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The success of the British arms at Brandywine, induced
their commander to believe that another such
meeting would be fatal to the cause of American independence,
and accordingly he determined to bring it about
as speedily as possible. Part of the British forces in
their march from Chester, passed through Darby village,
and young Morton finding himself in the vicinity
of his father's house, concluded to pay a passing visit,
at the same time requesting colonel Lindsay and major
M`Druid to accompany him.

Colin Lindsay, the young and handsome earl of Balcarras,
had already gained a footing in the family. He
was a gentleman in his manners and personal appearance,
and being at the head of a noble family of Scotland,
possessed more pride than any one individual can
conveniently carry through life without having it repeatedly
mortified.

Major M`Druid was a liberal minded Hibernian, possessing
a tall and graceful person; he had entered the
army when young, and after undergoing much actual
service in the Indies, he had the unspeakable satisfaction,
at the age of forty-five, of being promoted to a

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majority. He considered Great Britain the greatest
nation that ever existed, and was proud of his birthright.
He was loyal to his king and the existing administration,
no matter who was in, or who out, for as
he was fed by the government, he was in duty bound
to support it, without regarding the clamours of those
who wished a change.

The major had never put himself to the trouble of
investigating the right and wrong of the American
cause; this point he prudently submitted to cooler
heads than his own, and men who were liberally paid
to argue and decide upon the subject. It was the same
to M`Druid whether he served a campaign in Asia or
America, for fighting was his trade, and it remained
solely with his king to select his antagonist. If his
majesty chose a wrong one, he was to blame and not
the major, for, as he fought in obedience to the orders
of a superior, he considered himself fairly relieved from
all responsibility, provided he fought as lustily in a
wrong cause as a right one.

M`Druid from the long habit of living in camp or
garrison, had much of the roughness of the soldier
about him, though he seldom, in his most boisterous
moments, permitted his hearers to forget that he was
proud of the title of gentleman. Like most men of
his nation and profession, he was an ardent admirer of
the female sex of all ages, from fifteen to threescore;
and of all complexions, from the fair cheeked lass of
Erin's isle, to the dusky-skinned damsel of Bengal.
So she wore a petticoat, it was enough to insure the
major's respect and services. Such universal gallantry,
it must be admitted, was attended with a considerable
deal of drudgery, but like Job in the midst of his disappointments,
he would exclaim, “man is born to trouble
as the sparks fly upwards.”

The proposition was no sooner made by young Morton
to visit his father's house, than accepted by the officers.
The army had halted in the neighbourhood, and

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the young men availed themselves of this opportunity,
to execute their design. Being well mounted, it required
but a few minutes to carry them to the 'squire's
mansion, which was seated on an eminence to the west
of the village, and surrounded by the lofty oaks of the
forest. In front of the building was an extensive lawn,
around which ran the road leading to the mansion. To
the left of the lawn flowed a creek, the banks of which
were thickly covered with maple and underwood. In
this grove the arbour mentioned in the last chapter was
erected.

We shall now suppose the officers fairly arrived;
their horses transferred to the care of the trusty Jones,
and the major formally introduced to the 'squire and
his antiquated sister-in-law, Miss Rebecca Buckley.
Miss Morton was absent at the time of their arrival,
which diminished, in no slight degree, the anticipated
pleasure of colonel Lindsay. After waiting some time
for her return, Edward proposed to his young companion
to sally forth in pursuit of her, leaving the major
to entertain the 'squire and the old lady until their return.
As they passed through the hall, young Morton
perceived his fowling-piece, which he took hold of, and
they directed their steps towards the oft-frequented arbour
on the banks of the creek; not doubting that he
would find the stray one there. He was not wrong in
his supposition, as the result of the last chapter has
already made manifest to the reader.

Before we proceed, it may be proper to introduce the
reader to Miss Rebecca Buckley. She had passed her
life in single blessedness, and had now arrived at that
stage of her journey, when, if there be any truth in the
proverb, a miracle alone could save her from leading
apes in a certain place, which we will not shock the
delicacy of the reader by mentioning. Whether this is
the punishment allotted to the hard-hearted fair, we
are not at present prepared to say, but leave the point
open for discussion to more learned theologians than

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we pretend to be; however, be that as it may, Miss
Rebecca, from her own showing, should in justice be
exempt from so severe an infliction, for she had done
little else than lead apes since she commenced her
peregrinations here. Like all damsels of an indefinite
age, she had had in her time, a long list of devoted suitors,
and she was as prone as the vain-glorious Macedonian
in his cups to talk over her numerous conquests.

