distinguished officers in the American army. Mrs. Arnold, having obtained from General Washington a passport and permission to join her husband in the city of New York, left West Point, and on her way stopped at the house of Mrs. Prevost, in Paramus, where she stayed one night. On her arrival at Paramus the frantic scenes of West Point were renewed, and continued so long as strangers were present. Mrs. Prevost was known as the wife of a British officer, and connected with the royalists; in her, therefore, Mrs. Arnold could confide.

"As soon as they were left alone Mrs. Arnold became tranquillized, and assured Mrs. Prevost that she was heartily sick of the theatrics she was exhibiting. She stated that she had corresponded with the British commander-that she was disgusted with the American cause, and those who had the management of public affairs-and that, through great persuasion and unceasing perseverance, she had ultimately brought the general into an arrangement to surrender West Point to the British. Mrs. Arnold was a gay, accomplished, artful, and extravagant woman. There is no doubt, therefore, that, for the purpose of acquiring the means of gratifying an inordinate vanity, she contributed greatly to the utter ruin of her husband, and thus doomed to everlasting infamy and disgrace all the fame he had acquired as a gallant soldier, at the sacrifice of his blood. Mrs. Prevost subsequently became the wife of Colonel Burr, and repeated to him these confessions of Mrs. Arnold.

"The preceding statement is confirmed by the following anecdote. Mrs. Arnold was the daughter of Chief Justice Shippen, of Pennsylvania. She was personally acquainted with Major Andre, and, it is believed, corresponded with him previous to her marriage. In the years 1779-80, Colonel Robert Morris resided at Springatsbury, in the vicinity of Philadelphia, adjoining Bush Hill. Some time previous to Arnold's taking command of West Point, he was an applicant for the post. On a particular occasion, Mrs. Arnold was dining at the house of Colonel Morris. After dinner a friend of the family came in, and congratulated Mrs. Arnold on a report that her husband was appointed to a different but more honourable command. The information affected her so much as to produce hysteric fits. Efforts were made to convince her that the general had been selected for a preferable station. These explanations, however, to the astonishment of all present, produced no effect. But, after the treason of Arnold was discovered, the family of Colonel Morris entertained no doubt that Mrs. Arnold was privy to, if not the negotiator for, a surrender of West Point to the British, even before the general had charge of the post." Vol. I. pp. 219, 220.

So far from confiding in the statement thus given at second hand, we believe there is no fact, not susceptible of demonstration, better ascertained than that Mrs. Arnold was not privy to her husband's treachery. Mr. Sparks, who has examined this whole subject with the greatest care, has stated this to be his conviction; and the surviving members of the lady's family, some of them her contemporaries, are satisfied that the texture of her mind did not qualify her to be the confidante of such perilous secrets, and that Arnold knew too well the desperate game he was playing to trust her. As respects the correspondence between Andre and Mrs. Arnold prior to her marriage, the fact is probably as stated by Mr. Davis; but it is equally probable that it was a correspondence of perfect innocence-the VOL. XXI.-NO. 41.

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correspondence of a gallant young soldier with a gay young lady, devoted to happy reminiscences of feasts and balls, rather than to subtle treason or dark stratagem. We therefore confidently reiterate our discredit of the whole tale of Mrs. Arnold's privity to her husband's plans, even though supported by the reflected evidence of Mrs. Prevost.

The other point to which we refer, has relation to the promise with which Mr. Davis closes his first volume. After referring to the mystery which the author thinks still environs the history of the contested presidential election of 1801, in the house of representatives, he winds up his memoir with this grandiloquent finale :

"But the period has arrived when the question should be met with manly firmness; when the voice of history should announce to posterity the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so far as it can be ascertained. The generation which were the actors in those scenes have passed away. The parties immediately interested are sleeping the sleep of death. Few, very few, indeed, now living, understand the nature of that contest. The curtain shall be drawn aside. The documents which develop its character, and which are scattered in fragments, will be brought together, and recorded (it is hoped) in a permanent and tangible form.

