diff options
Diffstat (limited to '20018.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 20018.txt | 9956 |
1 files changed, 9956 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/20018.txt b/20018.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7c561e9 --- /dev/null +++ b/20018.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9956 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Evenings at Donaldson Manor, by Maria J. McIntosh + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Evenings at Donaldson Manor + Or, The Christmas Guest + +Author: Maria J. McIntosh + +Release Date: December 4, 2006 [EBook #20018] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EVENINGS AT DONALDSON MANOR *** + + + + +Produced by Ralph Janke and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + +Transcriber's note: + +Phrases enclosed in "_" are printed in italics style in the original +Phrases enclosed in "=" are printed in bold style in the original +Phrases that are printed in "small capitals" are converted into upper case + + + + +Maria J. McIntosh's Works. _PUBLISHED BY D. APPLETON & CO_ + + +I. EVENINGS AT DONALDSON MANOR; OR, THE CHRISTMAS GUEST. + +BY MARIA J. McINTOSH. + +_Illustrated with Ten Steel Engravings, 8vo., cloth, gilt edges, $3; +morocco, $4._ + + "The whole sparkle with strokes of pleasantry and lively criticism, + and ever and anon reveal most delightful pictures of fireside + groups. A high-toned morality pervades the whole. We feel sure that + the book will be a general favorite."--_Commercial Advertiser._ + + "It is a book that parents may buy for their children, brothers for + their sisters, or husbands for their wives, with the assurance that + the book will not only give pleasure, but convey lessons of love + and charity that can hardly fail to leave durable impressions of + moral and social duty upon the mind and heart of the + reader."--_Evening Mirror._ + + +II. + +WOMAN IN AMERICA; HER WORK AND HER REWARD. + +BY MARIA J. McINTOSH. + +_One Volume, 12mo., paper covers, 50c.; cloth, 75c._ + + "We like this work exceedingly, and our fair countrywomen will + admire it still more than we do. It is written in the true spirit, + and evinces extensive observation of society, a clear insight into + the evils surrounding and pressing down her sex, and a glorious + determination to expose and remove them. Read her work. She will + win a willing way to the heart and home of woman, and her mission + will be found to be one of beneficence and love. Truly, woman has + her work and her reward."--_American Spectator._ + + "We thank Miss McIntosh for her 'Woman in America.' She has written + a clever book, containing much good 'word and truth,' many valuable + thoughts and reflections, which ought to be carefully considered by + every American lady."--_Protestant Churchman._ + + +III. + +CHARMS AND COUNTER-CHARMS. + +BY MARIA J. McINTOSH. + +_One Volume, 12mo., cloth, $1; or in Two Parts, paper, 75c._ + + "This is one of those healthful, _truthful_ works of fiction, which + improve the heart and enlighten the judgment, whilst they furnish + amusement to the passing hour. The style is clear, easy and simple, + and the construction of the story artistic in a high degree. We + commend most cordially the book."--_Tribune._ + + +IV. + +TWO LIVES; OR, TO SEEM AND TO BE. + +BY MARIA J. McINTOSH. + +_One Volume, 12mo., paper covers, 50c.; cloth, 75c._ + + "The previous works of Miss McIntosh, although issued anonymously, + have been popular in the best sense of the word. The simple beauty + of her narratives, combining pure sentiment with high principle, + and noble views of life and its duties, ought to win for them a + hearing at every fireside in our land. We have rarely perused a + tale more interesting and instructive than the one before us, and + we commend it most cordially to the attention of all our + readers."--_Protestant Churchman._ + + +V. + +AUNT KITTY'S TALES. + +BY MARIA J. McINTOSH. + +_A new edition, complete in One Vol., 12mo., cloth, 75c.; paper, 50c._ + + This volume contains the following delightfully interesting + stories: "Blind Alice," "Jessie Graham," "Florence Arnott," "Grace + and Clara," "Ellen Leslie; or, the Reward of Self Control." + + + + +POPULAR BOOKS FOR DOMESTIC READING =PUBLISHED BY D. APPLETON & CO.= + +Most of these volumes may be had in cloth, gilt edges, at 25 cts. per +vol. extra. + + * * * * * + + +=GRACE AGUILAR'S WORKS.= + + 1. HOME SCENES AND HEART STUDIES. 12mo., cloth, 75 cents; paper + cover, 50 cents. + + 2. THE DAYS OF BRUCE. 2 vols. 12mo., cloth, $1.50. + + 3. THE WOMEN OF ISRAEL. 2 vols. 12mo., clo. $1.50, pap. $1. + + 4. THE MOTHER'S RECOMPENSE. 12mo., cloth, 75 cents; paper, 50 + cents. + + 5. THE VALE OF CEDARS; or, the Martyr. 12mo., cloth, 75 cts.; + paper, 50 cts. + + 6. WOMAN'S FRIENDSHIP; a Domestic Story. 12mo., cloth, 75 cts.; + paper, 50 cts. + + +=MRS. ELLIS'S LAST WORK.= + + HEARTS AND HOMES; a Story. Two parts bound in 1 vol. 8vo., cloth, + $1.50; paper, $1. + + +=MISS SEWELL'S WORKS.= + + 1. THE EARL'S DAUGHTER; a Tale. 12mo., cloth, 75 cts., paper, 50 + cts. + + 2. GERTRUDE; a Tale. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth, 75 cts.; paper, 50 cts. + + 3. AMY HERBERT. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth, 75 cts.; paper, 50 cts. + + 4. MARGARET PERCIVAL. 2 vols. 12mo., cloth $1.50; paper, $1. + + 5. LANETON PARSONAGE. 3 vols. 12mo., clo., $2.25; pap., $1.50. + + 6. WALTER LORIMER, with other Tales. Illustrated. 12mo., cloth, 75 + cts.; paper, 50 cts. + + 7. JOURNAL OF A SUMMER TOUR. 12mo., cloth, $1. + + 8. EXPERIENCE OF LIFE. 12mo. (Just ready.) Cloth, 75 cts.; paper, + 50 cts. + + +=MISS McINTOSH'S WORKS.= + + 1. EVENINGS AT DONALDSON MANOR. 12mo., clo., 75 cts. + + 2. TWO LIVES; or, To Seem and To Be: a Tale. 12mo., cloth, 75 + cts.; paper, 50 cts. + + 3. AUNT KITTY'S TALES. 1 vol. 12mo., clo., 75 cts.; pap., 50 cts. + + 4. CHARMS AND COUNTER-CHARMS; a Tale. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth, $1; + paper, 75 cts. + + 5. WOMAN IN AMERICA. 12mo., cloth 62 cts.; paper, 50 cts. + + 6. THE LOFTY AND THE LOWLY. 2 vols. 12mo., cloth. (Just ready.) + + +=JULIA KAVANAGH'S WORKS.= + + 1. DAISY BURNS. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth, or paper. (Just ready.) + + 2. MADELEINE; a Tale. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth, 75 cts.; paper, 50 cts. + + 3. NATHALIE; a Tale. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth, $1; paper, 75 cts. + + 4. WOMEN OF CHRISTIANITY. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth, 75 cts. + + +=WORKS BY A. S. ROE.= + + 1. TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth, 63 cts. + + 2. JAMES MONTJOY. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth, 75 cts.; paper, 62 cts. + + 3. TIME AND TIDE. 1 vol. 12mo., 62 cts.; paper, 38 cts. + + +=LADY FULLERTON.= + + 1. GRANTLEY MANOR; a Tale. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth, 75 cts.; paper, + 50 cts. + + 2. ELLEN MIDDLETON; a Tale. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth, 75 cts.; paper, + 50 cts. + + + + +EVENINGS + +AT + +DONALDSON MANOR; + +OR, + +The Christmas Guest. + + + +BY MARIA J. McINTOSH, + +AUTHOR OF + +"TWO LIVES," "CHARMS AND COUNTER-CHARMS," ETC., ETC. + + + +A NEW REVISED EDITION. + + + "Oh Winter! ruler of the inverted year, + I crown thee king of intimate delights, + Fireside enjoyments, homeborn happiness." + +COWPER. + +NEW-YORK: +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 200 BROADWAY, +AND 16 LITTLE BRITAIN, LONDON. +1853. + + + + +PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. + + +In Miss McIntosh we fondly and proudly greet a transatlantic sister, and +as delightedly introduce her, a "CHRISTMAS GUEST," to our own home +circle. She is worthy of all honor and affection. + +Miss McIntosh's writings are eminently pure in feeling--tender, +graceful, and elegant in manner. Their moral, simply and unstrainedly +developed, is invariably excellent--generously exciting, stimulating, +encouraging all the noblest energies of our nature. To use her own +words, addressed to her friends in America, and with equal propriety may +they be accepted by the rising generation, and by every grade of +society, at every period of life, in her unforgotten fatherland--"From +the examples she will present to them, they may learn that to the brave +and true and faithful heart, 'all things are possible'--that he who +clings to the good and the holy amidst temptation and trial, will find +peace and light within him, though all without be storm and darkness; +and that in a right understanding and unfaltering performance of +duty--not in the pomps and pleasures of a self-indulgent life, lie our +true glory and happiness." + +Not a tale, not a sketch, not an appeal to the heart or to the mind in +any form, does our fair sister commit to paper, that is not pervaded, +though unobtrusively, by a strain of the sweetest, gentlest, most +cheerful and soul-elevating piety; it is hers at once to soothe, to +charm, and to exhilarate. + +Our "CHRISTMAS GUEST" well knows how to furnish forth a feast of +infinite variety. Few, if any, will arise from a perusal of her +delightful "word-painting" of life, incident, adventure, and character, +without being wiser, better, happier; without enjoying a more entire +confidingness in Heaven--in HIM, that _God of love and goodness_, whom +Christians unite to worship. + +LONDON, December 4, 1850. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE +CHAPTER I. +INTRODUCTORY, 9 + +CHAPTER II. +"THE MAIN CHANCE," 17 + +CHAPTER III. +THE CRADLE-SONG; A FREE TRANSLATION FROM KOeRNER, 35 +THE BROTHERS; OR, IN THE FASHION, AND ABOVE THE FASHION, 37 + +CHAPTER IV. +LOSS AND GAIN; OR, HEARTS VERSUS DIAMONDS, 48 + +CHAPTER V. +THE BIRD'S RELEASE. BY MRS. HEMANS, 70 +THE YOUNG MISANTHROPE, 72 + +CHAPTER VI. +LIFE IN AMERICA, 91 + +CHAPTER VII. +SUNDAY, 126 +EVENING HYMN, 128 + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE WOLF CHASE, 133 + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE HISTORY OF AN OLD MAID, 140 + +CHAPTER X. + +THE FAMILY MEETING, 166 + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE DYING HEBREW, 169 +"ONLY A MECHANIC," 172 + +CHAPTER XII. + +LOVE AND PRIDE, 196 + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE TEST OF LOVE. A STORY OF THE LAST WAR, 227 + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE FLOWER ANGELS, 266 + + + + +THE + +CHRISTMAS GUEST; + +OR, + +EVENINGS AT DONALDSON MANOR. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The largest and the most picturesque country-house of all I know in +America, is the mansion house of my friends, the Donaldsons. I would +gladly inform the reader of its locality, but this Colonel Donaldson has +positively prohibited, for a reason too flattering to my self-love to be +resisted. + +"You know, my dear Madam,"--I give his own words, by which I hope the +courteous reader will understand that I am really too modest even to +seem to adopt the flattering sentiment they convey--"You know, my dear +madam, that your description will be read by every body who is any body, +and that through it my simple home will become classic ground. If I +permit you to direct the tourist tribe to it, I shall be pestered out of +my life when summer comes, by travelling artists, would-be poets, and +romantic young ladies." + +I may not therefore, dear reader, tell you whether this pleasant abode +be washed by the waves of the Atlantic or by the turbid current of the +Mississippi; whether it be fanned by the flower-laden zephyrs of the +South, or by the health-inspiring breezes of the North. The exterior +must indeed have been left wholly to your imagination, had I not +fortunately obtained a sketch from a young friend, an _amateur_ artist, +of whom I shall have more to say presently. As I could not in honor +present you with even this poor substitute, as I trust you will consider +it, for my word-painting, without Colonel Donaldson's consent, I have +been compelled, in deference to his wish, to divest the picture of every +thing that would mark the geographical position of the place +represented. The shape of its noble old trees we have been permitted to +retain; but their foliage we have been obliged to render so +indistinctly, that even Linnaeus himself would find it impossible to +decide whether it belonged to the elm of the North when clothed in all +its summer luxuriance, or to the gigantic live-oak of the South. Even of +the house itself we have been permitted to give but a rear view, lest +the more marked features of the landscape in front should hint of its +whereabouts. As to the figures which appear in the foreground of the +picture, they are but figments of my young artist friend's imagination. +One of them you may observe carries under the arm a sheaf of wheat, not +a stalk of which I assure you ever grew on the Donaldson lands. + +Even from this imperfect picture of the exterior, you will perceive that +the house is, as I have said, both large and picturesque. Within, the +rooms go rambling about in such a strange fashion, that an unaccustomed +guest attempting to make his way without a guide to the _chambre de +nuit_ in which he had slept only the night before, would be very apt to +find himself in the condition of a certain bird celebrated in nursery +rhymes as wandering, + + Up stairs and down stairs + And in the ladies' chambers. + +In this house have the Donaldsons lived and died for nearly two hundred +years, and during all that time they have never failed to observe the +Christmas with right genuine, old English hospitality. Then, their sons +and their daughters, their men-servants and their maid-servants, and the +stranger within their gates, felt the genial influence of their +gratitude to Him who added year after year almost unbroken temporal +prosperity to the priceless gift commemorated by that festival. At many +of these _reunions_ it has been my good fortune to be present. Indeed, +though only "AUNT Nancy," by that courtesy which so often accords to the +single sisterhood some endearing title, as a consolation, I presume, for +the more honorable one of MRS. which their good or evil fortune has +denied them, I have been ever received at Donaldson Manor as at my own +familiar home; nor was it matter of surprise to myself or to our mutual +friends, when the Col. and Mrs. Donaldson named their fourth daughter +after me, modifying the old-fashioned Nancy, however, into its more +agreeable synonyme of Annie. + +This daughter has been, of course, my peculiar pet. In truth, however, +she has been scarcely less the peculiar pet of father and mother, +brothers and sisters, friends and neighbors--sweet Annie Donaldson, as +all unite in calling her, and certainly a sweeter, fresher bud of beauty +never opened to the light than my name-child. And yet, reader, it may be +that could I faithfully stamp her portrait on my page, you would exclaim +at my taste, and declare there was no beauty in it. I will even +acknowledge that you may be right, and that there is nothing +artistically beautiful in the dark-gray eyes, the clear and healthy yet +not dazzlingly fair complexion, the straight though glossy dark-brown +hair, and the form, rounded and buoyant, but neither tall enough to be +dignified nor _petite_ enough to be fairy-like. But sure I am that you +could not know the spirit, gentle and playful yet lofty and earnest, +which looks out from her eyes and speaks in her clear, silvery tones and +graceful gestures, without feeling that Annie Donaldson is beautiful. +Nor am I alone in this opinion. My friend Mr. Arlington fully agrees +with me, as you would be convinced if you could see the admiring +expression with which he gazes on her. As this gentleman cannot plead +the Colonel's reason for any reserve respecting his place of residence, +I shall not hesitate to inform the reader that he is a young lawyer of +New-York, who has preserved, amidst much study and some business, the +natural taste necessary to the enjoyment of country scenes and country +sports. During those weeks of summer when New-York is deserted, alike by +the wearied man of business and the _ennuye_ idler, Mr. Arlington, +instead of rushing with the latter to the overcrowded hotels of Saratoga +and Newport, takes his gun and dog, his pencil and sketch-book, and with +an agreeable companion, or, if this may not be, some choice books, as a +resource against a rainy day, he goes to some wild spot--the wilder the +better--where he roves at will from point to point of interest and +beauty, and spends his time in reading, sketching, and--alas, for human +imperfection!--shooting. These vagrant habits first brought him into the +neighborhood of Donaldson Manor, and he had for two successive summers +hunted with the Colonel and sketched with the young ladies, when he was +invited to join their Christmas party in 18--. Here I was introduced to +him, and in a few days we were the best friends in the world. + +Mr. Arlington's sketch-book, of which I have already spoken, served to +elicit one of our points of sympathy. Bound down by the iron chain of +necessity to that point of space occupied by my own land, and that point +of time filled by my own life, yet with a heart longing for acquaintance +with the beautiful distant and the noble past, I have ever loved the +creations of that art which furnished food to these longings; and as my +fortune has denied me the possession of fine _paintings_, I have become +somewhat noted in my own little circle for my collection of fine +_engravings_. Many of these have peculiar charms for me, from their +association, fancied or real, with some place or person that does +interest or has interested me. In the leisure of a solitary life, it has +amused me to append to these engravings a description of the scenes or a +narrative of the incidents which they suggested to my mind, and for +their association with which I particularly valued them. Annie was well +aware of the existence of these descriptions and narratives, and, with a +pretty despotism which she often exercises over those she loves, she +insisted that I should surrender them to her for the gratification of +the assembled party. One condition only was I permitted to make in this +surrender, and this was, that Mr. Arlington should also bring forth his +portfolio for inspection, and should describe the _locale_ of the scene +sketched, or relate the circumstances under which the sketches were +made. A pretty _ruse_ this, my gentle Annie, by which you furnished the +artist with an opportunity to display to others the talents which had +charmed yourself. In accordance with this compact, the drawings, with +their accompanying narratives, were produced, and received with such +approbation, that by the same sweet tyranny which drew them from their +hiding-places, we have been ordered to send this Christmas Guest to bear +the simple stories to other houses, with the hope that they may give +equal pleasure to their inmates. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Merrily blazed the wood fire in the huge old chimney of the large parlor +in which we were accustomed to assemble in the evening, at Donaldson +Manor, and its light was thrown upon faces bright with good-humored +merriment, yet not without some touch of deeper and more earnest +feeling. That party would of itself have made an interesting picture. +There was Col. Donaldson, tall, gaunt, his figure slightly bent, yet +evincing no feebleness, his curling snow-white locks, his broad bold +forehead, and shaggy brows overhanging eyes beaming with kindness. +Beside him sat Mrs. Donaldson, still beautiful in her green old age. Her +face was usually pale, yet her clear complexion, and the bright eyes +that looked out from beneath the rich Valenciennes border of her cap, +redeemed it from the appearance of ill health. Her form, stately yet +inclining to _embonpoint_, was shown to advantage by the soft folds of +the rich and glossy satin dress which ordinarily, at mid-day, took the +place in summer of her cambric morning-dress, and in winter of her +cashmere _robe de chambre_. Mrs. Donaldson has a piece of fancy netting +which she reserves for her evening work, because, she says, it does not +make much demand upon her eyes. This the mischievous and privileged +Annie calls "Penelope's Web," declaring, that whatever is done on it in +the evening is undone the next morning. Around the table, on which the +brightest lights were placed for the convenience of those who would +read or sew, clustered the two married daughters of the house--who +always return to their "_home_," as they still continue to call +Donaldson Manor, for the Christmas holidays--Annie, Mr. Arlington, and +myself. Miss Donaldson, the eldest daughter of my worthy friends, is the +housekeeper of the family, and usually sits quietly beside her mother, +somewhat fatigued probably by the active employments of her day. The two +sons of Col. Donaldson, the elder of whom is only twenty-three, his +sons-in-law, and his grandson, Robert Dudley, a fine lad of twelve, give +animation to the scene by moving hither and thither, now joining our +group at the table, now discussing in a corner the amusements of +to-morrow, and now entertaining us with a graphic account of to-day's +adventures, of the sleighs upset, or the skating-matches won. + +Such was the party assembled little more than a week before Christmas +the last year, when Annie called upon Mr. Arlington and myself to redeem +the pledges we had given, and surrender our portfolios to her. Some +slight contention arose between us on the question who should first +contribute to the entertainment of the company; Mr. Arlington exclaiming +"_Place aux Dames_," and I contending that there was great want of +chivalry in thus putting a woman into the front of the battle. This +little dispute was terminated by the proposal that Annie having been +blindfolded to secure impartial justice, the two portfolios should be +placed on the table, and she should choose, not only from which of them +our entertainment should be drawn, but the very subject that should +furnish it. Mr. Arlington vehemently applauded this proposal, and then +urged that he must himself tie the handkerchief, as no one else, he +feared, would make it an effectual blind. Annie submitted to his demand, +though she professed to feel great indignation at his implied doubt of +her honesty. No one else, we believe, would have taken so much time for +the disposal of this screen, or been so careful in the arrangement of +the bands of hair over which, or through which, the handkerchief was +passed; and the touch of no other hand, perhaps, would have called up so +bright a color to the cheeks, and even to the brow, of our sweet Annie. +When permitted to exercise her office, Annie, to my great pleasure, +without an instant's hesitation, while a mischievous little smile played +at the corners of her mouth, placed her hand on Mr. Arlington's +portfolio, and drew from it a paper, which, on being exhibited, was +found to contain the pencilled outline of many heads grouped together in +various positions, some being apparently elevated considerably above the +others. + +"Ah, Miss Annie!" exclaimed Mr. Arlington, with considerable +satisfaction apparent in his voice and manner, "you must try again, and +I think I must trouble you, ladies, for another handkerchief. This seems +to me to have been scarcely thick enough." + +"I appeal to the company," cried Annie, "whether this is in accordance +with Mr. Arlington's engagement. Was he not to accept any thing I should +draw from his portfolio as the foundation of his sketch?" + +"Ay, ay," was responded from every part of the room. + +"But pray, my good friends," persisted Mr. Arlington, "observe the +impossibility of compliance with your demand. How can I possibly hope to +entertain you by any thing based upon that memento of an idle hour in +court, which I should long ago have destroyed, had I not fancied that I +could detect in those sketchy outlines--those mere profiles--very +accurate likenesses of the heads for which they were taken?" + +"Those heads look as though they might have histories attached to them," +said Annie, as she bent to examine them more narrowly. + +"Histories indeed they have," said Mr. Arlington. + +"Give them to us," suggested Col. Donaldson. + +"You have them already. These are all men whose histories are as well +known to the public as to their own families. There is the elder K----, +at once so simple in heart and so acute in mind. Cannot you read both in +his face? There is his son; and there is D. B. O----, and O. H----, and +G----, and J----. What can I tell you of any of them that you do not +know already?" + +"Who are these?" asked Annie, pointing to two heads, placed somewhat +aloof from the rest, and near each other. "That older face is so +benevolent in its expression, and the younger has so noble a +physiognomy, and looks with such reverence on his companion, that I am +persuaded they have a history beyond that which belongs to the world. Is +it not so?" + +"It is. Those are Mr. Cavendish and Herbert Latimer. They have a +history, and I will give it you if you desire it, though, thus +impromptu, I must do it very imperfectly I fear." + +"No apologies," said Col. Donaldson. "Begin, and do your best; no one +can do more." + +"Than _my_ best," said Mr. Arlington, with a smile, "thank you. My +narrative will have at least one recommendation--truth--as I have +received its incidents from Latimer himself." + +Without further preliminary, Mr. Arlington commenced the relation of the +following circumstances, which he has since written out, by Annie's +request, at somewhat greater length for insertion here, giving it the +title of + + +THE MAIN CHANCE. + +Herbert Latimer was only twenty when, having passed the usual +examination, he was admitted, by a special act of the legislative +assembly of his native State, to practise at the bar. Young as he was, +he had already experienced some of the severest vicissitudes of life. +His father had been a bold, and for many years a successful merchant, +and the young Herbert, his only child, had been born and nurtured in the +lap of wealth and luxury. He was only sixteen--a boy--but a boy full of +the noble aspirations and lofty hopes that make manhood honorable, when +his father died. Mr. Latimer's last illness had been probably rendered +fatal by the intense anxiety of mind he endured while awaiting +intelligence of the result of a mercantile operation, on which, contrary +to the cautious habits of his earlier years, he had risked well nigh all +he possessed. He did not live to learn that it had completely failed, +and that his wife and child were left with what would have seemed to him +the merest pittance for their support. + +The character and talents of young Latimer were well known to his +father's friends, and more than one among them offered him a clerkship +on what could not but be considered as very advantageous terms. To these +offers Herbert listened with painful indecision. For himself, he would +have suffered cheerfully any privation, rather than relinquish the +career which his inclinations had prompted, and with which were +connected all his glowing visions of the future--but his mother--had he +a right to refuse what would enable her to preserve all her accustomed +elegances and indulgences? + +"You must be aware, Master Latimer," said he who had made him the most +liberal offers, and who saw him hesitating on their acceptance, "you +must be aware that only my friendship for your father could induce me to +offer such terms to so young a man, howsoever capable. Three hundred +dollars this year, five hundred the next, if you give satisfaction in +the performance of your duties, a thousand dollars after that till you +are of age, and then a share in the business equal to one-fourth of its +profits--these are terms, sir, which I would offer to no one else. Your +father was a friend to me, sir, and I would be a friend to his son." + +"I feel your kindness and liberality, sir." + +"And yet you hesitate?" + +"Will you permit me, sir, to ask till to-morrow for consideration? I +must consult my mother." + +"That is right, young man; that is right. She knows something of life, +and will, I doubt not, advise you to close with so unexceptionable an +offer." + +"Whatever she may advise, sir, be assured I will do." + +"I have no doubt then, sir, that I shall see you to-morrow prepared to +take your place in my store. Good morning." + +Assuming as cheerful an air as he could, Herbert went from this +interview to his mother's sitting room. Mrs. Latimer raised her eyes to +his as he entered, and reading with a mother's quick perception the +disturbance of his mind, she asked him in a tone of alarm, "What is the +matter, Herbert?" + +"Only a very pleasant matter, mother," said Herbert, with forced +cheerfulness, which he endeavored to preserve while relating the offer +just received. + +"And would you relinquish the study of the law, Herbert?" inquired Mrs. +Latimer. + +"Not if I could help it, mother; but you know Mr. Woodleigh told you +that five hundred dollars a year was the utmost that he could hope to +save for you. If I study law, it must be several years before I can add +any thing to this sum--I may even be compelled----" The features of +Herbert worked, tears rushed to his eyes, and he turned away, unable to +speak the thought that distressed him. + +"You speak of what can be saved for _me_, Herbert--of what _you_ may be +compelled to do. Do you suppose that we can have separate interests in +this question?--are not your hopes my hopes--will not your success, your +triumph, be mine too? The only consideration for us, it seems to me, is +whether the profession you have chosen and the prospects open to you in +it, are worth some present sacrifice." + +"They are worth every sacrifice on my part--but you, mother----" + +"Have no separate interest from my child--I have shared all your hopes, +all your aspirations, Herbert, and it would cost me less to live on +bread and water, to dress coarsely, and lodge hardly for the next five +years, than to yield my anticipations of your future success." + +Others had felt _for_ Herbert, and had offered to aid him, and he had +turned from them with a deeper sense of his need and diminished +confidence in his own powers--his mother felt _with_ him, and he was +cheered and strengthened. The offers of the friendly merchant were +gratefully declined. By the sale of her jewels, Mrs. Latimer obtained +the sum necessary to meet the expenses incident to her son's first +entrance on his professional studies. She then appropriated three +hundred dollars of their little income to his support in the city, and +withdrew herself to the country, where, she said, the remaining two +hundred would supply all her wants. When Herbert would have remonstrated +against these arrangements, she reminded him that they were intended to +accomplish her own wishes no less than his. He ceased to remonstrate, +but he did what was better--he acted--and the very first year, by +self-denying economy and industry, he was enabled to return to her fifty +dollars of the amount she had allotted to him. The second year he did +better, and the third year Mrs. Latimer was able to return to the city +and board at the same house with her son. It was only by the joy she +expressed at their re-union that Herbert learned how painful the +separation had been to her. She would not waste his strength and her own +in vain lamentation over a necessary evil. Four years sufficed to +prepare Herbert Latimer for his profession, and through the influence of +some of his mother's early friends, exerted at her earnest request, the +legislative act which permitted his entrance on its duties, was passed. +The knowledge of his circumstances had excited a warm interest for him +in many minds, and they who heard his name for the first time, when he +stood before them for examination, could not but feel prepossessed in +favor of the youth, on whose bold brow deep and lofty thoughts had left +their impress, and in whose grave, earnest eyes the spirit seer might +have read the history of a life of endurance and silent struggle. All +were interested in him--all evinced that interest by gentle courtesy of +manner--and almost all seemed desirous to make his examination as light +as possible--all save one--one usually as remarkable for his indulgence +to young aspirants, as for the legal acumen and extensive knowledge, +which had won for him a large share of the profits and honors of his +profession. His associates now wondered to find him so rigidly exact in +his trial of young Latimer's acquirements. + +"You were very severe on our young tyro to-day," said a brother lawyer, +and one on whom early associations and similarity of pursuits, rather +than of tastes, had conferred the privileges of a friend on Mr. +Cavendish, as they walked together from the court-house. + +"I saw that he did not need indulgence, and I gave him an opportunity of +proving to others that he did not--but I had another and more selfish +reason for my rigid test of his powers." + +Mr. Cavendish spoke smilingly, and his friend was emboldened to +ask--"And pray what selfish motive could you have for it!" + +"I wished to see whether he would suit me as a partner." + +"A partner!" + +"Yes--when a man has lived for half a century, he begins to think that +he may possibly grow old some day, and I would provide myself with a +young partner, who may take the laboring oar in my business when age +compels me to lay it aside." + +"All that may do very well--I have some thought of doing the same +myself; but I shall look out for a young man who is well connected. +Connections do a great deal for us, you know, and we must always have an +eye to the main chance." + +"I agree with you, but we should probably differ about what constitutes +the main chance." + +"There surely can be no difference about that; it means with every one +the one thing needful." + +"And what is, in your opinion, the one thing needful?" + +"Why this, to be sure," and Mr. Duffield drew his purse from his pocket, +and shook it playfully. + +"A somewhat different use of the term from that which the Bible makes," +said Mr. Cavendish. + +"Oh! let the Bible alone, and let me hear what you think of it." + +"Pardon me, I cannot let the Bible alone if I tell you my own opinions, +for from the Bible I learned them." + +"It seems a strange book, I must say, to consult for a law of +partnerships." + +"Had you a better acquaintance with it, Duffield, you would learn that +its principles apply to all the relations of life. The difference +between us is, that when you estimate man's chief object, or as you call +it, his 'main chance,' you take only the present into view, you leave +out of sight altogether the interminable future, with its higher hopes +and deeper interests, and relations of immeasurably greater importance." + +"I find it enough for one poor brain to calculate for the present." + +"A great deal too much you will find it, if you leave out of your sum +so important an item as the relations of that present to the future. +Depend on it, Duffield, that he makes the most for this life, as well as +for the next, of his time, his talents, and his wealth, who uses them as +God's steward, for the happiness of his fellow-creatures, as well as for +his own." + +"And so, for the happiness of your fellow-creatures, you are going to +give away half of the best practice in the State?" + +"I am going to do no such thing. In the first place, I did not tell you +that I was going to offer young Latimer an equal division of the profits +of my practice; and for what I may offer him I have already taken care +to ascertain that he can return a full equivalent. His talents need only +a vantage-ground on which to act, and I rejoice to be able to give him +that which my own early experience taught me to value." + +"Well--we shall see ten years hence how your rule and mine work. I think +I shall offer a partnership to young Conway--he is already rising in his +profession, and is connected with some of our wealthiest families." + +"Very well--we shall see." + +Herbert Latimer had nerved himself to endure five, or it might be ten +more years of profitless toil, ere he should gain a position which would +make his talents available for more than the mere essentials of +existence. Let those who have looked on so dreary a prospect--who have +buckled on their armor for such a combat--judge of the grateful emotion +with which he received the generous proposal of Mr. Cavendish. This +proposal, while it gave him at once an opportunity for the exercise of +his powers, secured to him for the first year one-fifth, for the two +following years one-fourth, and after that, if neither partner chose to +withdraw from the connection, one-half of the profits of a business, the +receipts of which had for several years averaged over ten thousand +dollars. Mr. Cavendish soon found that he had done well to trust to the +gratitude of his young partner for inducing the most active exercise of +his powers. Stimulated by the desire to prove himself not unworthy of +such kindness, and to secure his generous friend from any loss, Herbert +never overlooked aught that could advance the interests, nor grew weary +of any task that could lighten the toil of Mr. Cavendish. + +"Herbert, you really make me ashamed of myself, you are so constantly +busy that I seem idle in comparison," said Mr. Cavendish, as he prepared +one day to lay by his papers and leave the office at three o'clock. +"Pray put away those musty books, and bring Mrs. Latimer to dine with +us--this is a fete day with us. My daughter, who has been for two months +with her uncle and aunt in Washington, has returned, and I want to +introduce her to Mrs. Latimer." + +"My mother will come to you with pleasure, I am sure." + +"And you?" + +"Will come too, if I possibly can. You dine at five?" + +"Yes--and remember punctuality is the soul of dinner as well as of +business. So do not let the charms of Coke upon Lyttleton make you +forget that fair ladies and hungry gentlemen are expecting you." Mr. +Cavendish closed the door with a smiling face, and Herbert Latimer +turned for another hour to his books and papers. At a quarter before +five he stood with his mother in the drawing-room of Mr. Cavendish, and +received his first introduction to one who soon became the star of his +life. + +Mary Cavendish was not beautiful--far less could the word pretty have +been applied to her--but she was lovely. All that we most love in woman, +all pure and peaceful thoughts, all sweet and gentle affections, seemed +to beam from her eyes, or to sit throned upon her fair and open brow. +She had enjoyed all the advantages, as it is termed, of a fashionable +education, but the influences of her home had been more powerful than +those of her school, and she remained what nature had made her--a +warm-hearted, truthful, generous, and gentle girl--too ingenuous for the +pretty affectations, too generous for the heartless coquetries which too +often teach us that the _accomplished_ young lady has sacrificed, for +her external refinement, qualities of a nobler stamp and more delicate +beauty. The only daughter among several children, she was an idol in her +home, and every movement of her life seemed impelled by the desire to +repay the wealth of affection that was lavished upon her. It was +impossible to see such a being daily in the intimacy of her home +associations--the sphere in which her gentle spirit shone most +brightly--without loving her; and Herbert soon felt that he loved her, +yet he added in his thoughts "in all honor," and to him it would have +seemed little honorable to attempt to win this priceless treasure from +him to whose generosity he had owed his place in her circle. Mrs. +Latimer, though she did not fear for her son's honor, trembled for his +future peace as she marked the sadness which often stole over him, after +spending an hour in the society of this lovely girl; but Mrs. Latimer +was a wise woman--she knew that speech is to such emotions often as the +lighted match to a magazine, and she kept silence. + +For almost a year after his introduction, Herbert continued in daily +intercourse with Mary Cavendish to drink fresh draughts of love, yet so +carefully did he guard his manner, that no suspicion of his warmer +emotions threw a shadow over her friendship, or checked the frankness +with which she unveiled to him the rich treasures of her mind and heart. +It was in the autumn succeeding their first acquaintance that Mr. and +Mrs. Cavendish issued cards for a large party at their house. It would +be too gay a scene for the quiet taste of Mrs. Latimer, but Herbert +would be there, and at the request of Mrs. Cavendish he promised to come +early. The promise was kept. He arrived half an hour at least before +any other guest, bringing with him a bouquet of rare and beautiful +flowers for Mary. As he entered the hall he heard a slight scream from +the parlor beside whose open door he stood. The scream was in a voice to +whose lightest tone his heart responded, and in an instant, he was +beside Mary Cavendish, had clasped her in his arms, and pressing her +closely to his person, was endeavoring to extinguish with his hands the +flames that enveloped her. The evening was cold: there was a fire in the +stove, before which Mary stood arranging some flowers on the +mantel-piece, when the door was opened for him. The sudden rush of air +had wafted her light, floating drapery of gauze and lace into the fire, +and in a moment all was in a blaze. Fortunate was it for her, that under +this light, flimsy drapery, was worn a dress of stouter texture and less +combustible material--a rich satin. After the slight scream which had +brought him to her side, Mary uttered no sound, and with his whole soul +concentrated on action, he had been equally silent till the last spark +was smothered. Then gazing wildly in her pallid face he exclaimed, "In +mercy speak to me! Did I come too late? Are you burned?" + +"I scarcely know--I think not," she faltered out. Then, as she made an +effort to withdraw from his arms, added quickly--"no--not at all." + +Completely overpowered by the revulsion of feeling which those words +occasioned, Herbert clasped her again in his arms, and fervently +ejaculating, "Thank God!" pressed his lips to her cheek. At that moment, +the voice of Mr. Cavendish was heard in the next room, and breaking from +him, Mary rushed to her astonished father, and burying her face in his +bosom, burst into tears. Aroused to full consciousness by the presence +of another, Herbert stood trembling and dismayed at the remembrance of +his own rashness. Agitated as she was, Mary was compelled to answer her +father's questions, for he seemed wholly unable to speak. + +"Latimer, I owe my child's life probably to you. How shall I repay the +debt?" cried Mr. Cavendish, attempting, as he spoke, to clasp Herbert's +hand. He winced at the touch, and a sudden contraction passed over his +face. + +"You are burned," said Mr. Cavendish, and would have examined his hand, +but throwing his handkerchief over it, Herbert declared it was not worth +mentioning, though at the same time he confessed that the pain was +sufficient to make him desirous to return home, and have some soothing +application made to it. Mr. Cavendish parted from him with regret, with +earnest charges that he should take care of himself, and equally earnest +hopes that he might be sufficiently relieved to return to them before +the evening was passed; but Mary still lay in her father's arms, with +her face hidden, and noticed Herbert's departure neither by word nor +look. + +"I have outraged her delicacy, and she cannot bear even to see me," he +said to himself. + +In passing out he accidentally trod on the flowers which he had selected +with such care--"Crushed like my own heart!" he ejaculated mentally. + +A fortnight passed before Herbert Latimer could take his accustomed +place in the office of Mr. Cavendish. His hand had been deeply +burned--so deeply that the pain had produced fever. During this period +of suffering, Mr. Cavendish had often visited him, and Mrs. Cavendish +had more than once taken his mother's place at his bedside; but Herbert +found little pleasure in their attentions, for he said to himself, "If +they knew all my presumption, they would be less kind." + +His illness passed away, his hand healed, and he resumed his accustomed +avocations; but no invitation, however urgent, could win him again to +the house of Mr. Cavendish. "I have proved my own weakness--I will not +place myself again in the way of temptation," was the language of his +heart. Apologies became awkward. He felt that he must seem to his friend +ungracious if not ungrateful; and one day observing unusual seriousness +in the countenance of Mr. Cavendish on his declining an invitation to +dine with him, he exclaimed, "You look displeased, and I can hardly +wonder at it; but could you know my reason for denying myself the +pleasure of visiting you, I am sure you would think me right." + +"Perhaps so; but as I do not know it, you cannot be surprised that your +determined withdrawal from our circle should wound both my feelings and +those of my family." + +Herbert covered his eyes with his hand for a moment, and then turning +them with a grave and even sad expression on Mr. Cavendish, said, "I +have declined your invitations only because I could not accept them with +honor: I love your daughter--I have loved her almost from the first hour +of my acquaintance with her." + +"And why have you not told me so before, Herbert?" asked Mr. Cavendish, +with no anger in his tones. + +"Because I believed myself capable of loving in silence, and while I +wronged no one, I was willing to indulge in the sweet poison of her +society; but a moment of danger to her destroyed my self-control. What +has been may be again--I have learned to distrust myself--I cannot +tamper with temptation, lest I should one day use the position in which +you have placed me, and the advantages which you have bestowed on me, in +endeavoring to win from you a treasure which you may well be reluctant +to yield to me." + +"Herbert, I only blame you for not having spoken to me sooner of this." + +"I feel now that I should have done so--it was a want of +self-knowledge, the rash confidence of one untried which kept me +silent." + +"No, Herbert--it was a want of knowledge of me--of confidence in my +justice--I will not say my kindness. What higher views do you suppose I +can entertain for my daughter, than to make her the wife of one who has +a prospect of obtaining the most distinguished eminence in my own +profession." + +"If that prospect be mine, to you I owe it--could I make it a plea for +asking more?" + +"You owe what I did for you to the interest and esteem excited by your +own qualities, and all I did has only given you a place for the exercise +of those qualities--I do not know how you will win Mary's forgiveness +for refraining from her society on such slight grounds." + +"Dare I hope for your permission to seek that forgiveness?" + +"Dare I hope for your company to dinner to-day?" + +"Now that you know all, nothing could give so much pleasure--though I +fear----" + +"What, fearing again!" + +"I fear that Miss Cavendish is very much displeased with me." + +"For saving her life?" + +"No--not exactly that." + +Herbert Latimer did not confide the cause of his fear to Mr. Cavendish, +neither did he suffer it to interfere with his visit on that day. He +went to dinner, but stayed to tea, and long after, and as Mary was his +companion for much, if not all of this time, we presume that her +displeasure could not have been manifested in any very serious manner. + +It was about six weeks after this renewal of his visits that Mr. +Duffield meeting his friend Mr. Cavendish one morning, accosted him +with, "I hear that your daughter is going to be married to young +Latimer--is it true?" + +"Yes, and I heartily wish the affair were over, for I hope Herbert will +recover his senses when he is actually married, as now I am obliged to +attend to his business and my own too." + +"Not much profit in that, I should think--I manage somewhat +differently." + +"Did you not tell me that you intended forming a partnership with young +Conway?" + +"Yes--but before I had done so, I heard that Sprague, who is as well +connected as Conway, and a great deal more industrious, would go into +business with me on less exacting terms. He has been associated with me +for some time. He does all the drudgery of the business, and is content +with one-eighth of the profits for five years." + +"Those are low terms--with talent and connection too, I should think he +could have done better." + +"Why, you see his connections were of little use to him while he was +alone, for he was so desperately poor that they did not like to +acknowledge him, but I knew as soon as he began to rise they would all +notice him, and so it has proved. I have no doubt I shall gain through +them more than the thousand dollars a-year which Sprague will draw, +while I shall be saved every thing that is really disagreeable or +laborious in my practice; and you give two thousand dollars a-year, and +are to have your daughter married to a gentleman who leaves all the +business on your hands--which of us, do you think, has attended most +successfully to the main chance?" + +"According to my views of the main chance, it is not to be determined by +such data--but even in your own view we may have a very different +account to render nine years hence?" + +"Ah, well! Ten years from the day that Latimer passed we will compare +notes." + +Ten years are long in prospective, but it seemed to both parties only a +short time when the appointed anniversary came. On that day Mr. +Cavendish invited several of his brother lawyers, and amongst them Mr. +Duffield, to dinner. Herbert Latimer, his wife and mother, his two noble +boys, and though last, not least in importance, if in size, his little +girl, her grandfather's especial pet, were of the party. It was a well +assorted party. The guests found good cheer and social converse--the +cherished friends of the house, food for deeper and higher enjoyment +When the ladies had withdrawn, calling Herbert Latimer to the head of +the table, Mr. Cavendish seated himself beside Mr. Duffield. + +"Well, Duffield!" he exclaimed, "do you know that it is ten years to-day +since Herbert Latimer stood before us for examination?" + +"Ah!" ejaculated Mr. Duffield, in the tone of one who did not care to +pursue the subject further. + +"You remember our agreement--are you still willing to make our success +in that time a test of the truth of our respective principles?" + +"It may afford a more conclusive proof of your better judgment in the +selection of an associate." + +"Sprague stands very high in his profession." + +"Yes--I knew he would, for he has talent and connection--therefore I +chose him; but he left me just at the time these were beginning to be +available, as soon as the five years for which our agreement was made, +had expired." + +"What occasioned his leaving you?" + +"Why, Duval offered him better terms than I had done--I should not have +cared so much for his going, but he carried off many of my clients, with +whom he had ingratiated himself during his connection with me. My +practice has scarcely recovered yet from the injury which he did it." + + +"He seems to have acted on your own principle, and to have considered +the main chance to mean the most money." + +"And do you suppose Latimer would have remained with you if he could +have made better terms for himself?" + +"I know that during my long illness he was offered double what he was +receiving, or could then hope ever to receive from my practice, and his +reply to the offer was that the bonds forged by gratitude and affection, +no interest could break. He has now built up the business again to far +more than it was when he joined me--I know that I owe most of it to him, +yet he will not listen to any advice to dissolve our partnership. +Gentlemen," he said, "I have a sentiment to propose to you, which you +may drink in wine or water as you like best. 