John Butler was lavish of promises in order to draw him out, in which he succeeded, by persuading him, that if he would consent to a parley in the open field, the siege would soon be raised, and every thing accommodated. John retired, in fact, with all his corps; Zebulun afterwards marched out to the place appointed for the conference, at a considerable distance from the fort; from motives of caution, he took with him four hundred men, well armed, being nearly the whole strength of the garrison. If this step was not dictated by treachery, it must, at least, be attributed to a very strange simplicity.

9. Having come to the spot agreed on, Zebulun found no living being there. Reluctant to return without an interview, he advanced towards the foot of a mountain, at a still greater distance from the fort, hoping he might find some person to confer with. The farther he proceeded in this dismal solitude, the more he had occasion to remark that no token appeared of the presence or vicinity of human creatures. But far from halting, as if impelled by an irresistible destiny, he continued his march. The country, meanwhile, began to be overshaded by thick forests; at length, in a winding path, he perceived a flag, which seemed to wave him on. The individual who bore it, as if afraid of treachery from his side, retired as he advanced, still making the same signals. But already the Indians, who knew the country, profiting by the obscurity of the woods, had completely surrounded him. The unfortunate American, without suspicion of the peril he was in, continued to press forward, in order to assure the traitors that he would not betray them. He was awakened but too soon from this dream of security; in an instant the savages sprung from their ambush, and fell upon him with hideous yells.

10. He formed his little troop into a compact column, and showed more presence of mind in danger than he had manifested in negociations. Though surprised, the Americans exhibited such vigour and resolution that the advantage was rather on their side; when a soldier, either from treachery or cowardice, cried out aloud

"The colonel has ordered a retreat." The Americans immediately break, the savages leap in among the ranks, and a horrible carnage ensues. The fugitives fall by missiles, the resisting by clubs and tomahawks. The wounded overturn those that are not; the dead and the dying are heaped together promiscuously. Happy those who expire the soonest! The savages reserve the living for tortures! and the infuriate tories, if other arms fail them, mangle the prisoners with their nails! Never was rout so deplorable; never was massacre accompanied with so many horrors. Nearly all the Americans perished; about sixty escaped from the butchery, and with Zebulun, made their way good to a redoubt upon the other bank of the Susquehanna.

11. The conquerors invested Kingston anew; and to dismay the relics of the garrison by the most execrable spectacle, they hurled into the place above two hundred scalps, still reeking with the blood of their slaughtered brethren. Colonel Dennison, who commanded the fort, seeing the impossibility of defence, sent out a flag to inquire of Butler what terms would be allowed the garrison, on surrendering the fort. He answered, with all the fellness of his inhuman character, and in a single word the hatchet. Reduced to this dreadful extremity, the colonel still made what resistance he could. At length, having lost almost all his soldiers, he surrendered at discretion. The savages entered the fort, and began to drag out the vanquished; who, knowing the hands they were in, expected no mercy. But, impatient of the tediousness of murder in detail, the barbarians afterwards bethought themselves of enclosing the men, women, and children, promiscuously in the houses and barracks, to which they set fire, and consumed all within; listening, delighted, to the moans and shrieks of the expiring multitude.

12. The fort of Wilkesbarre still remained in the power of the the colonists of Wyoming. The victors presented themselves before it; those within, hoping to find mercy, surrendered at discretion, and without resistance. But if opposition exasperated these feròcious men, or rather these tigers, insatiable of human

blood, submission did not soften them. Their rage was principally exercised upon the soldiers of the garrison; all of whom they put to death, with a barbarity ingenious in tortures. As for the rest, men, women, and children, who appeared to them not to merit any special attention, they burned them as before, in the houses and barracks. The forts being fallen into their hands, the barbarians proceeded, without obstacle, to the devastation of the country. They employed at once, sword, fire, and all instruments of destruction. The crops, of every description, were consigned to the flames. The habitations, granaries, and other constructions, the fruit of years of human industry, sunk in ruin under the destructive strokes of these cannibals.

QUESTIONS.

1. Where was the settlement of Wyoming?-2. By whom was it made?-3. How many soldiers did they furnish the American army?-4. Why did not the despatches, sent to Washington for relief, reach him?-5. When did the Excision of Wyoming take place?-6. Under whose command was the colony placed?-7. What became of the women and children in forts Kingston and Wilkesbarre ?

NEW-ENGLAND.

HAIL to the land whereon we tread,
Our fondest boast;

The sepulchre of mighty dead,
The truest hearts that ever bled,
Who sleep on glory's brightest bed,
A fearless host;

No slave is here-our unchain'd feet
Walk freely, as the waves that beat
Our coast.

Our fathers cross'd the ocean's wave
To seek this shore ;

They left behind the coward slave
To welter in his living grave;

With hearts unbent, high, steady, brave,
They sternly bore

Such toils as meaner souls had quell'd; But souls like these, such toils impell'd To soar.

Hail to the morn, when first they stood On Bunker's height;

And fearless stemm'd th' invading flood,
And wrote our dearest rights in blood,
And mow'd in ranks the hireling brood,
In desp'rate fight;

O! 'twas a proud, exulting day,
For ev'n our fallen fortunes lay
In light.

There is no other land like thee,
No dearer shore;

Thou art the shelter of the free;
The home, the port of liberty
Thou hast been, and shall ever be,
Till time is o'er.

Ere I forget to think upon

My land, shall mother curse the sop
She bore.

Thou art the firm, unshaken rock,
On which we rest;

And, rising from the hardy stock,
Thy sons the tyrant's frown shall mock,
And slavery's galling chains unlock,
And free th' oppress'd-

All who the wreath of freedom twine,
Beneath the shadow of their vine,
Are blest.

We love thy rude and rocky shore,
And here we stand-

Let foreign navies hasten o'er,
And on our heads their fury pour,
And peal their cannon's loudest roar,
And storm our land;

They still shall find our lives are giv'n
To die for home; and leant on heav'n
Our hand.

TORNADO IN BARBADOES.

1. It was now the month of October, 1780, and the inhabitants of the islands were in the enjoyment of that unexpected tranquillity which resulted from the cessation of arms, when their shores, and the seas that washed them, were assailed by so dreadful a tempest, that scarcely would there be found a similar example in the whole series of maritime records, however replete with shocking disasters and pitiable shipwrecks. If this fearful scourge fell with more or less violence upon all the islands of the West Indies, it no where raged with more destructive energy than in the flourishing island of Barbadoes. It was on the morning of the tenth, that the tornado set in, and it hardly began to abate forty-eight hours after. The vessels that were moored in the port, where they were considered in safety, were wrenched from their anchors, launched into the open sea, and abandoned to the mercy of the tempest. Nor was the condition of the inhabitants on shore less worthy of compassion.

2. In the following night, the vehemence of the hurricane became yet more extreme; houses were demolished, trees uprooted, men and animals tossed hither and thither, or overwhelmed by the ruins. The capital of the island was well nigh rased to a level with the ground. The mansion of the governor, the walls of which were three feet in thickness, was shaken to its foundations, and every moment threatened to crumble in ruins. Those within had hastened to barricade the doors and windows, to resist the whirlwinds; all their efforts were of no avail. The doors were rent from their hinges, the bars and fastenings forced; and chasms started in the very walls. The governor, with his family, sought refuge in the subterraneous vaults; but they were soon driven from that shelter, by the torrents of water that poured like a new deluge from the sky.

3. They issued then into the open country; and, with extreme difficulty and continual perils, repaired under the covert of a mound, upon which the flag-staff