bluff. In a little time a number of chiefs came down, bearing a white flag. Their subdued and docile countenances assured every one that there was no danger. When they came on board, inquiries were made whe ther the prisoners had been collected, and where they were to be found? To which they answered that as yet none had arrived, but that runners had gone after them several days before, and that they would soon come. After considerable exertion, Henry learned where Mrs. B. was. He procured a guide to accom

the remainder of his days, to cultivate his fields in peace. | whom they had been teaching to swim at the riverHenry gathered strength and hopes rapidly. Very side, were seen rapidly ascending to the top of the soon he was on his feet. His person quickly swelled out into its former fulness and manliness; but, a cloud now and then settled upon his brow; the fate of her to whom he ardently desired to unite his fortunes, and who had long possessed his purest affections, was as yet unknown-but rumors came that Emily's father had been murdered, and his family saved. After a painful and protracted suspense, news was brought to the commissioners that the terms prescribed to Tuskenehaw and his tribe were accepted. It went by express to the east, and to the west, and soon reached all who were in-pany him, and quickly reached the town, where his terested in this glorious and joyful event. It was arranged that an exchange of prisoners should be effected as quickly as possible.

A large company had set out from western Virginia, immediately after the meeting of the commissioners and Indians, and had arrived at a landing on the Holston before the conclusion of the peace. They were already nearly prepared to descend the river (having constructed boats) for Nashville, the point to which all emigrants first directed their attention. Henry was informed of the intended movement of this party. Fired with the thought of ascertaining the fate of Emily and her family-of restoring them to liberty and to their friends-he prepared to make a rapid journey to East Tennessee, and to descend the river with the emigrants. In aid of these views, several persons, whose relations were held in captivity, proposed to go over-land to the nation, and aid in collecting all the prisoners at Nicojack, whence they might be taken on board the boats. After a hasty preparation, Henry and his servant were ready to set out. Going to the wife of the commander, to bid her farewell, she said that she had packed up with his baggage some bundles for Mrs. B. and her family, which she desired might be sent to them before he saw them. She knew, she said, that they must be in need of every thing. There was so much delicacy in this precaution of this admirable and ever thoughtful woman, that Henry was deeply affected. Pursuing the trace through the wilderness, with all the speed that was practicable, Henry reached the landing just in time to embark with the emigrating party. There were seventeen boats in company, and more than four hundred persons on board. The hopes and spirits of the party were elevated to the greatest degree, for they no longer feared that cunning and lurking foe, who had been the terror for so many years of every enterprising settler.

presence created a strong sensation. Making his way towards the cabin where Mrs. B. was, she espied him, and perceiving that he was a white man, she hastened to meet him. When she ascertained who he was, she was wholly overpowered, and burst into tears. With the quick discernment of a mother, she saw in an instant the cause of his coming; and she perceived as quickly, from these evidences of fidelity and devotion, on the part of him whom she loved with the greatest ardor, that her daughter's future happiness would be unspeakable. Moreover, this widowed woman would find in the husband of her child a faithful protector of herself and her family. The virtues of this gallant young man, shone forth to the view of Mrs. B., at this moment, with superadded lustre. Henry answered the anxious inquiries of Mrs. B., and detailed all the leading events that had transpired in the settlements since the capture of the boat. They were of course listened to with profound interest and emotion. After some hasty preparations, the two sat out for the town. Henry delivered the clothing which had been brought by him for Mrs. B., Emily, and the rest of the children. The next day news was brought that all the prisoners would arrive that evening or in the morning. Mrs. B. intimated to Henry that she wished to have a private interview with Emily before he saw her, and to which he readily assented. About an hour before sun-down, a long train of travellers approached the town, mounted on Indian ponies. Emily's mother was unable any longer to repress her feelings. She acknowledged aloud her gra titude to God, for the restoration of her children, after their long and perilous captivity. She walked, she at last ran to meet her. The daughter recognized her mother, and, alighting, they were in a moment locked in each other's arms. Both wept in silence-they were the tears of joy mingled with those of sorrow. Mrs. B. When this little fleet was drawn up to the shore, as and Emily returned and took shelter for the night in an it was sometimes, in the journey, the young men, with Indian cabin. Having somewhat adjusted her dress, their dogs and fowling pieces, penetrated the thick con- Mrs. B. went in search of Henry, and directed him tiguous woods, and shot down game, of which there where to find her daughter. When he reached the door, was the greatest abundance. When the mornings Emily was sitting near it. Seeing her, he sprang forwere fine, and the boats were moving swiftly over the ward, embraced her, and exclaimed, “My long lost bosom of the swelling stream, the young men and girls Emily!" She extended her hand, but was unable ascended to the tops of the decks, and danced to the to utter a word. Her affection and gratitude overcame tunes of the violin. The gravity of the older people her. The two little girls had not yet arrived. But they was relaxed amidst these scenes of innocent hilarity came the next morning, accompanied by the old woman, and joy. At last the voyagers came in sight of Nico-Luggi. She was the miserable personification of desjack. The heart of Henry was filled with tumultuous pair. She had evidently been weeping for a long time. emotions. The conflict between the hopes and anxie- The children had totally forgotten their mother. When ties and fears that raged within him, almost over- she attempted to take them and caress them, they ran powered him. As the vessels neared the shore, more screaming to the squaw, and threw their arms around than a dozen squaws, with their children following them, her neck-she embracing them tenderly and talking in