'THE MAIN CHANCE--always +best secured by obedience to the golden rule--as ye would that others +should do unto you, do ye even so to them.'" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +The morning after Mr. Arlington had commenced our Christmas +entertainments with the sketch of his friend Herbert Latimer's life, was +dark and gloomy. At least, such was its aspect abroad, where leaden +clouds covered the sky, and a cold, sleety rain fell fast; but within, +all was bright, and warm, and cheerful. Immediately after breakfast we +separated, each in search of amusement suited to his or her own tastes: +some to the music room, some to the library, and Robert Dudley and Annie +Donaldson to a game of battledore and shuttlecock in the wide hall, with +Mr. Arlington for a spectator. As the storm increased, however, all +seemed to feel the want of companionship, and without any preconcerted +plan, we found ourselves, about two hours after breakfast, again +assembled in the room in which quiet, patient Mrs. Donaldson sat, +ravelling the netting of the last evening. + +"Now for Aunt Nancy's portfolio," cried Annie, as soon as conversation +began to flag. + +The proposal was seconded so warmly that, as I could urge nothing +against it, the portfolio was immediately produced, and Annie, taking +possession of it, commissioned Robert Dudley to draw forth an +engraving:--"Scene, a chamber by night, a sleeping baby and a sleepy +mother, a basket of needle-work--I am sure it is needle-work--on the +floor, and a cross suspended from the wall," said Annie, describing the +engraving which she had taken from Robert. + +"That cross looks promising," said Colonel Donaldson, who likes a little +romance as well as any of his daughters. "Let us have the fair lady's +history, Aunt Nancy." + +"I know nothing about her," said I, with a smile at his eagerness. + +"Then why, dear Aunt Nancy, did you keep the engraving?" asked Annie. + +"I might answer, because of my interest in the scene it depicts--a scene +in which religion seems to shed its sanctifying influence over the +tenderest affection and the homeliest duties of our common life; but I +had another reason." + +"Ah! I knew it," exclaimed Annie. + +"I first saw this print in company with a very cultivated and +interesting German lady, to whose memory the sleeping baby recalled a +cradle song written by her countryman, the brave Koerner. She sang it for +me, and as the German is, I am grieved to say, a sealed book to me, she +gave me a literal translation of the words, which--" + +"Which you have put into English verse, and written here at the back of +the engraving in the finest of all fine writing, and which papa will put +on his spectacles and read for us." + +"No; I commission Mr. Arlington to do that," said the Colonel, "without +his spectacles." + +"First," said I, "let me assure you that the original is full of a +simple, natural tenderness, which I fear, in the double process of +translating and versifying, has entirely escaped." + +Mr. Arlington, taking the paper from Annie, now read,-- + + +THE CRADLE SONG; + +A FREE TRANSLATION FROM KOeRNER. + + I. + + Slumberer! to thy mother's breast, + So fondly folded, sweetly rest! + Within that fair and quiet world, + With downy pinions scarce unfurl'd, + Life gently passes, nor doth bring + One dream of sorrow on its wing. + + + II. + + Pleasant our dreams in early hours, + When Mother-love our life embowers;-- + Ah! Mother-love! thy tender light + Hath vanished from my sky of night, + Scarce leaving there one fading ray + To thrill me with, remember'd day. + + + III. + + Thrice, by the smiles of fav'ring Heaven, + To man this holiest joy is given; + Thrice, circled by the arms of love, + With glowing spirit he may prove + The highest rapture heart can feel, + The noblest hopes our lives reveal. + + + IV. + + The earliest blessings that enwreathed + His infant days, 'twas Love that breathed. + In Love's warm smile the nursling blooms, + Nor fears one shade that o'er him glooms, + While flowers unfold and waters dance + In joy, beneath his first, fresh glance. + + + V. + + And when around the youth's bold course + Clouds gather--tempests spend their force-- + When his soul darkens with his sky, + Again the Love-God hovers nigh; + And on some gentle maiden's breast + Lulls him, once more, to blissful rest. + + + VI. + + But when his heart bends to the power + Of storm, as bends the summer flower, + 'Tis Love that, as the Angel-Death + Wooes from his lips the ling'ring breath, + And gently bears his soul above, + To the bright skies--the home of Love. + +"Poor Koerner!" said Mr. Arlington, as he concluded reading this song--if +indeed it may claim that name in its English dress--"I can sympathize, +as few can do, with his mournful memory of mother-love." + +This was said in a tone of such genuine emotion, that I looked at him +with even more pleasure than I had hitherto done. + +"Such tenderness touches us particularly when found, as in Koerner, in +union with manly and vigorous qualities--perhaps, because it is a rare +combination," said Mrs. Dudley. + +"Is it rare?" I asked doubtfully. "The results of my own observation +have led me to believe that it is precisely in manly, vigorous, +independent minds that we see the fullest development of our simple, +natural, home-affections." + +"You are right, Aunt Nancy," said Col. Donaldson; "it is only boys +striving to seem manly and men of boyish minds, who fail to acknowledge +with reverence and tenderness the value of a mother's love." + +"So convinced am I of this," I replied, "that I would ask for no more +certain indication of a man's nobility of nature, than his manner to his +mother. I remember a striking illustration of the fidelity of such an +indication in two brothers of the name of Manning, with whom I was once +acquainted. The one was quite a _petit-maitre_--a dandy; the other, a +fine creature--large-minded and large-hearted. The first betrayed in +every look and movement, that he considered himself greatly his +mother's superior, and feared every moment that she should detract from +his dignity by some sin against the dicta of fashion; the other did +honor at once to her and to himself, by his reverent devotion to her. +They were a contrast, and a contrast which circumstances brought out +most strikingly. Ah, Mr. Arlington! I wish you could have seen them--a +sketch of them from your pencil would have been a picture indeed." + +"We will take your word-painting instead," said Mr. Arlington. + +"A mere description in words could not present them to you in all their +strongly marked diversity of character. To do this, I must give you a +history of their lives." + +"And why not?"--and--"Oh, yes, Aunt Nancy, that is just what we want," +was echoed from one to another. They consented to delay their +gratification till the evening, that I might have a little time to +arrange my reminiscences; and when "the hours of long uninterrupted +evening" came, and we had + + "----stirr'd the fire and closed the shutters fast, + Let fall the curtains, wheeled the sofa round," + +and disposed ourselves in comfort for talking and for listening, I gave +them the relation which you will find below under the title of + + +THE BROTHERS; + +OR, IN THE FASHION AND ABOVE THE FASHION. + +"Some men are born to greatness--some achieve greatness--and some have +greatness thrust upon them." Henry Manning belonged to the second of +these three great classes. The son of a mercantile adventurer, who won +and lost a fortune by speculation, he found himself at sixteen years of +age called on to choose between the life of a Western farmer, with its +vigorous action, stirring incident and rough usage--and the life of a +clerk in one of the most noted establishments in Broadway, the great +source and centre of fashion in New-York. Mr. Morgan, the brother of +Mrs. Manning, who had been recalled from the distant West by the death +of her husband, and the embarrassments into which that event had plunged +her, had obtained the offer of the latter situation for one of his two +nephews, and would take the other with him to his prairie-home. + +"I do not ask you to go with me, Matilda," he said to his sister, +"because our life is yet too wild and rough to suit a delicate woman, +reared, as you have been, in the midst of luxurious refinements. The +difficulties and privations of life in the West fall most heavily upon +woman, while she has little of that sustaining power which man's more +adventurous spirit finds in overcoming difficulty and coping with +danger. But let me have one of your boys; and by the time he has arrived +at manhood, he will be able, I doubt not, to offer you in his home all +the comforts, if not all the elegances of your present abode." + +Mrs. Manning consented; and now the question was, which of her sons +should remain with her, and which should accompany Mr. Morgan. To Henry +Manning, older by two years than his brother George, the choice of +situations was submitted. He went with his uncle to the Broadway +establishment, heard the duties which would be demanded from him, the +salary which would be given, saw the grace with which the _elegants_ +behind the counter displayed their silks, and satins, and velvets, to +the _elegantes_ before the counter, and the decision with which they +promulgated the decrees of fashion; and with that just sense of his own +powers, which is the accompaniment of true genius, he decided at once +that there lay his vocation. George, who had not been without difficulty +kept quiet, while his brother was forming his decision, as soon as it +was announced, sprang forward with a whoop that would have suited a +Western forest better than a New-York drawing-room, threw the Horace he +was reading across the table, clasped first his mother and then his +uncle in his arms, and exclaimed, "I am the boy for the West. I will +help you fell forests and build cities there, uncle. Why should not we +build cities as well as Romulus and Remus?" + +"I will supply your cities with all their silks, and satins, and +velvets, and laces, and charge them nothing, George," said Henry +Manning, with that air of superiority with which the worldly-wise often +look on the sallies of the enthusiast. + +"You make my head ache, my son," complained Mrs. Manning, shrinking from +his boisterous gratulation;--but Mr. Morgan returned his hearty embrace, +and as he gazed into his bold, bright face, with an eye as bright as his +own, replied to his burst of enthusiasm, "You _are_ the very boy for the +West, George. It is out of such brave stuff that pioneers and +city-builders are always made." + +Henry Manning soon bowed himself into the favor of the ladies who formed +the principal customers of his employer. By his careful and really +correct habits, and his elegant taste in the selection and arrangement +of goods, he became also a favorite with his employers themselves. They +needed an agent for the selection of goods abroad, and they sent him. He +purchased cloths for them in England, and silks in France, and came home +with the reputation of a travelled man. Having persuaded his mother to +advance a capital for him by selling out the bank stock in which Mr. +Morgan had founded her little fortune, at twenty-four years of age he +commenced business for himself as a French importer. Leaving a partner +to attend to the sales at home, he went abroad for the selection of +goods, and the further enhancement of his social reputation. He returned +in two years with a fashionable figure, a most _recherche_ style of +dress, moustachios of the most approved cut, and whiskers of faultless +curl--a finished gentleman in his own conceit. With such attractions, +the _prestige_ which he derived from his reported travels and long +residence abroad, and the _savoir faire_ of one who had made the +conventional arrangements of society his study, he quickly arose to the +summit of his wishes, to the point which it had been his life's ambition +to attain. He became the umpire of taste, and his word was received as +the fiat of fashion. He continued to reside with his mother, and paid +great attention to her style of dress, and the arrangements of her +house, for it was important that his mother should appear properly. Poor +Mrs. Manning! she sometimes thought that proud title dearly purchased by +listening to his daily criticisms on appearance, language, manners, +which had been esteemed stylish enough in their day. + +George Manning had visited his mother only once since he left her with +all the bright imaginings and boundless confidence of fourteen, and then +Henry was in Europe. It was during the first winter after his return, +and when the brothers had been separated for nearly twelve years, that +Mrs. Manning informed him she had received a letter from George, +announcing his intention to be in New-York in December, and to remain +with them through most if not all of the winter. Henry Manning was +evidently annoyed at the announcement. + +"I wish," he said, "that George had chosen to make his visit in the +summer, when most of the people to whom I should hesitate to introduce +him would have been absent. I should be sorry to hurt his feelings, but +really, to introduce a Western farmer into polished society--" Henry +Manning shuddered, and was silent. "And then to choose this winter of +all winters for his visit, and to come in December, just at the very +time that I heard yesterday Miss Harcourt was coming from Washington to +spend a few weeks with her friend, Mrs. Duffield!" + +"And what has Miss Harcourt's visit to Mrs. Duffield to do with George's +visit to us?" asked Mrs. Manning. + +"A great deal--at least it has a great deal to do with my regret that he +should come just now. I told you how I became acquainted with Emma +Harcourt in Europe, and what a splendid creature she is. Even in Paris, +she bore the palm for wit and beauty--and fashion too--that is in +English and American society. But I did not tell you that she received +me with such distinguished favor, and evinced so much pretty +consciousness at my attentions, that had not her father, having been +chosen one of the electors of President and Vice-President, hurried from +Paris in order to be in this country in time for his vote, I should +probably have been induced to marry her. Her father is in Congress this +year, and you see, she no sooner learns that I am here, than she comes +to spend part of the winter with a friend in New-York." + +Henry arose at this, walked to a glass, surveyed his elegant figure, and +continuing to cast occasional glances at it as he walked backwards and +forwards through the room, resumed the conversation, or rather his own +communication. + +"All this is very encouraging, doubtless; but Emma Harcourt is so +perfectly elegant, so thoroughly refined, that I dread the effect upon +her of any _outre_ association--by the by, mother, if I obtain her +permission to introduce you to her, you will not wear that brown hat in +visiting her--a brown hat is my aversion--it is positively vulgar--but +to return to George--how can I introduce him, with his rough, +boisterous, Western manner, to this courtly lady?--the very thought +chills me"--and Henry Manning shivered--"and yet, how can I avoid it, if +we should be engaged?" + +With December came the beautiful Emma Harcourt, and Mrs. Duffield's +house was thronged with her admirers. Hers was the form and movement of +the Huntress Queen rather than of one trained in the halls of fashion. +There was a joyous freedom in her air, her step, her glance, which, had +she been less beautiful, less talented, less fortunate in social +position or in wealth, would have placed her under the ban of fashion; +but, as it was, she commanded fashion, and even Henry Manning, the very +slave of conventionalism, had no criticism for her. He had been among +the first to call on her, and the blush that flitted across her cheek, +the smile that played upon her lips, as he was announced, might well +have flattered one even of less vanity. + +The very next day, before Henry had had time to improve these symptoms +in her favor, on returning home, at five o'clock, to his dinner, he +found a stranger in the parlor with his mother. The gentleman arose on +his entrance, and he had scarcely time to glance at the tall, manly +form, the lofty air, the commanding brow, ere he found himself clasped +in his arms, with the exclamation, "Dear Henry! how rejoiced I am to see +you again." + +In George Manning the physical and intellectual man had been developed +in rare harmony. He was taller and larger every way than his brother +Henry, and the self-reliance which the latter had laboriously attained +from the mastery of all conventional rules, was his by virtue of a +courageous soul, which held itself above all rules but those prescribed +by its own high sense of the right. There was a singular contrast, +rendered yet more striking by some points of resemblance, between the +pupil of society, and the child of the forest--between the Parisian +elegance of Henry, and the proud, free grace of George. His were the +step and bearing which we have seen in an Indian chief; but thought had +left its impress on his brow, and there was in his countenance that +indescribable air of refinement which marks a polished mind. In a very +few minutes Henry became reconciled to his brother's arrival, and +satisfied with him in all respects but one--his dress. This was of the +finest cloth, but made into large, loose trowsers, and a species of +hunting-shirt, trimmed with fur, belted around the waist, and +descending to the knee, instead of the tight pantaloons and closely +fitting body coat prescribed by fashion. The little party lingered long +over the table--it was seven o'clock before they arose from it. + +"Dear mother," said George Manning, "I am sorry to leave you this +evening, but I will make you rich amends to-morrow by introducing to you +the friend I am going to visit, if you will permit me. Henry, it is so +long since I was in New-York that I need some direction in finding my +way--must I turn up or down Broadway for Number--, in going from this +street?" + +"Number--," exclaimed Henry in surprise; "you must be mistaken--that is +Mrs. Duffield's." + +"Then I am quite right, for it is at Mrs. Duffield's that I expect to +meet my friend this evening." + +With some curiosity to know what friend of George could have so +completely the _entree_ of the fashionable Mrs. Duffield's house as to +make an appointment there, Henry proposed to go with him and show him +the way. There was a momentary hesitation in George's manner before he +replied, "Very well, I shall be obliged to you." + +"But--excuse me George--you are not surely going in that dress--this is +one of Mrs. Duffield's reception evenings, and, early as it is, you will +find company there." + +George laughed as he replied; "They must take me as I am, Henry. We do +not receive our fashions from Paris at the West." + +Henry almost repented his offer to accompany his brother; but it was too +late to withdraw, for George, unconscious of this feeling, had taken his +cloak and cap, and was awaiting his escort. As they approached Mrs. +Duffield's house, George, who had hitherto led the conversation, became +silent, or answered his brother only in monosyllables, and then not +always to the purpose. As they entered the hall, the hats and cloaks +displayed there showed that, as Henry supposed, they were not the +earliest visitors. George paused for a moment and said, "You must go in +without me, Henry. Show me to a room where there is no company," he +continued, turning to a servant--"and take this card in to Mrs. +Duffield--be sure to give it to Mrs. Duffield herself." + +The servant bowed low to the commanding stranger; and Henry, almost +mechanically, obeyed his direction, muttering to himself, "Free and +easy, upon my honor." He had scarcely entered the usual reception-room +and made his bow to Mrs. Duffield, when the servant presented his +brother's card. He watched her closely, and saw a smile playing over her +lips as her eyes rested on it. She glanced anxiously at Miss Harcourt, +and crossing the room to a group in which she stood, she drew her aside. +After a few whispered words, Mrs. Duffield placed the card in Miss +Harcourt's hand. A sudden flash of joy irradiated every feature of her +beautiful face, and Henry Manning saw that, but for Mrs. Duffield's +restraining hand, she would have rushed from the room. Recalled thus to +a recollection of others, she looked around her, and her eyes met his. +In an instant, her face was covered with blushes, and she drew back with +embarrassed consciousness--almost immediately, however, she raised her +head with a proud, bright expression, and though she did not look at +Henry Manning, he felt that she was conscious of his observation, as she +passed with a composed yet joyous step from the room. + +Henry Manning was awaking from a dream. It was not a very pleasant +awakening, but as his vanity rather than his heart was touched, he was +able to conceal his chagrin, and appear as interesting and agreeable as +usual. He now expected with some impatience the _denouement_ of the +comedy. An hour passed away, and Mrs. Duffield's eye began to consult +the marble clock on her mantel-piece. The chime for another half-hour +rang out; and she left the room and returned in a few minutes, leaning +on the arm of George Manning. + +"Who is that?--What noble-looking man is that?" were questions Henry +Manning heard from many--from a very few only the exclamation, "How +oddly he is dressed!" Before the evening was over Henry began to feel +that he was eclipsed on his own theatre--that George, if not _in the +fashion_, was yet more _the fashion_ than he. + +Following the proud, happy glance of his brother's eye, a quarter of an +hour later, Henry saw Miss Harcourt entering the room in an opposite +direction from that in which she had lately come. If this was a _ruse_ on +her part to veil the connection between their movements, it was a +fruitless caution. None who had seen her before could fail now to +observe the softened character of her beauty, and those who saw + + "A thousand blushing apparitions start + Into her face"-- + +whenever his eyes rested on her, could scarcely doubt his influence over +her. + +The next morning George Manning brought Miss Harcourt to visit his +mother; and Mrs. Manning rose greatly in her son Henry's estimation, +when he saw the affectionate deference evinced towards her by the proud +beauty. + +"How strange my manner must have seemed to you sometimes!" said Miss +Harcourt to Henry one day. "I was engaged to George long before I met +you in Europe; and though I never had courage to mention him to you, I +wondered a little that you never spoke of him. I never doubted for a +moment that you were acquainted with our engagement." + +"I do not even yet understand where and how you and George met." + +"We met at home--my father was Governor of the Territory--State now--in +which your uncle lives: our homes were very near each other's, and so we +met almost daily while I was still a child. We have had all sorts of +adventures together; for George was a great favorite with my father, and +I was permitted to go with him anywhere. He has saved my life +twice--once at the imminent peril of his own, when with the wilfulness +of a spoiled child I would ride a horse which he told me I could not +manage. Oh! you know not half his nobleness," and tears moistened the +bright eyes of the happy girl. + +Henry Manning was touched through all his conventionalism, yet the +moment after he said, "George is a fine fellow, certainly; but I wish +you could persuade him to dress a little more like other people." + +"I would not if I could," exclaimed Emma Harcourt, while the blood +rushed to her temples; "fashions and all such conventional regulations +are made for those who have no innate perception of the right, the +noble, the beautiful--not for such as he--he is above fashion." + +What Emma would not ask, she yet did not fail to recognize as another +proof of correct judgment, when George Manning laid aside his Western +costume and assumed one less remarkable. + +Henry Manning had received a new idea--that there are those who are +above the fashion. Allied to this was another thought, which in time +found entrance to his mind, that it would be at least as profitable to +devote our energies to the acquisition of true nobility of soul, pure +and high thought and refined taste, as to the study of those +conventionalisms which are but their outer garment, and can at best only +conceal for a short time their absence. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The next day was brilliant. Snow had fallen during the night, and the +sun, which arose without a cloud, was reflected back from it with +dazzling brightness, while every branch and spray glittered in its +casing of ice as though it had been a huge diamond. Before we met at +breakfast, the younger members of the party had decided on a +sleigh-ride. Even Col. Donaldson _malgre_ old age and rheumatism, found +himself unable to resist the cheerful morning and their gay +solicitations, and accompanied them. Mrs. Donaldson and I were left +alone, a circumstance which did not afflict either of us. Mrs. Donaldson +was never at a loss for pleasant occupation for her hours, and Annie had +given me something to do in parting. + +"Remember, Aunt Nancy, we shall look to you for our entertainment this +evening; you shall be permitted to choose your subject. Is not that +gracious?" she added, with a laugh at her own style of command, +springing at the same moment from the sleigh in which Mr. Arlington had +already placed himself at her side, and running up the steps to the +piazza, where I stood, that she might give me another kiss, and satisfy +herself that she had not wounded the _amour propre_ of her old friend, +by speaking so much _en reine_. I was, in truth, pleased to be reminded +of the demand which might be made on me in the evening, while I had time +to glance over sketches intended only for myself, and ascertain whether +they contained any thing likely to interest others. + +A late dinner re-united us, and the fatigues of the morning having been +repaired by an hour's rest in the afternoon, our party was more than +usually fresh and ready for enjoyment when we met in the evening. I had +availed myself of Annie's permission, and selected my subject. It was a +crayon sketch of a lovely lake, taken by Philip Oswald, the son of one +of my most valued friends. The sketch was made while all around remained +in the wilderness of uncultivated nature. Since that day, the stillness +has been disturbed by the sound of the axe and the hammer. Upon the +borders of that sweet lake, a fair home has risen, from which the +incense of grateful and loving hearts has gone up to the Creator of so +much beauty. The associations which made this scene peculiarly +interesting to me I had long since written out, and now give to the +reader under the title of + + +LOSS AND GAIN; + +OR, HEARTS VERSUS DIAMONDS. + +Winter had thrown its icy fetters over the Hudson, and stilled even the +stormier waves of the East River, as the inhabitants of New-York +designate that portion of the Harbor which lies between their city and +Brooklyn. The city itself--its streets--its houses--all wore the livery +of this "ruler of the inverted year"--while in many a garret and cellar +of its crowded streets, ragged children huddled together, seeking to +warm their frozen limbs beneath the scanty covering of their beds, or +cowering over the few half-dying embers, which they misnamed a fire. Yet +the social affections were not chilled--rather did they seem to glow +more warmly, as though rejoicing in their triumph over the mighty +conqueror of the physical world. Christian charity went forth unchecked +through the frosty air and over the snow-clad streets, to shelter the +houseless, to clothe the naked, to warm the freezing. Human sympathies +awoke to new-life, the dying hopes and failing energies of man; and the +sleigh-bells, ringing out their joyous peals through the day, and far, +far into the night, told that the young and fair were abroad braving all +the severities of the season, in their eager search after pleasure. In +the neighborhood of Waverley Place, especially, on the evening of the +16th of December, did this merry music "wake the silent air" to respond +to the quick beatings of the gay young hearts anticipating the fete of +fetes, the most brilliant party of the season, which was that evening to +be given at the house of the ruler of fashion--the elegant Mrs. Bruton. + +Instead of introducing our readers to the gay assemblage of this lady's +guests, we will take them to the dressing-room of the fairest among +them, the beautiful, the gay, the brilliant Caroline Danby. As the door +of this inner temple of beauty opens at the touch of our magic wand, its +inmate is seen standing before a mirror, and her eye beams, and her lip +is smiling with anticipated triumph. Does there seem vanity in the gaze +she fastens there? Look on that form of graceful symmetry, on those +large black eyes with their jetty fringes, on the rich coloring of her +rounded cheeks, and the dewy freshness of her red lip, and you will +forget to censure. But see, the mirror reflects another form--a form so +slender that it seems scarcely to have attained the full proportions of +womanhood, and a face whose soft gray eyes and fair complexion, and hair +of the palest gold, present a singular contrast to the dark yet glowing +beauty beside her. This is Mary Grayson, the orphan cousin of Caroline +Danby, who has grown up in her father's house. She has glided in with +her usual gentle movement, and light, noiseless step, and Caroline first +perceives her in the glass. + +"Ah, Mary!" she exclaims, "I sent for you to put this diamond spray in +my hair; you arrange it with so much more taste than any one else." + +Mary smilingly receives the expensive ornament, and fastens it amidst +the dark, glossy tresses. At this moment the doorbell gives forth a +hasty peal, and going to the head of the stairs, Mary remains listening +till the door is opened, and then comes back to say, "Mrs. Oswald, +Caroline, and Philip." + +"Pray, go down and entertain them till I come, Mary"--and seemingly +nothing loth, Mary complies with the request. + +In the drawing-room to which Mary Grayson directed her steps stood a +stately looking lady, who advanced to meet her as she entered, and +kissing her affectionately, asked, "Are you not going with us this +evening?" + +"No; my sore throat has increased, and the Doctor is positive; there is +no appeal from him, you know; I am very sorry, for I wished to see some +of Philip's foreign graces," she said playfully, as she turned to give +her hand to a gentleman who had entered while she was speaking. He +received it with the frank kindness of a brother, but before he could +reply the door of the drawing-room opened, and Caroline Danby appeared +within it. Philip Oswald sprang forward to greet her, and from that +moment seemed forgetful that there was any other thing in life deserving +his attention, save her radiant beauty. Perhaps there was some little +regard to the effect of his first glance at that beauty, in her +presenting herself in the drawing-room with her cloak and hood upon her +arm, the diamond sparkling in her uncovered tresses, and the soft, rich +folds of her satin dress and its flowing lace draperies, shading without +concealing the graceful outline of her form. The gentleman who gazed so +admiringly upon her, who wrapped her cloak around her with such tender +care, and even insisted, kneeling gracefully before her, on fastening +himself the warm, furred overshoes upon her slender foot, seemed a fit +attendant at the shrine of beauty. Philip Oswald had been only a few +weeks at home, after an absence of four years spent in European travel. +The quality in his appearance and manners, which first impressed the +observer, was refinement--perfect elegance, without the least touch of +coxcombry. It had been said of him, that he had brought home the taste +in dress of a Parisian, the imaginativeness of a German, and the voice +and passion for music of an Italian. Few were admitted to such intimacy +with him as to look into the deeper qualities of the mind--but those who +were, saw there the sturdy honesty of John Bull, and the courageous +heart and independent spirit of his own America. Some of those who knew +him best, regretted that the possession of a fortune, which placed him +among the wealthiest in America, would most probably consign him to a +life of indolence, in which his highest qualities would languish for +want of exercise. + +By nine o'clock Caroline Danby's preparations were completed, and +leaning on one of Philip Oswald's arms, while the other was given to his +mother, she was led out, and placed in the most splendid sleigh in New +York, and wrapped in the most costly furs. Philip followed, the weary +coachman touched his spirited horses with the whip, the sleigh-bells +rang merrily out, and Mary Grayson was left in solitude. + +The last stroke of three had ceased to vibrate on the air when Caroline +Danby again stood beside her cousin. Mary was sleeping, and a painter +might have hesitated whether to give the palm of beauty to the soft, +fair face, which looked so angel-like in its placid sleep, or to that +which bent above her in undimmed brilliancy. + +"Is it you, Caroline? What time is it?" asked Mary, as she aroused at +her cousin's call. + +"Three o'clock; but wake up, Mary; I have something to tell you, which +must not be heard by sleepy ears." + +"How fresh you look!" exclaimed Mary, sitting up in bed and looking at +her cousin admiringly. "Who would believe you had been dancing all +night!" + +"I have not been dancing all night, nor half the night." + +"Why--what have you been doing then?" + +"Listening to Philip Oswald. Oh Mary! I am certainly the most fortunate +woman in the world. He is mine at last--he, the most elegant, the most +brilliant man in New-York, and with such a splendid fortune. I was so +happy, so excited, that I could not sleep, and therefore I awoke you to +talk." + +"I am glad you did, for I am almost as much pleased as you can be--such +joy is better than sleep;--but all the bells in the city seem to be +ringing--did you see any thing of the fire?" + +"Oh yes! the whole sky at the southeast is glowing from the flames--the +largest fire, they say, that has ever been known in the city--but it is +far enough from us--down in Wall-street--and who can think of fires with +such joy before them? Only think, Mary, with Philip's fortune and +Philip's taste, what an establishment I shall have." + +"And what a mother in dear, good Mrs. Oswald!" + +"Yes--but I hope she will not wish to live with us--mother-in-laws, you +know, always want to manage every thing in their sons' houses." + +Thus the cousins sat talking till the fire-bells ceased their monotonous +and ominous clang, and the late dawn of a winter morning reddened the +eastern sky. It was half-past nine o'clock when they met again at their +breakfast; yet late as it was, Mr. Danby, usually a very early riser, +was not quite ready for it. He had spent most of the night at the scene +of the fire, and had with great difficulty and labor saved his valuable +stock of French goods from the destroyer. When he joined his daughter +and niece, his mind was still under the influence of last night's +excitement, and he could talk of nothing but the fire. + +"Rather expensive fireworks, I am afraid," said Caroline flippantly, as +her father described the lurid grandeur of the scene. + +"Do not speak lightly, my daughter, of that which must reduce many from +affluence to beggary. Millions of property were lost last night. The +16th of December, 1835, will long be remembered in the annals of +New-York, I fear." + +"It will long be remembered in my annals," whispered Caroline to her +cousin, with a bright smile, despite her father's chiding. + +"Not at home to any but Mr. Philip Oswald," had been Caroline Danby's +order to the servant this morning; and thus when she was told, at twelve +o'clock, that that gentleman awaited her in the drawing-room, she had +heard nothing more of the fire than her father and the morning paper had +communicated. As she entered, Philip arose to greet her, but though he +strove to smile as his eyes met hers, the effort was vain; and throwing +himself back on the sofa, he covered his face with his hand, as though +to hide his pallor and the convulsive quivering of his lips from her +whom he was reluctant to grieve. Emboldened by her fears, Caroline +advanced, and laying her hand on his, exclaimed, "What is the +matter?--Are you ill?--your mother?--pray do not keep me in suspense, +but tell me what has happened." + +He seemed to have mastered his emotion, from whatever cause it had +proceeded; for removing his hand, he looked earnestly upon her, and +drawing her to a seat beside him, said in firm, though sad tones, "That +has happened, Caroline, which would not move me thus, but for your dear +sake--I asked you last night to share my fortune--to-day I have none to +offer you." + +"Gracious heaven!" exclaimed Caroline, turning as pale as he, "what do +you mean?" + +"That in the fire last night, or the failures which the most sanguine +assure me it must produce, my whole fortune is involved. If I can +recover from the wreck what will secure to my poor mother the +continuance of her accustomed comforts, it will be beyond my hopes; for +me--the luxuries, the comforts, the very necessaries of life must be the +produce of my own exertion. I do not ask you to share my poverty, +Caroline; I cannot be so selfish; had I not spoken of my love last +night, you should never have heard it--though it had been like a burning +fire, I would have shut it up within my heart--but it is too late for +this; you have heard it, and I have heard--the remembrance brings with +it a wild delirious joy, even in this hour of darkness "--and the pale +face of Philip Oswald flushed, and his dimmed eye beamed brightly again +as he spoke: "I have heard your sweet confession of reciprocal regard. +Months, perhaps years may pass before I attain the goal at which I last +night thought myself to have already arrived--before I can dare to call +you mine--but in our land, manly determination and perseverance ever +command success, and I fear not to promise you, dearest, one day a happy +home--though not a splendid one--if you will promise me to share it. +Look on me, Caroline--give me one smile to light me on my way--with such +a hope before me, I cannot say my _dreary_ way." + +He ceased, yet Caroline neither looked upon him, nor spoke. Her cheek +had grown pale at his words, and she sat down with downcast eyes, cold, +still, statue-like at his side. Yet did not Philip Oswald doubt her +love. Had not her eye kindled and her cheek flushed at his whispered +vows--had not her hand rested lovingly in his, and her lip been yielded +to the first kiss of love--how, then, could he dare to doubt her? She +was grieved for his sake--he had been selfishly abrupt in his first +communication of his sorrow, and now he--the stronger--must struggle to +bear and to speak cheerfully for her sake. And with this feeling he had +been able to conclude far more cheerfully than he commenced. As she +still continued silent, he bent forward, and would have pressed his lip +to her cheek, saying, "Not one word for me, dear one,"--but, drawing +hastily back, Caroline said with great effort, + +"I think, Mr. Oswald--it seems to me that--that--an engagement must be a +heavy burden to one who has to make his own way in life--I--I should be +sorry to be a disadvantage to you." + +It was a crushing blow, and for an instant he sat stunned into almost +death-like stillness by it:--but he rallied;--he would leave no loop on +which hope or fancy might hereafter hang a doubt. "Caroline," he said, +in a voice whose change spoke the intensity of his feelings, "do not +speak of disadvantage to me--your love was the one star left in my +sky--but that matters not--what I would know is, whether you desire that +the record of last evening should be blotted from the history of our +lives?" + +"I--I think it had better be--I am sure I wish you well, Mr. Oswald." + +It was well for her, perhaps, that she did not venture to meet his +eye--that look of withering scorn could hardly ever have vanished from +her memory--it was enough to hear his bitter laugh, and the accents in +which he said, "Thank you, Miss Danby--your wishes are fully +reciprocated--may you never know a love less prudent than your own." + +The door closed on him, and she was alone--left to the companionship of +her own heart--evil companionship in such an hour! She hastened to +relate all that had passed to Mary, but Mary had no assurances for +her--she had only sympathy for Philip--"dear Philip"--as she called him +over and over again. "I think it would better become one so young as you +are, to say, Mr. Oswald, Mary," said Caroline, pettishly. + +"I have called him Philip from my childhood, Caroline--I shall not begin +to say Mr. Oswald _now_." Mary did not mean a reproach, but to +Caroline's accusing conscience it sounded like one, and she turned away +indignantly. She soon, however, sought her cousin again with a note in +her hand. + +"I have been writing to Mrs. Oswald, Mary," she said; "you are perhaps +too young, and Mr. Oswald too much absorbed in his own disappointment, +to estimate the propriety of my conduct; but she will, I am sure, agree +with me, that one expensively reared as I have been, accustomed to every +luxury, and perfectly ignorant of economy, would make the worst possible +wife to a poor man; and she has so much influence over Mr. Oswald, that, +should she accord with me in opinion on this point, she can easily +convince him of its justice. Will you take my note to her? I do not like +to send it by a servant--it might fall into Philip's hands." + +Nothing could have pleased Mary more than this commission, for her +affectionate heart was longing to offer its sympathy to her friends. +Mrs. Oswald assumed perhaps a little more than her usual stateliness +when she heard her announced, but it vanished instantly before Mary's +tearful eye, as she kissed the hand that was extended to her. Mrs. +Oswald folded her arms around her, and Mary sank sobbing upon the bosom +of her whom she had come to console. And Mrs. Oswald was consoled by +such true and tender sympathy. It was long before Mary could prevail on +herself to disturb the flow of gentler affections by delivering +Caroline's note. Mrs. Oswald received it with an almost contemptuous +smile, which remained unchanged while she read. It was a labored effort +to make her conduct seem a generous determination not to obstruct +Philip's course in life, by binding him to a companion so unsuitable to +his present prospects as herself. In reply, Mrs. Oswald assured Caroline +Danby of her perfect agreement with her in the conviction that she +would make a very unsuitable wife for Philip Oswald. "This," she added, +"was always my opinion, though I was unwilling to oppose my son's +wishes. I thank you for having convinced him I was right in the only +point on which we ever differed." + +It cannot be supposed that this note was very pleasing to Caroline +Danby; but, whatever were her dissatisfaction, she did not complain, and +probably soon lost all remembrance of her chagrin in the gayeties which +a few men of fortune still remained, amidst the almost universal ruin, +to promote and to partake. + +In the mean time, Philip Oswald was experiencing that restlessness, that +burning desire to free himself from all his present associations, to +begin, as it were, a new life, which the first pressure of sorrow so +often arouses in the ardent spirit. Had not his will been "bound down by +the iron chain of necessity," he would probably have returned to Europe, +and wasted his energies amidst aimless wanderings. As it was, he chose +among those modes of life demanded by his new circumstances, that which +would take him farthest from New-York, and place him in a condition the +most foreign to all his past experience, and demanding the most active +and most incessant exertion. Out of that which the fire, the failure of +Insurance Companies and of private individuals, had left him remained, +after the purchase of a liberal annuity for his mother, a few thousands +to be devoted either to merchandise, to his support while pursuing the +studies necessary for the acquirement of a profession, or to any mode of +gaining a living, which he might prefer to these. The very hour which +ascertained this fact, saw his resolution taken and his course marked +out. + +"I must have new scenery for this new act in the drama of my life," he +said to his mother. "I must away--away from all the artificialities and +trivialities of my present world, to the rich prairies, the wide +streams, the boundless expanse of the West. I go to make a new home for +you dear mother--you shall be the queen of my kingdom." + +This was not the choice that would have pleased an ambitious, or an +over-fond mother. The former would have preferred a profession, as +conferring higher social distinction; the latter would have shrunk from +seeing one nursed in the lap of luxury go forth to encounter the +hardships of a pioneer. But Mrs. Oswald possessed an intelligence which +recognized in that life of bold adventure, and physical endurance, and +persevering labor, that awaited her son in the prosecution of his plans, +the best school for the development of that decision and force of +character which she had desired as the crowning seal to Philip's +intellectual endowments, warm affections, and just principles; and, +holding his excellence as the better part of her own happiness, she +sanctioned his designs, and did all in her power to promote their +execution. He waited, therefore, only to see her leave the house whose +rent now exceeded her whole annual income, for pleasant rooms in a +boarding-house, agreeably situated, before he set out from New-York. + +It is not our intention minutely to trace his course, to describe the +"local habitation" which he acquired, or detail the difficulties which +arose in his progress, the strength with which he combated, or the means +by which he overcame them. For his course, suffice it that it was +westward; for his habitation, that it was on the slope of a hill crowned +with the gigantic trees of that fertile soil, and beside a lake, "a +sheet of silver" well fitted to be-- + + "A mirror and a bath for beauty's youngest daughters;" + +and that the house, which he at length succeeded in raising and +furnishing there, united somewhat the refinement of his past life to the +simplicity of his present; for his difficulties, we can only say, he +met them and conquered them, and gained from each encounter knowledge +and power. For two years, letters were the only medium of intercourse +between his mother and himself, but those letters were a history--a +history not only of his stirring, outer life, but of that inner life +which yet more deeply interested her. Feeling proud herself of the +daring spirit, the iron will, the ready invention which these letters +displayed, yet prouder of the affectionate heart, the true and generous +nature, it is not wonderful that Mrs. Oswald should have often read +them, or at least parts of them, to her constant friend and very +frequent visitor, Mary Grayson. Nor is it more strange that Mary, thus +made to recognize in the most interesting man she had yet known, far +more lofty claims to her admiration, should have enshrined him in her +young and pure imagination as some "bright, particular star." + +Two years in the future! How almost interminable seems the prospect to +our hopes or our affections!