The father of Miss Buckley had passed his life in
trade, in the stately city of Philadelphia, and had travelled
through the various gradations of commerce, in
acquiring a fortune. He was wholly illiterate, vulgar
in his manners, and possessed of scarcely an idea, beyond
those he gathered from Cocker's Arithmetic.
Being gradually elevated by fortune, he felt proud of
her favours; and never having heard the old proverb,
“nec sutor ultra crepidam,” and which he would not
have understood had he heard it; our trader began to
play a part for which nature never designed him, and
like many others in a similar situation, made himself
ridiculous. The house which was a palace to the petty
dealer of small wares, was all too small to contain the
ostentatious and purse-proud merchant:—accordingly
such a building must be erected as would impress the
public with a due sense of his importance. An expensive
equipage was purchased, and every thing necessary
to support the outward appearance of this new
created being; but in despite of all the gifts that fortune
had so abundantly lavished, the old gentleman
remained a striking illustration of the homely proverb,
concerning a silk purse and a sow's ear. But as gold
is the only true touchstone of a man's worth in this
world, our merchant was not only countenanced, but
caressed; his company was sought after, while his wine
sparkled, and his table groaned with sumptuous viands;
and while presiding at his board, his coarse ribaldry
was not only applauded, but universally acknowledged
to be pungent and classic wit.

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Miss Rebecca was his eldest born; and as she came
to light some years before her father's affluence, her
education was such as by no means qualified her to
figure in a ball-room, among those composed of pure
porcelain. When our trader became wealthy, he endeavoured
to remedy this defect; but as the most skilful
lapidary cannot bestow a lasting polish on a piece
of granite, the labour of her preceptors was entirely
thrown away, for what little she retained of their instruction
appeared like gilding upon gingerbread, or
rather rich Valenciennes lace stitched upon an Indian
blanket.

Mr. Buckley had a second daughter, who, being several
years younger than the first, received that instruction
at a suitable age, which her father's circumstances
had obliged him to withhold from his first-born. Her
mind, unlike that of her sister, was a fertile soil, in
which the seeds of knowledge early blossomed; and as
she took delight in cultivating her understanding, she
did not fail to reap a productive harvest. In addition
her mental accomplishments, she possessed a fascinating
person, and a sweetness of disposition, that called
forth the respect and admiration of an extensive circle
of acquaintance. It was not long before a rumour of
her attractions reached the ears of Mr. Morton, who
at that time had just returned from England, a dashing
blade, and a star of the first magnitude in the galaxy of
fashion. He saw her; and as the merchant gave good
dinners, and imported his own wine, he saw her repeatedly,
although his pride occasionally took in dudgeon
the vulgar familiarity of his host; “yet,” he would
say, “Mark Antony lost the world for a woman, and
he is an ass who would not sacrifice a little pride for
a much finer girl than Cleopatra, and plenty of wine
in the bargain. Besides, it is the old man's humour,
and it is very hard that a man cannot have his humour,
who is both able and willing to pay for it.”

As the young'squire became more thoroughly

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acquainted with the character of Miss Louisa, which was
her name, he found that what he at first considered nothing
more than a mere penchant and frivolous gallantry,
was likely to ripen into a serious passion. He
became alarmed. He called his pride to his assistance;
but his pride positively refused to have any thing to do
in the matter. He called upon his long line of ancestors
to instil nobler thoughts into his mind; but they
were just about of as much service to him, in this instance,
as a man's ancestors usually are. Finding these
appeals to avail him nothing, he determined to try what
efficacy there would be in absenting himself from the
fatal atmosphere that encircled the trader's daughter;
but unluckily this remedy, like medical prescriptions,
had the effect of heightening the disease. Having ascertained
this fact, he sagely concluded that by increasing
the frequency of his visits, it could not fail to have
a contrary effect. He now almost daily drank the
trader's wine, and chatted with his daughter for hours
together, and felt perfectly well, and imagined himself
rapidly recovering; but it somehow happened, before
he had pronounced himself convalescent, he had called
a clergyman to his assistance, who by means of
a few cabalistical words, terminated his unaccountable
disorder.

