carry with him, if possible, the beautiful autumn sunshine, and the
glories of the mountains.

Of the fine old border town, in which many of the scenes of the story
are laid, much might be said, if it were here necessary, that Thomas
Lord Fairfax, Baron of Cameron, and formerly half-owner of Virginia,
sleeps there--that Morgan, the Ney of the Revolution, after all his
battles, lies there, too, as though to show how nobles and commoners,
lords and frontiersmen, monarchists and republicans, are equal
in death--and that the last stones of old Fort Loudoun, built by
Lieutenant, afterwards General, Washington, crumble into dust there,
disappearing like a thousand other memorials of that noble period, and
the giants who illustrated it:--this, and much more, might be said of
Winchester, the old heart of the border, which felt every blow, and
poured out her blood freely in behalf of the frontier. But of the land
in which this old sentinel stands it is impossible to speak in terms
of adequate justice. No words can describe the loveliness of its fair
fields, and vainly has the present writer tried to catch the spirit of
those splendid pictures, which the valley unrolls in autumn days. The
morning splendors and magnificent sunsets--the noble river and blue
battlements, forever escape him. It is in the midst of these scenes
that he has endeavored to place a young hunter--a child of the
woods--and to show how his wild nature was impressed by the new life
and advancing civilization around him. The process of his mental
development is the chief aim of the book.

Of the other personages of the story it is not necessary here to
speak--they will relieve the author of that trouble; yet he cannot
refrain from asking in advance a friendly consideration for Miss
Redbud. He trusts that her simplicity and innocence will gain for