--but let Time turn his perspective +glass--let us look at it in the past, and how it shrinks and becomes as +a day in the history of our lives! So was it with Philip Oswald's two +years of absence, when he found himself, in the earliest dawn of the +spring of 1838, once more in New-York. Yet that time had not passed +without leaving traces of its passage--traces in the changes affecting +those around him--yet deeper traces in himself. He arrived in the +afternoon of an earlier day than that on which he had been expected. In +the evening Mrs. Oswald persuaded him to assume, for the gratification +of her curiosity, the picturesque costume worn by him in his western +home. He had just re-entered her room, and she was yet engaged in +animated observation of the hunting-shirt, strapped around the waist +with a belt of buckskin, the open collar, and loosely knotted cravat, +which, as the mother's heart whispered, so well became that tall and +manly form, when there was a slight tap at the door, and before she +could speak, it opened, and Mary Grayson stood within it. She gazed in +silence for a moment on the striking figure before her, and her mind +rapidly scanned the changes which time and new modes of life had made in +the Philip Oswald of her memory. As she did so, she acknowledged that +the embrowned face and hands, the broader and more vigorous proportions, +and even the easy freedom of his dress, were more in harmony with the +bold and independent aspect which his character had assumed, than the +delicacy and elegance by which he had formerly been distinguished. His +outer man was now the true index of a noble, free, and energetic +spirit--a spirit which, having conquered itself, was victor over +all--and as such, it attracted from Mary a deeper and more reverent +admiration, than she had felt for him when adorned with all the +trappings of wealth and luxurious refinement. The very depth of this +sentiment destroyed the ease of her manner towards him, and as Philip +Oswald took the hand formerly so freely offered him, and heard from her +lips the respectful Mr. Oswald, instead of the frank, sisterly Philip, +he said to himself--"She looks down upon the backwoodsman, and would +have him know his place." So much for man's boasted penetration! + +Notwithstanding the barrier of reserve thus erected between them, Philip +Oswald could not but admire the rare loveliness into which Mary +Grayson's girlish prettiness had expanded, and again, and yet again, +while she was speaking to his mother, and could not therefore perceive +him, he turned to gaze on her, fascinated not by the finely turned form +or beautiful features, but by the countenance beaming with gentle and +refined intelligence. Here was none of the brilliancy which had dazzled +his senses in Caroline Danby, but an expression of mind and heart far +more captivating to him who had entered into the inner mysteries of +life. + +A fortnight was the limit of Philip Oswald's stay in the city. He had +come not for his mother, but for the house in which she was to live, and +he carried it back with him. We do not mean that his house, with all its +conveniences of kitchen and pantry, its elegances of parlor and +drawing-room, and its decorations of pillar and cornice fitly joined +together, travelled off with him to the far West. We do not despair of +seeing such a feat performed some day, but we believe it has not yet +been done, and Philip Oswald, at least, did not attempt it; he took with +him, however, all those useful and ornamental contrivances in their +several parts, accompanied by workmen skilled in putting the whole +together. Again in his western home, for another year, his head and his +hands were fully occupied with building and planting. For the first two +years of his forest life, he had thought only of the substantial produce +of the field--the rye, the barley, the Indian corn, which were to be +exchanged for the "omnipotent dollar"--but woman was coming, and beauty +and grace must be the herald of her steps. For his mother, he planted +fruits and flowers, opened views of the lake, made a gravelled walk to +its shore bordered with flowering shrubs, and wreathed the woodbine, the +honeysuckle, and the multiflora rose around the columns of his piazza. +For his mother this was done, and yet, when the labors of the day were +over, and he looked forth upon them in the cool, still evening hour, it +was not his mother's face, but one younger and fairer which peered out +upon him from the vine-leaves, or with tender smiles wooed him to the +lake. Young, fair, and tender as it was, its wooings generally sent him +in an opposite direction, with a sneer at his own folly, to stifle his +fancies with a book, or to mark out the plan of the morrow's operations. + +More than a year had passed away and Philip Oswald was again in +New-York, just as spring was gliding into the ardent embraces of +summer. This time he had come for his mother, and with all the force of +his resolute will, he shut his ears to the flattering suggestions of +fancy, that a dearer pleasure than even that mother's presence might be +won. He had looked steadily upon his lot in life, and he accepted it, +and determined to make the best of it and to be happy in it; yet he felt +that it was after all a rugged lot. Without considering all women as +mercenary as Caroline Danby, which his knowledge of his mother forbade +him to do, even in his most woman-scorning mood, he yet doubted whether +any of those who had been reared amidst the refinements of cultivated +life, could be won to leave them all for love in the western wilds; and +as the unrefined could have no charms for him, he deliberately embraced +_bachelordom_ as a part of his portion, and, not without a sigh, yielded +himself to the conviction that all the wealth of woman's love within his +power to attain, was locked within a mother's heart. + +A fortnight was again the allotted time of Philip Oswald's stay; but +when that had expired, he was persuaded to delay his departure for yet +another week. He had been drawn, by accompanying his mother in her +farewell visits, once more within the vortex of society, and his manly +independence and energy, his knowledge of what was to his companions a +new world, and his spirit-stirring descriptions of its varied beauty and +inexhaustible fertility, made him more the fashion than he had ever +been. He had often met Caroline Danby--now Mrs. Randall--and Mary more +than once delicately turned her eyes away from her cousin's face, lest +she should read there somewhat of chagrin as Mr. Randall, with his +meaningless face and dapper-looking form--insignificant in all save the +reputation of being the wealthiest banker in Wall-street, and possessing +the most elegant house and furniture, the best appointed equipage, and +the handsomest wife in the city--stood beside Philip Oswald with + + "----a form indeed + Where every god did seem to set his seal, + To give the world assurance of a man," + +and a face radiant with intelligence, while circled by an attentive +auditory of that which was noblest and best in their world, his eloquent +enthusiasm made them hear the rushing waters, see the boundless +prairies, and feel for a time all the wild freedom of the untamed West. +Such enthusiasm was gladly welcomed as a breeze in the still air, a +ruffle in the stagnant waters of fashionable life. + +Within two or three days of their intended departure, Mrs. Oswald +proposed to Philip that they should visit a friend residing near Fort +Lee, and invited Mary to accompany them. Among the acquaintances whom +they found on board was an invalid lady, who could not bear the fresh +air upon deck; and Mary, pitying her loneliness and seclusion, remained +for awhile conversing with her in the cabin. Mrs. Oswald and Philip were +on deck, and near them was a young and giddy girl, to whose care a +mother had intrusted a bold, active, joyous infant, seemingly about +eight months old. + +"That is a dangerous position for so lively a child," said Philip Oswald +to the young nurse, as he saw her place him on the side of the boat; "he +may spring from your arms overboard." + +With that foolish tempting of the danger pointed out by another, which +we sometimes see even in women, the girl removed her arms from around +the child, sustaining only a slight hold of its frock. At this moment +the flag of the boat floated within view of the little fellow, and he +sprang towards it. A splash in the water told the rest--but even before +that was heard, Philip Oswald had dashed off his boots and coat, and +the poor child had scarcely touched the waves when he was beside it, and +held it encircled in his arm. + +"Oh, Mary! Mr. Oswald! Mr. Oswald!" cried one of Mary's young +acquaintances, rushing into the cabin with a face blanched with terror. + +"What of him?" questioned Mary, starting eagerly forward. + +"He is in the water. Oh, Mary! he will be drowned." + +Mary did not utter a sound, yet she felt in that moment, for the first +time, how important to her was Philip Oswald's life. Tottering towards +the door, she leaned against it for a moment while all around grew dark, +and strange sounds were buzzing in her ears. The next instant she sank +into a chair and lost her terrors in unconsciousness. The same young +lady who had played the alarmist to her, as she saw the paleness of +death settle on Mary's face and her eyes close, ran again upon the deck, +exclaiming, "Mary Grayson is fainting,--pray come to Mary Grayson." + +Philip Oswald was already on deck, dripping indeed, but unharmed and +looking nobler than ever, as he held the recovered child in his arms. As +that cry, "Mary Grayson is fainting," reached his ears, he threw the +infant to a bystander, and hastened to the cabin followed by Mrs. +Oswald. + +"What has caused this?" cried Mrs. Oswald, as she saw Mary still +insensible, supported on the bosom of her invalid friend. + +"Miss Ladson's precipitation," said the invalid, looking not very +pleasantly on that young lady; "she told her Mr. Oswald was drowning." + +"Well, I am sure I thought he was drowning." + +"If he had been, it would have been a pity to give such information so +abruptly," said Mrs. Oswald, as she took off Mary's bonnet, and loosened +the scarf which was tied around her neck. + +"I am sure," exclaimed Miss Ladson, anxious only to secure herself from +blame,--"I am sure I did not suppose Mary would faint; for when her +uncle's horse threw him, and every body thought he was killed, instead +of fainting she ran out in the street, and did for him more than any +body else could do. I am sure I could not think she would care more for +Mr. Oswald's danger than for her own uncle's." + +No one replied to this insinuation; but that Philip Oswald heard it, +might have been surmised from the sudden flush that rose to his temples, +and from his closer clasp of the unconscious form, which at his mother's +desire he was bearing to a settee. Whether it were the water which oozed +from his saturated garments over her face and neck, or some subtle +magnetic fluid conveyed in that tender clasp, that aroused her, we +cannot tell; but a faint tinge of color revisited her cheeks and lips, +and as Philip laid her tenderly down, while his arms were still around +her, and his face was bending over her, she opened her eyes. What there +was in that first look which called such a sudden flash of joy into +Philip Oswald's eyes, we know not; nor what were the whispered words +which, as he bowed his head yet lower, sent a crimson glow into Mary's +pale cheeks. This however we do know, that Mrs. Oswald and her son +delayed their journey for yet another week; and that the day before +their departure Philip Oswald stood with Mary Grayson at his side before +God's holy altar, and there, in the presence of his mother, Mr. Danby, +Mr. and Mrs. Randall, and a few friends, they took those vows which made +them one for ever. + +Does some starched prude, or some lady interested in the bride's +_trousseau_, exclaim against such unseemly haste? We have but one excuse +for them. They were so unfashionable as to prefer the gratification of a +true affection to the ceremonies so dear to vanity, and to think more of +the earnest claims of life than of its gilded pomps. + +Mr. Danby had been unable to pay down the bride's small dower of 8000 +dollars; and when he called on his son-in-law, Mr. Randall, to assist +him, he could only offer to indorse his note to Mr. Oswald for the +amount, acknowledging that it would be perilous at that time to abstract +even half that amount from his business. It probably would have been +perilous indeed, as in little more than a month after he failed for an +enormous amount; but fear not, reader, for the gentle Caroline: she +still retained her elegant house and furniture, her handsome equipage +and splendid jewels. These were only a small part of what the indignant +creditors found had been made over to her by her grateful husband. + +Six years have passed away since the occurrence of the events we have +been recording. Caroline Randall, weary of the sameness of splendor in +her home, has been abroad for two years, travelling with a party of +friends. It is said--convenient phrase that--that her husband had +declared she must and shall return, and that to enforce his will he has +resolved to send her no more remittances, to honor no more of her +drafts, as she has already almost beggared him by her extravagance +abroad. Verily, she has her reward! + +One farewell glance at our favorite, Mary Grayson, and we have done. + +Beside a lovely lake, over whose margin light graceful shrubs are +bending, and on whose transparent waters lie the dense forest shadows, +though here and there the golden rays of the declining sun flash through +the tangled boughs upon its dancing waves, a noble-looking boy of four +years old is sailing his mimic fleet, while a lovely girl, two years +younger, toddles about, picking "pitty flowers," and bringing them to +"papa, mamma, or grandmamma," as her capricious fancy prompts. Near by, +papa, mamma, grandmamma, and one pleased and honored guest, are grouped +beneath the bending boughs of a magnificent black walnut, and around a +table on which strawberries and cream, butter sweet as the breath of the +cows that yielded it, biscuits light and white, and bread as good as +Humbert himself could make, are served in a style of elegant simplicity, +while the silver urn in which the water hisses, and the small china cups +into which the fragrant tea is poured, if they are somewhat antique in +fashion, are none the less beautiful or the less valued by those who +still prize the slightest object associated with the affections beyond +the gratification of the vanity. + +The evening meal is over. The shadows grow darker on the lake. Agreeable +conversation has given place to silent enjoyment, which Mrs. Oswald +interrupts to say, "Philip, this is the hour for music; let us have some +before Mary leaves us with the children." + +Full, deep-toned was the manly voice that swelled upon that evening air, +and soft and clear its sweet accompaniment, while the words, full of +adoring gratitude and love, seemed incense due to the heaven which had +so blessed them. + +The last sweet notes had died away, and Mary, calling the children, +leads them to their quiet repose, after they have bestowed their +good-night kisses. Philip Oswald follows her with his eyes, as, with a +child on each hand, she advances with gentle grace upon the easy slope, +to the house on its summit. She enters the piazza, and is screened from +his view by its lattice-work of vines, but he knows that soon his +children will be lisping their evening prayer at her knee, and the +thought calls a tender expression to his eyes as he turns them away from +his "sweet home." + +Contrast this picture with that of Caroline Randall's heartless +splendor, and say whether thou wilt choose for thy portion the +gratification of the true and pure household affections which Heaven has +planted in thy nature, or that of a selfish vanity? + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +This morning, as I sat in the library writing a letter, Annie came in +and seated herself at a table on the opposite side of the room. Her +unusual stillness caused me to look up after some minutes, and I found +that Mr. Arlington's portfolio having been left upon the table, she had +drawn from it one of his pencilings, and was gazing steadfastly upon it, +as I could not but think, with something troubled in the expression of +her usually open and cheerful face. While I was still observing her, the +door behind her opened, and Mr. Arlington himself entered. A blush arose +to Annie's cheeks as she saw him; a blush which had its origin, I +thought, in some deeper feeling than a mere girlish shame at being found +so engrossed by one of his productions. + +"What have you there?" he asked, as seating himself beside her, he took +the paper from what seemed to me her somewhat reluctant hand. No sooner +had he looked on it, than his own bright face became shadowed, as hers +had been, and yet he smiled, too, as he said, "That portfolio is really +an _omnium gatherum_. I had no idea this had found its way there. When I +first read Mrs. Hemans' poem of 'The Bird's Release,' it reminded me of +this scene of my boyhood, though if I have never spoken to you of my +darling Grace, you will not be able to understand why." + +"You never have," said Annie, answering his looks rather than his words, +while a slight increase of color was again perceptible in her fair +cheek. + +"She was my sister, my only sister; we were but two, the petted darlings +of a widowed mother. I told you, that few could sympathize as I could +with Koerner's memory of Mother-love. I was but six years old, and just +such a chubby, broad-shouldered little varlet, I fancy, as I have +sketched here, when Grace, who was two years older, and the loveliest, +merriest little creature in the world, died. My mother was already +beginning to feel the influence of that disease, which, two years later, +terminated her life, and, I have no doubt, the death of Grace, who was +her idol, increased the rapidity of its progress." + +There was silence for some minutes, and then Annie said softly, "But +what of the bird?" + +"It was a thrush which had been given to Grace some time before her +death, and which she was trying to tame for me. My mother could not bear +to see it after her death, and with some difficulty persuaded me to give +it its liberty. You will now see why I should have dedicated this sketch +to Grace, and why these lines should have brought the scene to my mind, +and caused me indeed to make this drawing of it." + +"Will you read the lines for me?" asked Annie, "I had not finished them +when you took the paper from me." + +To tell you a secret, reader, I do not believe she had seen any thing on +the paper except the few words in German text written at its head, "To +my darling Grace." + +Mr. Arlington read in a tone of feeling and interest,-- + + +THE BIRD'S RELEASE. + +BY MRS. HEMANS. + + Go forth, for she is gone! + With the golden light of her wavy hair + She is gone to the fields of the viewless air: + She hath left her dwelling lone! + + Her voice hath pass'd away! + It hath passed away like a summer breeze, + When it leaves the hills for the for blue seas, + Where we may not trace its way. + + Go forth, and like her be free: + With thy radiant wing, and thy glancing eye, + Thou hast all the range of the sunny sky, + And what is our grief to thee? + + Is it aught even to her we mourn? + Doth she look on the tears by her kindred shed? + Doth she rest with the flowers o'er her gentle head? + Or float on the light wind borne? + + We know not--but she is gone! + Her step from the dance, her voice from the song, + And the smile of her eye from the festal throng; + She hath loft her dwelling lone! + + When the waves at sunset shine, + We may hear thy voice amidst thousands more, + In the scented woods of our glowing shore; + But we shall not know 'tis thine! + + Even so with the loved one flown! + Her smile in the starlight may wander by, + Her breath may be near in the wind's low sigh + Around us--but all unknown. + + Go forth, we have loosed thy chains! + We may deck thy cage with the richest flowers + Which the bright day rears in our eastern bowers; + But thou wilt not be lured again. + + Even thus may the summer pour + All fragrant things on the land's green breast, + And the glorious earth like a bride be dress'd; + But it wins _her_ back no more! + +I was doubtful whether either Mr. Arlington or Annie were aware of my +presence, and was just debating with myself whether I should make them +aware of it by addressing them, or quietly steal away, when Col. +Donaldson decided the point by entering the library and speaking to me. +He came to ask that I would come to the parlor and see a boy who had +just been sent from one of our charitable institutions, to which he had +applied for a lad to act as a helper to his old waiter, John, who was +now old enough to require some indulgence, and had always been +trustworthy enough to deserve some. The boy looked intelligent and +honest--he was neat in his person and active in his movements. + +"He is an orphan," said Col. Donaldson, "and the managers of the +institution have offered to bind him to me for seven years, or till he +is of age. What do you think of it!" + +"If the boy himself be willing, I should be glad to know he was so well +provided for," I replied; "though in general, no abolitionist can be +more vehemently opposed to negro slavery than I am to this +apprenticeship business. What is it but a slavery of the worst +description? The master is endowed with irresponsible power, without the +interest in the well-being of his slave, which the planter, the actual +owner of slaves, ordinarily feels." + +"You speak strongly," said Col. Donaldson. + +"I feel strongly on this subject," I answered. "I knew one instance of +the effects of this system which I have often thought of publishing to +the world, as speaking more powerfully against it than a thousand +addresses could do." + +"Tell it to us, Aunt Nancy," said Robert Dudley. + +"It is too long to tell now," said I, as the dinner-bell sounded. + +"Then let us have it this evening," urged Col. Donaldson--"for it is a +subject in which I am much interested." + +Accordingly, in the evening, I gave them the "o'er true tale" of + + +THE YOUNG MISANTHROPE. + +"In the blue summer ocean, far off and alone," lies a little island, +known to mariners in the Pacific only for the fine water with which it +supplies them, and for the bold shore which makes it possible for ships +of considerable tonnage to lie in quiet near the land. Discovered at +first by accident, it has been long, for these reasons, visited both by +English and American whalers. A few years since, and no trace of man's +presence could be found there beyond the belt of rocks, amidst which +arose the springs that were the chief, and indeed only attraction the +island presented to the rough, hardy men by whom it had been visited. +But within that stony girdle lay a landscape soft and lovely as any that +arose within the tropical seas. There the plantain waved its leafy +crown, the orange shed its rich perfume, and bore its golden fruit aloft +upon the desert air, and the light, feathery foliage of the tamarind +moved gracefully to the touch of the dallying breeze. All was green, and +soft, and fair, for there no winter chills the life of nature, but, + + "The bee banquets on through a whole year of flowers." + +It was a scene which might have seemed created for the abode of some +being too bright and good for the common earth of common men, or for +some Hinda and Hafed, who, driven from a world all too harsh and evil +for their nobler natures, might have found in it a refuge, + + "Where the bright eyes of angels only + Should come around them to behold + A paradise so pure and lonely." + +Alas for the dream of the poet! This beautiful island became the refuge, +not of pure and loving hearts, but of one from whose nature cruel +tyranny seemed to have blotted out every feeling and every faculty save +hatred and fear; and he who first introduced into its yet untainted +solitudes the bitter sorrows and dark passions of humanity, was a child, +who, but ten years before, had lain in all the loveliness of sinless +infancy upon a mother's bosom. Of that mother's history he knew +nothing--whether her sin or only her sorrows had thrown him fatherless +upon the world, he was ignorant--he had only a dim memory of gentle +eyes, which had looked on him as no others had ever looked, and of a +low, sweet voice, speak to him such words as he had never heard from any +other. He had been loved, and that love had made his life of penury in +an humble hovel in England, bright and beautiful; but his mother had +passed away from earth, and with her all the light of his existence. +Child as he was, the succeeding darkness preserved long in brightness +the memory of the last look from her fast glazing eyes, the last words +from her dying lips, the last touch of her already death-cold hand. She +died, and the same reluctant charity which consigned her to a pauper's +grave, gave to her boy a dwelling in the parish poor-house. With the +tender mercies of such institutions the author of Oliver Twist has made +the world acquainted. They were such in the present case, that the poor +little Edward Hallett welcomed as the first glad words that had fallen +on his ears for two long, weary years, the news that he was to be bound +apprentice to a captain sailing from Portsmouth in a whaling ship. He +learned rather from what was said _near_ him, than _to_ him, that this +man wanted a cabin boy, but would not have one who was not bound to him, +or to use the more expressive language in which it reached the ears of +his destined victim, "one with whom he could not do as he pleased." + +He who had come within the poor-house walls at six years old, a glad, +rosy-cheeked, chubby child, went from them at eight, thin, and pale, and +grave, with a frame broken by want and labor, a mind clouded, and a +heart repressed by unkindness. But, sad as was the history of those +years, the succeeding two taught the poor boy to regard them as the +vanished brightness of a dream. The man--we should more justly say, the +fiend--to whom the next fourteen years of his life were by bond devoted, +was a savage by nature, and had been rendered yet more brutal by habits +of intoxication. In his drunken orgies, his favorite pastime was to +torture the unfortunate being whom the "guardians of the poor" of an +English parish had placed in his power. It would make the heart of the +reader sick, were we to attempt a detail of the many horrible inventions +by which this modern Caligula amused his leisure hours, and made life +hideous to his victim. Nor was it only from this arch-fiend that the +poor boy suffered. Mate, cook, and sailors, soon found in him a butt for +their jokes, an object on which they might safely vent their ill-humor, +and a convenient cover for their own delinquencies. + +He was beaten for and by them. The evil qualities which man had himself +elicited from his nature, if not implanted there--the sullenness, and +hardiness, and cunning he evinced, were made an excuse for further +injury. During his first voyage of eighteen months, spite of all this, +hope was not entirely dead in his heart. The ship was to return to +England, and he determined to run away from her, and find his way back +to the poor-house. It was a miserable refuge, but it was his only one. +He escaped--he found his way thither through many dangers--he told his +story. It was heard with incredulity, and he was returned to his +tormentors, to learn that there is even in hell "a deeper hell." + +Again he went on a whaling voyage. Day after day the fathomless, the +seemingly illimitable sea, the image of the Infinite was around him--but +his darkened mind saw in it only a prison, which shut him in with his +persecutors. Night after night the stars beamed peacefully above him, +luring his thoughts upward, but he saw in them only the signals of +drunken revelry to others, and of deeper woe to himself. There was but +one wish in his heart--it had almost ceased to be a hope--to escape from +man; to live and die where he should never see his form, never hear his +voice. The ship encountered a severe storm. She was driven from her +course, her voyage lengthened, and some of her water-casks were stove +in. They made for an island, not far distant, by the chart, to take in a +fresh supply of water. Edward Hallett heard the sailors say to each +other that this island was uninhabited, and his wish grew into a +passionate desire--a hope. For the completion of this hope, he had but +one resource--the sword and the shield of the feeble--cunning; and well +he exercised his weapon. + +The ship lay within a quarter of a mile of the shore, and a boat was +sent to procure water--one man remaining always to fill the empty +vessels while the others returned to the ship with those already filled. +The best means of accomplishing his purpose that occurred to the poor +boy was to feign the utmost degree of terror at the lonely and +unprotected situation of this man during the absence of his comrades. He +spoke his terrors where he knew they would be heard by the prime author +of his miseries. The result was what he had anticipated. + +"Ye're afraid, are ye, of being left there by yerself! Ye'd rather be +whipped, or tied up by the thumbs, or be kept at the mast-head all +night, would ye? Then, dam'me, that's just what I'll do to you. Here, +hold on with that boat--take this youngster with you, and you can bring +back Tom, and leave him to fill the casks for you." + +Well did the object of his tyranny act his part. He entreated, he +adjured all around him to save him from so dreaded a fate--in vain, of +course--for his affected agonies only riveted the determination of his +tyrant. It was a new delight to see him writhe in agony, and strive to +draw back from those who were urging him to the boat. He was forced in, +borne to the island, and left to his task. But this was not enough. He +could not escape in the broad light of day, from a spot directly under +the eyes of his tormentors, while between him and the ship a boat was +ever coming and going. Through the day he must persist in the part he +had assumed. He did not fail to continue it, and when the day approached +its close, he sent to the ship the most urgent entreaties that he might +be allowed to return there before it was night. The sailors, rough and +hard as they generally were to him, sympathized with his agony of fear, +and asked that he might return; but his demon was now inflamed by drink, +and every word in favor of his petition insured its rejection. He even +made the unusual exertion of going up himself in the last boat, that he +might see the victim of his malice, and feast his ears with the cries +and objurgations which terror would wring from him. + +"If we should forget you in the morning, you can take the next homeward +bound ship that stops here, but don't tell your friends at the +poor-house too bad a tale of us," were the parting words of this wretch. + +Darkness and silence were around the desolate boy, but they brought no +fear with them. Man, his enemy, was not there. He saw not the beauty of +the heavens, from which the stars looked down on him in their unchanged +serenity, or of the earth, where flowers were springing at his feet, and +graceful shrubs were waving over him. He heard not the deep-toned sea +uttering its solemn music, or the breeze whispering its softer notes in +his ear. He only saw the ship, the abode of men, fading into +indistinctness, as the darkness threw its veil over it; he only heard +the voice in his heart, proclaiming ever and again, "I am free." Before +the morrow dawned, he had surmounted the rocks at the landing place, and +wandered on with no aim, but to put as great a distance as possible +between him and the ship. Two hours' walking brought him again to the +sea, in an opposite direction to that by which he had approached the +island. Here he crawled into a hiding-place among the rocks, and lay +down to rest. The day was again declining before he ventured forth from +his covert, and cautiously approached the distant shore, whence he might +see the ship. He reached the spring by which he had stood yester eve, +when his companions parted from him, with something like pity stirring +in the hearts of all but one among them. Fearfully he looked +around--before him--but no shadow on the earth, no sail upon the +pathless sea, told of man's presence. He was alone--alone indeed, for +the beauty of Nature aroused no emotion in his withered heart, and he +held no communion with Nature's God. He was indeed an orphaned soul. +Could he have loved, had it been but a simple flower, he would have felt +something of the joy of life; but the very power of love seemed to have +been crushed from his heart, by years of cold neglect and harsh +unkindness. + +Weeks, months passed, without any event that might awaken the young +solitary from his torpor. By day, he roved through the island, or lay +listlessly under the shadow of a tree; by night, he slept beneath the +rocks which had first sheltered him; while the fruits, that grew and +ripened without his care, gave him food. Thus he lived a merely animal +life, his strongest sensation one of satisfaction for his relief from +positive suffering, but with nothing that could be called joy in the +present, and with no hope for the future; one to whom God had given an +immortal spirit, capable of infinite elevation in the scale of +intelligence and happiness, and whom man had pressed down to--ay, +below--the level of the brutes, which sported away their brief existence +at his side. Such tyranny as he had experienced, is rare; but its +results may well give an impressive, a fearful lesson, to those to whom +are committed the destinies of a being unconnected with them by any of +those ties which awaken tenderness, and call forth indulgence in the +sternest minds. Let them beware, lest the "iron rule" crush out the life +of the young heart, and darken the intellect by extinguishing the light +of hope. + +Terrible was the retribution which his crimes wrought out for the author +of our young hero's miseries. When he received the intelligence from the +men whom he had sent in the morning to bring him from the island, that +he was nowhere to be found, he read in their countenance what his own +heart was ready to repeat to him, that he was his murderer; for neither +they nor he doubted that the terrified boy had rushed into the sea, and +been drowned in the effort to escape the horrors raised by his wild and +superstitious fancy. From that hour his persecutor suffered tortures as +great as his bitterest enemies could have desired to inflict on him. The +images which drove him with increased eagerness to the bottle, became +more vivid and terrific under the influence of intoxication. He drank +deeper and deeper, in the vain hope to banish them, and died ere many +months had passed, shouting, in his last moments, alternate prayers and +curses to the imagined form of him whom he supposed the hope of revenge +had conjured from the ocean grave to which his cruelties had consigned +him. + +Five months passed over Edward Hallett, in the dead calm of an existence +agitated by neither hope nor fear. The calm was broken one evening by +the sight of a seaman, drawing water from the spring which had brought +his former companions to the island. As he came in sight, the man turned +his head, and stood for an instant spell-bound by the unexpected vision +of a human being on that island, whose matted locks and tattered +garments spoke the extreme of misery. There was only one hope for the +sad wild boy--it was in flight--and turning, he ran swiftly back; but +the path was strewn with rocks, and, in his haste, he stumbled and fell. +In a moment his pursuer stood beside him, acclaiming in a coarse, but +kindly meant language:-- + +"What the devil are you runnin' away from me for, youngster?--I'm sure I +wouldn't hurt ye--but get up, and tell us what you're doing here, and +where ye've come from." + +The speaker attempted, while addressing the boy, to raise him from the +ground, but he resisted all his efforts, and met all his questioning +with sullen silence. + +"By the powers, I'm thinking I've caught a wild man. I wonder if there's +any more of 'em. If I can only get this one aboard, he'll make my +fortune. I'll try for it, any how, and offer the capting to go shares +with my bargain;" and he proceeded to lift the slight form of the pauper +boy in his brawny arms, and bear him to the boat, which, during the +scene, had approached the shore. One who had had less experience of the +iron nature of man, would have endeavored, in Edward Hallett's +circumstances, to move his captor by entreaties to leave him to his +dearly prized freedom; but he had long believed, with the poet, + + "There is no pulse in man's obdurate heart-- + It does not feel for man;" + +and after the first wild struggle, which had only served to show that +he was an infant in the hands of the strong seaman, he abandoned himself +to his fate, in silent despair. With closed eyes and lips, he suffered +himself, without a movement, to be borne to the boat, and deposited in +it, amidst the many uncouth and characteristic exclamations of his +captor and his companions, who would not be convinced that it was really +a child of the human race, thus strangely found on this isolated spot. +Hastily they bore him to the ship, which the providence of God had sent, +under the guidance of a kind and noble spirit, for the salvation of +this, his not forgotten, though long tried creature. + +Captain Durbin, of the barque Good Intent, was one who combined, in no +usual degree, the qualities of boldness and energy with the kindest, the +tenderest, and most generous feelings. These were wrought into beautiful +harmony, by the Christian principles which had long governed his life, +and from which he had learned to be, at the same time, "diligent in +business" and "kindly affectioned"--to have no _fear_ of man, and to +love his brother, whom he had seen, as the best manifestation of +devotion to God, whom he had not seen. Perhaps he had escaped the usual +effect of his rough trade, in hardening the manners, at least, by the +influence on him of his only child, a little girl, now six years old, +who was his constant companion, even in his voyages. Little Emily Durbin +had lost her mother when she was only two years old. The circumstances +of her own childhood had wrought into the mind of the dying Mrs. Durbin, +the conviction that only a parent is a fitting guardian for a child. To +all argument on this subject she would reply, "It seems to me that God +has put so much love into a parent's heart, only that he may bear with +all a child's waywardness, which other people can't be expected to bear +with." + +True to her principles, she had exacted a promise from her husband, in +her dying hour, that he would never part from their Emily. The promise +had been sacredly kept. + +"I will retire from sea as soon as I have enough to buy a place on +shore, for Emily's sake; but till then, her home must be in my cabin. +She is under God's care there, as well as on shore, and perhaps it would +be better for her, should I be lost at sea, to share my fate." Such were +the remarks of Captain Durbin, in reply to the well-meant remonstrances +of his friends. + +Emily had a little hammock slung beside his own--the books in which he +taught her made a large part of his library; and he who had seen her +kneel beside her father to lisp her childish prayer, or who had heard +the simple, beautiful faith with which she commended herself to the care +of her Father in Heaven, when the waves roared and the winds howled +around her floating home, would have felt, perhaps, that the most +important end of life, the cultivation of those affections that connect +us with God and with our fellow-creatures, might be attained as +perfectly there as elsewhere. + +The astonishment of Captain Durbin and the pity of his gentle child may +be conceived, at the sight of the poor boy, who was brought up from the +boat by his captor and owner, as he considered himself, and laid at +their feet, while they sat together in their cabin--he writing in his +log-book, and she conning her evening lesson. To the proposition that he +should give the prize so strangely obtained a free passage, and share in +the advantages to be gained by its exhibition in America, Captain Durbin +replied by showing the disappointed seaman the impossibility of the +object of these speculations being some product of Nature's freaks--some +hitherto unknown animal, with the form, but without the faculties of +man. + +"Do you not see that he has clothes----" + +"Clothes do ye call them!" interrupted the blunt sailor, touching the +pieces of cloth that hung around, but no longer covered the thin limbs. + +"Rags, perhaps I had better say--but the rags have been clothes, woven +and sewn by man's hands--so he must have lived among men--civilized +men--and he has grown but little, as you may perceive, since those +clothes were made--therefore, he cannot have been long on the island." + +"But how did he get there? Who'd leave a baby like this there by +himself?" + +"That we may never know, for the boy must either be an idiot--which he +does not look like, however--or insane, or dumb--but let that be as it +will, we will do our duty by him, and I thank God for having sent us +here in time to save him." + +The master of the ship usually gives the tone to those whom he commands, +and Captain Durbin found no difficulty in obtaining the help of his men +in his kind intentions to the boy so strangely brought amongst them. By +kind, yet rough hands, he was washed, his hair was cut and combed, and a +suit of clean, though coarse garments, hastily fitted to him by the best +tailor among them--fitted, not with the precision of Stultz certainly, +but sufficiently well to enable him to walk in them without danger of +walking on them or of leaving them behind. But he showed no intention of +availing himself of these capabilities. Wherever they carried him he +went without resistance--wherever they placed him he remained--he ate +the food that was offered him--but no word escaped his lips, no +voluntary movement was made by him, no look marked his consciousness of +aught that passed before him. He had again assumed his only shield from +violence--cunning. He could account in no way for his being left +unmolested, except from the belief, freely expressed before him, that +nature, by depriving him of intelligence, or of speech, had unfitted him +for labor, and he resolved to do nothing that should unsettle that +belief. But he found it more difficult than he had supposed it would be +to preserve this resolution, for he was subjected to the action of a +more potent influence than any he had yet encountered--kindness. All +were ready to show him this in its common forms, but none so touchingly +or so tenderly as the little Emily Durbin. It was a beautiful sight to +see that gentle child, with eyes blue as the heavens, whose pure and +lovely spirit they seemed to mirror, gazing up at the dark boy as though +she hoped to catch some ray of the awakening spirit flitting over the +handsome but stolid features. Sometimes she would sit beside him, take +his hand in hers, or stroke gently the dark locks that began again to +hang in neglected curls around his face, and speak to him in the +tenderest accents, saying, "I love you very much, pretty boy, and my +father loves you too, and we all love you--don't you love us?--but you +can't tell me--I forgot that--never mind, I'll ask our Heavenly Father +to make you talk. Don't you know Jesus made the dumb to speak when he +was here on earth? Did you ever hear about it? Poor boy! you can't +answer me--but I'll tell you all about it:" and then in her sweet words +and pitying voice she would tell of the Saviour of men--how he had made +the deaf to hear and the dumb to speak, and she would repeat his lessons +of love, dwelling often on her favorite text, "This is my commandment, +that ye love one another--even as I have loved you, that ye also love +one another." + +Thus by this babe, God was in his love leading the chilled heart of that +poor, desolate boy, back to himself--to hope--to heaven. It was +impossible that the dew of mercy should thus, day by day and hour by +hour, distil upon a spirit indurated by man's cruelties, without +softening it. Edward Hallett began to love that sweet child, to listen +to her step and voice, to gaze upon her fair face, to return her loving +looks, and to long to tell her all his story. Emily became aware of the +new expression in his face, and redoubled her manifestations of +interest. She entreated that he should be brought in when her father +read the Bible and prayed with her, night and morning. "Who knows, it +may be that our Heavenly Father will make him hear us," was her simple +and pathetic response to Captain Durbin's assurance that it was useless, +as he either could not or would not understand them. Never had Edward +Hallett's resolution been more severely tried than when he saw her +kneel, with clasped hands and uplifted face, at her father's knee, and +heard her pray in her own simple words that "God would bless the poor +little dumb boy whom he had sent to them, and that he would make him +speak, and give him a good heart, that he might love them." Captain +Durbin turned his eyes upon the object of her prayer at that moment, and +he almost thought that his lips moved, and was quite certain that his +eyes glistened with emotion. From this time he was as anxious as Emily +herself for the attendance of the strange boy at their devotions. + +For many weeks the ship had sped across that southern sea with light and +favoring breezes, but at length there came a storm. The heavens were +black with clouds--the wind swept furiously over the ocean, and drove +its wild waves in tremendous masses against the reeling ship. Captain +Durbin was a bold sailor, as we have said, and he had weathered many a +storm in his trim barque; but Emily knew by the way in which he pressed +her to his heart this night, before he laid her, not in her hammock, but +on the narrow floor of his state-room, and by the tone in which he +ejaculated, "God bless you, and take care of you, my beloved +child!"--that there was more danger tonight than they had ever before +encountered together; and as he was leaving her she drew him back and +said, "Father, I can't sleep, and I should like to talk to the little +dumb boy; won't you bring him here, and let him sit on my mattress with +me?" + +Captain Durbin brought Edward Hallett and placed him beside Emily, +where, by bracing themselves against the wall of the state-room, they +might prevent their being dashed about by the rolling of the vessel. +Emily welcomed him with an affectionate smile, and taking his hand, +which now sometimes answered the clasp of hers, told him that he must +not be afraid, though there was a great storm, for their Father in +Heaven could deliver them out of it if it were His will, and if it were +not, He would take them to himself, if they loved Him, and loved one +another as the blessed Saviour had commanded them. "And you know we must +die some way," continued the sweet young preacher, "and father says it +is just as easy to go to Heaven from the sea as from any other place." +She paused a moment, and then added in a low tone, "But I think I had +rather die on shore, and be buried by my mother in the green, shady +church-yard--it is so quiet there." + +Emily crept nearer and nearer to her young companion as she spoke, with +that clinging to human love and care which is felt by the hardest breast +in moments of dread. His heart was beating high with the tenderest and +the happiest emotions he had ever known, when a wave sweeping over the +deck of the ship, and breaking through the skylight, came tumbling in +upon them. It forced them asunder, and the falling of their lantern at +the same moment left them in darkness amidst the tossing of the ship, +the rolling of the furniture, and the noise of the many waters. Edward +Hallett's first thought was for Emily;--he felt for her on every side, +but she was not in the state-room; he groped his way into the cabin, but +he could not find her, and he heard no sound that told of her existence. +In terror for her, self was forgotten--love conquered fear, as it had +already obtained the empire over hate, and he called her--"Emily--dear +Emily!--hear me--answer me, Emily?" + +He listened in vain for the faint voice for which he thirsted. Suddenly +he bounded up the cabin steps and rushed to the post at which he knew +Captain Durbin was most likely to be found in such a scene, crying as he +went, "Emily! Emily! oh bring a light and look for Emily!" + +The shrill cry of a human heart in agony was heard above the bellowing +of the winds and the rush of the waves, and without waiting for a +question, without heeding even the miracle that the dumb had spoken, +Captain Durbin hastened below, followed by his agitated summoner. As +quickly as his trembling hands permitted, he struck a light and looked +around for his child. She had been dashed against a chest, and lay pale +and seemingly lifeless, with the red blood oozing slowly from a cut in +the temple. Edward Hallett had lifted her before Captain Durbin could +lay aside his light, and as he approached him, looking up with a face +almost as pale as that which lay upon his arm, he exclaimed, "Oh, sir, +surely she is not dead!" + +It was not till Emily had again opened her soft eyes and assured her +father that she was not much hurt, that any notice was taken of the very +unusual fact of Edward Hallett's speaking. + +"Father, how did you know I was hurt?" + +"He whom we have thought a dumb boy called me, and told me he could not +find you," said Captain Durbin, looking earnestly, almost sternly at +Edward, who colored as he felt that eyes he dared not meet were upon +him. But the gentle, loving Emily took his hand, and said, "Did our good +Heavenly Father make you speak?--I am so glad--please speak to me!" + +Edward could not raise his eyes to hers, but covering his face with his +other hand, he fell on his knees, saying to her and Captain Durbin, "I +am afraid it was very wicked, but indeed I couldn't help it. I could +speak all the time, Emily, but I was afraid of being beaten as I used to +be, if I seemed like other people--now if they beat me I must bear +it--better for me to be beaten than to have Emily lie there with no one +to help her." + +"But who is going to beat you? Nobody will beat you--we all love +you--don't we, father?" cried Emily, bending forward and putting her arm +around the neck of her _protege_. + +"We must hear first whether he is worthy of our love, my dear," said +Captain Durbin, as he attempted to withdraw his daughter's arm, and to +make her lie down again--but Edward had seized the little hand and held +it around his neck, while he exclaimed in the most imploring tones, "Oh, +sir I let Emily love me--nobody else except my poor mother ever loved +me. Beat me as much as you please, and I will not say a word, but oh! +pray, sir! don't tell Emily she must not love me." + +"And, father, if he were wicked, you know you told me once that we must +love the wicked and try to do them good, because our Father in Heaven +loved us while we were yet sinners," urged Emily. + +That gentle voice could not be unheeded, and as Captain Durbin kissed +her, he laid his hand kindly on the boy's head, saying in more friendly +tones, "I hope he has not been wicked, but we will hear more about it +to-morrow--I cannot stay longer with you now, and you must lie still +just where I have put you, or you may roll out and get hurt. We shall +have a rough sea most of the night, though, thank God! no danger, for +the wind had shifted and slackened a little before that great wave swept +you away!" + +"May I not stay by Emily, sir, and tell her what made me not speak? I +will not let her sit up again." + +"Oh, yes! do, father, let him stay till you come down again." + +Captain Durbin consented, and when he came down again at midnight from +the deck, the children had both fallen asleep, but their hands were +clasped in each other's, and the flushed cheeks and dewy lashes of both +showed that they had been weeping. The next morning Captain Durbin heard +the story of the orphan boy. Emily Durbin stood beside him while he told +it, and he needed the courage which her presence gave him, for his cowed +spirit could not yet rise to confidence in man. The mingled indignation +and pity with which Captain Durbin heard the simple but touching +narrative of his life--the earnest kindness with which, at the +conclusion, he drew him to his side, and told him that he would be his +father, and Emily his sister, adding, "God gave you to me, and as His +gift I will love you and care for you," first taught him that his friend +Emily was not the one only angel of mercy in our world. As time passed +on, and Captain Durbin kept well the promise of those words, instructing +him with care and guarding him with tenderness as well as with fidelity, +his faith became firm, not only in his fellow-men, but in Him who had +brought such great good for him out of the darkest evil. His long +repressed affections sprang into vigorous growth, his intellect expanded +rapidly in their glow, his eye grew bright, his step elastic, and his +whole air redolent of a joy which none but those who have suffered as he +had done can conceive. In the handsome youth who returned two years +afterwards with Captain Durbin to Boston, and who walked so proudly at +his side, leading Emily by the hand, few could have recognized the wild +boy of that western Island. + +Such was the transformation which the spirit of love, breathing itself +through the lips of a little child, had effected. "Verily, of such" +children "is the kingdom of heaven." