Having now once for all given (to the best of my recollection) a faithful sketch of aunt’s opinions on this intricate subject, I shall not recur to them, nor by any means attempt to enter into any detail of the dark days that were approaching. First, because I feel unspeakable pain in looking back upon occurrences that I know too well, though I was not there to witness: in which the friends of my early youth were greatly involved, and had much indeed to endure, on both sides. Next, because there is little satisfaction in narrating transactions where there is no room to praise either side. That waste of personal courage and British blood and treasure, which were squandered to no purpose on one side in that ill-conducted war, and the insolence and cruelty which tarnished the triumph of the other, form no pleasing subject of retrospection; while the unsuccessful and often unrewarded loyalty of the sufferers for government, cannot be recollected without the most wounding regret. The years of madame, after I parted with her, were involved in a cloud raised by the conflicts of contending arms, which I vainly endeavoured to penetrate. My account of her must therefore, in a great measure, terminate with this sad year. My father taking in spring decided measures for leaving America, entrusted his lands to the care of his friend John Munro, Esq. then residing near Clarendon, and chief magistrate of that newly peopled district; a very worthy friend and countryman of his own, who was then in high triumph on account of a fancied conquest over the supporters of the twenty mile line; and thought, when that point was fully established, there would be no further obstruction to their realizing their property to great advantage, or colonizing it from Scotland, if such should be their wish. Aunt leaned hard to the latter expedient, but my father could not think of leaving me behind to await the chance of his return; and I had been talked into a wish for revisiting the land of my nativity. I left my domestic favourites with great pain, but took care to introduce them to aunt, and implored her, with all the pathos I was mistress of, to take an interest in them when I was gone; which she very good naturedly promised to do. Another very kind thing she did. Once a year she spent a day or two at General Schuyler’s. I call him by his latter acquired title, to distinguish him from the number of his namesakes I have had occasion to mention. She now so timed her visit (though in dreadful weather) that I might accompany her, and take my last farewell of my young companions there: yet I could not bring myself to think it a final one. The terrible words _no more_, never passed my lips. I had too buoyant a spirit to encounter a voluntary heartache by looking on the dark side of any thing, and always figured myself returning, and joyfully received by the friends with whom I was parting. ------- CHAP. LXI.