vice may triumph for a season, and virtue fail to meet its appropriate reward, yet nothing can confer on the first, nor snatch from the last, that substantial happiness which is ever afforded to the mind conscious of rectitude. The self-conviction which stings the vicious mind would make a diadem a crown of thorns. The mens sibi conscia recti can make a gallows as triumphant as a throne. Such is the moral which the author designs to convey. If a darker punishment awaits the guilty, or a purer reward is in reserve for the virtuous, we must look for them to that righteous Judge, whose hand wields at once the sceptre of mercy and the sword of justice. And now having prepared this brief preface, to stand like a portico before his simple edifice, the author would cordially and respectfully make his bow, and invite his guests to enter, If his little volume is read, he will be amply repaid; if approved, he will be richly rewarded. HANSFORD. CHAPTER I. "The rose of England bloomed on Gertrude's cheek; Far western worlds." Gertrude of Wyoming. AMONG those who had been driven, by the disturbances in England, to seek a more quiet home in the wilds of Virginia, was a gentleman of the name of Temple. An Englishman by birth, he was an unwilling spectator of the revolution which erected the dynasty of Cromwell upon the ruins of the British monarchy. He had never been able to divest his mind of that loyal veneration in which Charles Stuart was held by so many of his subjects, whose better judgments, if consulted, would have prompted them to unite with the revolutionists. But it was a strong principle with that noble party, who have borne in history the distinguished name of Cavaliers, rarely to consult the dictates of reason in questions of ancient prejudice. They preferred rather to err blindly with the long line of their loyal forbears in submission to tyranny, than to subvert the ancient principles of government in the attainment of freedom. They saw no difference between the knife of the surgeon and the sword of the destroyer-between the wholesome medicine, administered to heal, and the deadly poison, given to destroy. 1* 5 Nor are these strong prejudices without their value in the administration of government, while they are absolutely essential to the guidance of a revolution. They retard and moderate those excesses which they cannot entirely control, and even though unable to avoid the descensus Averni, they render that easy descent less fatal and destructive. Nor is there anything in the history of revolutions more beautiful than this steady adherence to ancient principles-this faithful devotion to a fallen prince, when all others have forsaken him and fled. While man is capable of enjoying the blessings of freedom, the memory of Hampden will be cherished and revered; and yet there is something scarcely less attractive in the disinterested loyalty, the generous self-denial, of the devoted Hyde, who left the comforts of home, the pride of country and the allurements of fame, to join in the lonely wanderings of the banished Stuart. When at last the revolution was accomplished, and Charles and the hopes of the Stuarts seemed to sleep in the same bloody grave, Colonel Temple, unwilling longer to remain under the government of a usurper, left England for Virginia, to enjoy in the quiet retirement of this infant colony, the peace and tranquillity which was denied him at home. From this, the last resting place of the standard of loyalty, he watched the indications of returning peace, and with a proud and grateful heart he hailed the advent of the restoration. For many years an influential member of the House of Burgesses, he at last retired from the busy scenes of political life to his estate in Gloucester, which, with a touching veneration for the past, he called Windsor Hall. Here, happy in the retrospection of a well spent life, and cheered and animated by the affection of a devoted wife and lovely daughter, the old Loyalist looked forward with a tranquil heart to the change which his increasing years warned him could not be far distant. His wife, a notable dame of the olden time, who was selected, like the wife of the good vicar, for the qualities which wear best, was one of those thrifty, bountiful bodies, who care but little for the government under which they live, so long as their larders are well stored with provisions, and those around them are happy and contented. sessed of a good mind, and of a kind heart, she devoted herself to the true objects of a woman's life, and reigned supreme at home. Even when her husband had been immersed in the cares and stirring events of the revolution, and she was forced to hear the many causes of complaint urged against the government and stoutly combatted by the Colonel, the good dame had felt far more interest in market money than in ship money-in the neatness of her own chamber, than in the purity of the Star Chamber—and, in short, forgot the great principles of political economy in her love for the more practical science of domestic economy. We have said that at home Mrs. Temple reigned supreme, and so indeed she did. Although the good Colonel held the reins, she showed him the way to go, and though he was the nominal ruler of his little household, she was the power behind the throne, which even the throne submissively acknowledged to be greater than itself. Yet, for all this, Mrs. Temple was an excellent woman, and devoted to her husband's interests. Perhaps it was but natural that, although with a willing heart, and without a murmur, she had accompanied him to Virginia, she should, with a laudable desire to impress him with her real worth, advert more frequently than was agreeable to the heavy sacrifice which she had made. Nay more, we have but little doubt that the bustle and self-annoyance, the flurry and bluster, which always attended her domestic preparations, were considered as a requisite condiment to give relish to her food. We are at least certain of this, that her frequent strictures on the dress, and criticisms on the manners of her husband, arose from her real pride, and from her desire that to the world he should appear the noble perfection which he was to her. This the good Colonel fully understood, and though sometimes chafed by her incessant taunts, he knew her real worth, and had long since learned to wear his fetters as an ornament. Since their arrival in Virginia, Heaven had blessed the happy pair with a lovely daughter-a bliss for which they long had hoped and prayed, but hoped and prayed in vain. If hope deferred, however, maketh the heart sick, it loses none of its freshness and delight when it is at last realized, and the fond hearts of her parents were overflowing with love for this their only child. At the time at which our story commences, Virginia Temple (she was called after the fair young colony which gave her birth) had just completed her nineteenth year. Reared for the most part in the retirement of the country, she was probably not possessed of those artificial manners, which disguise rather than adorn the gay butterflies that flutter in the fashionable world, and which passes for refinement; but such conventional proprieties no more resemble the innate refinement of soul which nature alone can impart, than the plastered rouge of an old faded dowager resembles the native rose which blushes on a healthful maiden's cheek. There was in lieu of all this, in the character of Virginia Temple, a freshness of feeling and artless frankness, and withal a refined delicacy of sentiment and expression, which made the fair young girl the pride and the ornament of the little circle in which she moved. Under the kind tuition of her father, who, in his retired life, delighted to train her mind in wholesome knowledge, she possessed a great advantage over the large majority of her sex, whose education, at that early period, was wofully deficient. Some there were indeed (and in this respect the world has not changed much in the last two centuries), who were tempted to sneer at accomplishments superior to their |