in

intentions. The inducement constantly held out was the liberation of New Spain, an enterprize surpassing in brilliancy the conquest by Cortez. It was asserted that it was to be undertaken with the knowledge and tacit approbation of Mr Jefferson, and that the army and navy of the United States would be ready, case of war with Spain, to render assistance. Circumstances rendered this highly probable. General Wilkinson was at that time encamped on the north side of the Sabine with two regiments of American troops, and Salcedo on the other side with an equal force, and they were expected to come to blows. The situation of Burr, in relation to Mr Jefferson, seemed to favour the idea that his voluntary expatriation would be encouraged, and the official station of the former, as vice president of the United States, was such as to enable him to impose upon individuals by false representations, if he chose to make them. Whether he made them as to General Wilkinson, I do not pretend to say; but he certainly did hold out the idea that he had a perfect understanding with that officer, and that his arrival on the Red river in October, with a few thousand men, would be the signal for the commencement of hostilities with the Spaniards, when Burr would join Wilkinson, and then raise the standard in the Mexican territories. Burr did not reach Smithland until November, and even then had not more than three hundred men. His partizans say, that it was owing to this failure that Wilkinson took

his measures, and discovered the treason of Burr and his followers. Light may be thrown upon the subject by Burr himself; for the present, I can only say, that the truth is not yet before the public.

CHAPTER XII.

THE AUTHOR LEAVES PITTSBURGH-ADVENTURE OF THE BEE-HUNTER-ARRIVES AT CARLISLE AND RESUMES HIS STUDIES-MYSTERIOUS VOICE-GOES TO BALTIMORE.

ON a cold frosty morning of November, a youth might have been seen, on a stout Canadian poney, issuing from the busy town of coal smoke and coal smell, wrapt up in a great coat, with well stuffed saddlebags, and otherwise equipped for a journey over the mountains. Our knight errant appeared at one moment in deep thought, and in the next without any thought at all. He was quitting the busy little world and its scenes, where he had received his earliest and most lasting impressions, while the great world rose in vision before him, with all its imaginary shapes and towers. The thoughts of youth are like the waves of the sea; every breath of air gives a new impulse to the moving mass of ideas, that chase each other to the shore. Our adventurer dashed a tear from his eye when he thought of the kind friends he had left, and the many days of pleasure he had passed; but when fancy pointed to the fairy

scenes of the future, his mourning face shone with joy, and anon he fell to kicking the sides of his heavy-gaited nag. In the language of the Abbé Du Pradt, cet homme, cetait moi.

The situation just described may be ranked among the few happy periods of our existence. As we ascend the hill, and the novelty which invests the distant prospect with an azure hue begins to wear away, we lose at the same time the fine sensibility which makes the charm of life. There were circumstances in my destiny which made me sometimes feel alone in the world, and may have contributed to render my disposition an alternation between melancholy in the one extreme, and delirious vivacity in the other. I admired the juste milieu; but like the pendulum of a clock, it could only be attained by me, by becoming entirely motionless. There were times when the face of nature appeared to be hung with black;' at other times, 'every spot could please.', Perhaps I am only describing the feelings common to all my fellow-men. We are apt to think there is something peculiar in ourselves. This was the mistake of Rousseau, to which I have already made an allusion.

A truce to moralizing. As I advanced in my journey, the love of novelty and incident gave way to the gayer genius; I thought of Gil Blas, and Tom Jones, and even of Don Quixotte, and began to cheer the solitary road by a ditty not worth the price of an opera ticket. The plans and prospects of my future life gradually took possession of my thoughts. I was to remain some time at Carlisle, and then either return to

take up my residence in the west, or go to the blooming south in search of fortune. And then, what wonders to be wrought by me at the bar! Here I began a speech to the jury, and in the midst of it popped upon a string of wagons, and then roared out,

'The glasses sparkle on the board.'

But finding that the jingling of the horse bells prevented the lords of the road from hearing me, I stopped my music, taking care to nod my head with civility as I passed, which was only noticed by surly looks from them. The idea of settling east of the mountains had not entered into my plans, for this would be reversing the course of emigration and enterprise; but my father had also formed his plans, to which I conformed through respect, although against my instinct, which drove me to the west, as the young turtle, after being hatched by the sun, takes to the water.

My journey across the mountains produced no very important incident, until I passed Bedford. At a streamlet, named Bloody Run on account of some murder committed in early times (a name calculated to call up unpleasant associations), as I stopped to let my horse drink, there suddenly emerged from the woods a tall man of ferocious appearance, with a bushy head, a butcher knife hanging to his girdle in a leather sheath, an axe held on his shoulder by one hand, while the other was slung in a handkerchief tied round his neck. He laid down his axe, and then stooped to drink with the