on both sides, died of the extreme heat, and by drink ing cold water.

In September 1780, an attempt was made to take off our Washington, and by means which I can hardly believe the old British lion was ever well pleased with.

I allude to the affair of Arnold's treason. That which makes rogues of thousands, I mean Extravagance, was the ruin of this great soldier. Though extremely brave, he was of that vulgar sort, who having no taste for the pleasures of the mind, think of nothing but high living, dress, and show. To rent large houses in Philadelphia-to entertain French Ambassadors-to give balls and concerts, and grand dinners and suppers-required more money than he could honestly command. And, alas! such is the stuff whereof spendthrifts are made, that to fatten his Prodigality, Arnold consented to starve his Honesty and provided he might but figure as a gorgeous Governor, he was content to retail, by the billet and the gill, wood and rum unfairly drawn from the commissary's store!

Colonel Melcher, the barrack master, mentioned the matter to Congress, who desired him to issue to General Arnold no more than his proper rations. He had scarcely returned home when Arnold's servant appeared with an order for another large supply of Rum, Hickory wood, &c. &c.

"Inform your master," said Melcher, "that he can't have so much."

Arnold immediately came down; and in a great passion asked Colonel Melcher, if it was true he had protested his bill?

"Yes, sir!"

"And how durst you do it?"

"By order of Congress, sir."

At this, Arnold, half choked with rage, replied, "D-n the rascals! I'll remember them for it. Sampson-like I'll shake the pillars of their Liberty temple about their ears.

On the evacuation of Philadelphia by the British, Gen. Arnold had been appointed temporary governor of that city, where he behaved like a desperado, who hesitates at nothing to stop the deadly leaks of his prodigality, and to keep himself from sinking. Among other bold strokes, he seized and sold large quantities of American property, pretending it was British. Complaints were made to Congress, who, unwilling to expose the man who had fought so gallantly for Liberty, treated him with great gentleness: and for the same reason, Washington, after a mild reproof, gave him the command of West Point, with a large body of troops.

The history of Arnold's embarrassments and his quarrel with his countrymen, soon reached New York. The British commander, well knowing the ticklish situation of a proud man, caught on the horns of poverty, sends up major Andre, with money in his pocket. The major, by means yet unknown to the public, got near enough to Arnold to probe him; and, alas! found him, both in principle and purse, hollow as an exhausted receiver, and very willing to be filled up with English guineas. English guineas, to the tune of ten thousand, with the rank and pay of Brigadier General, are offered him: and Arnold agrees, Oh! shocking to humanity! Arnold agrees to sacrifice Washington.

The outlines of the project were, it seems, that Arnold should make such a disposition of the troops at West Point, as to enable Sir Henry Clinton, so completely to surprise them, that they must inevitably, either lay down their arms or be cut to pieceswith General Washington among them!! The victorious British were then, both by land and water, to rush upon the feeble and dispirited residue of the American army, in the neighbourhood, utterly unable to resist, when there would follow such a slaughter of men, and such a sweeping of artillery, ammunition, stores, &c. &c., as would completely break

down the spirit of the nation, and reduce them to unconditional submission to the Ministry!

To be certified of this delightful truth, Andre, during Washington's absence from West Point, comes ashore from a sloop of war, with a surtout over his regimentals; spends a day and night with Arnold; sees with his own eyes, the dear train laid, the matches lighted, and every thing in readiness, a few nights hence, to send the old Virginia farmer and his republic to destruction.

Every thing being settled to satisfaction, Andre wishes to set off to carry the glorious news to General Clinton. But, behold! by a fine stroke of Providential interference, he cannot get on board the ship!! Arnold gives him a horse and a pass to go to New York by land. Under the name of Anderson he passes, in safety, all the guards. Now, like an uncaged bird, and light as the air he breathes, he sweeps along the road. His fame brightens before himstars and garters, coaches and castles, dance before his delighted fancy-even his long-loved reluctant Delia (Miss Seward) is all his own-she joins in the nation's gratitude-softly she rolls her eyes of love, and brightening in all her beauty, sinks on his enraptured breast! In the midst of these, too, too happy thoughts, he is met by three young militia men. Though not on duty, they challenged him. He answers by the name of Anderson; shews his pass; and bounds away. Here the guardian genius of Columbia burst into tears-she saw the fall of her hero, and her country's liberties crushed for ever. Dry thine eyes, blest saint, thy Washington is not fallen yet. The thick bosses of Jehovah's buckler are before the chief: and the shafts of his enemies shall yet fall to the earth, accurst-For, scarce had Andre passed the young militia-men, before one of them tells his comrades, that "he does not like his looks;" and insists that he shall be called back, and questioned again. His answers prove him a spy

He would have fled: but they level their muskets Trembling and pale, he offers them an elegant goldwatch to let him go. No! He presses on them a purse bloated with guineas. No! He promises each of them a handsome pension for life-but all in vain. The power that guarded Washington was wroth with Andre. On searching him they find in his boot, and in Arnold's own hand-writing, a plan of the whole conspiracy! Sons of the generous soul, why should I tell how major Andre died! The place where his gallows stood is overgrown with weeds-but smiling angels often visit the spot; and it was bathed with the tears of his foes.

His candour, on his examination, in some sort expiated his crime. It melted the angel soul of Washington and the tears of the hero were mingled with the ink that signed the death-warrant of the hapless youth. The names of the young men who arrested poor Andre, were, John Paulding, David Williams, and Isaac Van Vert. They were at cards under a large poplar that grew by the road, where the major was to pass. Congress rewarded them with silver medals; and settled on each of them $200 annually, for life.

American writers have recorded a thousand handsome things of unfortunate Andre. They have made him scholar, soldier, gentleman, poet, painter, musician, and, in short, every thing that talents and taste can make a man. The following anecdote will show that he was much greater still.

Some short time before that fatal affair which brought him to his end, (said my informant, Mr. Drewy, a painter, now living at Newbern,) a foraging party from New-York made an inroad into our settlement near that city. The neighbours soon assembled to oppose them; and, though not above fitteen years old, I turned out with my friends. In company was another boy, in age and size nearly about my own speed. We had counted on a fine chase.