brothers, as were not bred to any learned profession, but by throwing them into the army. As to morals, this did not, perhaps, much mend the matter. These officers might, in some instances be thoughtless, and even profligate, but they were seldom ignorant or low bred; and that rare character, called a finished gentleman, was not unfrequently to be found among the higher ranks of them—who had added experience, reading, and reflection, to their original stock of talents and attainments. ------- CHAP. XXIII. Colonel Schuyler’s partiality to the military children successively adopted—Indian character falsely charged with idleness. IT so happened that a succession of officers, of the description mentioned in the preceding chapter, were to be ordered upon the service which I have been detailing; and whether in New-York or at home, they always attached themselves particularly to this family, who, to the attractions of good breeding, and easy, intelligent conversation, added the power, which they pre-eminently possessed, of smoothing the way for their necessary intercourse with the independent and self-righted settlers, and instructing them in many things essential to promote the success of the pursuits in which they were about to engage. It was one of aunt Schuyler’s many singular merits, that, after acting for a time a distinguished part in this comparatively refined society, where few were so much admired and esteemed, she could return to the homely good sense and primitive manners of her fellow-citizens at Albany, free from fastidiousness and disgust. Few, indeed, without study or design, ever better understood the art of being happy, and making others so. Being gay is another sort of thing; gaiety, as the word is understood in society, is too often assumed, artificial, and produced by such an effort, that, in the midst of laughter, “the heart is indeed sad.” Very different are the smiles that occasionally illume the placid countenance of cheerful tranquillity. They are the emanations of a heart at rest; in the enjoyment of that sunshine of the breast, which is set forever to the restless votaries of mere amusement.