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +The entertainment of the evening gave its character to our conversation +on the following morning. It was a conversation too grave for +introduction into a work intended only to aid in the entertainment of +festive hours: it commenced with the English "poor-laws," and ended with +a discussion of the tenure of property in that land, and the wisdom of +our own republican fathers in abolishing entails--a subject affording a +fair opportunity to us Americans, to indulge a little in that +self-glorification which we are accused of loving so well. + +"What a curious book would a 'History of Entails' be!" exclaimed Mr. +Arlington, "how full of the romance of life!" + +"Romance!" ejaculated Annie. + +"Yes, romance; for under this system, the poor man, whose life seemed +doomed to one unbroken struggle with fortune, for the necessaries of +existence, finds himself, by some unexpected casualty, the possessor of +rank, and of what seems to him boundless wealth." + +"Ah, yes!" said I, "but you have given us only the bright side of the +picture. To make room for this stranger, whose only connection with the +house of which he has so unexpectedly become the head is probably that +preserved in genealogical tables, the daughters of the house, or their +children it may be, reared in luxury, must go forth to a life of +comparative privation. I met, some years ago, in one of my visits to the +Far West, a young Englishman, who--but I will read you the story of his +life, as I wrote it out soon after parting with him." + +"Have you a picture of him, Aunt Nancy?" asked Robert Dudley. + +"Yes, Robert," I replied with a smile, "but you must have patience, for +I shall neither show the picture nor tell the story till evening." + +When we were assembled in the evening, Annie, with much ceremony, led me +to the high-backed arm-chair, which she called the Speaker's Chair, and +placed before me the small travelling desk, in which she knew my +manuscripts were kept. I unlocked it, and soon found the scroll of which +I was in search. + +"But the picture, Aunt Nancy--where is the picture?" cried the eager +Robert. + +"Here it is," I cried, as I loosened the ribbon with which the +manuscript was bound together, and produced a small engraving; a fancy +subject, however, rather than an actual portrait, and of no general +interest. The print was eagerly caught by Robert, and handed around the +circle, with exclamations of, "How handsome!" "What an exquisite +picture!" Mr. Arlington looked at it a moment, then, with a smiling +glance at me, handed it, without a word of comment, to Col. Donaldson. + +"The impertinent puppy!" ejaculated the Colonel, "engrossed with his +hawk and his hound, and wearing such an insolent air of self-absorption +in the presence of a lady" (for the artist had introduced a lovely young +maiden in the scene). "Poor girl!" continued the Colonel; "if she were +in any way connected with him, I am not surprised that she should look +so sad and reproachful." + +Mr. Arlington's smiling glance was again turned on me; and I met it with +a hearty laugh. + +"Indeed, Aunt Nancy," said the Colonel, who seemed strangely annoyed at +my laughter, "I think your friend does you little credit, and I can +only hope that he had some of these lordly airs drubbed out of him at +the West." + +As Col. Donaldson spoke he threw down the engraving which he had held, +and pushed his chair from the table. + +"I assure you, sir," I replied, "my friend has as few lordly airs as it +is possible to conceive in one born to such lordly circumstances. It was +not my intention to impose on you that picture as an actual likeness of +him--though had you ever seen him I might easily have done so, as it +really resembles him very much in his personal traits." + +"Well, I am glad he did not sit for this picture," said Col. Donaldson; +"now I can listen to your story with some pleasure." + +"Thank you; you must first take some reflections suggested to me by the +incidents I have here narrated. Of the character of these reflections, +you will form some conception from the title I have given to the tale +into which I have interwoven them. I have called it + + +"LIFE IN AMERICA." + +"Men and Manners in America" was the comprehensive title of a book +issued some fifteen or twenty years ago, by a gentleman from Scotland, +to whom, we fear, Americans have never tendered the grateful +acknowledgments he deserved for his disinterested efforts to teach +them to eat eggs properly, and to give due time to the mastication of +their food. This benevolently instructive work was the precursor of a +host of others on the same topics, and others of a kindred character. +America has been the standard subject for the trial essays of European +tyros in philosophy, political economy, and book-making in general. +Society in America has been presented, it would seem, in all its +aspects--religious, educational, industrial, political, commercial, and +fashionable. Our schools and our prisons, our churches and our theatres, +have been in turn the subject of investigation, of unqualified censure, +and of scarcely less unqualified laudation. + +The subject thus dissected, put together, and dissected again, has +not been able to restrain some wincing and an occasional outcry, +when the scalpel has been held by a more than usually unskilful +hand--demonstrations of sensibility which have occasioned apparently as +much disapprobation as surprise in the anatomists. We flatter ourselves +that there is peculiar fitness in the metaphor just used, for the outer +form only of American life has been touched by these various writers. +Its spirit, that which gives to it its peculiar organization, has evaded +them as completely as the soul of man evades the keenest investigations +of the dissecting room. Even of the seat of the spirit--of the point +whence it sends forth its subtle influences, giving activity and +direction to every member--of the HOMES of America, they have little +real knowledge. The anatomist--the reader will pardon the continuation +of a figure so illustrative of our meaning--the anatomist knows that not +only can he never hope to lay his finger upon the principle of life, but +that ere he can pry into those cells in which its mysterious processes +are evolved, they must have been dismantled of all that could have +guided him to any certain deductions respecting its nature and mode of +action. And seldom is the eye of the stranger, never that of the +professed bookmaker, suffered to rest upon our homes till they have +undergone changes that will as completely baffle his penetration. Nor is +this always designedly. It is from a delicate instinct which shrinks +from subjecting its most sacred and touching emotions to the rude gaze +and ruder comment of the world. + +We have been led to these observations by certain events of which we +have lately become informed, and which we would here record, as +illustrative of some peculiarities of social life in America, and +especially of the new development of character manifested by women under +the influence of these peculiarities. + +The ringing of bells, the firing of cannon, the huzzaing of the +assembling multitude on the announcement in London of the victory of +Waterloo, must have seemed a bitter mockery to many a heart, mad with +the first sharp agony of bereavement. "The few must suffer that the many +may rejoice," say the statesman and the warrior while they plan new +conquests. It may be so, but we have at present to do with the +sufferings of the few. + +On the list of the killed in that battle appeared the name of Horace +Danforth, Captain in the 41st Regiment of Infantry. It was a name of +little note, but there was one to whom it was the synonyme of all that +gave beauty or gladness to life; and ere the bells had ceased to sound, +or the eager crowd to huzza, her heart was still. With her last +quivering sigh had mingled the wail of a new-born infant. + +Thus was Horace Maitland Danforth ushered into life. He had been born at +the house of his maternal uncle, Sir Thomas Maitland, and as his mother +had been wholly dependent on this gentleman, and his father had been a +soldier of fortune, leaving to his son no heritage but his name, he +continued there, as carefully reared and tenderly regarded as though he +had been the heir to Maitland Park and to all its dependencies. Though +Sir Thomas had, for many years after the birth of his nephew intended to +marry, it was an intention never executed, and when Horace attained his +twenty-first birthday, his majority was celebrated as that of his +uncle's heir, and as such he was presented by Sir Thomas Maitland to his +assembled tenantry. Soon after this event, the Baronet obtained for his +nephew a right to the name and arms of Maitland--a measure to which, +knowing little of his father's family, Horace readily consented. Sir +Thomas Maitland died suddenly while yet in the prime of life, and was +succeeded by Sir Horace, then twenty-four years of age. In the +enjoyments of society, of travel, and of those thousand luxuries, mental +and physical, which fortune secures, three years passed rapidly away +with the young, handsome, and accomplished Baronet. + +One of the earliest convictions of Horace Maitland's life had been, that +the refining presence of woman was necessary to the perfection of +Maitland Park, and when Sir Thomas said to him, "Marry, Horace--do not +be an old bachelor like your uncle"--though he answered nothing, he +vowed in the inmost recesses of his heart that it should not be his +fault if he did not obey the injunction. Yet to the world it seemed +wholly his own fault that at twenty-seven he had not given to Maitland +Park a mistress, and even he himself could not attribute his continued +celibacy to the coldness or cruelty of woman; for, in truth, though he +had "knelt at many a shrine," he had "laid his heart on none." If hardly +pressed for his reason, he might have said with Ferdinand,-- + + "For several virtues + Have I liked several women; never any + With so full soul, but some defect in her + Did quarrel with the noblest grace she own'd, + And put it to the foil." + +He who after the death of his uncle continued to urge Sir Horace most on +the subject of matrimony, was the one of all the world who might have +been supposed least desirous to see him enter into its bonds. This was +Edward Maitland, a distant cousin, somewhat younger than himself, to +whom he had been attached from his boyhood, and who had been saved by +his generosity from many of those painful experiences to which a very +narrow income would otherwise have subjected him. It had more than once +been suggested to Edward Maitland, that should his cousin die +unmarried, he might not unreasonably hope to become his heir, as he was +supposed to be uncontrolled by any entail in the disposal of his +property, and had few nearer relations than himself, and none with whom +he maintained such intimate and affectionate intercourse. Nor could +Edward Maitland fail to perceive that his own value in society was in an +inverse ratio to the chances of the Baronet's marrying, as a report of +an actual proposal on the part of the latter had more than once +occasioned a visible declension in the number and warmth of his +invitations. These considerations appeared, however, only to stimulate +the young man's activity in the search of a wife for his cousin. Had he +been employed by a marriage broker with a prospect of a liberal +commission, he could hardly have been more indefatigable. + +"Well, Horace," exclaimed the younger Maitland, as the two sat loitering +over a late London breakfast one morning, "how did you like the lady to +whom I introduced you last evening?" + +A smile lighted the eyes of Sir Horace as he replied, "Very much, +Ned--she is certainly intelligent, and has read and thought more than +most ladies of her age." + +"She will make a capital manager, I am sure." + +"And an agreeable companion," added Sir Horace. + +"And a good wife--do you not think so, Horace?" + +"She doubtless would be to one who could fancy her, Ned; for me her +style is a little too _prononce_." + +"Well, really, Horace, I cannot imagine what you would have. One woman +is too frivolous--another wants refinement--one is too indolent and +exacting--and when you can make no other objection, why her style is a +little too _prononce_"--the last words were given with ludicrous +imitation of his cousin's tone. "If an angel were to descend from heaven +for you, I doubt if you would be suited." + +"So do I," replied Horace, with a gay laugh at his cousin's evident +vexation. + +And thus did he meet all Edward's well-intended efforts. The power of +choice had made him fastidious, and his life of luxury and freedom had +brought him no experiences of the need of another and gentler self as a +consoler. But that lesson was approaching. + +A call from his lawyer for some papers necessary to complete an +arrangement in which he was much interested, had sent Sir Horace to +Maitland Park, in the midst of the London season, to explore the yet +unfathomed recesses of an old _escritoire_ of Sir Thomas. He had been +gone but two days when Edward received the following note from him, +written, as it seemed, both in haste and agitation:-- + + +"Come to me immediately on the receipt of this, dear Edward. I have +found here a paper of the utmost importance to you as well as to me. +Come quickly--take the chariot and travel post. + +"Yours, H. D. MAITLAND." + + +In less than an hour after the reception of this note Edward Maitland +was on the road: and travelling with the utmost expedition, he arrived +at Maitland Park just as the day was fading into dusky eve. + +"How is Sir Horace?" he asked of the man who admitted him. + +"I do not think he seems very well, sir. You will find him in the +library, Mr. Edward--shall I announce you, sir?" + +"No;" and with hurried steps and anxious heart Edward Maitland trod the +well-known passages leading to the library. + +When he entered that room, Sir Horace was standing at one of its windows +gazing upon the landscape without, and so absorbed was he that he did +not move at the opening of the door. Edward spoke, and starting, he +turned towards him a face haggard with some yet untold suffering. He +advanced to meet his cousin, and with an almost convulsive grasp of the +hand, said, "I am glad you have come, Edward,"--then, without heeding +the anxious inquiries addressed to him by Edward, he rang the bell, and +ordered lights in a tone which caused them to be brought without a +moment's delay. As soon as the servant who had brought them had left the +room, Horace resumed: "Now, Edward, here is the paper of which I wrote +to you; read it at once." + +Agitated by his cousin's manner, Edward took the old stained paper from +him without a word, and seating himself near the lights, began to read, +while Sir Horace stood just opposite him, eyeing him intently. In a very +few minutes Edward looked up with a puzzled air and said, "I do not +understand one word of it. What does it all mean, Horace?" + +"It means that you are Sir Edward Maitland--that you are master +here--and that I am a beggar." + +"Horace, you are mad!" exclaimed the young man, starting from his chair, +with quivering limbs and a face from which every trace of color had +departed. + +Hitherto the tone in which Sir Horace had spoken, the alternate flush +and pallor on his face, and the shiver that occasionally passed over his +frame, had shown him to be fearfully excited; but as Edward became +agitated, all these signs of emotion passed away, and with wonderful +calmness taking the paper in his hand, he commenced reading that part of +it which explained its purpose. This was to secure the descent of the +baronetcy of Maitland and the property attached to it in the male line. +Having made Edward Maitland comprehend this purpose, Sir Horace drew +towards him a genealogical table of their family, and showed him that he +was himself the only living descendant in a direct line through an +unbroken succession of males from the period at which this entail was +made. + +"And now, Edward," he said in conclusion, "I am prepared to give up +every thing to you. That you have so long been defrauded of your rights +has been through ignorance on my part, and equal ignorance, I am +convinced, on the part of my uncle. You know he paid little attention to +business, leaving it wholly to his agents. I have often heard him +express a wish to examine the papers in the old _escritoire_ in which I +found this deed, saying that they had been sent home by old Harris when +he gave up his business to his nephew--the old man writing to my uncle, +that as they consisted of leases that had fallen in, or of antiquated +deeds, they were no longer of any value except as family records. It was +a just Providence that led me to that _escritoire_, to search for the +missing title-deeds of the farm I was about to sell." + +Edward Maitland had sunk into his chair from sheer inability to stand, +and for several minutes after his cousin had ceased speaking, he still +sat, with his elbows resting on the table before him, and his face +buried in his clasped hands. At length looking up, he said, "Horace, let +us burn this paper and forget it." + +"Forget! that is impossible, Edward." + +"Why?--why not live as we have done? You speak of defrauding me, but +what have I wanted that you had? Has not your purse been as my own? Your +home--has it not been mine? It shall be so still. We shall share the +fortune, and as to the title, you will wear it more gracefully than I." + +"Dear Edward! Such proof of your generous affection ought to console me +for all changes, and it shall. I will confess to you that I have +suffered, but it is past. My people----" his voice faltered, his chest +heaved, and turning away he walked more than once across the room before +he resumed--"they are mine no longer--but you will be kind to them, +Edward, I know." + +"Horace, you will drive me mad!" cried Edward Maitland. "Promise, I +conjure you, promise me to say nothing more of this." + +He threw himself as he spoke into his cousin's arms with an agitation +which Horace vainly sought to soothe, until he promised "to _speak_" no +further on this subject at present to any one. Satisfied with this +promise, and exhausted by the emotions of the last hour, Edward soon +retired to his own room. It was long before he slept, and had he not +been in a distant part of the house, he would have heard the hurried +steps with which, for many an hour after he was left alone, Sir Horace +Maitland continued to pace the floor of the dimly lighted library. The +clock was on the stroke of three when he seated himself and began the +following letter: + + +DEAR EDWARD:--I must go, and at once. I cannot without the loss of +self-respect continue to play the master here another day, neither can I +live as a dependent within these walls--no, not for an hour. Do not +attempt to follow me, for I will not see you. I will write to you as +soon as I arrive at my point of destination--I know not yet where that +will be. Feel no anxiety about me. I shall take with me a thousand +pounds, and will leave an order for Decker to receive from you and hold +subject to my draft whatever sum may accrue from the sale, at a fair +valuation, of Sir Thomas Maitland's personal property, which he had an +undoubted right to will as he pleased, the amount of the mesne rents +expended by me during the last three years having been deducted +therefrom. Do not attempt to force favors upon me, Edward--I cannot bear +them now. Such attempts would only compel me to cut myself loose from +you and your affection--the one blessing that earth still holds for me. + +My trunks have been packed two days, for my first resolve was to go +from this place and from England. I shall take the chariot in which you +came down and fresh horses, but I will send them back to you from +London. + +God bless you, Edward. I dare not speak of my feelings to you now, lest +I should lose the strength and self-command I need so much. God bless +you. + +H. D. MAITLAND. + + +Stealthily did Sir Horace move through the wide halls and ascend the +lofty stairs of this home of his life, feeling at every step the rushing +tide of memory conflicting with the sad thought that he was treading +them for the last time. Having reached his sleeping apartments, he rang +a bell which he knew would summon his own man. Rapidly as the man moved, +the time seemed long to him ere the summons was obeyed, and he had given +the necessary orders to have the carriage prepared and the trunks +brought down as soon as possible, "and as quietly," he added, "as he did +not wish to disturb Mr. Edward, who had retired to bed late." + +"Will you not take breakfast, sir, before you set out?" asked the man. + +"No, John. Let the carriage follow me. I shall walk on. Be quick, and +make no noise." + +A faint streak of light was just beginning to appear in the east, when +the heretofore master of that lordly mansion went out into a world which +held for him no other home. ACCIDENT, as short-sighted mortals name +events controlled by no human will, decided whither he should direct his +course from London. He had called at his lawyer's--the already mentioned +"nephew of old Harris"--determined to communicate his discovery to him, +perhaps with some faint hope of learning that the entail had been in +some way set aside, before Sir Thomas had ventured to make his sister's +son his heir. Mr. Decker was not in his rooms, and sitting down to wait +for him he took up mechanically the morning paper that lay on his table. +The first thing on which his eye rested was the advertisement of a steam +packet about to sail from Liverpool for America. + +"America; the very place for me. I shall meet no acquaintances there," +was the thought which flashed through his mind. Another glance at the +paper of the day and hour of the packet's sailing, an examination of his +watch, an impatient look from the window up and down the street, and +again he mused, "I have not a moment to spare, and if I wait for Decker +I may be kept for hours, and so lose the packet; and why should I wait? +Have I not seen the deed? This indecision is folly." + +The result of these reflections was a note rapidly written to Mr. +Decker, stating his discovery of the deed of entail, his consequent +surrender of all claim to the property to Edward Maitland, and his +determination to quit England immediately. All arrangements respecting +the settlement of his claims on the estate, and the claims of the +present proprietor upon him, he left to Sir Edward and Mr. Decker, +empowering the latter to receive and retain for his use and subject to +his order, whatever, on such a settlement, should appertain to him. + +This note was left on Mr. Decker's table, and in one hour after leaving +his office Horace Maitland was advancing to Liverpool with the rapidity +of steam. The packet waited but the arrival of the train in which he was +a passenger, to leave the shores of England. With what bitterness he +watched those receding shores, while memory wrote upon his bare and +bleeding heart the record of joys identified with them, and fading like +them for ever from his life, let each imagine for himself, for to such +emotions no language can do justice. + +A voyage across the Atlantic is now too common an event to stay, even +for a moment, the pen of a narrator. From Boston, Horace--no longer Sir +Horace--wrote to his cousin as follows-- + + +DEAR EDWARD--Here I am among the republicans, with whom I may flatter +myself I have lost nothing by sinking Sir Horace Maitland into plain Mr. +Danforth. Such is now my address, assumed not from fear that in this +distant quarter of the world I shall meet any to whom the name of +Maitland is familiar but because much of which I do not desire to be +reminded is associated with that came. I said to you when leaving my +home, dear Edward, "Do not fear for me." I can now repeat this with +better reason. The first stunning shock of the change to which I was so +suddenly subjected has been borne. My past life already seems to me as a +dream from which I have been rudely but effectually awakened. I am now +first to begin life in reality. + +The accident which determined me to seek these shores was a happy one. I +cannot well dream here where all around me is active, vigorous life. We +are accustomed in England to think of the American shores as the Ultima +Thule in a western direction, but when we reach these shores we find +that the movement is still west. The daily papers are filled with +accounts of persons migrating west, and thither am I going. "The world +is all before me where to choose" the theatre of my new life--my life of +work---and I would have it far from the blue sea, out of hearing of the +murmur of the waves that lave my island home. I will go where the wide +prairies sweep away on every side of the horizon--where every link with +other lands will be severed, and America below and Heaven above +constitute my universe. "You will find no society at the West," has been +said to me. This is another attraction to that region. I would work out +my destiny in solitude. I desire to travel without company, and have +made my arrangements accordingly. I have purchased three substantial +horses for a little more than one hundred pounds, and have engaged a +shrewd, active lad as groom, valet, and he seems to think, companion, +at about two pounds per month. A very light carriage, sometimes driven +by my servant and sometimes by myself, will transport the moderate +wardrobe which I shall deem it necessary to take with me to the +outermost verge of civilization and good roads, where leaving carriage +and wardrobe, or at least all of the latter which may not be borne by a +led-horse, I shall penetrate still further into the old forests of this +New World. I long to be alone with "Nature's full, free +heart"--perchance, there, my own may beat as of yore. + +Farewell, dear Edward. You may hear of me next among the Sacs and +Foxes;--at present address H. Danforth, care of G---- & D----, +Merchants, ---- ---- street, Boston. + +Yours ever, H. DANFORTH. + + +A new external life had indeed opened upon this child of luxury and +conventional refinement. He whose movements had been chronicled as +matter of interest to the public, for whose presence the "world" had +postponed its fetes, might now travel hundreds of miles without +observation or inquiry. He upon whose steps had waited a crowd of +obsequious attendants, now found himself with one follower, whose tone +of independence hardly permitted him to call him servant. In cities, +where he would still have been surrounded by those conventional +distinctions of which he had himself been deprived, the sense of a great +loss would have been ever present with him, and the contrast with the +past would have made the fairest present to which he could now attain, +desolate. But there could be no comparison, and therefore no painful +contrast, between the wild life of the prairies and the +ultra-civilization of English aristocratic society. In the excitement +and adventure of the one, he hoped to forget the other. He sought to +forget--not to be resigned, to acquiesce. His inner life was unchanged. +He had been a dreamer--a pleasure-seeker--and a dreamer and +pleasure-seeker he continued, though the dreams and the pleasures must +be wrought from new materials. To sketch the progress of such a +character through the shifting scenes of his new existence--to observe +him in his association with the strong, daring, acute, but uncultivated +denizens of our frontier States--to stand with sympathizing heart beside +him as he first entered upon those unpeopled solitudes in whose silence +God speaks to the soul, is not permitted us at present. This may be the +work of another day; but now we must pass at once with him from Boston +to a scene within the confines of Iowa. His carriage had been left +behind, and for two days he had been riding over a rolling country, +whose grassy knolls, dotted here and there with clumps of trees, brought +occasionally to his mind the park scenery of his own land. Early in this +day he had passed a farm with a comfortable house and substantial +out-buildings, but no dwelling of man had since presented itself to him, +though the sun was now low in the western sky. Under ordinary +circumstances this would have been of little consequence, for he had +already spent more than one night in the open air without discomfort; +but his attendant had heard a distant muttering of thunder, and John +Stacy was not the lad to encounter without murmuring a night of storm +unsheltered. John's anxiety made him keen-sighted, and he was the first +to perceive and announce the approach of a rider. We use the neutral +term _rider_ not without consideration, for he was one in whom a certain +ease of manner, and even an air of command, contradicted the testimony +of habiliments made and worn after a fashion recognized nowhere as +characteristic of the _genus_ gentleman. A courteous inquiry from Horace +Danforth respecting the nearest place at which a night's shelter might +be obtained, led to a cordial invitation to him to return with him to +his own house. It was an invitation not to be disregarded under existing +circumstances, and it was accepted with evident pleasure both by master +and man. + +Mr. Grahame, for so the new-comer had announced himself, led the way +back for a short distance over the route just pursued by our travellers, +and then striking off to the left, rode briskly forward for several +miles. The light gray clouds which had long been gathering in the +western sky had deepened into blackness as they proceeded, and flashes +of lightning were darting across their path, and large drops of rain +were falling upon them when they neared a house constructed of logs, yet +bearing some evidence of taste in the grounds around it, as well as in +its position, which was on the side of a gently sloping hill, looking +out upon a landscape through which wound a clear and rapid, though +narrow stream. + +"Like good cavaliers, we will see our horses housed first," said Mr. +Grahame, riding past the main building to one of the out-houses, built +also of logs, which served as a stable. Here Horace Danforth +relinquished his tired steed to the care of John Stacy, and Mr. Grahame +having himself rubbed down his own beautiful animal, and thrown a bundle +of hay before him, with a slight apology to his visitor for the +detention, led the way into the house. As they entered the vacant parlor +a shade of something like dissatisfaction passed over the master's +countenance, and having seen his guest seated by a huge fireplace, whose +cheerful blaze of wood a chilly evening made by no means unwelcome, he +left him alone. He soon returned, however, with a brighter expression, +which was explained by his saying, "I feared, on finding this room +empty, that my daughter had been sent for to a sick woman with whom she +has lately spent several days and nights, and that I could offer you +only the discomforts of a bachelor's establishment; but I find she is at +home, and will soon give us supper." + +During the absence of his host, our Englishman had looked around with +increasing surprise at the contents of the parlor. The furniture was of +the most simple description, yet marked by a certain neatness and +gracefulness of arrangement, indicative, as he could not but think, of a +cultivated taste. The same mingling of even rude simplicity of material +and tasteful arrangement prevailed in the chamber to which his host now +conducted him, and where the luxury, for such he had learned to regard +it, of abundance of clear water and clean napkins awaited him. In a few +minutes after his return to the parlor a door was opened, through which +he obtained a view of an inner apartment, well lighted, and containing a +table so spread as to present no slight temptation to a traveller who +had not broken his fast since the morning meal. At the head of this +table stood a young woman of graceful form, whom his host introduced to +him as his daughter, Miss Grahame. + +Mary Grahame's clear complexion, glowing with the hue of health, her +large and soft and dark gray eyes, her abundant glossy black hair, might +have won from the most fastidious some of that admiration given to +personal beauty; but in truth Horace Danforth had grown indifferent as +well as fastidious, and it was not until in after days he had seen the +complexion glow and the dark eyes kindle with feeling, that he said to +himself, "She is beautiful!" To the fascination of a peculiarly +graceful, gentle, yet earnest manner, he was, however, more quickly +susceptible. During this first evening, the chief emotion excited in his +mind was surprise at the style of conversation and manner, the +acquaintance with books and with _les bien-seances_ which marked these +inhabitants of a log cabin in the western wilds--these denizens of a +half-savage life. + +A day of hard riding had induced such fatigue, that even the rare and +unexpected pleasure of communication with refined and cultivated minds, +could not keep Horace Danforth long from his pillow. As he expected to +set out in the morning very early, he would have made his adieus in +parting for the night, mingling with them courteous expressions of the +enjoyment which such society had afforded him after his long abstinence +from all intellectual converse. + +"Believe me," said Mr. Graham, and the sentiment was corroborated by his +daughter's eyes, "the pleasure has been mutual. Society is the great +want of our western life. I have been wishing to ask whether your +business were too urgent to permit you to afford us more of this coveted +good?" + +"I am ashamed to confess," said Horace Danforth, with some +embarrassment, "that I have no business at present--that I am an +idler--I verily believe the only one in your country." + +"Then will you not give us the pleasure of your company for a longer +time? A little rest will be no disadvantage either to your horses or +yourself, and on us you will be conferring a favor which you cannot +appreciate till you have lived five hundred miles away from +civilization." + +The invitation was accepted as cordially as it was given, to the great +satisfaction of John Stacy, who had been much pleased with the +appearance of land in this neighborhood, and wanted time to look about +him preparatory to purchasing. + +Horace Danforth awoke early next morning, and throwing open the shutters +of the only window in his room, found that a stormy night had been +succeeded by an unusually brilliant morning. "To brush the dews from off +the upland lawn" had not been a habit of his past life; but the cool +fresh air, the spicy perfumes which it wafted to him, and the brightness +and verdure of the whole landscape, proved now more inviting than his +pillow; and dressing himself hastily, he descended the clean but rude +and uncarpeted stairs as gently as possible, lest he should arouse Miss +Grahame from her slumbers. He found the front door open, showing that he +was not the first of the household to go abroad that day. As he stepped +out upon the lawn, he discovered that the parlor windows were also +open, and a familiar air, hummed in low, suppressed tones, caused him +to look through them as he passed. Could he believe his eyes? Was that +neatest and prettiest of all housemaids, who, moving with light and even +graceful steps, was yet busied in the very homely task of dusting and +arranging the furniture in the parlor--was she indeed the same Miss +Grahame who had last evening charmed him by her lady-like deportment and +intelligent conversation? Yes, the very same; for though the glossy +black braids were covered by a gay colored handkerchief wound around her +head _a la Turque_, there was the same wide forehead and well-defined +brows; the same soft dark gray eyes; the same slightly aquiline nose and +smiling mouth. Nor was the conversation of last evening more opposed, in +his imagination, to her present employment, than the evident taste and +feeling with which she was now singing that most beautiful hymn of the +Irish poet:-- + + "O God! Thou art the life and light + Of all this wondrous world I see." + +Listening and gazing, wondering and comparing, he had well nigh +forgotten himself, when the lady of the mansion turning suddenly to the +window, raised her head. Their eyes met! The color which rushed quickly +to her very temples, recalled him to himself, and bowing with certainly +not less embarrassment than she evinced, he walked rapidly on. He had +not proceeded far, however, when he saw his host approaching from an +opposite direction. As Mr. Grahame had already spent more than an hour +in his fields, sharing as well as directing the labors of his men, he +expressed no surprise at meeting his guest abroad. After a cordial +greeting, and a few general observations on the weather and scenery had +been exchanged, Mr. Grahame, glancing up at the sun, which had now risen +considerably above a distant wood, said, "I am sorry to interrupt your +walk, but my morning's work has made me by no means indifferent to my +breakfast, and I think that Mary's coffee and biscuits are about this +time done to a turn." + +A few minutes brought them back to the house, and into the parlor from +which Mary Grahame had disappeared, leaving behind her, in its neat and +tasteful arrangement, and in the fresh flowers that adorned the table +and mantelpiece, evidence of her early presence. The gentlemen were soon +summoned to breakfast. + +It may have been that his early rising had given to Horace Danforth an +unusual appetite; but certain it is that no breakfast of which he had +ever partaken seemed to him half so inviting as this. And yet, in truth, +it was simple enough; toast, crisp and brown, warm, light biscuits, +fresh eggs, good butter, excellent coffee, and rich cream were all it +offered. Mary Grahame presided, and speaking little herself, listened to +her father and Horace, while they discussed the different +characteristics of English or European and American society, with a +pleased and intelligent countenance. Some observations from him drew +from Mr. Grahame the following reply:-- + +"There is one feature of American society upon which I think no +foreigner has remarked, or if he have, it has been so cursorily as +plainly to show that he was far from appreciating its importance: I mean +the fact that here the thinker is also the worker. In England and the +European States, the working class is distinct from the consumers, and +there must be almost as great a contrast in the intellectual as in the +physical condition of the two. All the refinement, the cultivation, must +remain with those who have leisure and fortune--as a class, I mean, for +individuals will of course be found, who, in spite of all disadvantages, +will rise to the highest position. But here, in America, there are no +idlers. Here, with few if any exceptions, all must be, in some way, +workers, and all may be thinkers. We attain thus to a republic of +mind." + +"Do you not fear that the result of this will be to check the +development of individual greatness; that as you have no king in the +State, so you will have no king in literature?" + +"Even were this so, it would remain a question whether the great +increase of general intelligence would not more than compensate the +evil." + +"Can many Polloks repay us for one Milton--many Drydens for one +Shakspeare?" + +"You take extreme cases; besides, I only admitted your supposition to +show that I could produce a set-off to the disadvantage. I do not +believe that the necessity for labor of some sort will prevent a truly +great mind from achieving for itself the highest distinction. I think +the history of such minds proves that it will rather serve as a stimulus +to their powers." + +Horace Danforth was silent, and after a moment's pause, Mr. Grahame +resumed. + +"In this union of the working and the thinking classes, the refinements +of life, those things which adorn, and beautify it, take their true +place as consolers and soothers of the care-worn and toil-wearied mind. +No Italian opera can give such delight to the sated man of pleasure as +the tired laborer feels in listening to the evening song with which some +loved one, in his home, sings him to repose. + +"You speak _con amore_" said Horace Danforth, smiling at his host's +fervor. + +"I do. Had I been excluded from the refinements of social life, I should +long since have fainted and grown weary of my toil here. I felt this +when compelled to relinquish my daughter's society for two years, that +she might have the advantage of instruction in those branches of a +womanly education in which I could give her no aid." + +"And having spent two years in the more cultivated East, did Miss +Grahame return willingly to her home in the wilderness?" + +This question was addressed to Mary Grahame herself, and she answered +simply, "My father was here." + +"You acknowledge, then, that could your father have been with you, you +would have preferred remaining at the East?" + +"Oh no! I was fifteen when my father sent me from home, and they who +have enjoyed the free life of the prairies so long, seldom love +cities." + +"But the ease, the freedom from labor, which is enjoyed in a more +advanced stage of society, the power to devote yourself to pursuits +agreeable to your taste--did you not regret these?" + +"Permit me to put your question into plainer language," interposed Mr. +Grahame. "Mr. Danforth would ask, Mary, whether you would not prefer to +live where you would not be compelled to degrade your mind----" + +"No, no, I protest against the degradation," exclaimed Mr. Danforth. + +"To degrade your mind," pursued Mr. Grahame, answering the interruption +only by a smile, "by exercising it on such homely things as brewing +coffee and baking cakes, or to soil your fair hands with brooms and +dusters." + +"For the soil of the hands we have sparkling rills, and for the +degradation of the mind, I, like Mr. Danforth, protest against it." + +"But how can you make your protest good?" + +"You have taught me that there is no degradation in labor, pursued for +fair and right ends, and that where the end is noble, the labor becomes +ennobling." + +"But what noble ends can be alleged for the drudgery of domestic life? I +am translating your looks into language," said Mr. Grahame, turning +playfully to his guest; "correct me if I do not read them rightly." + +"If I say you do, I fear Miss Grahame will think them very impertinent +looks." + +"I shall not complain of them while I can reply to them so easily," said +Mary gayly. "He who knows how much a well-ordered household contributes +to the cultivation of domestic virtues and family affections, will not +think a woman degraded who sacrifices somewhat of her tastes and +pleasures to the deeper happiness of procuring such advantages for those +she loves." + +"But is not that state of society preferable, in which, without her +personal interference, by the employment of those who have no higher +tastes, she may accomplish the same object?" + +"That question proves that you do not, like my father, desire to see the +working and the thinking classes united. You seem to propose that the +first shall ever remain our hewers of wood and drawers of water." + +"Is it not a fact that there have been, are, and always will be those in +the world who are fitted for no other position?" + +"That there are and always have been such persons, I acknowledge; but +when labor ceases to be degrading, because it is partaken by all, may we +not hope that new aspirations will be awakened in the laborer--that he +will elevate himself in the scale of being when he feels elevation +possible?" + +Mary Grahame spoke with generous enthusiasm, yet with a modest +gentleness which made Horace Danforth desire to continue the argument. + +"Admitting all this," he said, "it does not answer my question, which +was, whether you did not prefer that state of society in which you were +able to avail yourself of the services of such a class?" + +"There are moments, doubtless, when indolence would plead for such +self-indulgence; but I should be mortified, indeed, where this the +prevailing temper of my mind." + +"Pardon me if I say that I do not see how it can be otherwise--how a +lady of Miss Grahame's refinement and taste can be pleased with the +employments, for instance, to which Mr. Grahame just now referred." + +"Not pleased with them in themselves, but she may accept them, may she +not, as a necessary part of a great object to which she has devoted +herself?" + +"And this object?--but, forgive me. The interest you have awakened in +the subject, and your kindness in answering my questions, make me an +encroacher, I fear," he added, as he marked the heightened color with +which Mary glanced at her father as he paused for her answer. + +"Not at all; but I speak in presence of my master, and will refer you to +him," she replied, with another smiling glance at her father. + +"You see," said Mr. Grahame, "that even in these wilds, 'the world's +dread laugh' retains its power. Mary, I see, is afraid of being called a +female Quixote, and even I find myself disposed to win you to some +interest in my object, before I avow it. This I think I can best do by a +sketch of the circumstances which led to its adoption. I will give you +such a sketch, therefore, if you will promise to acquit me of egotism in +doing so." + +"That I will readily do. I shall be delighted to hear it." + +"You shall have it, but not now; for I see, by certain cabalistic signs, +known only to the initiated, that Mary is about to leave us for some of +those same degrading employments, and if you will take a ride with me, I +will relieve you from all danger of contact with them, and will, at the +same time, show you something of our neighborhood." + +The proposal was of course accepted. The ride embraced a circuit of ten +miles, in which they passed only two houses. The first of these was +built with an apparent regard to convenience and comfort, and even some +effort at adornment, as manifested in the climbing plants with which the +windows were draperied, and the flowers which adorned the little court +in front. Mr. Grahame stopped before the gateway of this court, and a +woman of coarse, rough exterior, though scrupulously clean, came out to +speak to him, and to urge his alighting and entering the house with his +friend. This Mr. Grahame declined; he had stopped only to inquire after +a sick child, and to express a hope that her husband's hay had turned +out well. + +"Dreadful fine," was her reply to the last. "I'm sure we be much +obleeged to you for the seed, and for tellin' Jim how to plant it He +never had sich hay before." + +"I'm glad to hear it. Where is Lucy?" + +"Oh, she's off to school. Tell Miss Mary she's gittin' to be 'most as +grand a reader as she be. And yet the child's willin' enough to work, +for all." + +As the gentlemen rode on, after this interview, Mr. Grahame said, "That +last speech expressed one of the greatest difficulties against which we +had to contend in our efforts to induce our neighbors to give to their +children some of the advantages of education. They were afraid 'larnin' +would make them lazy.' They were of your opinion, that the thinker and +the worker must remain of different classes." + +"I was much surprised to hear that woman speak of a school. I should not +think the teacher could find his situation very profitable." + +"He is one who has regard to a higher reward than any earthly one. He is +a self-denying Christian missionary, whom I induced to settle in our +neighborhood. He preaches on the Sabbath, in a little church about two +miles from my house, to a congregation of about twenty adults, and twice +that number of children; and during the week, he keeps a school which is +well attended in the summer. Some of his earlier pupils are already +showing, by their more useful and more happy lives, the importance of +the schoolmaster's work in the elevation of a people." + +The next dwelling they approached was very small and mean-looking. It +seemed to Horace Danforth to contain only one apartment, warmed by an +ill-constructed clay chimney, and lighted by one small, square window. +That window, however, was not only sashed and glazed, but shaded by a +plain muslin curtain. + +"Here," said Mr. Grahame, "lives one of those pupils of whom I spoke +just now. He has commenced life with nothing but the plot of ground you +see, and having a wife to support, he must work hard, yet already he is +aiming at something more than the supply of merely physical wants; and I +doubt not he will, should he live long enough, become the intelligent +and wealthy father of a well-educated family." + +They were approaching the house as Mr. Grahame spoke. Near it was a +small field, in which a man was hoeing. + +"How is your wife, Martin?" asked Mr. Grahame. + +"Oh, thank you, sir, she is quite smart. She's been getting better ever +since the night Miss Mary sat up with her last. We say she always brings +good luck." + +"And how are your potatoes?" + +"How could they help but be good, sir, with such grand seed as you gave +me? Tell Miss Mary, if you please, sir, that the rose-tree is growing +finely, and that as soon as I can get time to put up the fence, Sally is +to have the flower-garden she talked about." + +"I am glad to hear it, Martin; if you are brisk you may have some +flowers yet before frost. I will bring you some seeds the next time I +come." + +"Do you procure your seeds from the East, or is it the result of your +superior cultivation, that you are able thus to supply your neighbors?" +asked Horace Danforth of Mr. Grahame, as they rode on. + +"The potatoes were from my own field, raised from the seed two years +ago. The grass and flower seeds were from my agent at the East. These +little favors win for my daughter and myself considerable influence over +our neighbors, and thus facilitate our attainment of the object for +which we have pitched our tent in the wilderness, and accepted those +labors which you justly regard as distasteful in themselves." + +The return home of Mr. Grahame and his visitor, their dinner and +afternoon engagements, offer nothing worthy of our notice. It was not +till the labors of the day had been concluded, and the little party were +gathered again before a cheerful fire in the parlor, that the subject of +the morning's conversation was resumed. As Mary entered from the +supper-room, bringing with her a little basket of needle-work, Horace +Danforth asked if he might not now hope to receive the promised sketch. + +"I will give it you with pleasure when I have had my evening song from +Mary," said Mr. Grahame. + +Opening the piano for his young hostess, Horace Danforth stood beside +her as she sang, but he forgot to turn the leaves of the music before +her as he listened once again to a rich and cultivated voice, +accompanied by a fine instrument, touched by a skilful hand. As the +sweet and well-remembered strains fell on his ear, he closed his eyes +and gave the reins to fancy. The loved and lost gathered around him, and +it was with a strange, dream-like feeling that, as the sweet sound +ceased, and Mary arose from the piano, he opened his eyes and looked +upon the rough walls and simple furniture of his present abode. + +"It is now nearly nineteen years," began Mr. Grahame, when his daughter +and guest had resumed their seats near him, "since, crushed in spirit, I +turned from the grave in which I had laid my chief earthly blessing, to +wander 'any where, any where out of that world' which had a few weeks +before been bright and joyous to me, but which I was now ready to +pronounce a desolate waste. The desire to avoid society made me turn +westward, and nearly one hundred miles east of our present residence I +found myself in the midst of a people without churches, without schools, +rude in appearance and in manners. Absorbed in the destruction of my own +selfish happiness, I might have passed from among them without knowing +that disease was adding its pangs to those inflicted by want, ignorance, +and superstition, had not a mother in the agony of parting from her +first-born, looking hither and thither for help, turned her eyes +entreatingly upon the stranger. I had once studied medicine, though +regarding the profession, as our young men too often do, merely as a +means of personal aggrandizement, and having received just at the +completion of my studies an accession of