country for miles. I gazed on the surrounding woods, and remembered that on this selfsame spot, the beautiful and accomplished young man walked back and forth, a few minutes preceding his execution, taking an earnest farewell look of earth and sky. My heart was sad within me. Our guide pointed to a house in full view, at half a mile's distance, which he told us was at that time the head-quarters of General Washington. I turned my back suddenly upon it. The last place on earth where I would wish to think of Washington is at the grave of André. I know that military men not only sanction but applaud the deed; and, reasoning according to the maxims of war, I am well aware how much can be said in his defence. That Washington considered it a duty, the discharge of which was most painful to him, I doubt not. But, thank God, the instincts of any childhood are unvitiated by any such maxims. From the first hour I read of the deed, until the present day, I never did, and never could, look upon it as otherwise than cool, deliberate murder. That the theory and practice of war commends the transaction, only serves to prove the infernal nature of war itself.... A few years ago, the Duke of York requested the British Consul to send the remains of Major André to England. At that time two thriving firs were found near the grave, and a peach-tree; which a lady in the neighbourhood had planted there, in the kindness of her heart. The farmers who came to witness the interesting ceremony generally evinced the most respectful tenderness for the memory of the unfortunate dead, and many of the children wept. A few idlers, educated by militia trainings and Fourth of July declaration, began to murmur that the memory of General Washington was insulted by any respect shown to the remains of André; but the offer of a treat lured them to the tavern, where they soon became too drunk to guard the character of Washington. It was a beautiful day, and these disturbing spirits being removed, the impressive ceremony proceeded in solemn silence. {644} The coffin was in good preservation, and contained all the bones, with a small quantity of dust. The roots of the peach-tree had entirely interwoven the skull with their fine network. His hair, so much praised for its uncommon beauty, was tied, on the day of his execution, according to the fashion of the times. When his grave was opened, half a century afterwards, the riband was found in perfect preservation, and sent to his sister in England. When it was known that the sarcophagus containing his remains had arrived in New York, for London, many ladies sent garlands and emblematic devices, to be wreathed around it, in memory of the 'beloved and lamented André.' In their compassionate hearts, the teachings of nature were unperverted by maxims of war, or