invigorated that he can follow the closest chain of argument, detect the most subtle fallacy, apprehend the most intricate speculation, when he comes forth among his fellow-men, is, frequently, still wrapt up in mental abstractions-feels nothing that he handles--sees not the objects that cast their images on the mirror of vision--hears no sound however forcibly its vibrations ring upon his tympanum. Or, if he be not thus absent minded, his thoughts wander and rove about, like birds liberated from their cage, dwelling but for a moment on each object--free as air--as light, too, and empty. Nothing makes a lasting impression. The habit of attentive observation can be formed only by long prac tice--not in the closet, but in the busy haunts of active life. From the penetralia of the study may issue proper inmates for a cloister; but he, who intends to strive for

din and bustle, the quick eye, the sensitive ear, which no movement, no breath escapes. And the study of which we speak, while it sharpens the outward senses, will compare, to its advantage, with any other, as a mere intellectual exercise.

more properly, of every class of the community into which he may be thrown. Used in this sense, it may be regarded as the true source of gentility, if from the latter we abstract the idea of high birth, so that it be considered only as the distinctive quality of a gentleman, and define a gentleman, as some author has well done, to be a man who is at ease in every sort of company. For this ease is always the result of self-confidence, arising from a knowledge of the principles of elegant behavior. It is true, there may be a certain boldness of demeanor, springing from a very different source ignorance and vulgarity; but this is awkward rudeness, not graceful ease. Knowledge of the world also signifies knowledge of mankind-of human nature; and, either in this sense, or in one compounded from this and the former, is most frequently employed. Different circumstances may alter, at least in appear-mastery in the world, can acquire, only amid the world's ance, the relative value of these two sorts of knowledge. They who engage in the active, arduous business of the world should lose no opportunity of gaining an insight into the principles and motives of human action. There is all the hazard of the gaming-table, in dealing with our fellow-men, if we know nothing of that moral But it has a higher recommendation than its interestarithmetic, by which may be calculated the chances of ing character, or fitness to develope the mental powers-others' conduct. On the contrary, they who make its intrinsic value. Some knowledge of the human pleasure their main object, may, consistently enough nature must be possessed by every one who pretends with this mode of life, prize good-breeding—a fami- to have any, even the most trivial, dealings with his liarity with the usages of society, the most highly. fellow-men; and none, however dull the perceptions, However, it is very certain that each of these, not only however vacant the mind, can go through life without assists, but, in some degree is necessary to the other. acquiring a certain proportion of it. Even the instinct No one can become a perfect gentleman, according to of animals seems to give them some acquaintance with our borrowed definition of that character, without a man's character; and perfect idiots often possess a considerable acquaintance with human nature. With-moderate share of acuteness-a sort of animal cunning, out it, a person may go through the common forms of which governs their intercourse with the world. But, civility, from mere habit, but is entirely at a loss how when, to the force of habit and necessary casual obserto act in any emergency which requires a nice percep-vation, are added close attention and systematic study, tion of the feelings of others, dependence on his own powers of invention, and an inherent sense of propriety. “The least variation from established precedents will totally distract and bewilder him." And, on the other hand, he who would make man his study, beside the ease which is absolutely essential to the successful study of any object, should possess that knowledge of the usages of society, which will fit him for unrestrained and refined intercourse with his fellow-men-the objects of his investigations.

no bounds can be assigned to our attainable knowledge of mankind. And what advantage—what power does an intimate acquaintance with the human heart confer ? In every profession-in every business, they are felt, though they never can be estimated. The learning of the schools, bodily skill, energy, and courage, are of little avail, when knowledge of the world, the guide to all their noblest achievements, is wanting.