fortune, which removed all +pecuniary necessity to exertion on my part, I had never practised it, +nor indeed obtained the diploma necessary to its practice. Now, however, +I endeavored to make myself master of the peculiar features of the +epidemic under which the child was suffering, and with the aid of a +small store of medicines which my good sister had insisted on my taking +with me, and a rigid enforcement of some of the simplest rules of diet +and regimen, I had the happiness of seeing the child in a few days out +of danger, and of receiving the mother's rapturous thanks. That moment, +gave me the first gleam of happiness I had known for months, and +disposed me to listen to the entreaties of the poor creatures who came +from far and near to entreat the aid of the Doctor, as they persisted in +calling me, notwithstanding my repeated assurances that I had no right +to the title. I spent weeks in that neighborhood, and there I was born +to a new life. Till that time I had lived to myself, and when that in +which I had centered my earthly joy was snatched from me by death, I had +felt that life had nothing left for me; but now I saw that while there +were sentient beings in the universe to serve, and a glorious and ever +blessed Father presiding over that universe and smiling on such service, +life could not be divested of joy. Under the influence of such views my +plans for the future were formed, nor have I ever seen reason to change +or to regret them. Every where the Christian religion teaches the same +precepts, but not every where is it equally easy to see the way in which +those precepts may be obeyed; every where it is true, as a distinguished +writer of your own land has said, 'Blessed is the man who has found his +work--let him seek no other blessedness;' but not every where is it +equally easy to see where our work lies. Here, in America, the +partition-walls which stand elsewhere as a remnant of the old feudalism, +have been broken down; every man is irresistibly pressed into contact +with his neighbors--he cannot shut his eyes to their wants--he cannot +stop his ears against their cries. In America, too, every man, as I have +already said, must be a worker--or, if he live an idler, it must be on +that which his father gained by the sweat of his brow, and he leaves his +children to enslaving toil, or more enslaving dependence. Here the man +of pleasure, the idler of either sex, is a foreign exotic which finds no +nourishment in our soil, no shelter from our institutions--which is out +of harmony with our social life, and must ever be marked by the innate +vulgarity of unsustained pretension. Therefore it is comparatively easy +for us to hold out the hand of love to our brethren, sinking and +suffering at our very side, and to teach them that there is no natural +inalienable connection between labor and coarseness, ignorance and +servility; that man, though compelled to win his bread by the sweat of +his brow, may still enjoy all those graceful amenities of which woman +was the type in Paradise and is the promoter here; that the light of +knowledge and the divine light of faith may still cheer him in his +pursuits and guide him to his rest. It seems to me that to bring out +these principles fairly to the world's perception, is the mission to +which America has been especially appointed--is that for which Americans +should live; and to this I have accordingly devoted myself. For this I +purchased my present property--for this I determined, while allowing +myself and my daughter all the comforts of life, to dispense with many +of those luxuries to which my fortune might have seemed to entitle us, +lest I should separate myself too far from those I would aid. Here I +have spent seventeen years of life, happy in my work, and happier in the +conviction that it has not been in vain." + +As Mr. Grahame paused, Horace Danforth turned to Mary Grahame. Her eyes +were fixed upon him. They seemed to challenge his admiration for her +father, in whose hand her own was clasped, as though she would thus +intimate the perfect accordance of her feelings with his. + +"And this, then," he said to her, "is your object?" + +"It is." + +"An object to which you were devoted by your father in your infancy?" + +"And which I have since adopted on my own intelligent conviction," said +Mary, earnestly, losing all timidity in a glow of that generous +enthusiasm which sits so gracefully on a gentle woman. + +There was silence in the little circle--silence with all; with one, +thought was rapidly passing down the long vista of the past, and +pointing the awakened mind to the fact that elsewhere than in America +was there ignorance to be enlightened and want to be relieved--that not +here only did Christianity teach that man should live not unto himself +alone, and that he should love his neighbor as himself. + +The thoughts and feelings aroused on that evening colored the whole +future destiny of Horace Danforth. Ere another day had passed, he had +confided to his host so much of his history as proved him to be an +aimless and almost unconnected wanderer on the earth, with a prospect +of a fortune which, unequal to the demands of a man of fashion in +England, would give to a _worker_ in America great influence for good or +for evil--as the personal property of Sir Thomas Maitland could not, as +Horace Danforth was well aware, be valued at less than 50,000 dollars. +With that rapid decision which had ever marked his movements, the young +Englishman determined to purchase land in the neighborhood of Mr. +Grahame, there to rear his future hope, and to devote his life to the +like noble purposes. The land was purchased, the site for the house was +selected and marked out--but the house was never built--for ere that had +been accomplished Horace Danforth discovered that the companionship of a +cultivated woman was essential to his views of "Life in America," and +that Mary Grahame was exactly the embodiment of that youthful vision +which he had sought in vain elsewhere; for she united the delicacy and +refined grace, with the intelligent mind, the active affections and +energetic will, which were necessary at once to please his fancy and +satisfy his heart Mary Grahame could not consent to leave her father to +a lonely home, but yet she could not deny that it would be a sad home to +her if deprived of the society of him whose intelligent and varied +converse and manly tenderness had lately formed the chief charm of her +existence. There was only one way of reconciling these conflicting +claims. Horace Danforth must live with Mr. Grahame; and so he did, +having first obtained that gentleman's permission to enlarge his house, +and to furnish it with some of those inventions by which art has so +greatly lightened domestic occupation, and which had been made familiar +to him by his life abroad. + +Six months had been spent in this abode--six months of an existence of +joy and love, untroubled as it could be to those who were yet dwellers +upon earth--six months in which the fastidious and world-wearied man +learned the secret of true peace in a life devoted to useful and +benevolent objects--when a most unexpected visitor arrived in the person +of Sir Edward Maitland--no, not Sir Edward. He came to announce that to +this title he had no right. That he had remained himself, and suffered +his cousin to remain so long in ignorance on this point, had been the +result of no want of effort to arrive at the truth, still less of any +lingering love of the honors forced upon him. He had never assumed the +title, nor suffered the secret of his supposed change of circumstances +to be known beyond himself and the lawyer to whom his cousin Horace had +revealed it. This lawyer, it may be remembered, had lately succeeded in +the care of the Maitland estate to an uncle, who had been compelled by +the infirmities of advancing age to retire from business. The old man +was absent from England when Horace Danforth left it, and it was not +till his return that full satisfaction on the subject had been obtained, +as it was judged unwise by Mr. Decker to awaken public attention by +investigations which his uncle's return would probably render +unnecessary. When he did return, and the subject was cautiously unfolded +to him, he spent many minutes in _pishing_ and _pshawing_ at the folly +and impetuosity of young Baronets, who, knowing nothing of the tenure on +which they hold their estates, cannot at least wait till they consult +wiser people before they throw them away. The entail of nearly two +centuries ago had, it seems, been set aside in little more than one, by +an improvident father and son, who had in fact greatly diminished the +very fine property so entailed, though most of it had been since +recovered by the care of their successors. The intelligence thus +conveyed to him who was now once more Sir Horace Danforth Maitland, was +of mingled sweet and bitter. He could not be insensible to the joy of +returning to the home of his childhood and the people among whom he had +grown to manhood, yet neither could he leave, without tender regrets, +that in which he had first learned to love, and to live a true, a +noble, and a happy life. + +When Mary was first saluted as Lady Maitland by Edward, she turned a +glance of inquiry upon her husband, and then upon her father, for both +were present by previous arrangement; and as she read a confirmation of +the fact in their smiling faces, the color faded from hers, and after a +moment's vain effort to contend against her painful emotion, she burst +into tears. + +"Your father has promised to spend his life with us, dearest," said Sir +Horace Maitland, as he threw his arm around her and drew her to his +side. + +"But this dear home," sobbed Mary; "this people, for whom and with whom +we have lived so happily." + +"All that made this home dear, my daughter, you will take with you to +another home." + +"And there, too," interposed Sir Horace, "my Mary will find a people to +enlighten and to bless, over whom her influence will be unbounded, and +to whom she will prove an angel of consolation." + +"And can you carry your American life to your English home?" she asked +of her husband, smiling through her tears. + +"As much of it as is independent of outward circumstances, Mary--its +spirit, its aims; for they belong to a Christian life, and that I hope, +by God's blessing, to live henceforth, wherever I may be." + +"And what will become of all our projected improvements here?" she +inquired of her father. + +"I shall not leave this place myself, Mary, till I can find some one +like-minded, who will take our place and do our work. To such a man I +will sell the property on such terms as he can afford, or if he cannot +buy, he shall farm it for me." + +This last was the arrangement made with one whom Mr. Grahame had known +in early life, and who had always been distinguished by true Christian +uprightness and benevolence The terms offered by Mr. Grahame to this +gentleman were such, that the conscientious and excellent agent became +in a few years the proprietor and under his fostering care, all those +plans for the intellectual and moral improvement of the neighborhood +which had been so happily commenced, were matured and perfected. + +It was nearly a year after the departure of his children before Mr. +Grahame was able to join them at Maitland Park. With his arrival Mary +felt that her cup of joy was full. It had been with a trembling heart +that she assumed the brilliant position to which Providence had +conducted her; not that she feared the judgment of man: her fear had +been lest in the midst of abundance she should forget the hand that fed +her--lest amidst the fascinations of an intellectual and polished +society, she should forget the thick darkness which covered so many +immortal minds around her. But already she had cast aside this unworthy +fear, unworthy of Him in whom is the Christian's strength. + +The early dream of the Proprietor of Maitland Park is fulfilled. The +softening and refining presence of woman diffuses a new charm over its +social life, and while his Mary is to his tenantry what he himself +predicted, an angel of consolation, she is to him a faithful co-worker +in all that may advance the reign of peace and righteousness, of +intelligence and joy, throughout the world. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +A Sabbath in the country, with a Sabbath quiet in the air, and a +cheerful sunlight beaming like the smile of Heaven on the earth--how +beautiful it is! Donaldson Manor is only a short walk from the church +whose white spire gleams up amidst the dark grove of pines on our left; +at least, it is only a short walk in summer, when we can approach it +through the flowery lanes which separate Col. Donaldson's fields from +those of his next neighbor, Mr. Manly. Now, however, the walk is +impracticable, and all the sleighs were yesterday morning in +requisition, to transport the family and their visitors to their place +of worship. I was a little afraid that the merry music of the +sleigh-bells and the rapid drive through the clear air might make our +young people's blood dance too briskly--that they would be unable to +preserve that sobriety of manner becoming those who are about +professedly to engage in the worship of Him who inhabiteth Eternity. I +was gratified, however, to perceive that they all had good feeling or +good taste enough to preserve, throughout their drive and the services +which followed it, a quiet and reverent demeanor. It may seem strange to +some, that I should characterize this as a possible effect of "good +taste;" but in my opinion, he who does not pay the tribute at least of +outward respect to this holy day, is incapable not only of that high, +spiritual communion which brings man near to his Creator, but of that +tender sympathy which binds him to his fellow-creatures, or even of +that poetic taste which would place his soul in harmony with external +nature. Let it not be thought that I would have this day of blessing to +the world regarded with a cynical severity, or that the quietness and +the reverence of which I speak are at all akin to sadness. Were not +cheerfulness, in my opinion, a part of godliness, I should say of it as +some one has said of cleanliness, that it is next to godliness. Like my +favorite, Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett Browning, + + "I think we are too ready with complaint + In this fair world of God's;" + +and like her, I would utter to all the exhortation, + + "Let us leave the shame and sin + Of taking vainly, in a plaintive mood, + The holy name of Grief!--holy herein, + That, by the grief of One, came all our good." + +But cheerfulness, so far from being incompatible with, seems to me +inseparable from that true worship which is the best source of the +Sabbath seriousness I am advocating. + +The remarks of the preacher were quite in unison with these thoughts, +and pleased me so much that, were it admissible, I should be delighted +to dignify my pages with them. By a few vivid touches, in language +simple, yet beautiful, he sketched for us the first Sabbath amidst the +living springs and fadeless bloom and verdant shades of Paradise, when +sinless man communed with his Maker and his Father, not through the poor +symbols of a ceremonial worship, but face to face, as a man talketh with +his friend. But all I would say of the Sabbath has been said a thousand +times better than I could say it, by good George Herbert, whose words I +am sure I need not apologize for introducing here. + + +SUNDAY. + + O day most calm, most bright! + The fruit of this, the next world's bud; + Th' indorsement of supreme delight, + Writ by a Friend, and with His blood; + The couch of time; care's balm and bay:-- + The week were dark, but for thy light; + Thy torch doth show the way. + + The other days and thou + Make up one man; whose face _thou_ art, + Knocking at heaven with thy brow; + The worky days are the back-part; + The burden of the week lies there, + Making the whole to stoop and bow, + Till thy release appear. + + Man hath straight forward gone + To endless death. But thou dost pull + And turn us round, to look on One, + Whom, if we were not very dull, + We could not choose but look on still; + Since there is no place so alone, + The which He doth not fill. + + Sundays the pillars are + On which heaven's palace arched lies: + The other days fill up the spare + And hollow room with vanities. + They are the fruitful bed and borders, + In God's rich garden; that is bare, + Which parts their ranks and orders. + + The Sundays of man's life, + Threaded together on time's string, + Make bracelets to adorn the wife + Of the eternal, glorious King. + On Sunday, heaven's gate stands ope; + Blessings are plentiful and rife! + More plentiful than hope. + + This day my Saviour rose, + And did inclose this light for His: + That, as each beast his manger knows, + Man might not of his fodder miss. + Christ hath took in this piece of ground, + And made a garden there, for those + Who want herbs for their wound. + + The Rest of our creation, + Our great Redeemer did remove, + With the same shake which, at his passion, + Did th' earth, and all things with it, move. + As Samson bore the doors away, + Christ's hand's, though nailed, wrought our salvation, + And did unhinge that day. + + The brightness of that day + We sullied, by our foul offence; + Wherefore that robe we cast away, + Having a new at His expense, + Whose drops of blood paid the full price + That was required, to make us gay, + And fit for paradise. + + Thou art a day of mirth: + And, where the week-days trail on ground, + Thy flight is higher, as thy birth. + Oh, let me take thee at the bound, + Leaping with thee from seven to seven; + Till that we both, being toss'd from earth, + Fly hand in hand to Heaven! + + +It is the custom at Donaldson Manor to close the Sabbath evening with +sacred music. Annie, at her father's request, played while we all sang +his favorite evening hymn, which I here transcribe. + + +EVENING HYMN. + + Father! by Thy love and power, + Comes again the evening hour; + Light hath vanish'd, labors cease, + Weary creatures rest, in peace. + Those, whose genial dews distil + On the lowliest weed that grows + Father! guard our couch from ill, + Lull thy creatures to repose. + We to Thee ourselves resign, + Let our latest thoughts be Thine. + + Saviour! to thy Father bear + This our feeble evening prayer; + Thou hast seen how oft to-day + We, like sheep, have gone astray; + Worldly thoughts and thoughts of pride, + Wishes to Thy cross untrue, + Secret faults and undescried + Meet Thy spirit-piercing view. + Blessed Saviour! yet, through Thee, + Pray that these may pardon'd be. + + Holy Spirit! Breath of Balm! + Breathe on us in evening's calm. + Yet awhile before we sleep, + We with Thee will vigils keep. + Lead us on our sins to muse, + Give us truest penitence, + Then the love of God infuse, + Kindling humblest confidence. + Melt our spirits, mould our will, + Soften, strengthen, comfort, still. + + Blessed Trinity! be near + Through the hours of darkness drear. + When the help of man is far + Ye more clearly present are. + Father, Son, and Holy Ghost! + Watch o'er our defenceless heads, + Let your angels' guardian host + Keep all evil from our beds, + Till the flood of morning rays + Wake as to a song of praise.[1] + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Mr. Arlington is a gem of the first water. He reveals every day some new +trait of interest or agreeableness. I saw immediately that he was a man +of fine taste; I have since learned to respect him as a man of enlarged +intellect and earnest feeling; and now I am just beginning to discover +that he is master of all those _agremens_ which constitute the charm of +general society, and that he might become the "glass of fashion," if he +had not a mind elevated too far above such a petty ambition. This last +observation has been called forth by mere trifles, yet trifles so +prettily shown, with such ease and grace, as to justify the conclusion. +He is apt at illustration and application, and has a fine memory, stored +brimfull of entertaining anecdotes, snatches of poetry, and those +thousand nothings which tell for so much in society, and which it is so +pleasant to find combined with much else that is valuable. A few +evenings since, he kept Annie and me in the library, with his agreeable +chat, till so late an hour, that Col. Donaldson, who is the least bit of +a martinet in his own family, gave some very intelligible hints to us +the next morning, at breakfast, on the value of early hours. With a +readiness and grace which I never saw surpassed, Mr. Arlington turned to +us with the exquisite apology of the poet for a like fault, + + "I stay'd too late; forgive the crime; + Unheeded flew the hours. + Unnoted falls the foot of time, + Which only treads on flowers." + +This evening again, as he placed a candle-screen before Annie, who, +having a headache, found the light oppressive, he said with a graceful +mixture of play and earnest, impossible to describe, + + "Ah, lady! if that taper's blaze + Requires a screen to blunt its rays, + What screen, not form'd by art divine, + Shall shield us from those orbs of thine? + + "But oh! let nothing intervene + Our hearts and those bright suns between; + 'Tis bliss, like the bewilder'd fly + To flutter round, though sure to die." + +As the others were engaged in very earnest conversation at the time, and +I was reading, he probably expected to be heard only by her to whom he +addressed himself; but a little romance, such as that of Annie and Mr. +Arlington, acted before me, interests me far more than any book, and I +brought a bright blush to Annie's cheek and a conscious smile to his +lip, by asking, "Where did you find those very apposite lines? I do not +remember to have seen them." + +"Probably not, as they have never been published. They were addressed by +Anthony Bleecker, of New-York, to a belle of his day, and the lady for +whose sake, it is whispered, he lived and died a bachelor." + +Our colloquy was here interrupted by Robert Dudley, who wanted to know +if we were to have no story this evening. Robert was a great lover of +stories. "Ask Mr. Arlington, Robert," said I, "I have given three +stories to his one already." + +"Aunt Nancy," said Mr. Arlington, who had already begun to give me the +affectionate cognomen by which I was always addressed at Donaldson +Manor, "Aunt Nancy has stories without number, written and ready for +demand, but my portfolio furnishes only rude pencilings, or at best a +crayon sketch." + +"Will you show them to us, Mr. Arlington?" asked the persevering Robert, +who stood beside him, portfolio in hand. "May I draw one out, as Aunt +Annie did the other evening; and will you tell us about it?" + +Mr. Arlington, with good-humored playfulness, consented, and Robert drew +from the portfolio one of his drawings, representing a fisherman's +family. + +"That man," said I, as I looked at the honest face of the rude, +weather-beaten fisherman, "looks as though he had passed through +adventurous scenes, and might have many a history to tell." + +"He did not tell his histories to me," said Mr. Arlington. "I know +nothing more of them than that paper reveals. It seemed to me that the +woman and child were visiting, for the first time, the ocean, whose +booming sound was to the fisherman as the voice of home. He was probably +introducing them to its wonders--revealing to them the mysteries which +awaken the superstition of the vulgar and the poetry of the cultivated +imagination. He has given her, you may observe, a sea-shell, and she is +listening for the first time to its low, strange music." + +"And is that all?" asked Robert, when Mr. Arlington ceased speaking. + +"All I know, Robert," he answered, with a smile at the boy's +earnestness. + +"But did you never go fishing yourself, Mr. Arlington?" + +"Not often, Robert; I like more active sports better--hunting--" + +"Ah! do tell us about your hunting, Mr. Arlington; you must have had +some adventures in hunting in those great Western forests I have heard +you speak of." + +"The greatest adventure I ever had, Robert," said Mr. Arlington, "was in +an _Eastern_ forest, and when I was the _hunted_, not the _hunter_." + +"Indians, Mr. Arlington--were they Indians that hunted you?" + +"No, Robert; my hunters were wolves." + +"Oh! pray tell us about it, Mr. Arlington, will you not?" + +"Certainly, with the ladies' permission." + +The ladies' permission was soon obtained, and our little party listened +with the deepest interest to the thrilling recital which I have called + + +THE WOLF CHASE.[2] + +During the winter of 1844, being engaged in the northern part of Maine, +I had much leisure to devote to the wild sports of a new country. To +none of these was I more passionately addicted than to skating. The deep +and sequestered lakes of this State, frozen by the intense cold of a +northern winter, present a wide field to the lovers of this pastime. +Often would I bind on my skates, and glide away up the glittering river, +and wind each mazy streamlet that flowed beneath its fetters on towards +the parent ocean, forgetting all the while time and distance in the +luxurious sense of the gliding motion--thinking of nothing in the easy +flight, but rather dreaming, as I looked through the transparent ice at +the long weeds and cresses that nodded in the current beneath, and +seemed wrestling with the waves to let them go; or I would follow on the +track of some fox or otter, and run my skate along the mark he had left +with his dragging tail until the trail would enter the woods. Sometimes +these excursions were made by moonlight, and it was on one of these +occasions that I had a rencontre, which even now, with kind faces around +me, I cannot recall without a nervous looking-over-my-shoulder feeling. + +I had left my friend's house one evening just before dusk, with the +intention of skating a short distance up the noble Kennebec, which +glided directly before the door. The night was beautifully clear. A +peerless moon rode through an occasional fleecy cloud, and stars +twinkled from the sky and from every frost-covered tree in millions. +Your mind would wonder at the light that came glinting from ice, and +snow-wreath, and incrusted branches, as the eye followed for miles the +broad gleam of the Kennebec, that like a jewelled zone swept between the +mighty forests on its banks. And yet all was still. The cold seemed to +have frozen tree, and air, and water, and every living thing that moved. +Even the ringing of my skates on the ice echoed back from the Moccason +Hill with a startling clearness, and the crackle of the ice as I passed +over it in my course seemed to follow the tide of the river with +lightning speed. + +I had gone up the river nearly two miles when, coming to a little stream +which empties into the larger, I turned in to explore its course. Fir +and hemlock of a century's growth met overhead, and formed an archway +radiant with frost-work. All was dark within, but I was young and +fearless, and as I peered into an unbroken forest that reared itself on +the borders of the stream, I laughed with very joyousness: my wild +hurrah rang through the silent woods, and I stood listening to the echo +that reverberated again and again, until all was hushed. I thought how +often the Indian hunter had concealed himself behind these very +trees--how often his arrow had pierced the deer by this very stream, and +his wild halloo had here rung for his victory. And then, turning from +fancy to reality, I watched a couple of white owls, that sat in their +hooded state, with ruffled pantalettes and long ear-tabs, debating in +silent conclave the affairs of their frozen realm, and was wondering if +they, "for all their feathers, were a-cold," when suddenly a sound +arose--it seemed to me to come from beneath the ice; it sounded low and +tremulous at first, until it ended in one wild yell. I was appalled. +Never before had such a noise met my ears. I thought it more than +mortal--so fierce, and amidst such an unbroken solitude, it seemed as +though a fiend had blown a blast from an infernal trumpet. Presently I +heard the twigs on shore snap, as though from the tread of some brute +animal, and the blood rushed back to my forehead with a bound that made +my skin burn, and I felt relieved that I had to contend with things +earthly, and not of spiritual nature--my energies returned, and I looked +around me for some means of escape. The moon shone through the opening +at the mouth of the creek by which I had entered the forest, and +considering this the best channel of escape, I darted towards it like an +arrow. 'Twas scarcely a hundred yards distant, and the swallow could +hardly excel my desperate flight; yet, as I turned my head to the shore, +I could see two dark objects dashing through the underbrush at a pace +nearly double in speed to my own. By this rapidity, and the short yells +which they occasionally gave, I knew at once that these were the much +dreaded gray wolf. + +I had never met with these animals, but from the description given of +them I had very little pleasure in making their acquaintance. Their +untameable fierceness, and the untiring strength which seems part of +their nature, render them objects of dread to every benighted traveller. + + "With their long gallop, which can tire + The deer-hound's haste, the hunter's fire," + +they pursue their prey--never straying from the track of their +victim--and as the wearied hunter thinks he has at last outstripped +them, he finds that they but waited for the evening to seize their prey, +and falls a prize to the tireless pursuers. + +The bushes that skirted the shore flew past with the velocity of +lightning as I dashed on in my flight to pass the narrow opening. The +outlet was nearly gained; one second more and I should be comparatively +safe, when the fierce brutes appeared on the bank directly above me, +which here rose to the height of ten feet. There was no time for +thought, so I bent my head and dashed madly forward. The wolves sprang, +but miscalculating my speed, sprang behind, while their intended prey +glided out upon the river. + +Nature turned me towards home. The light flakes of snow spun from the +iron of my skates, and I was some distance from my pursuers, when their +fierce howl told me I was still their fugitive. I did not look back, I +did not feel afraid, or sorry, or glad; one thought of home, of the +bright faces awaiting my return, of their tears if they never should see +me, and then every energy of body and mind was exerted for escape. I was +perfectly at home on the ice. Many were the days that I had spent on my +good skates, never thinking that at one time they would be my only means +of safety. Every half minute an alternate yelp from my ferocious +followers made me only too certain that they were in close pursuit. +Nearer and nearer they came; I heard their feet pattering on the ice +nearer still, until I could feel their breath and hear their snuffing +scent. Every nerve and muscle in my frame were stretched to the utmost +tension. + +The trees along the shore seemed to dance in the uncertain light, and my +brain turned with my own breathless speed, yet still they seemed to hiss +forth their breath with a sound truly horrible, when an involuntary +motion on my part turned me out of my course. The wolves close behind, +unable to stop, and as unable to turn on the smooth ice, slipped and +fell, still going on far ahead; their tongues were lolling out, their +white tusks glaring from their bloody mouths, their dark, shaggy breasts +were fleeced with foam, and as they passed me their eyes glared, and +they howled with fury. The thought flashed on my mind, that by this +means I could avoid them, viz., by turning aside whenever they came too +near; for they, by the formation of their feet, are unable to run on ice +except on a straight line. + +I immediately acted upon this plan. The wolves, having regained their +feet, sprang directly towards me. The race was renewed for twenty yards +up the stream; they were already close on my back, when I glided round +and dashed directly past my pursuers. A wild yell greeted my evolution, +and the wolves, slipping upon their haunches, sailed onward, presenting +a perfect picture of helplessness and baffled rage. Thus I gained nearly +a hundred yards at each turning. This was repeated two or three times, +every moment the animals getting more excited and baffled. + +At one time, by delaying my turning too long, my sanguinary antagonists +came so near, that they threw the white foam over my dress as they +sprang to seize me, and their teeth clashed together, like the spring of +a fox-trap. Had my skates failed for one instant, had I tripped on a +stick, or caught my foot in a fissure in the ice, the story I am now +telling would never have been told. I thought all the chances over; I +knew where they would first take hold of me if I fell; I thought how +long it would be before I died, and then there would be a search for the +body that would already have its tomb;--for oh! how fast man's mind +traces out all the dread colors of Death's picture, only those who have +been near the grim original can tell. + +But soon I came opposite the house, and my hounds--I knew their deep +voices--roused by the noise, bayed furiously from the kennels. I heard +their chains rattle; how I wished they would break them! and then I +should have protectors that would be peers to the fiercest denizens of +the forest. The wolves, taking the hint conveyed by the dogs, stopped in +their mad career, and after a moment's consideration, turned and fled. I +watched them until their dusky forms disappeared over a neighboring +hill. Then, taking off my skates, wended my way to the house, with +feelings which may be better imagined than described. + +But even yet, I never see a broad sheet of ice in the moonshine, without +thinking of that snuffling breath and those fearful things that followed +me so closely down the frozen Kennebec. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +"What a noble forest!" cried Annie, as she gazed with rapturous +admiration on a noble specimen of the engraver's art--so noble, indeed, +that the absence of color seemed hardly to be felt. It was a +richly-wooded scene, with interesting figures forming a procession in +the centre and foreground of the landscape. The original might have been +painted by Ruysdael. "Those old oaks," she exclaimed, "with their +gnarled and crooked branches, look as though they might have formed part +of the Druidical groves whose solemn mysteries inspired even the +arrogant Roman with awe. This picture, however, belongs to a later +period--that of the Crusades, perhaps, for here is a procession in which +appear figures in the long robe of the monk, and I think I can discern a +cross on that banner borne at their head. But what, dear Aunt Nancy, +could you possibly find in our land of yesterday, to associate with such +a scene?" + +"Our people may be of yesterday, Annie, but our land bears no marks of +recent origin. The most arrogant boaster of the Old World may feel +himself humbled as he stands within the shadow of our forests, and looks +up to trees which we might almost fancy to have waved over the heads of +'the patriarchs of an infant world?'" + +"And you have seen some such forests, and on the branches of these old +trees 'hangs a tale' which you will tell us. Is it not so, Aunt Nancy?" + +"I have seen such a forest, and I have a sketch of certain events +occurring within its circle. The narrative was given me by my friend, +Mrs. H., who was acquainted with the parties. You will find it in her +handwriting in the compartment of my desk from which you took the +engraving." + +Annie found the paper, and I saw a quiet smile pass around as she read +aloud its title. Mr. Arlington, at my request, took the reader's place, +and we spent our evening in listening to + + +THE HISTORY OF AN OLD MAID. + +It is an almost universal belief among those who have faith in man's +immortality, that when his spiritual nature has been divested of its +present veil--the bodily organization by which it at pleasure reveals or +conceals itself--it shall be manifested to all at a glance in the +unsullied beauty of holiness, or the dark deformity of vice. Shall our +vision extend further? Shall we read the soul's past history? Shall we +know the struggles which have given strength to its powers? The fears +which have shadowed, and the hopes which have lighted, its earthly path? +Shall we learn the unspoken sacrifices which have been laid on the altar +of its affections or its duty? Shall we see how a single generous +impulse has shaped the whole course of its being, and been as a heavenly +flame, to which every selfish desire and feeling have been committed in +noiseless devotion? If this be so, how many such records shall be +furnished by the life of woman? How often shall it be found, that from +such a flame has risen the light with which she has brightened the +existence of others! + +Meeta Werner was the daughter of industrious, honest Germans, who had +emigrated to the western part of Pennsylvania when she was a child of +only seven years old. Only a quarter of a mile from the spot on which +Carl Werner had fixed his residence lived a brother German, Franz +Rainer. Franz was a widower, with one child, a son, named Ernest. He was +a hard, stern man, and the first smiles which had lighted the existence +of the young Ernest were caught from the sprightly Meeta and her +kind-hearted mother. The children became playfellows and friends. It was +a wild country in which they lived. A very short walk from their own +doors brought them into a forest which seemed to their young +imaginations endless; where gigantic trees interlaced their branches, +and with their green foliage shut out the sun in summer, or in winter +reflected it in dazzling brightness, and a thousand gorgeous colors, +from the icicles which cased their leafless branches and pendent twigs. +There was not a footpath, a sunny hill or flowery dell, for miles around +their homes, which had not been trodden together by Meeta Werner and +Ernest Rainer before their acquaintance was a year old. Now they would +come home laden with wood-flowers, and now they might be seen treading +wearily back from some distant spot, with baskets filled with +blackberries, or with the dark-blue whortleberries. There were no +schools in the neighborhood, but they had been taught by their fathers +to read and write their own language, and Ernest afterwards acquired +some knowledge of English from the good pastor who had accompanied the +emigrants from Germany, and who acted as their interpreter when they +required one. Having access to few books, they seemed likely to grow up +with little more learning than might be gathered from their own +observation of the world around them; but when Ernest was eighteen and +Meeta fifteen years of age, circumstances occurred which gave an +entirely new coloring to their lives. + +Franz Rainer had not always been so stern and hard as he now seemed. He +had married imprudently, in the world's acceptation of that term; that +is, he had made a portionless but lovely girl his wife, and in doing so +had incurred his father's lasting displeasure. He had been banished from +a home of plenty with a small sum, "to keep him from starving," he was +told. With that sum and a young delicate wife he sailed for America, and +found a home for himself and his boy, and a grave for his wife, in the +forests of Pennsylvania. Too proud to seek a reconciliation with those +who had cast him off, he had held no communication with his own family +after leaving Germany; and it was not till Ernest was, as we have said, +eighteen, that the silence of his home was broken by what seemed a voice +from the past. After many hindrances and delays, and passing through +many hands for which it had not been intended, a letter reached him from +a merchant in Philadelphia, who had been requested to institute a search +for Franz by his only brother. The old Rainer was dead, and the family +estate had descended to this brother, a scholar and a man of solitary +habits. Finding himself growing old in a lonely home, and retaining some +kindly memory of the brother in whose companionship his childhood had +been passed, he wished him to return to Germany, and again dwell with +them in the house of their fathers. To this Franz would by no means +consent. His nature was cast in too stern a mould to re-knit at a word +the ties which had been so violently sundered. He consented, however, +after some correspondence with his brother, to send Ernest to Germany, +to be educated there; at least, to receive such an education as could be +gained in four years; for he insisted that at the end of that time he +should return to America, and remain there while his father lived. +"After my death, if he choose to return to the home from which his +father was banished, he may," wrote the still resentful Franz. + +And how was this change in all the prospects of his life received by the +young Ernest and his companion Meeta? By him with mingled feelings; +regret, joy, fear, hope, by turns ruled his soul. The regret was all for +Meeta and her mother; they were the sources of all his pleasant +memories; and as he gazed upon Meeta's hitherto bright face, now +clouded with sorrow, and kissed from her cheek the first tears he had +ever known her to shed for herself, he was ready to give up all his fair +prospects abroad and live with her for ever. Meeta herself, however, +gave a new direction to his thoughts, by generously turning from the +subject of her grief in parting, to dwell on the idea of the delight +with which they would meet again, and especially on her peculiar +pleasure in seeing Ernest come back "riding in a grand coach, with +servants following him on horseback, as she remembered to have seen in +Germany, and knowing enough to teach Parson Schmidt himself!" After +listening to such prophecies, Ernest no longer expressed any desire to +remain with Meeta; he contented himself, instead, with promising to +return as soon as he could, and with winning from her a promise that, +come when he might, she would be his wife. This was not a new thought or +a new word to either. They could scarcely tell themselves when the idea +had first arisen in their minds that they would one day live together, +and be what Carl Werner and his wife were to each other. They had even +chosen a site for their house; and Ernest had more than once of late +expressed the opinion that they were old enough to inform their parents +of their intentions; but the more timid Meeta objected. Now, however, +she could refuse Ernest nothing, and before the day of parting came they +had made a _confidante_ of Meeta's mother, and from her the two fathers +had learned the desires of their children. Carl Werner heard the story +with a smile; but a denser shadow gathered on the dark brow of Franz. +For a moment something of his father's pride was in his heart; but his +own blighted life arose before him, and he said, "The boy may do as he +pleases. No man has a right to control another on such a subject." + +The sun had not yet risen, though its rays were gilding the few light +clouds that flecked the eastern sky, when Meeta and Ernest stood +together beneath an old oak which had long been their favorite +"trysting-tree," to say those words and give and receive those last +looks which are among life's most sacred treasures. Smiles and blushes +mingled with tears on Meeta's cheek as Ernest pressed her to his bosom, +kissed her again and again, and promised that his first letter from +Germany should be addressed to her, and that in exactly four years from +that date he would be again beneath that tree, to claim her promise to +be his for ever. The voice of Carl Werner, who was to accompany Ernest +the first stage of his journey, startled them in the midst of their +adieus; and bursting from the arms of her companion, Meeta plunged +deeper into the woods to escape her father's eye. When Carl returned in +the evening he handed her a small parcel, saying, "There's some foolery +that Ernest bought for you, Meeta. Silly boy! I hope they'll teach him +in Germany to take better care of his money!" + +The parcel contained a very plain locket, with one of Ernest's dark +curls inclosed in it. Plain as it was, it seemed to Meeta, as it +probably had seemed to Ernest, a magnificent present; yet she valued +more the few simple words written on the paper which enveloped it: "For +Meeta, my promised wife." Four months passed away before Meeta heard +again of her lover. Then there came a letter to her, which was full of +the great cities through which Ernest had passed, the home to which he +had come, and the new life which was opening to him there. In his +descriptions his uncle seemed a very grand gentleman, and his uncle's +housekeeper almost as grand a lady. He told of the new wardrobe which +had been provided for him, the acquaintances to whom he had been +introduced, and the studies he had commenced. And in all this Meeta saw +but the first step towards that grandeur which she had predicted for +him, and she rejoiced. + +Four or five such letters were received by Meeta, each full of her +lover himself; but they came at lengthening intervals, and during the +third year she received from him only messages sent through his father, +though every message still conveyed a promise to write soon. The letters +of Ernest showed that he had made great advances in scholarship during +his residence in Germany, and to all but Meeta herself, and perhaps her +mother, they gave equal evidence that his heart was not with the home or +the friends he had left in America. But no shadow ever passed over the +transparent face of Meeta. Ernest was to her still the frank, ardent, +simple-hearted boy whom she had loved so long and so truly. She was +still his promised wife. Her quick sensibility to all which touched him +made her feel that there was a change in the tone with which her father +named him, and an expression, half of anger, half of pity, on his face +when she alluded to him. It was an expression which gave her pain, +though she did not understand its meaning; and she ceased to speak of +Ernest, lest she should call it up; but his locket lay next her heart, +his letters were well-nigh worn away with frequent reading, and no day +passed in which she did not visit the oak beneath which they had parted, +and beneath which she fondly believed they were to meet again. + +During the fourth year of Ernest's absence his letters to his father +became more frequent, and sometimes inclosed a few lines to Meeta. To +both he expressed a strong desire to stay one more year abroad, alleging +that to interrupt his studies now would be to render all his past labors +unavailing. There was hardly a struggle in Meeta's mind in yielding her +almost matured hopes to what seemed so reasonable a wish of Ernest; but +the elder Rainer was not so easily won to compliance. Urgent +representations from his brother as well as Ernest, did at length, +however, induce him to consent to the absence of his son for another +year. + +This was an important year to Meeta. It brought her an acquaintance +through whom her dormant intellect was aroused, and her manners fitted +for something more than the rude life by which she had been hitherto +surrounded. This was Mrs. Schwartz, the wife of a young pastor, who had +come to assist Mr. Schmidt in those duties to which his advancing years +rendered him unequal. Mrs. Schwartz was a woman of no ordinary stamp. +Highly educated, with an intense enjoyment of every form of beauty and +grace, she saw something of them embellishing the homeliest employments +and most common life with which a sentiment of duty was connected. +Severe illness had confined her to her bed for many weeks soon after her +arrival, and before she had been able to establish that perfect domestic +economy, which renders the daily and hourly inspection and interference +of the mistress of a mansion needless to the comfort of its inmates. +During this period, Meeta, whose sympathies had been deeply interested +in the stranger, nursed her, and planned for her, and worked for her, +until she made herself a place in her heart among her life-friends. As +Mrs. Schwartz saw her moving around her with such busy kindness, the +thought often arose in her mind, "What can I do for her?" This is a +question we seldom ask ourselves of any one sincerely without finding an +answer to it. + +We have said that Meeta had access to few books in early life; we might +have added that she had little opportunity of hearing the conversation +of persons more cultivated than herself. Thus were the two great sources +of intellectual development sealed to her. She had a thoughtful, earnest +mind. She loved the beautiful world around her, and the GREAT BEING who +made and sustained that world. But if the contemplation of these things +awakened thoughts of a higher character than the daily baking and +brewing, milking and scrubbing in her father's house, she had no +language in which to clothe them, and vague and undefined, they fleeted +away like the morning mists, leaving no impress of their presence. Her +acquaintance with Mrs. Schwartz, and the conversation she sometimes +heard between her and her husband, gave to these shadows substance and +form, and awakened a new want in Meeta's soul--the want of knowledge. As +in all else, Ernest was present in this. He would doubtless be +intelligent, wise, like Mr. Schwartz, and how could she be his +companion? Something of these new experiences in Meeta was divined by +Mrs. Schwartz, and with a true womanly tact she became her teacher +without wounding her self-love. The road to knowledge once opened to +Meeta, her advance on it was rapid. How could it be otherwise, when +every step was bringing her nearer to Earnest! The elevation and +refinement of mind which Meeta thus acquired impressed themselves on her +agreeable features. Her dark eyes became bright with the soul's light, +and her whole aspect so attractive, that her old friends exclaimed, as +they looked upon her, "How handsome Meeta Werner grows, she who used to +be so plain!" + +After a time these superficial observers thought they had found the +cause of this change in Meeta's change of costume, for a new sense of +beauty had been awakened in her, under whose guidance her dark hair was +brought in soft silken braids upon her cheeks, wound gracefully around +her well-shaped head, and sometimes ornamented with a ribbon or a +cluster of wild flowers: while her dresses where remodelled so as to +resemble less the fashion which her mother and her sister emigrants had +imported thirteen years before from Germany, and to give a more natural +air to her really fine figure. + +"How wonderfully Meeta has improved," said Mr. Schwartz, one evening to +his wife, as he looked after the retreating form of her friend. + +"Yes, and I am truly rejoiced that she has so improved before her lover +returns to claim her." + +"I wish he could have taken away with him such an impression as our +handsome and intelligent Meeta would now make. He would have been much +more likely to remain constant to her. There must be a painful contrast +between the cultivated and graceful women he has known in Germany, and +his memory of his early love." + +"Love is a great embellisher," said Mrs. Schwartz, with a gay smile, and +the conversation passed to more general topics. + +The fifth year of Ernest's absence was gone, and still he came not; but +he was coming soon, at least so his father said, though he did not show +Meeta