Some time after the 'squire's marriage, his father-in-law
discovered that dame Fortune is but a slippery jade
at best; and that he whom she has once favoured, need
not expect to engross her smiles, for it is not unfrequently
her greatest pleasure to behold those at the bottom
of her wheel, whom once she delighted to elevate
to its summit. Our trader lived expensively, speculated
largely and injudicously, and of course was a much
shorter time in squandering his wealth than he had been
in amassing it. He was soon worth a very considerable
fortune less than nothing; and then the ephemera, who
had sported in his sunshine, vanished and left him to enjoy
his meditations alone. Such has been the way of the

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world ever since the days of Job! That patient man had
few comforters in his misery; but no sooner did the Lord
give him twice as much as he had before, “than all his
brethren, and all his sisters, and all they that had been
of his acquaintance,” came and feasted with him, and
comforted him, for he was able to comfort them tenfold
in return. And because the measure of his wealth was
full, “every man also gave him a piece of money, and
every one an ear-ring of gold.” As this is recorded in
holy writ, the present race of mortals fulfil their duty,
and most religiously emulate the example herein set by
the patriarchs. So wags the world, and so it has wagged
from the beginning, and so it will wag until time shall
be no more.

After the bankruptcy of Mr. Buckley, his son-in-law
found out, what many discover at too late a period
to remedy, that in marrying a wife he had married
a whole family; for as the old trader was unable to supply
his domestic wants, this duty, in conformity with the
custom of all christian countries, devolved upon the
'squire, who submitted with as good a grace as the case
would admit. As our merchant had, during his prosperity,
unhappily acquired an unwholesome practice
of mixing his liquors, which practice seemed to increase
since his misfortunes, he did not favour the squire
many months with the light of his countenance. He
had just drawn the second barrel of cognac to the
lees, when, melancholy to state, he lost his relish for
drinking, and in the bitterness of disappointment, exclaimed
with the Preacher, “all is vanity,”—and went
out like the snuff of a candle, that glimmers in the
socket. Out of respect to his memory, the squire
wrote his epitaph, and had it chiseled on a marble
slab, deposited over his grave; but either the 'squire
was not acquainted with his character, or was not expert
at writing puffs of this nature, for had not the
epitaph commenced in large letters—“Here lies the
body of Barnabas Buckley,” the devil himself would

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not have found it out by the fanciful description. The
'squire, in the benevolence of his heart, had made him
sober, which he certainly was after death; wise, which
by the way was also true—for if wisdom, as some contend,
consists in speaking seldom, he, by logical deduction,
must be a second Solomon who holds his
tongue for ever; pious, benevolent, charitable:—in a
word, all the cardinal virtues were freely given to him,
and he was as great and good a man, if you would
credit his tombstone, as any who rotted in the churchyard
with him.

There is nothing like a stroll through a cemetery for
elevating our estimate of the wisdom of former times;
nothing so well calculated to make us deplore the degeneracy
of our own. We there meet with infant prodigies
without number, and every third mound covers
the remains of a statesman, scholar or philosopher,
whose merits prove the gross defects of written history.
How much better would it be for the historian to gather
his materials from tombstones, instead of depending
upon the imperfect records of partial writers, for then,
instead of presenting us with a narrative of varied passion
and debasing intrigue, we should have a lesson
worthy of the emulation of mankind. What a bright
page it would present to the eye of the philanthropist,
since every man necessarily becomes a saint as soon
as he has lost the power to injure his fellow man.

About two years after the death of the trader, a prevailing
fever carried off his widow; and Mrs. Morton,
who watched the death-bed of her aged mother with
filial tenderness, unfortunately took the disorder, and
soon followed her to the grave. This bereavement
severely afflicted the 'squire, whose love and respect
for her, were rational and sincere. He had some time
previous to this, established his family at his plantation
in the vicinity of the city, and now, upon Miss Buckley
devolved the superintendence of his household concerns.

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