quoted in reference to the quality of the water that supplies the
fountains of the Nile. The following sentence shows us an Indian woman
and her son, practising their simple process in the manufacture of salt,
at a fire of wind-strewn boughs, the flame of which gleams duskily
through the arches of the forest: "From a variety of information, I find
the smallest quantity made by a squaw, with the assistance of one boy,
with a kettle of about ten gallons' capacity, is half a bushel per day;
the greatest with the same kettle, about two bushels." It is
particularly interesting to find out anything as to the embryo, yet
stationary arts of life among the red people, their manufactures, their
agriculture, their domestic labors. It is partly the lack of this
knowledge--the possession of which would establish a ground of sympathy
on the part of civilized men--that makes the Indian race so shadow-like
and unreal to our conception.

We could not select a greater contrast to the upright and unselfish
patriot whom we have just spoken of, than the traitor Arnold, from whom
there is a brief note, dated, "Crown Point, January 19, 1775," addressed
to an officer under his command. The three lines of which it consists
can prove bad spelling, erroneous grammar, and misplaced and superfluous
punctuation; but, with all this complication of iniquity, the ruffian
General contrives to express his meaning as briefly and clearly as if
the rules of correct composition had been ever so scrupulously observed.
This autograph, impressed with the foulest name in our history, has
somewhat of the interest that would attach to a document on which a
fiend-devoted wretch had signed away his salvation. But there was not
substance enough in the man--a mere cross between the bull-dog and the
fox--to justify much feeling of any sort about him personally. The
interest, such as it is, attaches but little to the man, and far more to
the circumstances amid which he acted, rendering the villany almost