the letters on which he founded his assertion. It was the first +time he had withheld them; a circumstance the more remarkable, because +of late he seemed to regard Meeta with greater affection and confidence +than he had ever done before. He now sought her society, and seemed +pleased and even proud of the connection to which he had at first +consented with some reluctance. It was very soon after the reception of +the letter from Ernest to which we have alluded, that Franz Rainer's +health began to fail, and that so rapidly, that Meeta feared Ernest +could not arrive in time to see him. She was to the old man an angel of +consolation, and he clung to her as to his last hope. In pity to his +lonely condition, her own parents were willing to spare her for a time, +and Meeta, that she might take care of him by night as well as by day, +had removed to his house a week before Ernest's arrival. He came not +wholly unwarned of the sorrow that awaited him, for he had found a +letter from Meeta at the house of the merchant in Philadelphia through +whom he had corresponded with his father, tenderly yet plainly revealing +her fears, and urging him to hurry homeward without delay. He travelled +with little rest or refreshment for two days and nights, and arrived +late on the third day at his father's house. It was a still summer +evening, and while the old man slept, Meeta sat near him in the only +parlor the house afforded, reading by a shaded night lamp. She heard +the sound of carriage wheels, and paused to listen; the sound ceased; a +shadow darkened the moonlight which had been streaming through an open +window, and then Ernest, the playfellow of her childhood, the lover of +her youth, stood before her; but how changed, how gloriously changed +thought Meeta, even in that hour of hurry and agitation. They gazed on +each other in silence for a moment, and then Meeta with a bright smile, +yet in a whisper, for even then she forgot not the dying man, asked: + +"Do you not know me, Ernest?" + +"Meeta!" he ejaculated, as he took the hand she extended to him, but +dropping it almost immediately, he said anxiously: "My father! he lives, +Meeta?" + +"He does, Ernest, and may live, I think _will_ live, for many days yet." + +"Thank GOD! then I shall see him again!" + +The conversation had till now been in whispers, but Ernest uttered his +ejaculation of thankfulness aloud. There was a movement in the old man's +room, a sound, and Meeta glided to his side. + +"Who were you talking with, my daughter?" he murmured feebly. For many +days Franz Rainer had called Meeta daughter, as though he found pleasure +in recalling the tie between them. + +"With one who tells me Ernest has arrived, and will see you soon," said +Meeta. + +"It is Ernest himself. I knew his voice: Ernest, my son!" And the old +man's tones were loud and strong, as Meeta had heard them for days. In +another moment, Ernest was bending over his father, and they were gazing +on each other with a tenderness whose very existence they had not before +suspected. Tears were rolling down the face of the once stern old man, +as he pressed his son's hand again and again, and murmured blessings on +him, and thanks to GOD for his safe return; and Ernest, as he marked the +death-shadow on his father's brow, felt that a tie was tearing away +which had been woven more intimately than he had supposed with his +heart's fibres. The weeping Meeta composed herself that she might soothe +them. + +"Ernest, I cannot let you stay longer here; I am your father's nurse." + +"My nurse, my daughter, my all, Ernest; your gift to me, my son, which, +thank GOD! you have come in time to receive again from my hands. Take +her to you, Ernest." + +The old man held Meeta's hand clasped in his own towards his son, and +Ernest touched it, but so slightly and with a hand so cold, that Meeta +looked up in alarm. There was a beseeching expression in the eyes that +met hers; a look which she did not understand, and yet on which she +acted. + +"Ernest," she said, "you are fatigued to death, and your father has been +too much agitated already. Go, I pray you, for the present; I cannot +leave your father, but you will find coffee and biscuits by the kitchen +fire, and there is a bed prepared in your own room. Good-night; we shall +meet again to-morrow," she added with a smile to the old man. + +Ernest gave her a more cordial glance and pressure of the hand than she +had yet received from him; told his father that he would only snatch an +hour's sleep and be with him again, and left the room. + +"Go with him, Meeta; you must have much to say." + +"Nothing that we cannot say as well to-morrow. And now you must take +another sleeping draught, for I see Ernest has carried off all the +effect of your last." + +Meeta spoke cheerfully, yet her heart was sad, she scarcely knew why. +She would not think Ernest unkind, yet how different had been their +meeting from that which fancy had so often sketched for her! + +Franz Rainer fell asleep, and again Meeta returned to the parlor. A lamp +was still burning there, and by its dim light she saw the form of Ernest +extended on a settee with his cloak and valise for his bed and pillow. +At first she drew timidly back into the chamber, but as the slight noise +she had made before perceiving him, had failed to disturb him, she felt +assured that he slept soundly, and an irresistible desire arose in her +heart to draw near him, and look at him more closely than she had yet +ventured to do. She stood beside him; her heart bounded against the +locket, his gift, which lay in its accustomed place, as she marked with +a quick eye how the handsome but uncouth stripling had expanded into the +man of noble proportions, whose features had, like her own, acquired a +new character under the refining touch of intellect. Meeta looked on him +till her eyes grew dim with tears pressed from a heart full of emotion, +compounded of happy memories and glad hopes, shadowed by disappointment +and saddened by doubt. Above all other feelings, however, rose the +undying love which had "grown with her growth, and strengthened with her +strength." Suddenly, by an irrepressible impulse, she laid her hand +softly on the dark locks of waving hair which clustered over his broad +brow, and breathed in low, tender accents, "My Ernest!" + +On leaving his father's room, Ernest had thrown himself on his hard +couch, not to sleep, but to rest; and when slumber overpowered him, he +had yielded to it unwillingly, and with the determination to be on the +alert and ready to arise on the first summons. Sleep that comes thus, +howsoever it may continue through other disturbing causes, rarely +resists a touch, or the sound of our own name, and light as was Meeta's +touch, and low as were her tones, Ernest was partially aroused by them. +He stirred, and she would have retreated noiselessly from his side, but +as his eyes unclosed, they fell upon her with an expression of such +rapturous love as she had never seen in them before, and in an instant +he had encircled her form with his arm, and drawn her to his bosom. In +glad surprise she rested there a moment; it was but a moment. + +"Sophie--my Sophie!" were the murmured words that met her ear, and gave +her strength to burst from his embraces and glide rapidly, noiselessly +back into the darkened chamber. There, sheltered by the darkness, she +could see Ernest raise himself slowly up from his couch, look almost +wildly around him, and then seemingly satisfied that he had only +dreamed, sink back again to rest. + +A dream it had indeed been to him; a shadow of the night; to Meeta a +dark cloud, in whose gloom she was henceforth to walk for ever. Hours of +conversation could not so fully have revealed the truth to Meeta as +those simple words: "Sophie--my Sophie!" uttered by Ernest in such a +tone of heart-worship. Ernest loved with all the fond idolatry which she +had thought of late belonged not to man's affections; but he loved +another. Jealousy; the bitter consciousness of her own slighted love; +the memory of his vows; the crushing thought that she was nothing to him +now; that while he had been the life of her life, another had filled his +thoughts and ruled his being, created a wild tempest in her soul. All +was still around her. The sick man, the tired Ernest slept; and without, +not even the rustling of a leaf disturbed the repose of Nature. She +seemed to herself the only living thing in the universe; and to her, +life was torture. An hour passed in this still concentrated agony, and +she could endure it no longer; she must be up and doing; she would wake +Ernest; she would tell him the revelation she had made; upbraid him with +her blighted life, and leave him. Let him send for his Sophie; what did +she, the outcast, the rejected, there in his house?--why should she +nurse his father? She arose and approached again the couch of Ernest; +she was about to call to him, but she was arrested by the expression of +agony in his face. His brow was contracted, and as she continued to +gaze, low moans issued from his quivering lips. Ernest too was a +sufferer; how that thought softened the hard, cold, icy crust that had +been gathering around her heart! The bitterness of pride and jealousy +gave place to tenderer emotions. Tears gathered in her eyes, and +stealing softly back to her sheltered seat, she wept long and silently. + +"In sorrow the angels are near;" and Meeta's heart was now full of +sorrow, not of anger. Sad must her life ever be, but what of that, if +Ernest could be happy? Perhaps he suffered for her; the good, true +Ernest. It might be that only in dreams he had told his love to Sophie, +bound to silence, painful silence, by his vows to her. She then could +make him happy, and was not that her first desire? If it were not, her +love was a low, selfish, unworthy love, and she would pray that it might +be purified. She did pray, not as she would have done an hour before, to +be taken out of the world, but that she might be made meet to do the +will of her FATHER while in the world. She prayed for herself, for +Ernest; and sweet peace stole into her heart, and before the morning +light came, she had resolved not to leave the old man who loved her, +during his few remaining days, yet not to keep Ernest in doubt of his +own freedom. She was impatient that he should awake, and fell asleep +imagining various modes of making her communication to him. Exhausted by +mental agitation even more than by watching, she slept long and heavily. +When she awoke, Ernest was shading the window at her side, through which +the sun was shining brightly into the room. As she moved he looked at +her kindly, and said: + +"I am afraid I awoke you, Meeta, when I meant only to prolong your sleep +by shutting out this light." + +"I have slept long enough," was all that Meeta could say. The old Rainer +was awake, and dreading above all things some allusions from him to the +supposed relations of Ernest and herself, she hastened from the room and +busied herself in the preparation of breakfast. Having seen that meal +placed upon the table, she returned to the sick room and begged that +Ernest would pour out his own coffee, while she did some things that +were essential to his father's comfort. She lingered till Ernest came to +see whether he could take her place, and then, as the old man slept +peacefully, and she could make no further excuse, she accompanied him +back to the table. The breakfast, a mere form to Meeta at least, +proceeded in silence, or with only a casual remark from Ernest, scarcely +heard by her, on the weather, the rapidity with which he had travelled, +or his father's condition. Suddenly Meeta seemed to arouse herself as +from a deep reverie: + +"Why do you not talk to me of Sophie?" she said, attempting to speak +gayly, though one less embarrassed than Ernest could not have failed to +note the tremulousness of her voice, and the quivering of the pallid lip +which vainly strove to smile. + +But Meeta's agitation was as nothing to that of Ernest. For a moment he +gazed upon her as though spell-bound, then dropping his face into his +clasped hands, sat actually shivering before her. It was plain that +Ernest had not lightly estimated his obligations to her. If he had +sinned against them he had not despised them, and this conviction gave +new strength to Meeta. She rose for the hour superior to every selfish +emotion. Laying her hand upon his arm, she said, gently: + +"Be not so agitated, Ernest; can you not regard me as your friend, and +talk to me as you did in old days of all that disturbs you; and why +should you be disturbed at my speaking of--of your Sophie? You do not +suppose that--you know that--in short, Ernest, we cannot be expected to +feel now as we did five years ago; but surely that need not prevent our +being friends." + +Meeta had been herself too much confused of late, to remark her +companion. When she now ventured with great effort to meet his eyes, she +found them fixed upon her with an expression of lively admiration and +grateful joy. + +"Meeta, dear Meeta!" he exclaimed, seizing her hand and kissing it. "You +give me new life. I have been a miserable man for weeks past, torn by +conflicting claims upon my heart and my honor. You had claims on both, +Meeta; sacred claims, which I could never have asked you to forego; and +so had Sophie, for though I resisted long, there came a moment of mad +passion, of madder forgetfulness, in which, abandoning myself to the +present, I sought and obtained an avowal of her love. It was scarcely +over ere I felt the wrong I had done. I revealed that wrong to her; pity +me, Meeta! I told her all--your claims, your worth. To you I resolved to +be equally frank, and my only hope was in your generosity. But my father +had never suffered me to doubt that your heart was still mine, and +though I was assured that you would enable me to fulfil my obligations +to Sophie, I feared, I mean, I could not hope, that it would be without +any sacrifice; I mean without any regrets on your part." + +Ernest paused in some embarrassment; but Meeta could not speak, and he +resumed: + +"You have made me perfectly happy, Meeta, which even Sophie could not +have done, had I been compelled in devoting myself to her to relinquish +the friend and sister of my childhood." + +"Always regard me thus, Ernest, as your friend and sister, and I shall +be satisfied." + +Meeta had risen to return to the sick room, but Ernest caught her hand +and held her back, while he said: + +"But you must see my Sophie, Meeta; you must know her and then you will +love her too. She will be here soon with her sister, Mrs. Schwartz." + +"Mrs. Schwartz her sister? Then my last doubt is removed Ernest. She is +worthy of you." + +"Worthy of me!" And Ernest would have run into all a lover's rhapsodies +on this text, but Meeta had escaped from him. + +Hitherto Meeta's life had been one of quietness, of inaction, and now in +a few short weeks ages of active existence seemed crowded. One object +she had set before her as the great aim of her life; it was to secure +Ernest's happiness and preserve his honor. She understood now the +coldness with which her father had of late named him. It was essential +to her peace that this coldness should not deepen into anger. Not even +in her own family then must she have rest from the strife between her +inner and her outer life. Sympathy she must not have, since sympathy +with her was almost inseparably connected with reproach of Ernest. Time +had another lesson to teach, and Meeta soon learned it; that in a combat +such as she had to sustain, no half-way measures would suffice, that she +must not drive her griefs down to the depths of her heart, shutting them +there from every human eye, but she must drive them out of her heart. We +talk of feigning cheerfulness, of wearing a mask for the world and +throwing it off in solitude, and we may do this for a week, a month, a +year, but those who have a life-grief to sustain, from whose hearts hope +has died out, know that there are only two paths open to them in the +universe; to lie down in their despair and breathe out their souls in +murmurs against their GOD, and lamentations over their destiny; or, +humbly kissing the rod which has smitten them, to go forth out of +themselves, where all is darkness and woe, and find a new and happier +life in living for and in others. And thus did Meeta. + +We may not linger over the details of the next few weeks of her +existence. The old Rainer died; died blessing his children, Ernest and +Meeta, and praying for their happiness. Often would Ernest have told him +all; but Meeta kept back a disclosure which would have given him pain. +"Do not disturb him now, Ernest," she said; "he will know all soon, and +bless your Sophie from heaven, where there is no sorrow." + +Meeta returned home, and exhaustion won for her a few days rest; rest +even from her mental struggles; but when the funeral was over, and +things returned to their usual routine, she felt that she must prepare +her father and mother to receive Ernest in the character in which they +were henceforth to regard him. She found strength for this in her lofty +purpose and her simple dependence upon Heaven, and her voice did not +falter nor her color change as she said to her mother:-- + +"Do you not think Ernest is much altered?" + +"Yes, he is greatly improved." + +"Improved! Well, he may be so to the eyes of others, but--" + +"Is he not as tender to you, my daughter?" asked the sensitive mother. + +"That is not it," said Meeta, coloring for the first time: "we neither +of us feel as we once did; it was a childish folly to suppose that we +should. I have told Ernest that I could not fulfil our engagement, and +he is satisfied." + +Madame Werner looked long at her daughter, but Meeta met the glance +firmly. + +"And is this all, Meeta?" + +"All! What more would you have, dear mother?" + +"And are you happy, Meeta?" + +"Happier than I should be in marrying Ernest now, dear mother." + +Madame Werner explained all this to her husband, at her daughter's +request. He was not grieved at it. "Ernest," he said, "had never valued +Meeta as she deserved. He was glad she had shown so much spirit." + +Meeta had a more difficult task to perform. Mrs. Schwartz's sister has +come at last. She came from Germany at the same time with Ernest, but +stopped to make a visit to another sister in Philadelphia, and arrived +here only last night. "I will go and see her," said Meeta one morning to +Madame Werner. She went. As she approached the house, there came through +the open windows the sound of an organ, accompanied by a rich and highly +cultivated voice. Meeta would not pause for a moment, lest she should +grow nervous. It was essential to Ernest's happiness that Sophie should +be friendly with her; and the difficulties were of a nature which, if +not overcome at once, would not be overcome at all. Meeta entered the +small parlor without knocking, and found herself _tete-a-tete_ with the +musician; a young, fair girl, delicately formed, with beautiful hands +and arms, and pleasing, pretty face. As she saw the visitor, her song +ceased. Meeta smiled on her, and extending her hand, said: "You are +Sophie--Ernest's Sophie?" + +"And you," said the fair girl, with wondering eyes, "are--" + +"Meeta." + +This was an introduction which admitted no formality, and when Mrs. +Schwartz entered half an hour later, she was surprised to find those so +lately strangers conversing in the low and earnest tones which betoken +confidence, while the lofty expression on the countenance of the one, +and the moist eyes and flushed cheeks of the other, showed that their +topic was one of no ordinary interest. + +Six months passed rapidly away, and then Ernest felt that he might, +without disrespect to his father's memory, bring home his bride. Their +engagement had been known for some time, and had excited no little +surprise; though perhaps less than the continued and close friendship +between them and Meeta. Many improvements in Sophie's future home had +been suggested by Meeta's taste, and Ernest had acquired such a habit of +consulting her, that no day passed without an interview between them. At +length the evening preceding the bridal-day had arrived, and Ernest and +Sophie had gone to secure Meeta's promise to officiate as bridesmaid in +the simple ceremony of the morrow. They were to be married at the +parsonage, in the presence of a few witnesses only, and were immediately +to set out on an excursion which would occupy several weeks. They had +urged Meeta to accompany them, but she had declined. "But she cannot +refuse to stand up with me--do you think she can?" said Sophie to her +sister, as she prepared to accompany Ernest to Carl Werner's. + +"I do not think she _will_ refuse," Mrs. Schwartz replied. + +"You do not think she will!" repeated Mr. Schwartz, in an accent of +surprise, to his wife, when Ernest and Sophie had left them. "How does +that consist with your idea of Meeta's love for Ernest?" + +"It perfectly consists with a love like Meeta's; a love without any +alloy of selfishness. Dear Meeta! how little is her nobleness +appreciated! Even I dare not let her see that she is understood by me, +lest I should wound her delicate and generous nature." + +There was a pause, and then Mr. Schwartz said, hesitatingly, "If it be +as you think, Meeta is a noble being; but----" + +"If it be!" interrupted Mrs. Schwartz, with warmth. "Can you doubt it? +Have you not seen the loftier character which her generous purpose has +impressed upon her whole aspect? the elevation--I had almost said the +inspiration, which beams from her face when Ernest and Sophia are +present? Sophie is my sister, and I love her truly; yet I declare to +you, at such times I have looked from her to Meeta, and wondered at what +seemed to me Ernest's infatuation." + +"Sophie is fair, and delicate, and accomplished, the very +personification of refinement, natural and acquired, and the antipodes +of all which Ernest, ere he saw her, had begun to dread in the untaught +Meeta of his memory. I am not surprised at all at his loving Sophie, but +I cannot at all understand how the simple and single-hearted Meeta can +feign so long and so well, as on your supposition she has done." + +"Feign! Meeta feign! I never said or thought such a thing. A course of +action lofty as Meeta's must have its foundation deep in the heart, in +principles enduring as life itself. Had Meeta's been the commonplace +feigned satisfaction with Ernest's conduct to which pride might have +given birth, she would have been fitful in her moods; alternately gay or +gloomy; generous and kind, or petulant and exacting. The serenity, the +composure of countenance and manner which distinguish our Meeta, spring +from a higher, purer source. It is the sweet submission of a chastened, +loving spirit, which can say to its FATHER in Heaven:-- + + 'BECAUSE my portion was assign'd, + Wholesome and bitter, THOU art kind, + And I am blessed to my mind.'" + +"A state of feeling to be preferred certainly to the gratification of +any earthly affection; but I scarcely see how it can accord with Meeta's +continued love of Ernest." + +"That is because you do not separate love from the selfish desires with +which it is too generally accompanied. Meeta loves Ernest so truly, so +entirely, that she cannot be said to yield her happiness to his, but +rather to find it in his; his joy, his honor, are hers." + +"And can woman feel thus?" asked Mr. Schwartz, as he looked with +admiration upon his wife, her cheeks glowing and her eyes lighted with +the enthusiasm of a spirit akin to Meeta's. + +"There are many mysteries in woman which you have yet to fathom," said +Mrs. Schwartz, with a smile. + +To the good pastor and his wife, the next day, even Sophie was a less +interesting object of contemplation than Meeta, who stood at her side. +She was pale, very pale, and dressed with even more than usual +simplicity; yet there was in her face so much of the soul's light, that +she seemed to them beautiful. Her congratulations were offered in +speechless emotion. The brotherly kiss which Ernest pressed upon her +cheek called up no color there, nor disturbed the graceful stillness of +her manner; and when Sophie, who had really become sincerely attached to +her, threw herself into her arms, she returned her embrace with +tenderness, whispering as she did so, "Make Ernest happy, Sophie, and I +will love you always!" + +And now what have we more to tell of Meeta? It cannot be denied that +there were hours of darkness, in which the joyous hopes and memories of +her youth rose up vividly before her, making her present life seem sad +and lonely in contrast. But these visitors from the realm of shadows +were neither evoked nor welcomed by Meeta. Resolutely she turned from +the dead past, to the active, living present, determined that no shadow +from her should darken the declining days of her father and mother. She +is the light of their home, and often they bless the Providence which +has left her with them. What would they have done without her cheerful +voice to inspire them in bearing the burdens of advancing life? + +But not only in her home was Meeta a consolation and a blessing. The +poor, the sick, the sorrowing, knew ever where to find true sympathy and +ready aid. She was the "Lady Bountiful" of her neighborhood. But there +was one house where more especially her presence was welcomed; where no +important step was taken without her advice; where sorrow was best +soothed by her, and joy but half complete till she had shared it. This +house was Ernest Rainer's. To him and Sophie she was a cherished sister, +to whose upright and self-forgetting nature they looked up with a +species of reverence; and to their children she was "Dear Aunt Meeta! +the kindest and best friend, except mamma, in the world!" + +How many more useful, more noble, or happier persons than our old maid +can married life present? Is she not more worthy of imitation than the +"Celias" and "Daphnes" whose delicate distresses have formed the staple +of circulating libraries, or than those feeble spirits in real life, +who, mistaking selfishness for sensibility, turn thanklessly from the +blessings and coldly from the duties of life, because they have been +denied the gratification of some cherished desire? + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +It is Christmas, merry Christmas, as we have been duly informed this +morning by every inhabitant of Donaldson Manor, from Col. Donaldson to +the pet and baby Sophy Dudley, who was taught the words but yesterday, +for the occasion. Last evening our readings were interrupted, for all +were busy in preparing for this important day. Miss Donaldson was +superintending jellies and blanc-manges, custards and Charlottes des +Russes; Col. and Mrs. Donaldson were preparing gifts for their servants, +not one of whom was forgotten, and Annie and I, and, by his own special +request, Mr. Arlington, were arranging in proper order the gifts of that +most considerate, mirthful and generous of spirits, Santa Claus. This +morning the sun rose as clear and bright as though it, too, rejoiced in +the joy of humanity; but long before the sun had showed himself, little +feet were pattering from room to room, and childish voices shouting in +the unchecked exuberance of delight. I sometimes doubt whether the +children are so happy as I am, on such occasions. One incident that +occurred this morning would have been enough, in my opinion, to repay +all the time, the trouble, and the gold, which Santa Claus, or his +agents, had expended on their preparations. Aroused by the voices of the +children, I threw on a dressing-gown and hastened to the room +appropriated to their patron saint, which I entered at one door just as +little Eva Dudley appeared at another. Without being in the least a +beauty, Eva has the most charming face I know; merry and bright as +Puck's, or as her own life, which from its earliest dawn has been joyous +as a bird's carol. She gazed now with eager delight on the toys +exhibited by her brothers and sisters, without, apparently, one thought +of herself, till Robert said, "But see here, Eva, look at your own." + +As her eyes rested on the large baby-house, with its folding-doors open +to display the furniture of the parlors, and the two dolls, mother and +daughter, seated at a table on which stood a neat china breakfasting +set, she clasped her dimpled hands in silent ecstasy for half a minute, +then rising to her utmost height on her rosy little toes, she exclaimed, +"Oh, isn't I a happy little woman!" + +Dear Eva! a little _girl's_ heart would not have seemed to her large +enough to contain such a rapture. + +Our party has been augmented since breakfast by the arrival of several +families of Donaldsons--some of whom live at too great a distance for +visits at any other time than Christmas, when all who stand in any +conceivable, or I was about to say inconceivable, degree of relationship +to the Donaldsons of Donaldson Manor, are expected to be here. Among +this host of uncles and aunts and cousins, I was really grateful for my +own prefix of aunt, and I heard Mr. Arlington whisper a request to +Robert to call him uncle--a title to which I have no doubt he would +willingly make good his claim. + +In the midst of this general hilarity, the religious character of the +day was not forgotten, and all the family and some of the visitors +attended the morning services in the church. We know that there are +those who, doubting the testimony on which the Christian world has +agreed to observe the 25th of December as the birthday into our mortal +life of the world's Saviour, and the era from which man may date his +hopes of a happy immortality, consider the religious observances of this +day a sheer superstition. On such a controversy I could say but little, +and I should be very unwilling so say that little here; but I would ask +if it can be wrong in the opinion of any--nay, if it be not right, very +right, in the opinion of all--to celebrate once in the year an event so +solemn and so joyous to our race; and whether any day can be better for +such a purpose, than that which has been for centuries associated with +it wherever the Angel's song of "Peace on earth and good will to man" +has been heard? Another class of objectors there are who complain that a +day so sacred should be desecrated, as they express it, by revelry and +mirth. To their objection I should not have a word of reply, if it were +limited to a condemnation of that wild uproar and senseless jollity by +which men sometimes make fools or brutes of themselves; but when they +condemn the cheerfulness that has its home and its birthplace in a +grateful heart, when they frown upon the happy family gathering once +more within the old walls that had echoed to their childish gambols, +calling up by the spells of association, from the dim recesses of the +past, the very tones and looks of the mother that watched their cradled +sleep, and the father that guided their first tottering steps in the +pursuit of truth; tones and looks by which, if by any thing, the cold, +selfish spirit of the world to whose dominion they have yielded, may be +exorcised, and the loving and generous spirit of their earlier life may +again enter within them; when they declare these things inconsistent +with the Christian's joyful commemoration of that event to which he owes +his earthly blessings as well as his heavenly hopes. I can only pity +them for their want of harmony with the Great Spirit of the Universe, +the spirit of Love and Joy. + +Our Christmas was continued and concluded in the same spirit in which it +was commenced--the spirit of kindly affection to Man and devout +gratitude to Heaven. Those guests whose homes were distant remained for +the night, and in the evening, before any of our party had left us, +Col. Donaldson called on Robert Dudley to repeat a poem winch he had +learned at his request for the occasion. Robert was a little abashed at +first at being brought forward so conspicuously; but he is a manly, +intelligent boy, and his voice soon gathered strength and firmness, and +his eyes lost their downward tendency, and kindled with earnest feeling, +as he recited those beautiful lines of Charles Sprague, entitled-- + + +THE FAMILY MEETING. + + We are all here! + Father, mother, + Sister, brother, + All who hold each other dear. + Each chair is fill'd, we're all at home, + To-night let no cold stranger come; + It is not often thus around + Our own familiar hearth we're found. + Bless, then, the meeting and the spot; + For once be every care forgot; + Let gentle Peace assert her power, + And kind affection rule the hour; + We're all--all here. + + We're NOT all here! + Some are away--the dead ones dear, + Who throng'd with us this ancient hearth, + And gave the hour to guiltless mirth. + Fate, with a stern, relentless hand, + Look'd in and thinn'd our little band: + Some like a night-flash pass'd away, + And some sank, lingering, day by day; + The quiet grave-yard--some lie there-- + And cruel Ocean has his share-- + We're _not_ all here. + + We _are_ all here! + Even they--the dead--though dead so dear. + Fond Memory, to her duty true, + Brings back their faded forms to view. + How life-like, through the mist of years, + Each well-remember'd face appears! + We see them as in times long past, + From each to each kind looks are cast, + We hear their words, their smiles behold, + They're round us as they were of old-- + We _are_ all here. + + We are all here! + Father, mother, + Sister, brother, + You that I love with love so dear. + This may not long of us be said, + Soon must we join the gather'd dead, + And by the hearth we now sit round + Some other circle will be found. + Oh, then, that wisdom may we know, + Which yields a life of peace below! + So, in the world to follow this, + May each repeat, in words of bliss. + We're all--all _here_! + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +Yesterday we were more than usually still after the enjoyment of +Christmas, and a little quiet chit-chat seemed all of which we were +capable, but to-day every thing about us and within us began to settle +into its usual form, and this evening there was a general call for our +accustomed entertainment. I was inexorable to all entreaties, and Mr. +Arlington was compelled to open his portfolio for our gratification. + +"Select your subject," he said with a smile, as he drew forth sketch +after sketch and spread them on the table before us. "I have no story to +tell of any of them." + +"I select this," said Annie, as she held up a drawing, entitled, "The +Exiled Hebrews." + +"Ah!" said Mr. Arlington, as he glanced at it, "you have chosen well; +the subject is interesting." + +"But can you really tell us nothing of these figures, so noble yet so +touching in their aspect?" + +"No; nothing of _them_. I could tell you indeed of a _dying_ Hebrew, +whose portrait you may imagine you have before you in that turbaned old +gentleman." + +"Well, let us hear it." + + +THE DYING HEBREW. + + A HEBREW knelt in the dying light, + His eye was dim and cold, + The hair on his brow was silver white, + And his blood was thin and old. + He lifted his eye to his latest sun, + For he felt that his pilgrimage was done, + And as he saw God's shadow[3] there, + His spirit pour'd itself in prayer. + "I come unto Death's second birth + Beneath a stranger air, + A pilgrim on a chill, cold earth, + As all my fathers were; + And _men_ have stamp'd me with a _curse_, + I feel it is not _Thine_. + Thy mercy, like yon sun, was made + On me, as all to shine; + And therefore dare I lift mine eye + Through that to Thee, before I die. + In this great temple, built by Thee, + Whose altars are divine, + Beneath yon lamp that ceaselessly + Lights up Thine own true shrine, + Take this my latest sacrifice, + Look down and make this sod + Holy as that where long ago + The Hebrew met his God. + I have not caused the widow's tears, + Nor dimm'd the orphan's eye, + I have not stain'd the virgin's years, + Nor mock'd the mourner's cry. + The songs of Zion in my ear + Have ever been most sweet, + And always when I felt Thee near, + My shoes were 'off my feet.' + + I have known Thee in the whirlwind, + I have known Thee on the hill, + I have known Thee in the voice of birds, + In the music of the rill. + I dreamt Thee in the shadow, + I saw Thee in the light, + I heard Thee in the thunder-peal, + And worshipp'd in the night. + All beauty, while it spoke of Thee, + Still made my heart rejoice, + And my spirit bow'd within itself + To hear 'Thy still, small voice.' + I have not felt myself a thing + Far from Thy presence driven, + By flaming sword or waving wing + Cut off from Thee and heaven. + Must I the whirlwind reap, because, + My fathers sow'd the storm? + Or shrink because another sinn'd, + Beneath Thy red, right arm? + Oh! much of this we dimly scan, + And much is all unknown, + I will not take my _curse_ from _man_, + I turn to THEE alone. + Oh! bid my fainting spirit live, + And what is dark, reveal, + And what is evil--oh, forgive! + And what is broken--heal. + And cleanse my spirit from above, + In the deep Jordan of Thy love! + I know not if the Christian's heaven + Shall be the same as mine, + I only ask to be forgiven, + And taken home to THINE. + I weary on a far, dim strand, + Whose mansions are as tombs, + And long to find the Father-land, + Where there are many homes. + Oh! grant of all yon shining throngs + Some dim and distant star, + Where Judah's lost and scatter'd sons + May worship from afar! + When all earth's myriad harps shall meet + In choral praise and prayer, + Shall Zion's harp, of old so sweet, + Alone be wanting there? + Yet place me in the lowest seat, + Though I, as now, lie there, + The Christian's jest--the Christian's scorn, + Still let me see and hear, + From some bright mansion in the sky, + Thy loved ones and their melody." + + The sun goes down with sudden gleam, + And beautiful as a lovely dream, + And silently as air, + The vision of a dark-eyed girl + With long and raven hair, + Glides in as guardian spirits glide, + And lo! is standing by his side, + As if her sudden presence there + Was sent in answer to his prayer. + Oh! say they not that angels tread + Around the good man's dying bed? + His child--his sweet and sinless child, + And as he gazed on her, + He knew his God was reconciled, + And this the messenger. + As sure as God had hung on high + His promise-bow before his eye, + Earth's purest hopes were o'er him flung, + To point his heaven-ward faith, + And life's most holy feelings strung + To sing him into death. + And on his daughter's stainless breast, + The dying Hebrew sought his rest.[4] + +"Have I fulfilled my task?" asked Mr. Arlington, as he touched the +picture on which Annie's eyes were still fixed. + +"By no means," she answered; "the poem is beautiful; but is the drawing +from your own pencil?" + +"Oh, no! It is a copy of a copy. The original is by Biederrmanns, and +may be seen, I believe, in the Dresden Gallery. This sketch was made +from a copy in the possession of my friend, Mr. Michael Grahame. He had +it done while he was in Russia. By-the-by--if I had Aunt Nancy's powers +as a _raconteur_, I think I could interest you in the history of Mr. and +Mrs. Grahame." + +"Let us have it," exclaimed Col. Donaldson; "we will be lenient in our +criticisms; and should we ever call on you to give it to severer +critics, Aunt Nancy will dress it up for you." + +Mr. Arlington in vain sought to excuse himself. + +"It is of no use," cried Col. Donaldson; "I am a thoroughbred story +hunter, and now you have shown me the game, I must have it." + +To Mr. Arlington, therefore, the reader is indebted for the following +incidents, though I have fulfilled the promise made for me by the +Colonel, and dressed it up a little for its present appearance. I have +called the narrative thus prepared, + + +"ONLY A MECHANIC." + +With beauty, wealth, an accomplished education, and a home around which +clustered all the warm affections and graceful amenities of life, Lilian +Devoe was considered by her acquaintances as one of fortune's most +favored children. Yet in Lilian's bright sky there was a cloud, though +it was perceptible to none but herself. She was the daughter of an +Englishman, who, on his arrival in America with a sickly wife and infant +child, had esteemed himself fortunate in obtaining the situation of +farm-steward, or bailiff, at Mr. Trevanion's country-seat, near +New-York. + +"This is a pleasant home, Gerald," said Mrs. Devoe, on the day she took +possession of her small but neat cottage, as she stood with him beneath +a porch embowered with honey-suckle, and looked out upon a scene to +which hill and dale and river combined to give enchantment. + +"If you can be well and happy in it, love, I will try and forget that I +had a right to a better," said Gerald Devoe, with a grave yet tender +smile, as he drew his invalid wife close to his side. + +Grave, Gerald Devoe always was; and none wondered at it who knew his +early history. His family belonged to the gentry of England, and he had +been born to an inheritance sufficient to support him respectably in +that class. His mother, from whom he derived a sound judgment, and a +firm and vigorous mind, died while he was yet a child, leaving his weak +and self-indulgent father to the management of a roguish attorney, by +whose aid he made the future maintain the present, till, at his death, +little was left to Gerald beyond the bare walls of his paternal home and +the small park by which it was surrounded. He had been, for two years +before this time, married to one who had brought him little wealth, and +whose delicate health seemed to demand the luxuries which he could no +longer afford. For her sake, far more than for his own--even more than +for that of his cherished child--he shrank from the new condition under +which life was presenting itself to him. When at length his resources +utterly failed, and he could no longer veil the truth from his wife, her +gentle tender smile, her confiding caress, and above all, her ready +inquiry into his plans for the future, and her earnest effort to aid him +in bringing the chaos of his mind into order, taught him that there lies +in woman's affections a source of strength equal to all the requirements +of those who have won their way to that hidden fountain. It was by her +advice that, instead of wasting his energies in the vain struggle to +maintain his present position, he determined to carve out for himself a +new life in another land. The first step towards the fulfilment of this +resolution was also the most painful. It was the sacrifice of his home, +the home of his childhood, his youth, his manhood, with which all that +was dear in the present or tender in the past was associated. And yet +higher claims it had. It had been the home of his fathers. For three +hundred years those walls had owned a Devoe for their master, and now +they must pass into a stranger's hands, and he and his must go forth +with no right even to a grave in that soil which had seemed ever an +inalienable part of himself. It was a stern lesson, but life teaches +well, and it was learned. He could not turn to the liberal professions +for support, because he had no means of maintaining himself and his +family during the preparatory studies. Of farming he knew already +something, and spent some months in acquiring yet further information +respecting it, before he sailed from England. The determination and +energy with which Gerald Devoe had entered on his new career, had won +for him friends among practical men, and when he left England it was +with recommendations that insured his success. + +It was a fortunate circumstance for Mr. and Mrs. Devoe that Mr. +Trevanion required a farm-steward on their arrival, for in him and his +wife they found liberal employers, and persons of true Christian +benevolence, who, having discovered the superiority of their minds and +manners to their present station, hesitated not to receive them into +their circle of friends, when a knowledge of their past history had +acquainted them with their claims on their sympathy. Howsoever valuable +the friendship of persons at once so accomplished and so excellent was +to Mr. and Mrs. Devoe, for their own sakes, they prized it yet more for +their Lilian's. She was their only child, and their poverty lost its +last sting when they saw her linked arm in arm with young Anna +Trevanion, the companion of her lessons and her sports. They could not +have borne to see her, so lovely in outward form, and with a mind so +full of intelligence, condemned either to the dreariness of a life +without companionship, or to the degradation of association with the +rude and uncultivated. That this feeling was wholly unconnected with any +false views of their own position, or vain estimation of the claims +derived from their birth and former condition, was evident from their +readiness to receive into their friendly regards those in their present +sphere in whose moral qualities they could confide, and who did not +repel their courtesies by a rude and coarse manner. There was one of +this latter class who held a place in their esteem not less exalted than +that occupied by Mr. Trevanion himself. This was a Scotchman, living +within two miles of Mr. Trevanion's seat, who found at once an agreeable +occupation and a respectable support in a garden, from which he supplied +the markets of New-York with some of their choicest vegetables, and its +drawing-rooms with some of their choicest bouquets. Mr. Grahame was one +who, in those early ages when physical endowments constituted the chief +distinction between men, might have been chosen king of the tribe with +which he had chanced to be associated. Even now, in this self-styled +enlightened age, his tall and stalwart frame, his erect carriage, his +firm and vigorous step, his broad, commanding brow, his bright, keen +eye, and the firm, frank expression of his whole face, won from every +beholder an involuntary feeling of respect, which further acquaintance +only served to deepen. With little of the education of schools, he was a +man of reading, and, what schools can never make, he was a man of +thought, and of that sober, practical good sense, and those firm, +religious principles which are the surest, the only true and safe guides +in life. Mrs. Grahame was a gentle and lovely woman, with an eye to see +and a heart to feel her husband's excellences. And a worthy son of such +a father was Michael Grahame, the only child of this excellent pair. He +was six years older than Lilian Devoe, and having no sister of his own, +had been her playfellow and protector from her cradle. Even Anna +Trevanion could not rival Michael in Lilian's heart, nor all the +luxuries of Trevanion Hall compete with the delight of wandering with +him through the gardens of Mossgiel, listening to his history of the +various plants--for Michael had learned from his father where most of +them had first been found, and how and by whom they had been introduced +to their present abodes--and learning from him the chief points of +distinction between the different tribes of the vegetable world, and +many other things of which older people are often ignorant. But +acquainted as Michael was with the inhabitants of the garden, they did +not afford him his most vivid enjoyment. Mechanical pursuits were his +passion. + +Before Lilian was four years old, she had ridden in a carriage of his +construction, which he boasted the most unskilful hand on the most +unequal road could not, except from _malice prepense_, upset. To see +Michael a clergyman, or, if that might not be, a lawyer, was Mrs. +Grahame's dream of life; but when she whispered it to her husband, he +shook his head, with a grave smile, and pointed to the boy, who stood +near, putting the finishing touch to what he called his "magical glass." +This was the case of an old spy-glass, in which he had so disposed +several mirrors, made of a toilet-glass long since broken, as to enable +the person using the instrument to see objects in a very different +direction from that to which it appeared to be directed. The fond +parents watched his movements in silence for a few minutes: suddenly he +called in a glad voice, "Here, father, come and look through my magical +glass." + +Mr. Grahame obeyed the summons, saying to his wife, "He'll make a good +mechanic--better not spoil that, for a poor clergyman or lawyer." + +Michael had the advantage of the best schools to which his father could +gain access; and his teachers joined in declaring that his father might +make what he would of him, but his own inclination for mechanics +continued as fixed as ever, and Mr. Grahame was equally fixed in his +determination to let his inclination decide his career. + +"Let him be what he will, he must be something above the ordinary, or +your high people will remember against him that his father was a +gardener," said Mr. Grahame to his wife; "and you may be sure he'll rise +highest in what he loves." + +At sixteen Michael Grahame commenced his apprenticeship to the trade of +a mathematical instrument maker, to the perfect satisfaction of himself +and his father, the secret annoyance of his mother, and the openly +expressed chagrin of Lilian Devoe, who had shared all Mrs. Grahame's +ambitious hopes for her friend. From this period Lilian became the +inseparable companion of the young Trevanions, their only rival in her +heart being removed from her circle. She still considered Michael as +greatly superior to them, and indeed to all others, in personal +attributes, but she could seldom enjoy his society, since he resided in +the city; and as she approached to womanhood, and he exchanged the +vivacity of the boy for the man's thoughtful brow and more controlled +expression of feeling, their manner in their occasional interviews +assumed a formality which made it a poor interpreter of her heart's true +emotions. + +At seventeen Lilian Devoe was an orphan, left to the guardianship of Mr. +Trevanion and Mr. Grahame, with a fortune which secured to her a +prospect of all the comforts, and many of the elegancies of life. This +fortune was the result of a successful speculation made by Mr. Devoe +about a year before his death, with the little sum, which, by judicious +management, he had saved from his salary during many years. It was a sum +too small to secure to his daughter a maintenance in case of his death, +and with a trembling and almost despairing heart he had thrown it on the +troubled sea of speculation. From that hour he knew no peace. His life +was probably shortened by his anxieties, and when he received the +assurance of the successful issue of his experiment, he had but a few +days to live. Before his death, Mr. Trevanion had spoken very kindly to +him, and both he and Mrs. Trevanion had expressed the most friendly +interest in Lilian, and had offered to receive her as a member of their +own family, when her "home should be left unto her desolate." Mr. +Grahame and his kind-hearted wife had already made the same offer, and +Mr. Devoe, with the warmest expression of gratitude, commended his +daughter to the guardianship of both his friends. It was winter when Mr. +Devoe died--the Trevanions were in the city, and, by her own wish, +Lilian passed the first few months of her orphanage at the cottage of +Mr. Grahame. Never was an orphan more tenderly received, more dearly +cherished. + +Michael Grahame had now acquired his trade, and had entered into an +already established and profitable business with his former master, who +predicted that with his application, and his unusual talent and his +delight both in the theory of mechanics and the