"It will be seen that the immediate friends and advisers of Mr. Jefferson, until within a few hours of the balloting, had no confidence in certain leading and distinguished members of congress, whose names shall be given, but who, on his coming into power, promptly received the most substantial evidence of his kind feelings, by appointments to office. The clearest evidence will be presented that Mr. Jefferson entered into terms and conditions with the federal party or some of their leaders; that the honourable James A. Bayard, of Delaware, acted on the part of the federalists, and the honourable Samuel Smith, of Maryland, at present mayor of Baltimore, on the part of Mr. Jefferson; and that terms and conditions were agreed upon between them before Mr. Jefferson could be elected; while, on the other hand, it will be demonstrated that the charges which have been made against Colonel Burr of having intrigued and negotiated with the federal party to obtain the office of president, were as unjust as they were groundless. But 'I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him.'" p. 436.

We are far from wishing to discourage the publication of this second volume; on the contrary, we are anxious to have some of the later portions of Colonel Burr's life illustrated by the unreserved personal testimony of Mr. Davis himself, but we do not believe that it is in his power, or that of any other man living, supposing the witnesses who have testified to have told the truth, to throw any new light on the history of the election of 1801. And further, we have no hesitation in asserting, that if Mr. Davis's concluding remark is meant to convey the idea that there was a corrupt understanding between Mr. Bayard and Mr. Jefferson, there is not a shadow of authority for it, nor can he produce one tittle of evidence to sustain it. Mr. Davis must

indeed, know that the charge has been more than once clearly and conclusively disproved. If nothing more is meant than that Mr. Bayard, and those of his political friends who decided the question in favour of Mr. Jefferson, endeavoured honestly to make terms and stipulations for the protection of their party, and the maintenance of its principles, there then will be little novelty in the disclosure, since the parties concerned never, we believe, from 1801 to this hour, pretended to conceal it. We say all this in fearless anticipation of Mr. Davis's second volume.

Before closing this already, we fear, protracted view of the life and character of this singular man, we may be allowed to pause for an instant on the disclosures made of his domestic life and relations. With all the gross appetites of a libertine; with a chafed temper, that, when roused, knew no control; with disappointment preying on his heart, and excitement, at times, fretting to decay his feeble constitution; with all this to make him morose and harsh, he was, in one of his domestic relations at least, the kindest, gentlest, most affectionate of human beings; and the letters which Mr. Davis has preserved, written by Colonel Burr to his daughter, from the moment when her intellect so far dawned as to make her sensible to a father's counsel, are beautiful and interesting in the extreme. The fastidious reader may object to their details, but no one, who has felt or imagined the interest which the rearing of so tender and precious a flowret as an only daughter must inspire, can think them excessive. We find him, in the press of business, and in the midst of parliamentary turmoil, seeking refuge in the holy cell of communion with his child, and pouring out the riches of his undivided affections upon her. It seems to be with him, literally,

“A lonely pure affection unopposed."

It absorbed whatever of gentleness there was in his disposition, leaving a dark residuum of ill-governed and coarse appetite. It was the silver lining of the sable cloud which obscures his fame. It was, too, the affection of an intellectual parent, sedulous not only to make her love him, but to make her worthy of his love. Her education he seems to have guided and directed with considerate care; and the fruits of this solicitude were, we believe, in their maturity, all the anxious parent promised himself. We may exaggerate the merits of these letters from Colonel Burr to his daughter. We may have been too deeply impressed by the contrast of this correspondence with the arid ghastly destitution of virtuous and gentle sentiment which this volume exhibits; but such as they appeared to us when we first read them, we commend them to the perusal of our readers.

Utterly unlike these beautiful effusions of parental affection are the nauseous specimens of amorous sentimentalism with which Mr. Davis has filled so large a portion of his book, in the shape of letters from Mrs. Burr to her husband. What conceivable inducement could have operated on his mind to publish such stuff we are at a loss to imagine. They reflect no credit on the head or heart of the writer, and throw not a ray of light on the character of him to whom they are addressed. They are nauseous as developments of familiar imbecility, which it is painful to be compelled to witness. We know not what may be Mr. Davis's standard of refined sentiment, what his notions of the proper tone of conjugal correspondence; but as he has thought fit to palm off on the public a volume stuffed full of such specimens as the following, we have a right to infer his scale is not graduated very high:

"NEW YORK, March 22d, 1784.

"My Aaron had scarce quitted the door when I regretted my passiveness. Why did I consent to his departure? Can interest repay the sacrifice? can aught on earth compensate for his presence? Why did I hesitate to decide? Ten thousand fears await me. What thought suggested my assent? The anxiety he might suffer were he to meet with obstacles to raising the sum required; should his views be frustrated for want of the precaution this journey might secure; his mortification; mine, at not having the power to relieve him, were arguments that silenced my longing wish to hold him near me; near me for ever. My Aaron, dark is the hour that separates my soul from itself.