But the value of this knowledge is not greater than the difficulty of its acquirement. Few ever attain to a But my further remarks must be confined to a single close familiarity with the various motives-reason, head-knowledge of human character. Even if the passion, fitful whim, and lasting prejudice, which opestudy of mankind were productive of no practical ad-rate upon the mind, and determine the will. It requires vantage, it would still be an interesting and dignified a comprehensiveness of intellect, an acuteness of perpursuit; and, if the only solid benefits to be derived ception, and a patient study, which are rarely comfrom it were that habit of close observation and undi-bined. No pursuit can be more delightful, so much vided attention, and that acuteness of mind, which it that is new and keenly interesting rises to the learner's tends to engender or improve, it might be recommended view, at every step of his progress. And, then, the as an exercise to strengthen the intellect, in preference consciousness of each step's importance-of the advanto almost any other. The studies usually adopted for tage which it gives, enhances greatly his pleasure. But this purpose have one great disadvantage: they sharpen the formation of a habit of fixed attention, so necessary the apprehension of abstract truth and error, correct the to any long continued intellectual effort, and, under all judgment, strengthen the reason, and improve the circumstances, demanding great energy and persevememory; but the external senses--those which hold rance, here meets with peculiar difficulties. A person converse with the objects of the outer world, are enfee-accustomed to the profoundest mental abstractions, in bled, or, at least, in no degree benefited. The student the closet, on coming out into the world, if he give himwho leaves his chamber for amusement or bodily exer- self to what is passing around, is confused by the concise, after intense application to mathematical or meta-stant hurry and noise, and the quick succession of physical investigations, his intellect having been so objects, and cannot command his thoughts, or bring

them to bear upon a single point. The attention is called off at every moment. Doubtless many will remember frequent resolutions, made under a strong sense of the importance of the task, to set about the study of mankind in earnest.

THE BUSY-BODY-No. IV.

Saturday, May 19th.

And I dressed myself in my best suit of black, which is the color I always wear--it saves money, when relations happen to bequeath the misfortune of going into mourning.

Lawrie Todd.

The most perfect character is composed of elements the most strongly and incessantly conflicting; their violence, however, being usually imperceptible from the nice correspondence of their strength; the mind being kept in a state of equilibrium, more or less stable, by many antagonist forces. A well poised mind is, proverbially, of all, the best. The predominance of any one faculty or feeling destroys that balance of power, which is no less important in the mental than in

