save that the elder had more gentleness of soul, and the younger less ambition for popularity, than their ancient prototypes. After offering their respects to the Lady, whom from childhood they had honoured as an epitome of all that was noble in woman, they spoke kindly to the the poor soldier, who had risen at their entrance.
"Sit down, my good fellow," said General ———," I am sorry that you have lost so much, by your country's gain."
"General," he answered, unconsciously elevating his crutch to his shoulder, as if it had been a musket, "I have lost only a hand and a leg. Many have lost more, and seen their country enslaved beside. I had rather this head should have gone likewise, than not to have heard that shout of victory when Burgoyne was taken."
The piercing eye of Colonel ——— flashed with a warriour's pleasure. The recollection of that event was dear to his soul. He knew not then how conspicuous his own noble form should appear in later times, on the canvas of the illustrious Trumbull; deputed both to witness, and pourtray the brilliant events which led to his country's liberty. But the picture of the memory was, at that moment, more vivid in the mind of Colonel ———, than it could have been rendered by the pencil of the artist.
Glowing recollections, and proud feeling, retouched the traces of the scene; and in an instant countless images thronged around him. The deeply marked, and interesting countenance of Burgoyne, the ill-concealed melan-