"Thus pensive, surrounded with gloom, thy Theo. sat, bewailing thy departure. Every breath of wind whistled terror; every noise at the door was mingled with hope of thy return, and fear of thy perseverance, when Brown arrived with the word-embarked-the wind high, the water rough. Heaven protect my Aaron; preserve him, restore him to his adoring mistress. A tedious hour elapsed, when our son was the joyful messenger of thy safe landing at Paulus Hook. Stiff with cold, how must his papa have fared? Yet, grateful for his safety, I blessed my God. I envied the ground which bore my pilgrim. I pursued each footstep. Love engrossed his mind; his last adieu to Bartow was the most persuasive token-' Wait till I reach the opposite shore, that you may bear the glad tidings to your trembling mother.' O, Aaron, how I thank thee! Love in all its delirium hovers about me; like opium, it lulls me to soft repose! Sweet serenity speaks, 'tis my Aaron's spirit presides. Surrounding objects check my visionary charm. I fly to my room and give the day to thee.

-247, 248.

THEODOSIA."

There is an incident mentioned in the early part of this volume, which, taken in connection with the career and character of him to whom it relates, is full of interest. About the year 1817, when Burr's tumultuous life began to draw towards a close, when the heyday of the blood was tamed, and passion might be supposed, at least, so far to have subsided as to leave room for good impressions, he received from a female corre

spondent a letter of affectionate but considerate religious expostulation, enclosing one from his mother, written when he was but four years old. We cannot deny ourselves the pleasure of extracting the letter of his (to us unknown) correspondent :

"My dear sir,-I trust the purity of the motives by which I am actuated will find an apology in your bosom for the liberty I assume in addressing you on a subject which involves your eternal interest.

"Here, in the wilds of, I have found an extract of a letter, written by your inestimable mother nearly sixty years ago, of which you are the principal subject; and a transcript of which I shall enclose for your perusal. Perhaps you will think me a weak, presumptuous being; but permit me, dear sir, to assure you, this does not proceed from a whim of the moment. It is not a mere transient gust of enthusiasm. The subject has long been heavy on my mind. I have more than once resolved to converse with you freely; to tell you how my own feelings were affected relative to your situation; but my faltering tongue refused to obey the impulse of my soul, and I have withdrawn abruptly, to conceal that which I had not confidence to communicate. But meeting (I believe providentially) with this precious relic has determined me. I will write, and transmit it to you. I am too well convinced of the liberality of your sentiments; but I still believe you retain an inherent respect for the religion of your forefathers.

"I have often reflected on your trials, and the fortitude with which you have sustained them, with astonishment. Yours has been no common lot. But you seem to have forgotten the right use of adversity. Afflictions from Heaven 'are angels sent on embassies of love.' We must improve, and not abuse them, to obtain the blessing. They are commissioned to stem the tide of impetuous passion; to check inordinate ambition; to show us the insignificance of earthly greatness; to wean our affections from transitory things, and elevate them to those realities which are ever blooming at the right hand of God. When affliction is thus sanctified, the heart at once it humbles and exalts.'

"Was it philosophy that supported you in your trials? There is an hour approaching when philosophy will fail, and all human science will desert you. What then will be your substitute? Tell me, Colonel Burr, or rather answer it to your own heart, when the pale messenger appears, how will you meet him-'undamped by doubts, undarkened by despair?'

"The enclosed is calculated to excite mingled sensations both of a melancholy and pleasing nature. The hand that penned it is now among the just made perfect.' Your mother had given you up by faith. Have you ever ratified the vows she made in your behalf? When she bade you a long farewell, she commended you to the protection of Him who had promised to be a father to the fatherless.

"The great Augustine, in his early years, was an infidel in his principles, and a libertine in his conduct, which his pious mother deplored with bitter weeping. But she was told by her friends that the child of so many prayers and tears could not be lost;' and it was verified to her happy experience, for he afterwards became one of the grand luminaries of the church of Christ. This remark has often been applied to you; and I trust you will yet have the happiness to find that the prayers of the righteous' have 'availed much.'

"One favour I would ask: when you have done with this, destroy it, that it may never meet the eye of any third person. In the presence of that God, before whom the inmost recesses of the heart are open, I have