Wherever these purposes have been formed-in the street, the public assembly, or the drawing-room, they have, immediately, commenced to execute them. An unpractised eye, a mind without discipline, are slow in their operations; and some, after a few glances and listless reflections, have probably concluded, that there, at least, nothing was to be learned, and given up their plan from mere sluggishness. But the greater number have been insensibly led away from the object of pursuit by the thousand forms, material and ideal, constantly flitting before them; have forgotten the task imposed, while indulging the luxuries of sight and hear-political economy. ing, or forming new purposes of study and amusement. Thus, in every character, tender sensibility and The chief difficulty, however, lies in the nature of the ready emotions are opposed, and, to some degree kept science itself. The mind is not like a machine acted in check, by a calculating spirit—a disposition to regard upon by measured and regular impulses. You may utility alone. All have experienced the conflict bedetermine the operation of the most complicated engine tween these repugnant principles. Feeling will someof human invention, with certainty, because the force times creep over the soul, and usurp dominion, when and number of the springs or other impelling powers, conscience tells us that reason should bear sway: pity may be clearly ascertained. The revolutions of planets warm and soften the heart, though justice dictates stern may be calculated, notwithstanding the numerous per-determinations. So, too, thoughts, cold, and worldly, turbations of their orbits. But the various influences and selfish, will oft break in upon the spirit of devotion, which decide human conduct cannot all be detected by the glow of refined joy, the swelling sympathies of the nicest scrutiny. A single disturbing cause, and compassion and of love, and the silent musings of deep that deep-hidden, often produces effects quite contrary sorrow, when they seem polluting and almost sacrileto expectations formed from the most profound deduc-gious. The extreme, in one case, is that entire subjections. Scarcely on any two minds do the same motives tion to impulse and emotion, which makes a man the operate with equal force. And, after all, he who is creature of each momentary feeling: in the other, that best acquainted with human nature, does but calculate constant and passionless regard to the suggestions of chances, when seeking to determine what course worldly prudence, which might be almost rivalled by another will take under particular circumstances. The an intricate calculating machine. The former failing, sway of passion, as it cannot be controlled, so also can- however, meets with our ready indulgence, or even our not be estimated. But, still, though our knowledge of esteem: we are apt to attribute the fault to nature, that man's character is always an uncertain guide, and as gave such a warm heart, such quick sensibility, rather nought compared with the omniscience of Deity, it than to the individual himself. But the latter excites admits of wonderful improvement; and he, who has disgust and contempt: we call it unnatural; though profited most by observation and study, will calculate there seems no good reason for the accusation: Dame the chance most nearly. When results. are variable, Nature, in her freaks-as some irreverently name her we generally approximate the truth, with the increase eccentricities—is just as likely to leave one heartless, as in the number of accurate observations compounded. to make him all heart. The true reason of this differThis is eminently the case in regard to the investiga-ence is, that experience of the qualities, which best fit tions of which I have been speaking. an individual for social duties, begets in us a dislike for everything akin to selfishness.

But what effect upon a person's own character does a profound knowledge of human nature produce? There is certainly danger that the power which it confers will be misdirected; and so may be any sort of knowledge or any good. No argument against a thing, drawn from its abuse, can be valid, until it is shown that its advantages are less than the evils of such abuse. A knowledge of mankind may also tend to cherish religious skepticism, and a disregard of virtue, in minds not well balanced by education and the force of principle.

But this is the tendency of many branches of study-scientific study in particular-at which no one, now-a-days, pretends to rail on that account. Know ledge, universally, is power; and power, in the hands of men lacking good principles, whether such principles have never been instilled into their minds, or have been corruptly abandoned when possessed, is always prejudicial both to superiors and inferiors.

The idea of founding calculations of pecuniary profit or loss upon the possibility of events so mournful as the death of relatives and friends is repugnant to all refined and tender feeling. At least our kindred we should love as ourselves: this is much narrower than the golden rule. If then a man shrinks from the duty of framing his last will and testament, while yet in health and strength, because of the mournful thoughts and gloomy anticipations which the employment brings; because death seems nearer the more attentively it is viewed; according to this law of love, he should feel the same unwillingness to make a settlement depending for its effect upon the decease of a wife or child. These arrangements, indeed, no matter how acute his sensibilities, common prudence forbids to omit. The great evil which might result from their neglect, far outweighs every consideration of mere feeling. But it is very

clear, that he, who regulates trifling interests by a con- | the coffin," none could say. Unluckily, the same daughtinual anticipation of those times of bereavement, which ter at length fell into the doctor's hands again, and this overwhelm the souls of most men with bitterness; who time nature was outwitted: the child died. Perhaps is willing to conjure up forms of wo, and dwell upon the thought that a coffin waited for her hastened her the thoughts which they inspire, for the least promise end. To her bed of rest she was gathered, and slept of gain, has not a heart warmed by the common affec- not the less peacefully, for being somewhat cramped in tions of humanity. The exhibition of such unfeeling a tenement which she had outgrown. sordidness, as would lead one to provide against the risk of trivial pecuniary loss from the death of friends, by wearing, constantly, the garb of mourning, though, in fiction it may excite only a smile, must, in real life, waken feelings akin to disgust. Still more repugnant to our better nature is the intrusion of these petty considerations of selfishness, upon the consecrated gloom of sorrow; and, if they sometimes come unbidden, the mind should scarce acknowledge to itself their presence; much less should they be exposed to public view, as boasted tokens of superior worldly wisdom.

