where to find a red oak tree -I must guide him."

"Let him take the first tree he meets," said the sentinel; "it will answer the same purpose, whether it be oak or hiccory. But as for you, dame square toes, I say you shall not pass here to night. No, by St Peter! I shan't risk disobeying orders so far."

"Sir," observed Maria, her agitation having so much increased that she forgot her assumed character of the squaw, and to the surprise of the soldier, spoke good French-" Sir," said she, "this chief declares that he will not go without me. Oh! pray, do now, my good friend, permit us both to pass, and heaven will bless you!"

"Heh! who are you?" cried the sentinel. "I protest you seem somewhat too christianized for a squaw. By the holy mother! but I believe there is something wrong in this affair. The Governor has a lady in keeping. I think I must keep you both within the walls, till we see who you are. I'll be broiled, if it would not cost me a bullet in my heart, if I allowed that lady to escape. Back to your quarters this moment, or by the devil! I shall call the guard."

"Alas!" said the frightened Maria in English to Washington,

while the sentinel was uttering this tirade; we are discovered, we are ruined! Ah me! he threatens to call the guard upon us!"

At that instant the sentinel seized Maria rudely by the arm, and endeavored to separate her from the chief, calling out loudly for the assistance of the guard; but the next instant he fell, with a dagger plunged to the hilt, by the whole of Washington's tremendous force, in his heart.

'The hero seized the trembling Maria in his arms, for terror had rendered her unable to support herself, and hastening with his beloved burden out of the fort, to the spot where Tonnaleuka, attended by Paddy Frazier, had appointed to wait with horses, Maria was in a moment placed on one of them, and her strength being sufficiently recovered, Tonnaleuka led the way through the woods; she followed, and Washington and Paddy brought up the rear.' Vol. II. pp. 237-239.

Soon after the escape we have an éclaircissement. Washington, thinking probably that he had now bought a title to the lady's regard, renews his suit, and then learns for the first time, from the beloved of his soul,' that her heart is another's, at which Washington staggers and turns pale. Presently news arrives that Captain Adderly's life is respited by his Indian captors, at Tonnaleuka's intercession, until Monday noon. It is now the heroine's turn to stagger and turn pale. However, 'the most judicious means within reach were applied for her recovery, and in about seven or eight minutes' (as our author avers) the organs of vitality began to resume the performance of their functions.' In about

seven or eight minutes more, as near as we have been able to calculate, Washington pressed her hand to his burning lips, (it was the first time we are told he had taken that liberty,) and tore himself away.

The scene then changes to the head waters of Chartier's creek.' Monday noon has arrived, and Captain Adderly is bound to the stake.

C Remalseh gave a shout of joy that all was secure, and had just retired a few paces from Charles, when a troop of cavalry burst, like a clap of thunder, down the eastern hill; a loud huzza rang through the air, while at the same instant, a volley from a number of carbines levelled Remalseh, Taksuma, and five other Indians to the earth. The rest of the savages had scarcely waited to see this slaughter of their chiefs, but had fled in dreadful panic, in various directions, into the adjoining woods. In a moment the sword of Washington had cut the bands of Adderly, and the hapless victim

was rescued from the fire of savage vengeance, ere a single particle of it had touched his body.' Vol. II. pp. 260, 261.

The hero being thus restored, by the generosity of Washington, to the arms of the heroine, Tonnaleuka takes the opportunity to discover himself as the father of Maria, and the same gentleman who ran wild into the woods at his wife's death. He was a Scotchman by birth, a Frenchman by adoption, and an Indian by reputation. The whole family then remove out of the wilderness, since they had experienced enough of adventure there to fill up two good sized volumes, and consequently had no longer any motive for staying. Gilbert returns to his first settlement on the Juniata, now become a civilised place. The hero and the heroine are duly married; and, as for Washington,

'His heart having suffered much, he became serious, and contemplative, even in the days of his youth; but he had done his duty, and hence he was blest with the consciousness of self approbation, and with the possession of a magnanimous firmness, an independence, and a fearlessness in all his actions and intercourse with the world. Having parted with the only object that could engross his whole affections, and being naturally free from every close and selfish feeling, his heart regarded all men as his brothers, it cherished his country as his only mistress, and hearkened to his duty as his only master. In short, from the day on which it was forced to abandon the tender hopes of a youthful and enthusiastic love, it would be impossible to find an example of human nature having produced a heart more purely and entirely devoted to all the calls of philanthropy, patriotism and duty, and productive of actions more conducive to the benefit of the world, than the heart of WASHINGTON.' Vol. II. pp. 291, 292.

It cannot be reckoned among the least of the benefits, which Washington has thus conferred upon the world, that he has been the occasion of so remarkable a work as that we have above noticed. For ingenuity and originality we are sure the author of the Wilderness must stand unparalleled among American novelists. We have indeed, before this, seen Washington placed in extraordinary situations; but who besides our author ever imagined him,

'Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow?'

Who ever before thought of General Washington thridding the mazes of a cotillon upon light fantastic toe,' or march

ing with the true aboriginal parrot toed gait in an elegant costume of party colored feathers, and porcupine's quills! We have had no room to notice the minor characters in the book; but we can assure our readers that they are all as well sustained, and have as much verisimilitude as that of Washington himself.

We are glad to learn from the introduction to the 'Spectre of the Forest,' that our author has found with the public all the favor, which he so highly deserves. We have no time for a minute analysis of this latter work. We can only say, there is nothing in it quite equal to Washington; but still, upon the whole, it is rather a bolder attempt than the Wilderness. The scene is laid chiefly in Connecticut, and the manners of our puritan ancestors are intended to be described. The machinery of horror is far more various and complicated than in the Wilderness. We have wars, Indians, wild beasts, witches, trials, hangings, mobs, pirates, regicides, all conspiring against the reader's peace in every page. But on the other hand, we have the solace of such society as Prior, Dryden, Addison, besides the king and the queen, judges, bishops, dukes, lords, and gentlemen, which to be sure we are obliged to go to England to enjoy, but with which we are amply repaid for all our trouble, seeing so many and so great personages as familiarly as Scott himself could have shown them. The Spectre, who appears and disappears in a most astonishing manner on all great occasions, and constantly stands ready to help the author through every difficulty, turns out to be no other than Goffe, one of those who subscribed to Charles' execution, and who is said to have secreted himself for several years in this country.

ART. XII.-Debate in Congress on the Bill to amend the several Acts for imposing Duties on Imports. 1824.

On examining the speeches made upon the tariff question, we find that, as far as the principle of the restrictive policy goes, the argument is given up by its friends. Under the form of ridicule ineffectually cast on several distinguished