actual development of +that theory in practice, he must one day acquire a high reputation. +Perhaps this opinion might have been in some degree shaken by the long +and frequent holidays of his young partner during this winter. Michael +had never been so much at home since he left it, a boy of sixteen, and +before the winter had passed, all formality between him and Lilian had +vanished. Again they wandered together, as in childhood, through the +garden walks; again Lilian learned to regard him, not only as a loved +friend, but as a guide and protector. + +Mrs. Grahame saw the growth of these feelings with delight. She loved +Lilian, and gave the highest proof of her esteem for her, in believing +her worthy of her son. Mr. Grahame was less satisfied. He, too, loved +Lilian, and would have welcomed her to his heart as a daughter, but her +lately acquired fortune, and her connection with the Trevanion family, +gave her a right to higher expectations in marriage, than to become the +wife of a mechanic of very moderate fortunes, howsoever great was his +ability, or howsoever distinguished his personal qualities. No--Mr. +Grahame was not satisfied, and nothing but his confidence in Michael +kept him silent. The confidence was not misplaced. + +The news of Lilian's fortune, and of Mr. and Mrs. Trevanion's offer to +receive her into their family, had sent a sharp pang through the heart +of Michael Grahame, which had taught him the true character of his +attachment to her. + +"She is removed from my world--she can be nothing to me now," was the +first stern whisper of his heart, which was modified after two or three +interviews into--"She can only be a dear friend and sister. I must never +think of her in any other light." And, devoted as he had been to her +through the winter, no word, no look had told of love less calm or more +exacting than this. But there came a time when the quick blush on +Lilian's cheek at his approach, the tremor of her little hand as he +clasped it, told that she shared his feeling, without his power of +self-control. Then came the hour of trial to Michael Grahame's nature. +Self-immolation were easy in comparison with the infliction of one pang +on her. And wherefore should either suffer? Was it not a false sentiment +that denied to her the right to decide for herself, between those shows +and fashions which the world most prizes, and the indulgence of the +purest and sweetest affections of our nature? Was he not in truth +sacrificing her happiness to his own pride? It was a question which he +dared not answer for himself, and he applied to his father, in whose +high principles and clear judgment he placed implicit confidence. Mr. +Grahame was too shrewd, and in this case too interested an observer to +be unprepared for his son's avowal of his past feelings and present +perplexities. + +"You are right, my son," he replied to his appeal; "It is Lilian's right +to decide for herself on that which will constitute her own happiness." + +"Then I may speak to her--I may tell her--" + +"All you desire that she should know," said Mr. Grahame, gently, "when +Lilian has had an opportunity of knowing what she must sacrifice in +accepting you." + +"True--true--I will ask no promise from her--nay--I will accept none--I +will only assure her that should the world fail to fill her heart, the +truest and most devoted love awaits her here." + +"And in listening to that assurance, without rebuking it, a delicate +woman would feel that she had pledged herself." + +Michael Grahame's brow contracted, and his voice faltered slightly as, +after a moment's thoughtful pause, he asked, "What then would you have +me do?" + +"Nothing at present--Lilian will soon leave us, and at Mr. Trevanion's +she will see quite another kind of life--a life which, with her fortune +and their friendship, may be hers, but which she must give up should she +become the wife of a mechanic and the daughter-in-law of a gardener. Let +her see this life, my boy, and then let her choose between you and it." + +"And how can I hope that she will continue to regard me with kindness if +I suffer her to depart without any expression of interest in her?" + +"Any expression of interest! I do not wish you to be colder to her than +you have hitherto been, and I am much mistaken if Lilian would exchange +your _brotherly_ affection for all the gewgaws in life." + +"I will endeavor to take your advice, but I hope I shall not be tried +too long," were the concluding words of Michael Grahame, as he turned +from his father to seek composure in a solitary walk. When he had +returned, he found that his father had gone to the city--an unusual +circumstance at that season, and one which he could not afterwards avoid +connecting with a letter which Lilian received the next day from Anna +Trevanion, before she had risen from the breakfast table. + +"Papa," wrote Miss Trevanion, "has made me perfectly happy, dear Lilian, +by declaring that he cannot consent to leave you longer in the country. +I hope you will not find it very difficult to obey his commands in the +present instance, which are, that you shall be ready at noon to-morrow +to accompany him to the city, where you will find Mamma and your Anna, +waiting to receive you with open arms." + +"What is the matter, Lilian? Does your letter bring you bad news?" asked +Mrs. Grahame, as she saw the dejected countenance with which Lilian sat +gazing on these few lines. + +Michael said nothing, but, as Lilian looked up to answer Mrs. Grahame, +she saw that his eyes were fixed upon her, and the blood rushed to her +temples, while she said, "It is only a note from Anna Trevanion, to say +that her father is coming for me to-day at noon,--and--and--" Lilian +could go no farther--her voice faltered, and she burst into tears. +Michael Grahame started from his chair, but a movement of his father's +arm prevented his approaching Lilian, and unable to endure the scene, he +rushed from the room, while his mother, folding the weeping girl in her +arms, exclaimed, "Don't cry, Lilian, Mr. Trevanion will not certainly +make you go with him, if you do not wish it." + +"Hush, hush, good wife," said the kind but firm voice of Mr. Grahame; +"Lilian must not be so ungracious to such friends as Mr. and Mrs. +Trevanion, as to refuse to go to them when they wish her. Go, my dear +child," he continued, laying his hand on her bent head; "and remember +that no day will be so happy for us as that in which you come back--if +indeed," he added, more gayly, "you can come back to such an humble +home, after living among great folks." + +There was another voice for which Lilian listened, but she listened in +vain. Her first feeling on perceiving that Michael Grahame had left the +room while she lay weeping in his mother's arms was very bitter, but +Mrs. Grahame soothed her by saying, "Michael couldn't bear to see you +crying, dear, so when his father wouldn't let him speak to you, he +jumped up and ran off. Poor Michael! sadly enough he'll miss you." + +In about an hour, Michael again sought Lilian, bringing with him three +bouquets of hot-house flowers. Two of these had been arranged by his +father for Mrs. and Miss Trevanion, and the other was of flowers which +he had himself selected for Lilian. She stood beside him while he first +wrapped the stems of the flowers in a wet sponge, and then put them into +a box, to defend them from the cold. This was done, and the box handed +to Lilian without a word. As she took it, she asked in a low tone, and +turning away to hide her embarrassment as she spoke, "When shall I see +you in New-York?" + +"I shall be in New-York very soon," he replied; "perhaps to-morrow--but +we move there in such different spheres, Lilian, that I do not know when +we shall meet." + +"Perhaps never," said Lilian, endeavoring, not very successfully, to +steady her voice and speak with _nonchalance_, "unless you are willing +to leave what you call your sphere and seek me in mine." + +"I only need your permission to do so with delight,"--and so charming +had her evident emotion made her in his eyes, that Michael could not +refrain from pressing her hand to his lips. There was no anger in the +flush which this action brought to Lilian's cheek. + +Mr. Trevanion was punctual to the hour of his appointment, and descended +from his carriage only to hand Lilian into it. + +"You will call sometimes to see how your ward does," he said +good-humoredly to the elder Mr. Grahame, but to Michael not a word. He +had determined to discourage, and, if possible, completely to overthrow +any intimacy which Mr. Grahame had acknowledged to him was not +unattended with danger. Mr. Trevanion was a man of liberal mind, yet he +was not wholly free from the prejudices of his class, which made the +highest happiness the result of the highest social position. There is in +the mind of man so unconquerable a desire for the unattainable, that it +is not wonderful perhaps that this opinion should be entertained by +those who do not occupy that position; but to those who do, we should +suppose its fallacy would stand out too glaringly to be doubted or +denied. We are far from denying the advantages of rank and wealth: but +we view them not as an end, but as a means for the attainment of an end, +and that end, not happiness, except as happiness is indissolubly +connected with the perfection of our own powers, and with the extension +of our usefulness to others. He who, like Michael Grahame, can command +the means of intellectual cultivation and refinement, and a fair arena +for the exercise of his powers, when thus cultivated, need not envy the +possessor of larger fortune and higher station with his weightier +responsibilities and greater temptations. + +Michael Grahame understood Mr. Trevanion's coolness, but he was not one +to retreat from an unfought field. Three days had scarcely given to +Lilian the feeling of ease in her new home, when he called on her. He +had chosen morning, as the hour when others would be the least likely to +dispute her attention with him. She was at home--Mrs. and Miss Trevanion +were out--and a long _tete-a-tete_ almost reconciled him to her new +abode. He had not forgotten his father's advice, nor taken the seal +from his lips. He might not speak to her of love, but the nicest honor +did not forbid him to show her the true sympathy and affection of a +friend. In a few days he called again, and at the same hour; Miss Devoe +was not at home, she had gone out with Mrs. and Miss Trevanion. Again +the next day he came at the same hour, and the answer was the same. He +called in the afternoon at five o'clock, and she was at dinner; at seven +o'clock, she was preparing for an evening party, and begged he would +excuse her. "I will seek no more," said Michael Grahame at length, with +proud determination, "to enter the charmed circle which shuts her from +me in the city. They cannot keep her to themselves always, and if +Lilian's heart be what I deem it, it will take more than a few months of +absence to efface from it the memories of years." + +A few days only after this determination, Lilian was called down at nine +o'clock in the morning, to see Mr. Grahame. Early as it was, the furtive +glance towards her mirror and the hasty adjustment of her ringlets, +might have suggested to an observer, that she hoped to receive in her +visitor one who had an eye for beauty; and the sudden change that passed +over her countenance as she entered the parlor in which her two +guardians sat in earnest talk, would have awakened strong suspicions +that she did not see _the Mr. Grahame_ whom she had expected. Mr. +Trevanion rose as she entered, and shaking hands with Mr. Grahame, said +kindly, "I leave you with Lilian, Mr. Grahame, but I hope to see you +again at dinner--we dine at five." + +"Thank you, sir, but I hope to be taking tea with my good woman at home +at that hour." + +"Well, I shall hope to see you again soon--you must call often and see +your friend Lilian." + +"Why, I've been thinking, sir, that that would hardly be best for any of +us--and to tell the truth, I came to-day to talk with Lilian about that +very thing, and if you please, I have no objection that you should hear +what I have to say." + +Mr. Trevanion seated himself again, and Lilian placing herself on the +sofa beside him, Mr. Grahame resumed:--"It seems to me, sir, that Lilian +has to choose between two kinds of life, which, should she try to put +them together will only spoil one another, and I want her to have a fair +chance to judge between them. Now, you know, sir, I speak the truth when +I say that there are many among the fine gay people whom Lilian will +meet at your house, who would look down upon her for having such friends +as I and my wife, or even my son, though President B---- says he will be +a distinguished man yet." + +"I do not care for such people, or for what they think," exclaimed +Lilian indignantly. + +"I dare say not, my dear child, and yet they are people who are thought +a great deal of, and whom, if you are to live amongst them, it would be +worth your while to please--but that isn't my main point, Lilian. What I +want to say, though I seem to be long coming at it, is, that I want you +to see this gay life that fine folks in the city lead, at its +best--without any such drawbacks as it would have for you, if you were +suspected of having ungenteel acquaintances, and so we shall none of us +come to see you--barring you should be sick, or something else happen to +make you want us--until you make a fair trial, for six months at least, +of this life--then should the beautiful, rich Miss Devoe like the old +gardener and his family well enough to come and see them, she will learn +how fondly and truly they love their Lilian." + +"I had hoped you loved her too well to give her up so needlessly for six +months, or even for one month," said Lilian, tears rushing to her eyes. + +"Ask Mr. Trevanion if I am not right in what I have said, my dear +child," said Mr. Grahame tenderly. + +"I will not dispute the correctness of your principles in the main, Mr. +Grahame, but I hope you do not think that all Lilian's _fine_ +acquaintances as you call them, would be so unjust in their judgment as +to think the less of her for her love of you, or to undervalue you on +account of your position in life." + +"No sir--no sir--I don't think so of all--but I want Lilian to see this +life without even one little cloud upon it--such a cloud as the being +looked down upon, though it were by people she didn't greatly admire, +would make. We have our pride too, sir, and we want Lilian to try for +herself whether our friendship, with all its good and its bad, be worth +keeping. She is too good and affectionate, we know, to shake off old +friends that love her, even if they become troublesome--but we will draw +ourselves off, and then she will be free to come back to us or not, as +she pleases. Now, sir, tell me frankly, if you think me wrong." + +"Not wrong in principle, as I said before, Mr. Grahame, but--excuse +me--you required me to be frank--would it not have been better to have +made this withdrawal gradually and quietly, in such a manner that Lilian +would not have noticed it, instead of giving her the pain of this abrupt +severance of the ties between you?" + +"A great deal better, sir," said Mr. Grahame, coloring with wonderful +feeling, and fixing his clear, keen eye full on Mr. Trevanion,--"a great +deal better if I wished to sever those ties--a great deal better if I +would have Lilian believe that we had grown cold and indifferent to her. +But, my dear child," and he turned to her, and taking both her hands, +spoke very earnestly--"believe me, when I tell you, that you will find +few among those who see you every day, that love you so warmly as the +friends who have loved you from your birth, and who now stand away from +you only because they will not be in the way of what the world considers +higher fortunes for you if you desire them. To leave you free to choose +for yourself, is the strongest proof of love we could give you, and I +repeat, when you have tried all that this new life has to give +you--tried it for six months--if your heart still turns with its old +love to those early friends, you will give them joy indeed." + +Mr. Grahame paused, but neither Mr. Trevanion nor Lilian attempted to +reply to him for some minutes--at length she raised her eyes, and said, + +"You did not think of this when I left you--what has changed your +mind--I will not say your _heart_--towards me?" + +"You are right not to say our hearts, Lilian; but, indeed, even my mind +has not been changed--I thought then as I think now--but I could not +persuade others of our family to think with me. Now, however, they all +feel that they cannot keep up their old friendly intercourse with you +without mortification to themselves, and pain to you. And, as I said +before, we were none of us willing to withdraw from that intercourse +without giving you our reasons for it, lest you should think we had +grown indifferent to you." + +Mr. Grahame soon departed, leaving Lilian saddened and Mr. Trevanion +perplexed by his visit. "Singular old man!" this gentleman exclaimed to +himself more than once, in reflecting on all that Mr. Grahame had said; +so difficult is it for those whose minds have been forced into the +strait forms of conventionalism to comprehend the dictates of +untrammelled common sense, on points which that conventionalism +undertakes to control. One thing at least Mr. Trevanion did +comprehend--that on the succeeding six months depended Lilian's choice +of her position and associates for life. + +"So far Mr. Grahame is right Lilian," he said to her, "you cannot have a +place at once in two such different spheres as his and ours. I always +knew that to be impossible." + +"You called my father friend," said Lilian, with unusual boldness. + +"Your father was a gentleman by birth and breeding." + +"And he has told me," persisted Lilian, "that he has never known more +true refinement and even nobility of mind than in Mr. Grahame." + +"I agree with him--of _mind_, mark--but there is a want of conventional +refinement which would make itself felt in society." + +"There is no want even of this in his son," said Lilian with a trembling +voice, and turning away to hide the blush that burned upon her cheek. + +"Probably not, for Michael Grahame has been for years at the best +schools, with the sons of our first families--but we cannot separate him +from his father, and from the associates which his trade has given him." + +Neither Mr. Trevanion nor Lilian ever spoke on this subject again; but +the former resolved that no effort should be lost on his part to restore +one so beautiful and so accomplished as his young ward to what he +considered her true place in society, and the latter was as firmly +determined that nothing should make her forgetful of the friends of her +childhood. In furtherance of this resolve, Mr. Trevanion, instead of +retiring to his country-seat with his family on the approach of summer, +sent his younger children thither under the care of their faithful and +intelligent nurse; and with Mrs. and Miss Trevanion, and Lilian, set out +for Saratoga, at that season the great focus of fashion. Mrs. Trevanion, +entering fully into his designs, had attended to Lilian's equipments for +this important campaign, with no less care than to Anna's, and the +result equalled their fondest expectations. Lilian was _the beauty_, +_the heiress_, the belle of the season. Report exaggerated her fortune, +appended all sorts of romantic incidents to her history and her +connection with the Trevanions, and thus increased the interest which +her own beauty and modest elegance was calculated to awaken. Admirers +crowded around her, and to render her triumph complete, one who had +hitherto found no charms in America worthy his homage, bowed at her +shrine. This was Mr. Derwent, an Englishman of high birth and large +fortune, whose elegant exterior, and the perfect _savoir faire_ which +marked his manners, made him at Saratoga, + + "The observed of all observers, + The glass of fashion and the mould of form." + +Mr. Trevanion looked on with scarcely concealed delight. + +"Why, father! do you wish to see Lilian leave us for England?" cried +Anna Trevanion, to whom he had expressed his satisfaction. + +"Certainly, my daughter, if only in that way I can see her take that +position which is hers by inheritance, and from which only her father's +misfortunes have estranged her." + +But Mr. Trevanion's hopes of so desirable a termination of his cares for +Lilian faded, as he saw the reserve with which she met the attentions of +her admirers--not excepting even the admired Mr. Derwent. + +"Among the beauties at this place, Miss L---- D----, the ward of Mr. +T----, stands unrivalled. She is an heiress as well as a beauty, but the +report is that both the fortune and the beauty are to be borne to +another land, in the possession of the Honorable Mr. D----, whose +personal qualities, united to his station and fortune, render him, in +the opinion of the ladies at least, irresistible." + +Such was the paragraph in a New-York daily paper, which Mr. Trevanion +one morning handed to Lilian with a smile. She read it silence, and laid +it down without a comment, except that which was furnished by the proud +erection of her figure, and the almost scornful curl of her lip. + +When next she met Mr. Derwent, Mr. Trevanion's eye was on her, for he +thought, "She cannot preserve her perfect indifference of manner with +the consciousness that their names have been thus associated." He was +mistaken. The color on Lilian's cheek deepened not at Mr. Derwent's +approach, nor did her hand tremble as she laid it upon the arm he +offered in attending her to dinner. "Her heart must be already +occupied," said Mr. Trevanion to himself, and perhaps he was right in +believing that nothing but a deep and true affection--one which was +founded on no adventitious circumstances, but on the immovable basis of +esteem--could have enabled her to resist the blandishments which +surrounded her in her present position. But she did resist them, and +still, from the luxurious elegancies, the gay entertainments and the +flatteries of fashionable life, her heart turned with undiminished +tenderness to the tranquil shades of Mossgiel, and still paid there its +willing homage to the loftiest intellect and the noblest heart, in her +estimation, with which earth was blessed. + +September, with its cool, invigorating freshness, had come, when Mr. +Trevanion's family returned to the city. To Lilian's great, though +unspoken disappointment, the children met them there, and no thought +seemed to be entertained of a visit to the country. Carefully she had +kept the date of Mr. Grahame's conversation, in which he had demanded +that she should make a six months' trial of life, freed from the +associations which her early poverty had fastened on her. In a few weeks +after her return to New-York, the six months were completed. On the day +preceding its exact completion, Lilian expressed to Mr. Trevanion her +wish to visit Mossgiel. "It is now six months," she said with a blush +and a smile, "since I saw Mr. Grahame." + +Whatever might have been Mr. Trevanion's wishes for his ward, he had +neither the right nor the will to control her actions, and he not only +consented to her going, but went down with her himself to Trevanion +Hall, where they arrived late in the evening. + +Lilian knew that the inhabitants of Mossgiel kept early hours, and the +gay pink and blue and white convolvuluses, which arched the rude gate +leading from the more public road into the rural lane by which their +house was approached, had just unfolded their petals, when she rode +through it on the morning succeeding her arrival at Trevanion Hall. She +had declined the attendance of a servant, and set off at a brisk canter, +but soon reined in her horse and proceeded at a slower pace. Hope and +fear were busy at her heart. Six months! What changes might not have +taken place in that time! Again Lilian touched her horse with her light +riding-whip, and rode briskly on till she reached the gate of which we +have spoken. Here she alighted to open the gate. As she entered the lane +she saw, not far in advance of her, a boy who had been hired to assist +Mr. Grahame in the garden. She called to him, and giving him her bridle +to lead her horse to the stable, walked on herself towards the house, +which was little more than a hundred yards distant. After walking a few +steps, she turned to ask, "Are Mr. and Mrs. Grahame well?" + +Another question trembled on her lips--but she could not speak it. "If +_he_ love me, he will be here," she whispered to herself, and again +passed on. The road wound around the house, and led to the entrance on +the river front. There was a side gate leading to the garden, and there, +at that hour, Lilian knew she would most probably meet the elder Mr. +Grahame, while his wife was almost certain to be found in the dairy, to +which the same gate would give her access; but the gate was passed with +a light, quick step, and Lilian entered the house at the front. With a +fluttering heart, but a steady purpose, she passed on, without meeting +any one, or hearing a sound, to the usual morning room. The door was +open; she entered, and her heart throbbed exultingly, for _he_ was +there. Michael Grahame sat at a table writing. His back was towards the +door, and her light step had given no notice of her presence. Agitated +by a thousand commingled emotions, wishing, yet dreading to meet his +eye, she stood gazing on his face as it was reflected in an opposite +mirror. It seemed to her paler and graver than of yore. Manhood had +stamped its lines more deeply on the brow since last they parted. But +some movement, a sigh, perhaps, from her, has startled him. He raises +his head, and in the mirror their eyes meet. In that glance her whole +soul has been revealed, and with one glad cry of "Lilian! my Lilian!" he +turns, and she is folded in his arms. + +There was no more doubt, no more fear, on her part--no concealment on +his. She had chosen freely and nobly, and she was rewarded by love as +deep, as devoted, and as unselfish as ever woman inspired, or man felt. + +The marriage of Lilian, which took place in three months after her +return to Mossgiel, could not but excite some interest in the world in +which she had so lately occupied a conspicuous place. When, however, to +the great question--"Who is this Mr. Grahame?" the answer, "Nothing but +a mechanic," was received--the interest soon faded away, and in the +winter Lilian found herself in New-York, with scarcely an acquaintance, +except the Trevanions, and she could easily perceive that something of +pity was mingled with their former kindness. Yet never had Lilian been +less an object of pity. Every day increased not only her affection to +her husband, but her pride in him, by revealing to her more of his high +powers and noble qualities. Those powers had received a new spring from +his desire to prove himself worthy of his cherished wife. He had long +been occupied with a problem whose solution, he believed, would enable +him to increase greatly both the speed and safety of steam navigation. +In the early part of the winter succeeding his marriage, with a glad +spirit, with which Lilian fully sympathized, he cried "Eureka." Before +the winter concluded he had been to Washington, and explaining to the +officers of our own government the importance of his invention, sought +permission to test it on a government vessel. After many delays, with +that short-sighted policy which cannot look beyond the present expense +to the overpaying results, the proposition was declined. During his stay +in Washington, his object had become noised abroad, and the Russian +Minister had opened a correspondence with him and with his own court on +the subject. The result of this correspondence was, that in the +following spring Michael Grahame sailed for Russia, to test his +invention first in the service of its emperor. He was accompanied by +Lilian. Their departure and its object were talked of for awhile, but +soon ceased to be remembered, except by men of science, and those +immediately interested in the result of his experiment. + +In the mean time Anna Trevanion married. Her husband, Mr. Walker, was a +man of large property, and of social position equal to her own. They +spent the first two years of their married life abroad. It was in the +second of these two years, and when Lilian had been four years in St. +Petersburgh, that Mr. and Mrs. Walker entered that city. One of their +first inquiries of the American Minister was, "What Americans are here?" +and at the head of the list he presented, stood Mr. and Mrs. Grahame. +"And who are Mr. and Mrs. Grahame?" asked Mr. Walker. "You say they are +from New-York, and I remember no such names of any consequence in +society there." + +"I do not know what their consequence was there, but I assure you it is +as great here as the partiality of the Emperor, the favor of the +Imperial family, and their association with the highest rank, can make +it." + +"But how did people unknown at home work themselves into such a +position?" + +"They did not work themselves into it all--they took it at once, by the +only right which Americans have to any position abroad--the right of +their own fitness for it. Mr. Grahame, besides his high attainments in +science, and his skill in mechanics, which first introduced him to the +Emperor, is a man of fine appearance, of very extensive information, and +very agreeable manners, and Mrs. Grahame is one of the most beautiful +and cultivated women I know. I repeat, you cannot enter society here +under better auspices than theirs." + +And thus the long-severed friends met in reversed positions; and if +something of triumph did flash from Lilian's eyes, as she saw her +husband, day after day, procuring from the Emperor's favor, privileges +for Mr. and Mrs. Walker, not often enjoyed by strangers, her triumph was +for him, and may be excused. + +After eight years spent in Russia, during which he had acquired fortune +as well as fame, Michael Grahame returned to America, with his wife and +three lovely children, and retired to a beautiful country seat within a +mile of Mossgiel, purchased and furnished for him during his absence. +His father still cultivates his garden, though he has ceased to sell its +produce, and through those flowery walks Lilian and her husband still +delight to wander, recalling the happy memories with which they are +linked, with grateful and adoring hearts. + +"I shall never object again to any woman in whom I am interested, +marrying the man of her choice, because he is only a mechanic," said +Mrs. Trevanion to her husband, as they were returning one day from a +visit to Mr. and Mrs. Grahame. + +"There, my dear, in those words, _only a mechanic_, lies our mistake, +the world's mistake, in such matters. No man is _only_ what his trade, +his profession, or his position in life makes him. Every man is +something besides this, something by force of his own inherent personal +qualities. By these the true man is formed, and by these he should be +judged." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Again we were all assembled in the parlor in which so many of our +cheerful evenings had been spent, but a shadow seemed to have fallen on +our little circle. The New-Year was now close in its approach, and +immediately after the commencement of the New-Year we must separate. Mr. +and Mrs. Dudley, with their children, and Mr. and Mrs. Seagrove, with +theirs, and Mr. Arlington and I, must all leave within a day or two of +each other, and a year, with all its chances and changes, will probably +intervene before we meet again. The very thought, as I have said, threw +a shadow upon us; but Col. Donaldson, who is a most inveterate foe to +sadness, would not suffer us to yield unresistingly to its influence. If +our time was short, the greater the necessity for crowding enjoyment +into its every moment, he said: we could spare none of it for +lamentations. + +"Now, Aunt Nancy," he continued, "if I am not mistaken, you can match +Mr. Arlington's story with one quite as romantic, of an extraordinary +marriage in high life. Do you remember Lady Houstoun and her son Edward +Houstoun--" + +"Oh, yes!" I cried, interrupting him, "and the beautiful Lucy Watson +too." + +"Then I am sure you must have their story somewhere in your bundle of +romances." + +"I believe I have," I replied, as opening my desk I drew out package +after package, the amusement of many an hour, which but for such a +resource might have been sad in its loneliness. Some were looking fresh +and new, and others yellow from age. Among the latter was that for which +I was searching, and which Annie insists that I shall give to the +reader, under the title of + + +LOVE AND PRIDE. + +A proud and stately dame was Lady Houstoun, as she continued to be +called after the independence of America had rendered such titles +valueless in our land. Sir Edward Houstoun was an English baronet, whose +estates had once been a fit support to his ancient title, but whose +family had suffered deeply, both in purse and person, by their loyalty +to Charles the First, and yet more by their obstinate adherence to his +bigot son, James II. By a marriage with Louisa Vivian, an American +heiress possessed of broad lands and a large amount of ready money, Sir +Edward acquired the power of supporting his rank with all the splendor +that had belonged to his family in the olden time; but circumstances +connected with the poverty of his early years had given the young +baronet a disgust to his own circle, which was not alleviated by the +rapid changes effected by his newly-acquired wealth, and he preferred +returning to America with his young bride, and adopting her country as +his own. Here wealth sufficient for their most extravagant desires was +theirs--houses in New-York, and fertile acres stretching far away from +the city, now sweeping for many a rood the banks of the fair Hudson, and +now reaching back into the rich lands that lie east of that river. When +the separation of this country from England came, the representative of +her most loyal family, whose motto was "_Dieu et mon Roi_" was found in +the ranks of republican America. "He could not," he said, "recognize a +divine right in the House of Hanover to the throne of the Stuarts, or +justify by any human reason the blind subservience of Americans to the +ruinous enactments of an English parliament, controlled by a rash and +headstrong minister and a wayward king." Ten years after the +proclamation of peace Sir Edward died, leaving one son who had just +entered his twentieth year. + +Young as Edward Houstoun was, he had a man's decision of character; and +when the question of his assuming his father's title, and claiming the +estates attached to it in England, was submitted to him, he replied that +"his proudest title was that of an American citizen, and he would not +forfeit that title to become a royal duke." He could therefore inherit +only his father's personal property, consisting principally of plate, +jewels and paintings. The property thus received was all which the young +Edward Houstoun could call his own. All else was his mother's, and +though it would doubtless be his at her death, the Lady Houstoun was not +one to relinquish the reins of government before that inevitable hour +should wrest them from her hand. She made her son a very handsome +allowance, however, and, with a higher degree of generosity than any +pecuniary grant could evince, she never attempted to control his +actions, suffering him to enjoy his sports in the country and amusements +in the city without constraint. The Lady Houstoun was a wise woman, as +well as an affectionate mother. She saw well that her son's independent +and proud nature might be attracted by kindness to move whither she +would, while the very appearance of constraint would drive him in an +opposite direction. On one subject he greatly tried her forbearance--the +unbecoming levity, as she esteemed it, with which he regarded the +big-wigged gentlemen and hooped and farthingaled ladies whose portraits +ornamented their picture gallery. For only one of these did Edward +profess the slightest consideration. This was that of the simple +soldier whose gallantry under William the Conqueror had laid the +foundation of his family fortunes and honors. + +"Dear mother," said he one day, "what proof have we that those other +fine gentlemen and ladies deserved the wealth and station which, through +his noble qualities, they obtained?" + +"Sir James Houstoun, my son, who devoted life and fortune to his king--" + +"Pardon me, noble Sir James," interrupted Edward, bowing low and with +mock gravity to the portrait, "I will place you and your stern-looking +son there at your side next in my veneration to our first ancestor. Yet +you showed that, like me, you had little value for wealth or station." + +"Edward!" ejaculated Lady Houstoun, in an accent of displeasure, "that +we are willing to sacrifice a possession at the call of duty does not +prove us insensible of its value." + +"Nay, mother mine, speak not so gravely, but acknowledge that you would +be prouder of your boy if you saw him by his own energies winning his +way to distinction from earth's lowliest station, than you can be of him +now--idler as he is." + +"There is no less merit, Edward, in using aright the gifts which we +inherit, than in acquiring them. There is as much energy, I can assure +you, demanded in the proper management of large estates, and the right +direction of the influence derived from station--ay, often more energy, +the exercise of higher powers, than those by which a fortunate soldier, +in time of war, may often spring in a day from nameless poverty to +wealth and rank." + +The Lady Houstoun's still fine figure was elevated to its utmost height +as she spoke, and her dark eye flashed out from beneath the shadow of +the deep borders of her widow's cap. A stranger would have gazed on her +with admiration, but her son turned away with a slight shrug of the +shoulders and a curling lip, as he said to himself, "My mother may feel +all this, for she manages the estates, and she bestows the +influence--while I _amuse myself_. Mother," he added aloud, "they say +there is fine sport in the neighborhood of the Glen, and I should like +to see the place. I will take a party thither next week, if you will +write to your farmer to prepare the house for us." + +"I will, Edward, certainly, if you desire it, but it has been so long +since any of us were there, that I fear you will find the house very +uncomfortable." + +"So much the better, if it give us a little variety in our smooth lives. +I dare say we shall all like it very much. I shall, at least, and if the +rest do not, they can return." + +The Glen was a wild rural spot among the Highlands, where Sir Edward had +delighted occasionally to spend a few weeks with his wife and child and +one or two chosen friends, in the enjoyment of country sports. For +several years before his father's death, Edward had been too much +engaged in his collegiate studies to share these visits. During the +three years which had passed since that event, neither Lady Houstoun nor +her son had visited the Glen, and it was not without emotion that she +heard him name his intention of taking a party thither; but she offered +no opposition to the plan, and in a little more than a week he was +established in the comfortable dwelling-house there, with Walter Osgood; +Philip Van Schaick, and Peter Schuyler, companions who were soon +persuaded to leave the somewhat formal circles of the city for a few +days of adventure in the country. They had arrived late in the night, +and wearied by fifteen hours' confinement on board a small sloop, the +visitors slept late the next morning, while Edward Houstoun, haunted by +tender memories, was early awake and abroad. Standing in the porch, he +looked forth through the gray light of the early dawn on hill and dale +and river, endeavoring to recall the feelings with which he had gazed +on them seven years before. Then he was a boy of scarcely sixteen, +eager only for the holiday sport or the distinction of the +school-room--now, he stood there--a boy still, his heart indignantly +pronounced, though he had numbered nearly twenty-three years. Edward +Houstoun was beginning to wake to somewhat of noble scorn in viewing his +own position--beginning to feel that to amuse himself was an object +hardly worthy a _man's_ life. Turning forcibly from such thoughts, he +sprang down the steps, and pursued a path leading by the orchard and +through a flowery lane, towards the dwelling of the farmer to whom the +management of the Glen had been intrusted, first by Sir Edward and +afterwards by Lady Houstoun. The sun was just touching with a sapphire +tint the few clouds that specked the eastern sky; the branches of the +wild rose and mountain laurel which skirted the lane on the right were +heavy with the dews of night, and the birds seemed caroling their +earliest song in the orchard and clover-field on the left, yet the +farmer's horses were already harnessed to the wagon, and through the +open door of the house Edward Houstoun as he approached caught a glimpse +of Farmer Pye himself and his men seated at breakfast. As he was not +perceived by them, he passed on, without interrupting them, to the +dairy, where the good dame was busy with her white pails and bright +pans. A calico bonnet with a very deep front concealed his approach from +Mrs. Pye until he stood beside her; but there was one within the dairy +who saw him, and whose coquettish movement in snatching from her glossy +brown ringlets a bonnet of the same unbecoming shape with that of Mrs. +Pye, did not escape his observation. + +"Well, now--did I ever see the like! Why, Mr. Edward, you've grown clean +out of a body's memory--but after all, nobody couldn't help knowing you +that ever seen your papa, good gentleman--how much you are like him!" + +Thus ran on Dame Pye, while Edward, except when compelled by a question +to attend to her, was wondering who the fair girl could be, who was +separated from her companion not less by the tasteful arrangement of her +dress--simple and even coarse as it was in its material--and by a +certain grace of movement, than by her delicate beauty. Her form was +slender in proportion to its height, yet gave in its graceful outline +promise of a development "rich in all woman's loveliness;" and her face, +with its dark starry eyes, its clear, transparent skin, and rich, waving +curls of glossy brown, recalled so vividly to Edward Houstoun's memory +his favorite description of beauty, that he repeated almost audibly:-- + + "One shade the more, one ray the less, + Had half impair'd the nameless grace + That waves in every glossy tress, + Or softly lightens o'er her face, + Where thoughts serenely sweet express + How pure, how dear their dwelling-place." + +His admiration, if not audible, was sufficiently evident to its +object--at least so we interpret her tremulous and uncertain movements, +the eloquent blood which glowed in her cheeks, and the mistakes which at +length aroused Mrs. Pye's attention. + +"Why, Lucy! what under the sun and earth's the matter with you, child? +Dear--dear--to go putting the cream into the new milk, instead of +emptying it into the churn! There--there--child--better go in now--I'll +finish--and just tell Mr. Pye that Mr. Edward is here," said Mrs. Pye, +fearful of some new accident. + +The discarded bonnet was put on with a heightened color, and the young +girl moved rapidly yet gracefully toward the house. + +"I did not remember you had a daughter, Mrs. Pye," said Edward Houstoun, +as she disappeared. + +"And I haven't a daughter--only the two boys, Sammy and Isaac--good big +boys they are now, and help their father quite some--but this girl's +none of mine, though I'm sure I love her 'most as well--she's so pretty +and nice, and has such handy ways, though what could have tempted her to +put the cream in the new milk just now, I'm sure I can't tell." + +"But who is she, Mrs. Pye?" + +"Who is she? Why, sure, and did you never hear of Lucy Watson? Oh! +here's Mr. Pye." + +Edward Houstoun was too much interested in learning something more of +Lucy Watson, not to find a sufficient reason for lingering behind the +farmer, who was impatient to be in his hay-field. Mrs. Pye was +communicative, and he soon learned all she knew--that Lucy was the +daughter of a soldier belonging to a company commanded by Sir Edward +Houstoun during the war--that this soldier had received his death-wound +in defending his commander from a sword-cut, and that Sir Edward had +always considered his widow and only child as his especial charge. The +widow had soon followed her husband to the grave, and the child had been +placed by Sir Edward with the wife of a country clergyman. To Mr. and +Mrs. Merton, Lucy had been as an own and only daughter. + +"The good old people made quite a lady of her," said Mrs. Pye. "She can +read and write equal to the parson himself, and I've hearn folks say +that her 'broidery and music playin' was better than Mrs. Merton's own; +but, poor thing! Mrs. Merton died, and still the parson begged Sir +Edward to let her stay with him--she was all that was left now, he +said--so Sir Edward let her stay. Mr. Merton died a year ago, and when +Mr. Pye wrote to the lady--that's your mother, Mr. Edward--about her, +she said she'd better come here and stay with us, and she would pay her +board, and give her money for clothes, and five thousand dollars beside, +whenever she should get married. I'm sure she's welcome to stay, if it +was without pay, for we all love her, but, somehow, it don't seem the +right place for her--and, as to marrying, I don't think she'll ever +marry any body around her, for, kind-spoken as she is, they wouldn't any +of them dare to ask her, though they're all in love with her beautiful +face." + +In a week Edward Houstoun's friends had grown weary of ruralizing--they +found no longer any music in the crack of a fowling-piece, or any +enjoyment in the dying agonies of the feathered tribes, and, having +resisted all their persuasions to return with them, he was left alone. + +"I shall report you as love-sick, or brain-sick, reclining by purling +streams, under shady groves, to read Shakspeare, or Milton, or Spenser, +for each of these books I have seen you at different times put in your +pocket, and wander forth with a most sentimental air--doubtless to make +love to some Nymph or Dryad." + +"Make love! Ah! there, I take it, you have winged the right bird, Van +Schaick." + +"If I had seen a decent petticoat since we took leave of Mynheer Van +Winkle and his daughter, on board the good sloop St. Nicholas, I should +think so too, Osgood." + +"At any rate, it would be wise to report our suspicions to his lady +mother." + +"Your suspicions of what--lunacy or love?" asked Edward Houstoun. + +"A distinction without a difference--they are equivalent terms." + +Thus jested his friends, and thus jested Edward Houstoun with them--well +assured that no gleam of the truth had shined on them--that they never +supposed his visits at Farmer Pye's possessed any greater attraction +than could be derived from the farmer's details of improvements made at +the Glen, of the increased value of lands, or the proceeds of the last +year's crop. They had never seen Lucy Watson, and how could they suspect +that while the farmer smoked his pipe at the door, and the good dame +bustled about her household concerns, he sat watching with enamored eyes +the changes of a countenance full of intelligence and sensibility, and +listening with charmed ears to a soft, musical voice recounting, with +all the simple eloquence of genuine feeling, obligations to the father +whose memory was with him almost an idolatry. Still less could they +divine that Shakspeare, and Milton, and Spenser were indeed often read +beside a purling stream, and within the dense shadow of a grove of oak +and chestnut-trees--not to Nymph or Dryad, but to a "mortal being of +earth's mould," + + "A creature not too bright or good + For human nature's daily food, + For simple pleasures, harmless wiles, + For love, blame, kisses, tears and smiles." + +Here, one afternoon, a fortnight after the departure of his friends, sat +Edward Houstoun with Lucy at his side. They had lingered till the +sunlight, which had fallen here and there in broken and changeful gleams +through over-arching boughs, touching with gold the ripples at their +feet, had faded into that + + "mellow light + Which heaven to gaudy day denies." + +Edward Houstoun held a book in his hand, but it had long been closed, +while he was engaged in a far more interesting study. He had with a +delicate tact won his companion to speak as she had never spoken before +of herself--not of the few events of her short life, for these were +already known to him, but of the influence of those events on feeling +and character. Tenderness looked forth without disguise from the earnest +eyes which were fastened on her, as he said, "You say, Lucy, that you +have found friends every where, have met only kindness, and yet you +weep--you are sad." + +"Do not think me ungrateful," she replied. "I have indeed found friends +and kindness--but these give exercise only to my gratitude--stronger, +tenderer affections I have, which no father, or mother, or brother, or +sister, will ever call forth." + +"Nay, Lucy, were you not adopted by my father, and am I not your +brother?" + +A glance whose brightness melted into tears was her only answer. + +"Fie! fie! tears again? I shall have to scold my sister," said Edward +Houstoun. "What complaint can you make now that I have found you a +brother?" + +Lucy laughed, but soon her face grew grave, and, after a thoughtful +pause, she said, "I believe those cannot be quite happy who feel that +they have nothing to do in the world. Better be the poorest drudge, with +powers fitted to your station, than to be as I am, an idler--a mere +looker-on at the world." + +"Why, Lucy! what else am I?" + +"You! You, with fortune to bless, and influence to guide hundreds! +What are you? God's representative to your less fortunate +fellow-creatures--the steward of his bounty. Oh! be sure that you use +your gifts faithfully." + +Lucy spoke solemnly, and it was with no light accent that Edward +Houstoun replied--"You mistake, Lucy--you mistake--I am in truth no less +an idler than yourself--a looker-on, with no part in the game of life. +To the Lady Houstoun belong both the fortune and the influence." A +mocking smile had arisen to his lip, but, as he caught her look of +surprise, it passed away, leaving a gentle gravity in its place, while +he continued--"Do not think I mean to complain of my mother, Lucy. She +has been ever affectionate and indulgent to me. She leaves me no want +that she can perceive. My purse is always full, and my actions +unrestrained. I suppose I ought to be happy." + +"And are you not happy?" + +"No, Lucy, no! There has long been a vague restlessness and +dissatisfaction about me--and, now, your words have thrown light on its +cause. I am weary of the perpetual holiday which life has been to me +since I left the walls of a college. I want to be doing--I want an +object--something for which to strive and hope and fear--what shall it +be, Lucy?" + +"I have heard Mr. Merton say that no one could choose for another his +aims in life, but were I choosing for myself, it should be something +that would connect me with the minds of others--something by which I +could do service to their spiritual beings. Were I a man, I