A few months ago I paid a visit of condolence to a friend of mine in affliction: he had lately buried one of his children—a promising boy of about eight years old. I had put off the call as long as a decent regard to the claims of friendship would permit, as I always do at such a time, unless my assistance in its sad offices be needed. The unfeeling crowd of consolers, that usually throng the house of sorrow, if ever successful in driving away grief, succeed but by harassing the mind of the afflicted mourner-by making the second wo greater than the first. Silence and retirement are the only balms that soften and purify the heart, in healing its wounds. I did not expect to find my friend overcome by the violence of his distress: he had never seemed like one who could easily be melted into tears. He is a man in moderate circumstances, and has a large household to support. Many years ago he settled in our neighborhood, then just beginning the world, and having but a single child. The family has since increased with wonderful rapidity, and the father has received my congratulations, on the accession of every new comer, with smiles growing fainter and more melancholy at each successive visitation, until, on the last occasion, when twins-a fine boy and girl-were ushered into the world, he received the friends that came to rejoice with him, with such a wry face, though striving to appear resigned, that it was evident he had been greatly startled by the magnitude of nature's present.

Some of my readers may have heard the story of a man, who, from motives of economy, bought a coffin for his daughter, before her decease. I will not vouch for its truth-the authority is perhaps doubtful. The child was lying dangerously ill-as he supposed, at the point of death; and even the physicians had pronounced the case hopeless, and had left her to struggle with fate. The agonized father was principally occupied with thoughts of the funeral expenses; and, as there was reason for fearing an advance in the price of boards, and a strike for higher wages among the journeymenundertakers, he soon resolved to anticpate the rising market, and ordered a coffin to be made immediately. But nature peeping out from her retreat, and seeing no physician near, began, though timidly at first, to assert her dominion. Calm sleep once again lulled the girl's young frame, and she awoke, at length, with a brighter eye and a pulse more free. Her father, alarmed for the success of his speculation, could hardly credit the joyful intelligence; but, after assuring himself of its truth, hurried off, with palpitating heart, to countermand his former orders. But the undertaker, with a despatch suited to the supposed emergency, had already done his work-the coffin was waiting for its tenant. The parent returned, in no very enviable state of feeling, to the bed-side of his child, thinking that, perhaps, he had been too hasty in listening to the voice of hope. All doubt, however, was now dispelled. The doctors had returned in time to take to themselves the credit of a wonderful cure, and they congratulated him warmly upon this new triumph of the healing art: in short, his daughter, in due time, completely recovered. It was in vain to attempt concealment. The story had already gotten abroad, and many a joke was circulated at the poor man's expense. Such expense, however, he did not much lay to heart. But there was the coffin upon his hands a dead loss, in all likelihood; for the town in which he lived was not very large, and was noted for its health. And then, coffins are, usually, made to order, and by exact measurement, which increased his risk to a fearful extent. For some years no tenant for this narrow lodging offered. During that period, he is On calling at my friend's house, to condole with him said to have displayed an uncommon regard for children, for the loss of his son, I found him alone, seated at his particularly such as were of about the size of his daugh- desk, and intent on a paper, which the first glance told ter, surveying them attentively from head to foot, when-me was covered with figures: he is trying, thought I, a ever he met with them, as if to judge of their propor-new remedy for grief-the application of the rules of tions. Whether, at such moments, his "heart was in arithmetic. On hearing the sound of my voice, he rose,

I have said that he was in moderate circumstances; and, without being miserly, he has always seemed fearful of being reduced to want; perhaps not without reason, since the mouths to be supplied have so rapidly increased both in capacity and number. Indeed, while the household has gathered strength, the house has been gradually falling into ruin, for want of repairs. The birth of each child has defeated some plan for painting or plastering; and the twins had like to have driven every such purpose forever from his thoughts. Several times, especially of late, I have found him, when I called, busily engaged in calculation of his "ways and means," and then it has been impossible to lead our conversation away from the subject of finance. If his spirits are at any time dejected, he seeks relief in computing the next month's debts and credits; and the indication, on his balance-sheet, of a surplus revenue always restores equanimity. So particular is he in keeping accounts, that he can tell exactly what the maintenance and education of every one of his children, for each year of its life, has cost; and has carefully computed how many more youngsters will suffice to ruin him.