should like +to write books--such books as would give counsel and comfort to erring +and sad hearts--" + +Edward Houstoun shook his head--"Even had I an author's gifts, Lucy, +that would not do for me--I must have action in my life--" + +"What say you to the pulpit?" + +"The noblest of all employments, Lucy--but it is a heavenly employment +and needs a heavenly spirit. I would not dare to think of that. Try +again--" + +"The law? Ah! now I see I have chosen rightly--you will be a lawyer--a +great lawyer, like Mr. Patrick Henry." + +"You have spoken, Lucy--and I will do my best to fulfil your prophecy. I +may not be a Patrick Henry--two such men belong not to one age--but I +may at least hew out for myself a place among men, where I may stand +with a man's freedom of thought and action. The very decision has +emancipated me--has emboldened me to speak what a moment since I +scarcely dared to think--nay, turn not from me, beloved--oh how +passionately beloved! Life has now its object for me, Lucy--your +love--for that I will strive--hope--whisper me that I need not +fear--that when I have a right to claim my bride--" + +When Edward Houstoun commenced this passionate apostrophe, he had +clasped Lucy's hand, and, overcome by his emotions and her +own--forgetting all but his love--conscious only of a bewildering +joy--she had suffered it to rest for one instant in his clasp. It was +but for one instant--the next, struggling from him as he strove to +retain her, she started to her feet, and stood leaning against the trunk +of the tree that overshadowed them, with her face hidden by her clasped +hands. He rose and drew near, saying, in low, tremulous tones--"Lucy, +what means this?" + +"Mr. Houstoun," she exclaimed, removing her hands from her face, and +wringing them in passionate sorrow--"how could you speak those words?" + +"Wherefore should I not speak them--are they so terrifying to you, +Lucy?" + +"Can they be otherwise, since they must separate us for ever? Think you +that the Lady Houstoun would endure that the creature of her bounty +should become the wife of her son?" + +"I asked, Lucy, that you would promise to be mine when I had won a right +to act independently of the Lady Houstoun's opinions." + +"Has a son ever a right to act independently of a mother?" + +"Is the obedience of a child to be exacted from a man? Is his happiness +ever to be at the mercy of another's prejudices? Does there never come a +period when he may be permitted to judge for himself?" + +Edward Houstoun spoke with indignant emphasis. + +"Look not so sternly--speak not so angrily," exclaimed Lucy. "I cannot +answer your questions--but my obligations, at least, are +irreversible--they belong to the irrevocable past, and while I retain +their memory I can never--" + +"Hush--hush, Lucy! you will drive me mad. Is my happiness of less value +in your eyes than the few paltry dollars my mother expended for you?" + +"Shall I, serpent-like, sting the hand that has fed me? No! no! would I +had never heard those words. We were so happy--you will be happy +again--but I--leave me, I pray you, for we must part now and for +ever--oh! leave me." + +"No, Lucy, we will never part--I will never leave you." + +He would again have drawn her to his side, but at his touch, Lucy roused +herself, and with a wild, half-frenzied effort, breaking from him, she +rushed rapidly, blindly forward. He would have followed her, but +stumbling against the root of a tree, before he could recover himself +she was at the outskirts of the wood, in sight of the farm-house, and +though he might overtake he could not detain her. He returned home, not +overwhelmed with disappointment, but with joy throbbing at his heart, +and hope beaming in his eyes. Lucy loved him--of that he felt +assured--and bucklered by that assurance he could stand against the +world. Life was before him--a life not of sickly pleasures and _ennui_ +breeding indolence--but a life of contest and struggle and labor, +perhaps even of exhausting labor, yet a life which should awaken and +discipline his powers: a life of victory and of repose--sweet because +won with effort--a life to which Lucy's love should give its crowning +joy. Such are youth's dreams. In his case these dreams were somewhat +rudely dispelled by a summons from his mother's physician. Lady Houstoun +was ill--very ill--he must not delay, said the physician; and he did +not; yet a hastily pencilled line told that even at this moment Lucy was +not forgotten--it was a farewell which breathed love and faith and +hope. + +On Edward Houstoun's arrival in New-York, he found his mother already +recovering from the acute attack which had endangered her life and +occasioned his recall. He soon unfolded to her his new views of life, +and the career which he had marked out for himself. New views +indeed--new and incomprehensible to Lady Houstoun! She saw not that the +life of indulgence, the perpetual gala-day, which she anticipated for +her son, would have condemned him to see his highest powers dwindle away +and die in the lethargy of inaction, or to waste in repinings against +fate those energies given to command success. Time moderated her +astonishment, and quiet perseverance subdued her opposition--subdued it +the more readily, perhaps, from the knowledge that her son could +accomplish his designs without her aid, by turning into money the plate, +jewels and pictures received from his father. Edward Houstoun's first +act, after securing the execution of his designs, was to inform Lucy of +the progress he had made. His own absence from New-York at this time +would have excited his mother's surprise, and might have aroused her +suspicions; but the haste with which he had left the Glen furnished him +with a plausible excuse for sending his own man to look after clothing, +books, &c., that had been forgotten, and by him a letter could, he knew, +be safely sent. + +A few days brought back to him his own letter, with the intelligence +that Lucy had left Farmer Pye's family. Whither she had gone, they could +not, or would not tell. Setting all fears at defiance, he went himself +to the Glen--he sounded and examined and cross-examined every member of +the farmer's family; but in vain were his efforts. He learned only that +she had declared her intention of supporting herself by her own +exertions, instead of continuing dependent on the Lady Houstoun--that +she had returned the lady's last donation, through the farmer, with many +expressions of gratitude, and that she had left home for the house of +an acquaintance in New-York, from whom she hoped to receive advice and +assistance in the accomplishment of her intentions. She had mentioned +neither the name nor place of residence of this friend, and though she +had written once to the good farmer, she had only informed him that she +had found a home and employment, without reference to any person or +place. Edward asked to see the letter--it was brought, but the post-mark +told no secret--it was that of the nearest post town, and the farmer, +opening the letter, showed that Lucy had said she had requested the +bearer to drop it into that office. Who that bearer was, none knew. +Bitter was the disappointment of Edward Houstoun. A beautiful vision had +crossed his path, had awakened his noblest impulses, kindled his +passionate devotion, and then vanished for ever. But she had left +ineradicable traces of her presence. His awakened energies, his +passionate longings, his altered life, all gave assurance that she had +been--that the bright ideal of womanly beauty and tenderness, and +gentleness and firmness, which lived in his memory, was no dream of +fancy. He anticipated little pleasure now from the pursuits on which he +had lately determined, but his pride forbade him to relinquish them, and +when once they had been commenced, finding in mental occupation his +Lethe, he abandoned himself to them with all his accustomed ardor. + +Two years passed away with Edward Houstoun in the most intense +intellectual action, and in death-like torpor of the affections. From +the last his mother might have saved him, had not her want of sympathy +with his pursuits occasioned a barrier of reserve and coolness to arise +between them fatal to her influence. During this time no token of Lucy's +existence had reached him: and it was with such a thrill as might have +welcomed a visitant from the dead, that, one morning as he left his own +house to proceed to the office in which he pursued his studies, he saw +before him at some distance, yet without any intervening object to +interrupt his view of her, a form and face resembling hers, though +thinner and paler. The lady was approaching him, with slow and languid +steps; but as her eyes were fixed upon the ground she did not perceive +him, and just as his throbbing heart exclaimed, "It is Lucy," and he +sprang forward to greet her, she entered a house and the door closed on +her. The inmates of that house were but slightly known to him, as they +had only lately moved into the street, yet he hesitated not an instant +in ringing the bell, and inquiring of the servant who presented himself +at the door, for Miss Watson. + +"Miss Watson, sir?" repeated the man, "there is no such person living +here." + +"She may not live here, but I saw her enter your door, and I wish to +speak to her." At this moment Lucy crossed the hall at its further end, +and he sprang forward, exclaiming "Lucy--Miss Watson--thank Heaven I see +you once more!" + +A slight scream from Lucy, and the tremor which shook her frame, showed +her recognition of him. She leaned for an instant against the wall, too +faint for speech or action, while he clasped her hand in his; but a +voice broke in upon his raptures and her agitation--a sharp, angry +voice, coming from a lady who, leaning over the balustrade of the +stairs, had seen and heard all that was passing below. + +"Lucy--Lucy--come up here--I am waiting for you--this is certainly very +extraordinary conduct--very extraordinary indeed." + +"You shall not go," said Edward Houstoun, while the red blood flushed to +his brow at the thought that his Lucy could be thus ordered. Lucy's face +glowed too, and there was a proud flush from her eye, yet she resisted +his efforts to detain her, and when he placed himself before her to +prevent her leaving him, she opened a door near her, and though he +followed her quickly through it, he was just in time to see her rushing +up a private staircase. He would not leave the house without an +interview, and going into one of the parlors, he rang the bell, and +requested to see Mrs. Blakely, the lady of the house. She came, looking +very haughty and very angry. He apologized for his intrusion, but +expressed a wish to see a young lady, Miss Watson, who was, he +perceived, under her care. With a yet haughtier air, Mrs. Blakely +replied, "I am not acquainted with any young _lady_ of the name of +Watson. Lucy Watson, the girl whom you met in the hall just now--is my +seamstress. If you wish to see her, I will send her down to you, though +I do not generally allow my servants to receive their visitors here." + +"I shall be happy to see her wherever you please," was Edward Houstoun's +very truthful reply. + +Mrs. Blakely left him, and he stationed himself at the door to watch for +Lucy. Minutes, which seemed to him hours, passed, and she came not. At +length, as he was about to ring again, steps were heard approaching; he +turned quickly, but it was not Lucy. The girl who entered handed him a +sealed note. He tore it open and read--"I dare not see you. When you +receive this I shall have left the house, and, as no one knows whither I +have gone, questions would be useless." + +In an instant he was in the street, looking with eager eyes hither and +thither for some trace of the lost one. He looked in vain, yet he went +towards his office with happier feelings than he had long known. He knew +now where Lucy was, and a thousand expedients suggested themselves, by +which he could not fail to see her. If he could only converse with her +for a few minutes, he was assured he could prevail on her to leave her +present position, of which he could not for a moment bear to think. His +heart swelled, his brow flushed, whenever the remembrance of that +position flashed upon his mind, yet he never for an instant regarded it +as changing his relations with Lucy, or lessening his desire to call her +his. He recollected with pleasure two circumstances which had scarcely +been remarked at the moment of their occurrence. The man who had opened +the door to him, when he saw him spring forward to meet Lucy, had +exclaimed, "Oh! it was _Miss_ Lucy you meant, sir;" and the girl who had +handed the note had said, "_Miss_ Lucy has gone out, sir." It was +evident she was not regarded by the servants as one of themselves--she +had not been degraded by association with menials. This was true. Lucy +had made such separation on her part an indispensable necessity, and +Mrs. Blakely had been too sensible of the value of one possessing so +much taste and skill in all feminine adornments, to hesitate about +complying with her demand. This lady was one of the _nouveaux riches_, +who occupied her life in scheming to attain a position to which neither +birth nor education entitled her. The brightest dream connected with her +present abode had been that its proximity to Lady Houstoun's residence +might lead to an acquaintance with one of the proudest of that charmed +circle in which Mrs. Blakely longed to tread. Hitherto this had proved a +dream indeed, but Edward Houstoun's incursion into her domain, and the +developments made by it, might, she thought, with a little address, +render it a reality. It was with this purpose that she sent a note to +Lady Houstoun, requesting an interview with her on a subject deeply +connected with the honor of her family and the happiness of her son. +Immediately on despatching this note, the servants were ordered to +uncover the furniture in the drawing-room, while she herself hastened to +assume her most becoming morning dress. Her labors were fruitless. "Lady +Houstoun would be at home to Mrs. Blakely till noon," was the scarcely +courteous reply to her carefully worded note. It was an occasion on +which she could not afford to support her pride, and she availed herself +of the permission to call. + +The interview between Lady Houstoun and Mrs. Blakely would have been an +interesting study to the nice observer of character. The efforts on the +part of the one lady to be condescending, and on that of the other to be +dignified, were almost equally successful. Mrs. Blakely had seldom felt +her wealth of so little consequence as in the presence of her commanding +yet simply attired hostess, and Lady Houstoun had never been more +disposed to assert the privileges of her rank, than when she heard that +her son had forgotten his own so far as to visit on terms of +equality--nay, if Mrs. Blakely were to be believed, positively to +address in the style of a lover--a seamstress--the seamstress of Mrs. +Blakely. + +"This is very painful intelligence to me, Mrs. Blakely--of course you +must be aware that Mr. Houstoun could only have contemplated a temporary +acquaintance with this girl. I do not fear that in his most reckless +moment he could have thought of such a _mesalliance_--but this young +woman must be saved--she was a _protege_ of Sir Edward Houstoun, and for +his sake must not be allowed to come to harm--may I trouble you to send +her to me?" + +The request was given very much in the style of a command. Mrs. Blakely +would not confess that she had great doubts of her power to comply with +it, but this would have been sufficiently evident to any one who had +marked the uncertain air and softened tone with which Lady Houstoun's +wishes were made known to Lucy. Indignant as she was at Mrs. Blakely's +impertinent interference, Lucy scarcely regretted Lady Houstoun's +acquaintance with her son's feelings. We do not know that far below all +those acknowledged impulses leading her to comply with the lady's +request, there did not lie some romantic hope that influences were astir +through which + + "Pride might be quell'd and love be free," + +but this she did not whisper even to her own heart. + +"Better that the lady should know all--she will act both wisely and +tenderly--perhaps for her son's sake, she will aid me to leave +New-York." Such was the only language into which she allowed even her +thought silently to form itself. + +Arranging her simple dress with as much care as though she were about to +meet her lover himself, Lucy set out for her interview with Lady +Houstoun. She had but a short distance to traverse, but she lingered on +her way, oppressed by a tremulous anxiety. She was apprehensive of she +knew not what or wherefore--for again and again her heart acquitted her +of all blame. At length she is at the door--it opens, and, with a +courtesy which the servants of Mrs. Blakely never show to a visitor who +comes without carriage or attendants, she is ushered into the presence +of Lady Houstoun. The lady fixes her eyes upon her as she enters, bows +her head slightly in acknowledgment of her courtesy, and says coldly, +"You are the young woman, I suppose, whom Mrs. Blakely was to send to +me?" + +Lucy paused for a moment, to still the throbbing of her heart, before +she attempted to reply. The thought flashed through her mind, "I am a +woman, and young, and therefore she should pity me"--but she answered in +a low, sweet, tremulous tone, "I am the Lucy Watson, madam, to whom Sir +Edward Houstoun was so kind." + +At that name a softer expression stole over the Lady Houstoun's face, +and she glanced quickly at a portrait hanging over the ample fireplace, +which represented a gentleman of middle age, dressed in the uniform of a +colonel of the American army. As she turned her eyes again on Lucy, she +saw that hers were fastened on the same object. + +"You have seen Sir Edward?" she said in gentle tones. + +"Seen him, lady!--I loved him--oh how dearly!" + +"Honored him would be a more appropriate expression." + +"I loved him, lady--we are permitted to love our God," said Lucy, +firmly. + +Lady Houstoun's brow grew stern again.--"And from this you argue, +doubtless, that you have a right to love his son." + +Lucy's pale face became crimson, and she bent her eyes to the ground +without speaking--the lady continued--"I scarcely think that you could +yourself have believed that Edward Houstoun intended to dishonor his +family by a legal connection with you." + +The crimson deepened on Lucy's face, but it was now the flush of pride, +and raising her head she met Lady Houstoun's eyes fully as she +replied--"I could not believe that he ever designed to dishonor himself +by ruining the orphan child of him who died in his father's defence." + +"And you have intended to avail yourself of his infatuation. The menial +of Mrs. Blakely would be a worthy daughter, truly, of a house which has +counted nobles among its members." + +"If I have resisted Mr. Houstoun's wishes--separated myself from him, +and resigned all hope of even looking on his face again, it has not been +from the slightest reverence for the nobility of his descent, but from +self-respect, from a regard to the nobleness of my own spirit. I had +eaten of your bread, lady, and I could not do that which might grieve +you--yet the bread which had cost me so much became bitter to me, and I +left the home you had provided to seek one by my own honest exertions. I +have earned my bread, but not as a menial--not in the companionship of +the vulgar--and this Mrs. Blakely could have told you." + +"If your determination were, as you say, to separate yourself from Mr. +Houstoun, it is unfortunate that you should have taken up your residence +so near us." + +"I knew not until this morning that I was near you." + +"If you are sincere in what you say, you will have no objection now to +leave New-York." + +"I have no objection to go to any place in which I can support myself in +peace." + +"As to supporting yourself, that is of no consequence. I will--" + +"Pardon me, Lady Houstoun, it is of the utmost consequence to me. I +cannot again live a dependent on your bounty." + +"What can you do? Has your education been such that you can take the +situation of governess?" + +"Mr. Merton was a highly educated man, and Mrs. Merton an accomplished +woman--it was their pleasure to teach me, and mine to learn from them." + +"Accomplished! There stands a harp which has just been tuned by a master +for a little concert we are to have this evening. Can you play on it?" + +Lucy drew the instrument to her and played an overture correctly, yet +with less spirit than she would have done had her fingers trembled less. + +"Can you sing?" + +Elevated above all apprehension by the indignant pride which this cold +and haughty questioning aroused, Lucy changed the music of the overture +for a touching air, and, sang, with a rich, full voice, a single stanza +of an Italian song. + +"Italian! Do you understand it?" + +"I have read it with Mr. Merton." + +"This is fortunate. I have been for weeks in search of a governess for a +friend residing in the country. I will order the carriage and take you +there instantly--or stay--return home and put up your clothes. I will +send a coach for you." + +Again Lucy had vanished from Edward Houstoun's world, nor could his most +munificent bribes, nor most active cross-examination win any other +information from Mrs. Blakely's household, than that "Miss Lucy went +away in a carriage"--a carriage whose description presented a _fac +simile_ to every hackney-coach. Spite of all her precautions, he +suspected his mother; to his consciousness of her want of sympathy with +his pursuits, was therefore added a deep sense of injury, and his heart +grew sterner, his manner colder and more reserved than ever. Two years +more were passed in his studies, and a third in the long delays, the +fruitless efforts which mark the entrance on any career of profitable +exertion. During all this time, Lady Houstoun was studious to bring +around him the loveliest daughters of affluence and rank. Graceful forms +flitted through her halls, and the music of sweet voices and the gay +laughter of innocent and happy hearts were heard within her rooms, but +by all their attractions Edward Houstoun was unmoved. Courteous and +bland to all, he never lingered by the side of one--no quick flush, no +flashing beam told that even for a passing moment his heart was again +awake. Could it be that from all this array of loveliness he was guarded +by the memory of her who had stamped the impress of herself on his whole +altered being? If the gratification of the man's sterner ambition could +have atoned for the disappointment of the youth's dream of love, the +shadow of that memory would have passed from his life. Step by step he +had risen in the opinions of men, and at length one of the most profound +lawyers of the day sought his association with himself in a case of the +most intense interest, involving the honor of a lovely and much-wronged +woman. His reputation out of the halls of justice had already become +such that many thronged the court to hear him. Gallant gentlemen and +fair ladies looked down on him from the galleries--but far apart from +these, in a distant corner, sat one whose tall form was enveloped in a +cloak, and whose face was closely veiled. Beneath that cloak throbbed a +mother's heart, and through that veil a mother's eyes sought the face +she loved best on earth. He knew not she was there, for she rarely now +asked a question respecting his engagements, or expressed any interest +in his movements, yet how her ears drank in the music of his voice, and +her eyes flashed back the proud light that shone in his! As she listened +to his delineation of woman's claims to the sympathy and the defence of +every generous heart, as she heard his biting sarcasm on the cowardly +nature that, having wronged, would now crush into deeper ruin his fair +client, as she saw kindling eyes fixed upon him, and caught, when he +paused for a moment exhausted by the rush of indignant feeling, the low +murmur of admiring crowds, how she longed to cry aloud, "My son--my +son!" He speaks again. Higher and higher rises his lofty strain, bearing +along with it the passions of the multitude. He ceases--and, as though +touched by an electric shock, hundreds spring at once to their feet. The +emphatic "Silence!" of the venerable judge hushes the shout upon their +lips, but the mother has seen that movement, and, bursting into tears of +proud triumphant joy, she finds her way below, and is in the street +before the verdict which his eloquence had won was pronounced. + +Edward Houstoun had fitted up a room in his mother's house as a study, +and over his accustomed seat hung his father's portrait. To that room he +went on his return from the scene we have described. Beneath the +portrait stood one who seldom entered there. She turned at the opening +of the door--the lip, usually so firmly compressed, was quivering with +emotion, and those stern eyes were full of tears. She advanced to him, +drew near, and resting her head upon his shoulder whispered, "I, too, am +a woman needing tenderness--shut not your heart against me, my son, for +without you I am alone in the world." + +The proud spirit had bent, the sealed fountain was opened, and as he +clasped his arms around her, the tears of mother and son mingled; but +amidst the joy of this reunion Edward Houstoun felt more deeply than he +had done for long months the desolation that had fallen on his life. His +heart had been silent--it now spoke again, and sad were its tones. + +It is summer. The courts are closed, and all who can are escaping from +the city's heat to the cool, refreshing shades of the country. Woe to +those who remain! The pestilence has stretched her wings over them. The +shadow and the silence of death has fallen on their deserted streets. +The yellow-fever is in New-York--introduced, it is said, by ships from +the West Indies. Before it appeared Edward Houstoun was far away. He was +travelling to recruit his exhausted powers--to Niagara, perhaps into +Canada, and in the then slow progress of news he was little likely to be +recalled by any intelligence from the city. His mother was one of the +first who had sickened. And where were now the fair forms that had +encircled her in health--where the servants who had administered with +obsequious attention to her lightest wish? All had fled, for no +gratified vanity--no low cupidity can give courage for attendance on the +bed of one in whose breath death is supposed to lurk. The devotedness of +love, the self-sacrifice of Christian Charity, are the only impulses for +such a deed. Yet over the sufferer is bending one whose form in its +perfect development has richly fulfilled its early promise, and whose +face is more beautiful in the gentle strength and thoughtfulness of +womanhood than it had been in all its early brightness. In her peaceful +home, where the reverent love of her young pupils and the confidence of +their parents had made her happy, Lucy had heard from one of Lady +Houstoun's terrified domestics of the condition in which she had been +left, and few hours sufficed to bring her to her side. Days and nights +of the most assiduous watchfulness, cheered by no companionship, +followed, and then the physician, as he stood beside his patient and +marked her regular breathing, her placid sleep, and the moisture on her +brow, whispered, "You have saved her." + +We will not linger to describe the emotion with which Lady Houstoun, +awakening from this long and tranquil slumber, exhausted, but no longer +delirious, first recognised her nurse. At first, no doubt, painful +recollections were aroused, but with the feebleness of childhood had +returned much of its gentleness and susceptibility, and Lucy was at once +so tender and so cheerful, that very soon her ministerings were received +with unalloyed pleasure. + +Sickness is a heavenly teacher to those who will open their hearts to +her. Lady Houstoun arose to a new life. She had stood so near to death +that she seemed to have looked upon earth in the light of eternity. In +that light, rank and title, with all their lofty associations and +splendid accompaniments, faded away, while true nobleness, the nobleness +which dwells in the Christian precept "Love your enemies--do good to +those that despitefully use you," stood out in all its beauty and +excellence. + +As soon as Lady Houstoun could be removed with safety, she went, by the +advice of her physician, to her country-seat. Lucy would now have +returned to her pupils--she feared every day lest Edward Houstoun should +appear, and a new contest be necessary with his feelings and her +own--but Lady Houstoun still pleaded her imperfectly restored health as +reason for another week's delay, and Lucy could not resist her +pleadings. + +It was afternoon, and Lucy sat in the library, which was in the rear of +the house, far removed from its public entrance. Spenser's Faery Queen +was in her hand, but she had turned from its witching pages to gaze upon +the title-page, on which was written, in Edward Houstoun's hand, "June +24th, 18--." It was the day, as Lucy well remembered, on which he had +first revealed his love, and chosen his career in life. She was aroused +from her reverie by Lady Houstoun's entrance. As she held the door open, +the bright sunlight from an opposite window threw a shadow on the floor +which made Lucy's heart throb painfully. She looked eagerly forward--a +manly form entered and stood before her. She could not turn from the +pleading eyes which were fixed with such intense earnestness on hers. +With a bewildered half-conscious air she rose from her chair. He came +near her and extended his arms. One glance at the smiling Lady Houstoun +showed Lucy that her interdict was removed, and the next instant she lay +in speechless joy once more upon her lover's bosom. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +We were within three days of the New Year. Mr. Arlington, who was quite +learned on the subject, had been amusing us with an account of its +various modes of celebration in various countries. He was perfectly +brilliant in a description of New-York as seen under the sun of a clear, +frosty New-Year's morning, with snow enough to make the sleighing good. +The gay, fantastic sleighs, dashing hither and thither, and their +exhilarated occupants bowing now on this side and now on that, to +acquaintances rushing by almost too rapidly to be distinguished, while +the silvery bells ring out their merry peals on the still air. Then the +festive array which greets the caller at every house within which he +enters. Beauty adorned with smiles and dress, gayly decorated tables, +brightly burning fires, and every thing seeming to speak the welcome not +of mere form, but of hearty hospitality. There is one aspect in which he +presents this day to us, that is peculiarly pleasing. He says, that many +a slight estrangement, springing from some one of those "trifles" which +"make the sum of human life," has been prevented, by the influence of +this day, from becoming a life-long enmity. Thus the New-Year's day +becomes a Peace-maker, and has on it the blessing of Heaven. Long live +the custom which has made it such! + +"And how shall we celebrate our New-Year?" asked Col. Donaldson. + +"Let us introduce the New-York custom," suggested one. + +"That would not do without some previous agreement with your neighbors," +replied Mr. Arlington, "as their ladies would not probably be prepared +for your visits, and while you were making them, the ladies of your own +family would be left to entertain themselves as they could." + +"That will never do," said Col. Donaldson; "better invite all our +neighbors to visit us on that day. Suppose we give them a dinner?" + +"Oh, papa!" cried Miss Donaldson in dismay. And "My dear husband!" +ejaculated the smiling Mrs. Donaldson, "where would you find room to +accommodate them all?" + +"True--true--we could not dine them in the open air at this season." + +"But there would be no such objection to an evening party," said one of +the young Donaldsons. "We have fine sleighing now, and the moon rises +only a little after eight on New-Year's evening; why not invite them for +the evening." + +"What, another such stiff affair as Annie insisted on entertaining her +friends the Misses Morrison with the last winter, when I saw one of the +poor girls actually clap her hands with delight at the announcement of +her carriage?" + +"Oh, no! Leave it to me, and it shall not be a stiff affair at all. We +will appear in fancy dresses--" + +"My dear Philip!" remonstrated Mrs. Donaldson. + +"Oh! not you, my dear mother, nor my father, unless he should like +it--indeed, it shall be optional with all--but enough, I am sure, will +like to make it an entertaining variety." + +"But where shall we get fancy dresses, distant as we are from the city?" +asked Annie. + +"Leave yours to me, Annie, I have it ready for you," said Philip +Donaldson, with so significant an air, that I at once suspected this +suggestion to have been the result of the arrival on that very day of a +box, addressed to him by a ship from Constantinople, of which he had +hitherto made a great mystery. + +"Thank you, Philip; but you cannot, I suppose, supply all the company, +and I had rather not be the only one in fancy costume, if you please." + +"If mamma will surrender to me the key of that great wardrobe, up +stairs, which contains the brocade dresses, shoe-buckles, knee-buckles, +etc., of our great-grandfathers and grandmothers, I will promise to +supply dresses for our own party, at least, with a little aid from the +needles and scissors." + +"I bar scissors," cried Col. Donaldson. "Those venerable heir-looms--" + +"Shall not lose a shred, sir," said Philip; "the scissors shall only be +used to cut the threads, with which the ladies take in a reef here and +there, when it is necessary." + +"But you have provided only for our party. Are our guests not to be in +costume?" + +"That may be as they please. We will express the wish, and if they have +any ingenuity, they can have no difficulty in getting up some of the +staple characters of such a scene, flower-girls and shepherdesses, +sailors, sultans, and beggars." + +The scheme seemed feasible enough, when thus presented, and had +sufficient novelty to please the young people. It was accordingly +adopted, and the evening was passed in writing invitations, which were +dispatched at an early hour the next morning. The three succeeding days +were days of pleasurable excitement, in preparation for the fete. +Needles and scissors were both in active use, and the brocade dresses +lost, I am afraid, more than one shred in the process of adjusting them +to the figures for which they were now designed. Mrs. Dudley and Mrs. +Seagrove were thus arranged as rival beauties of the court of Queen +Anne. Philip Donaldson, with the aid of a bag-wig, for which Mr. +Arlington has written at his request to a friend, in what city I may +not say, and with some of his father's youthful finery, and the shoe and +knee-buckles aforesaid, will make an excellent beau for these belles. +Col. Donaldson, always ready for any harmless mirth, says they must +accept him in his father's continental uniform for another. Mr. +Arlington makes quite a mystery of his costume, but it is a mystery +already revealed, both to Col. Donaldson and Philip, as I can plainly +perceive by the significant glances they exchange whenever an allusion +is made to it. Robert Dudley is to be a page, Charles Seagrove, a +beautiful boy of six years old, an Oberon, and our little Eva a Titania. +Mrs. Donaldson and I were permitted to appear in our usual dress, and +Miss Donaldson strenuously claimed the same privilege, but it was not +allowed. She resisted all entreaties, even from her favorite brother +Arthur; but when her father gravely regretted her inability to +sympathize with the enjoyments of others, she was overcome. Having +yielded, she yielded entirely, and was willing to wear anything her +sisters wished. As she is considered by them all, even in her +thirty-third year, as the beauty of the family, her dress has been more +carefully studied by them than any other. Every book of costumes within +their reach was searched for it again and again, without success; one +was rich, but unbecoming, another pretty, but it did not suit her style, +and a third all they desired, but unattainable at so short a notice. As +a last resource, my engravings were resorted to, and there, to my own +surprise, they found what satisfied all their demands. One of the +historical prints showed the dress worn in her bridal days by Hotspur's +Kate. Miss Donaldson accepted it thankfully, as being less _bizarre_ +than any yet proposed to her, requiring nothing more than a full skirt +of white satin, a jacket not very unlike the modern Polka, and a bridal +veil. One condition she insisted on, however, namely, that Arthur should +be her Hotspur. To this he consented without difficulty, not without an +eye, I suspect, to the appearance of his tall, erect, graceful form and +bearing in such a dress as Hotspur's. + +The last evening of the Old Year had arrived, our preparations were +completed, and our little party were experiencing something of that +_ennui_ which results from having nothing to do, when, in putting away +the materials lately in use, Annie took up my engraving of Hotspur and +Kate. Handing it to me, she said. "I know these engravings are precious, +Aunt Nancy, though what can be the association with this one, I am, I +acknowledge, at a loss to conceive." + +"And yet it is a very simple one. I treasure it in memory of my friend +Harry Percy and his bride." + +"What! Hotspur?" questioned Annie with dilating eyes. + +"Not quite, though he was a lineal descendant of the old Percys, and hot +enough on occasion, too." + +"You mean Colonel Percy of the British army, who married Miss Sinclair, +of Havre de Grace, during our last war with England, or immediately +after it, I never quite understood which. There seemed some mystery +about the marriage, and I did not like to inquire too closely, but I +dare say now, Aunt Nancy, you can tell us all about it." + +"I believe I can. See Annie, if among these packages you can find one +labelled 'The Test of Love.'" + +"What! another story of a proud beauty winning her glove and losing her +lover?" asked Mr. Arlington. + +"No; my test, or rather my hero's test, was somewhat different," I +replied, as I received the package from Annie, and read, + + +THE TEST OF LOVE: + +A STORY OF THE LAST WAR. + +When Mr. Sinclair, the rector of St John's, in Havre de Grace took +possession of his pretty parsonage, and persuaded the fair and gentle +Lucy Hillman to preside over his unpretending _menage_, and to share the +comforts that lay within the compass of his stipend of one thousand +dollars per annum, he felt that his largest earthly desires were +fulfilled. A daughter was given to him, and with a grateful heart he +exclaimed--"Surely Thou hast made my cup to overflow." + +But he too was a man "born to trouble." He too must be initiated into +those "sacred mysteries of sorrow," through which the High-priest of his +profession had passed. In the succeeding ten years, three other children +opened their soft, loving eyes in his home, made its air musical with +their glad voices and ringing laughter, and just as he had learned to +listen for the pattering of their dimpled foot, and his heart had +throbbed joyously to their call, they were borne from his arms to the +grave, and the echoes which they had awakened in his soul were hushed +for ever. Still his Lucy and their first-born were spared, and as he +drew them closer to his heart he could "lift his trusting eyes" to Him +from whom his faith taught him no real evil could come to the loving +spirit. The shadow of earth had fallen on his heart, but the light of +heaven still beamed brightly there. Years passed with Mr. Sinclair in +that deep quiet of the soul which is "the sober certainty of waking +bliss." His labors were labors of love, and he was welcomed to repose by +all those charms which woman's taste and woman's tenderness can bring +clustering around the home of him to whom her heart is devoted. But a +darker trial than any he had yet known awaited him. + +War is in our borders, and that quiet town in which Mr. Sinclair's life +has passed is destined to feel its heaviest curse. Its streets are +filled with soldiery. The dark canopy of smoke from which now and then a +lurid flame shoots upward, shows that their work is destruction, and +that they will do it well. Terrified women flit hither and thither, +mingling their shrieks in a wild and fiend-like concert with the crack +of musketry, the falling of houses, and the loud huzzas and fierce +outcries of excited men. At a distance from that quarter in which the +strife commenced, stands a simple village church, within whose shadow +many of those who had worshipped in its walls during the last half +century, have lain down to rest from the toils of life. No proud +mausoleum shuts the sunshine from those lowly graves. Drooping elms and +willows bend over them, and the whispering of their long pendent +branches, as the summer breeze sweeps them hither and thither, is the +only sound that breaks the stillness of that hallowed air. Near the +church, on the opposite side from this home of the dead, lies a garden, +whose roses and honey-suckles perfume the air, while its bowers of lilac +and laburnum, of myrtle and jessamine, almost shut from the view the +pretty cottage to which it belongs. All around, all within that cottage, +is silent. Have its inmates fled? + +The neighboring houses have been long deserted, and those who left them +would gladly have persuaded their pastor to accompany them; but when +they called to urge his doing so, he could only point to the bed on +which, already bereft of sense, and evidently fast passing from life, +lay one "all lovely to the last." Mrs. Sinclair's health, delicate for +years, had rapidly failed in the last few months, till her anxious +husband and child, aware that a moment's acceleration of the pulse, a +moment's quickening of the breath from whatever cause, might snatch her +from their arms, learned to modulate every tone, to guard every look and +movement in her presence. But they could not shut from her ears the boom +of the cannon which heralded the approach of the foe--they could not +hush the startling cries with which others met the announcement of their +arrival, and the first evidences of that savage fury which desolated +their homes, and left a dark stain on the escutcheon of Britain. Mrs. +Sinclair uttered no cry when her terrors were thus excited, she even +strove to smile upon her loved ones, to raise their drooping hearts; and +in this, woman's holiest task, the springs of her life gave way--not +with a sudden snap, but slowly, gently--so that for hours her husband +and daughter stood watching the shadow of death steal over her, hoping +yet to catch one glance of love, one whispered farewell ere she should +pass for ever from them. + +"Fear not, my child," said Mr. Sinclair, when their sad vigils were +first interrupted by those who urged their flight--"they are enemies, it +is true, but they are Englishmen, a peaceful clergyman, a defenceless +woman, are safe in their hands--they will not harm us." + +"I have no fear, no thought of them, father!" said Mary Sinclair, as she +turned weeping to the only object of fear, or hope, or thought, at that +moment. + +But soon others of Mr. Sinclair's parishioners came to warn him that his +confidence had been misplaced, that no character, no age, no sex, had +proved a protection from the ruthless fury of their assailants. He would +now have persuaded his daughter to accompany her friends to a place of +safety, and when persuasions proved vain he would have commanded her, +but, lifting her calm eyes to his, she said, "Father have you not taught +me that, in all God's universe, the only safe place for us is that to +which our duty calls us--and is not my duty here?" + +A colder heart would have argued with her, and might, perhaps, have +proved to her that her duty was not there--that her father could watch +the dying, and that it was her duty to preserve herself for him; but Mr. +Sinclair folded her in his arms while his lips moved for an instant in +earnest prayer, and then, turning to his waiting friends, he said, "Go, +go, my friends--I thank you--but God has called us to this, and he will +care for us." + +When the work of desolation had been completed in the quarter first +attacked, parties of soldiers straggled off from the main body in search +of further prey. Fearful was it to meet these men--their faces blackened +with smoke, their hands stained with blood, fierce frowns upon their +brows, and curses on their lips. The parsonage presented little +attraction in its external aspect to men whose object was plunder, and +they turned first to larger and more showy buildings. These were soon +rifled; the noise of their ribald songs, their blasphemous oaths and +drunken revelry penetrating often the chamber of death, yet scarcely +awakening an emotion in the presence of the great Destroyer. At length +the little gate is flung rudely open, and unsteady but heavy steps +ascend from the court-yard to the house. They cross the piazza, they +enter the parlor where life's gentlest courtesies and holiest affections +have hitherto dwelt, the door of the room beyond is thrown open, and two +men stand upon its threshold, sobered for an instant by the scene before +them. There, pale, emaciated, the dim eyes closed, and the face wearing +that unearthly beauty which seems the token of an adieu too fond, too +tender, too sacred for human language, from the parting spirit to its +loved ones, the wife and mother, speechless, senseless, yet not quite +lifeless, lay propped by pillows. At her side knelt Mr. Sinclair; the +pallor of deep, overpowering emotion was on his cheek, yet in his lifted +eyes there was an expression of holy faith, and you might almost have +fancied that a smile lay upon the lips which were breathing forth the +hallowed strains of prayer--"Save and deliver us, we humbly beseech +Thee, from the hands of our enemies, that we, being armed with thy +defence, may be preserved evermore from all perils, to glorify Thee, who +art the only giver of all victory, through the merits of thy Son, Jesus +Christ our Lord--Amen." + +Dark, sinful men as they were, fresh from brutal crime, those strains +touched a long silent chord in their hearts--a chord linked with the +memory of a smiling village in their own distant land--with a mother's +love and the innocence of childhood. Faint--faint, alas! were those +memories, and Mr. Sinclair's "amen" had scarcely issued from his lips, +when the eyes of the leader rested on the beautiful face of Mary +Sinclair, as, pressed to the side of her father, she stretched her arms +out over her dying mother, and turned her eyes imploringly on their +dreaded visitors. The ruffians sprang forward with words whose meaning +was happily lost to the failing sense of the terror-stricken girl. Mr. +Sinclair started to his feet, and with one arm still clasped around his +daughter, stood between her and the worse than murderers before him, +prepared to defend her with his life. For the first time he thirsted for +blood, and looked around for some weapon of destruction--but his was the +abode of peace--no weapon was there. Unarmed, with that loved +burden--loved at this moment even to agony, resting upon him--he stood +opposed to two fierce men armed to the teeth. A father's strength in +such a cause, who shall estimate?--yet, alas! his adversaries were +demons, relentless in purpose, and possessed of that superhuman force +which passion gives. Weary of killing, or influenced by that +superstition which sometimes rules the soul from which religion is +wholly banished, they did not avail themselves of their swords. With +fierce threats they unclasped his arm from that senseless form, which +sank instantly to the floor at his feet, and drew him across the room. +They would have forced him into the parlor, but his resistance was +desperate, and ere they could accomplish this, the sound of a drum +beating the recall was borne faintly to their ears. Leaving his comrade +to hold the wildly struggling father, the bolder ruffian turned back +toward the still prostrate Mary. At that moment, before she had been +polluted by a touch, the door was thrown violently back, and a tall, +manly form strode through it. The gilded epaulettes and drooping feather +told his rank, before the step of pride and countenance of stern command +had conveyed to the mind the conviction that you stood in the presence +of one accustomed to be obeyed. The man who grasped Mr. Sinclair +loosened his hold and shrank cowering away. He went unnoticed, for the +eye of the officer had fallen upon him who was in the act of stooping to +lift Mary Sinclair from the floor. With a single spring he was at his +side, and catching him by the collar of his coat, he hurled him from him +with such force that he fell stunned against the farther wall. Mr. +Sinclair was already bending over his daughter. As he raised her on his +arm her head fell back, exposing her face, around which her dark hair +swept in dense masses. Her features were of chiselled beauty, and had +they been indeed of marble they could not have been more bloodless in +their hue, while her jetty lashes lay as still upon her cheek as though +the hand of death had sealed her eyes for ever. Mr. Sinclair had no such +fear. He knew that she had only fainted, and rejoiced that God in his +mercy had spared her the worst horrors of the scene; but as Captain +Percy's eyes rested on her, a deeper scowl settled on his brow, and in a +hoarse whisper he asked:-- + +"Have they harmed her, sir?" + +"Not by a touch, thank God! not by a touch!" exclaimed the father, as he +pressed her with passionate joy to his heart--ay, joy, even in the +presence of her so long the light of his life now passing for ever from +earth. For a few minutes the dying had been forgotten, for what was +death--a death of peace--to the long misery into which man's base, +brutal passion would have converted the life of that pure and lovely +girl? Now, however, she was safe, and still supporting her on his arm, +Mr. Sinclair turned to his wife and tenderly moistened her parched lips. +What a mockery of all human cares seemed that pale, peaceful +brow--peaceful, while he whose lightest sorrow had thrown a shadow on +her life was suffering anguish inexpressible, and the child who had lain +in her bosom, to the lightest throb of whose heart her own had answered, +lay senseless from terror in his arms. It was a scene to touch the +hardest heart, and Captain Percy's heart was not hard. He looked around +for the men whom he had interrupted in their hellish designs--they were +not there. + +"Is this their work?" he asked of Mr. Sinclair, pointing to his scarcely +breathing wife. + +"No--no--this is the gentle hand of our Father," said Mr. Sinclair, as +he bent his head and touched with his lips the sunken cheek dearer to +him now than it had been in all its girlish roundness. The blood had +begun to cast a slight tinge of red into the lips of Mary Sinclair +before Captain Percy had left the room in search of the men whom he was +unwilling to leave behind him, and when he returned, the tremor of her +form and the close clasp with which she clung to her father, proved that +her consciousness and her memory were awake. His step had startled her, +and as he entered he heard Mr. Sinclair say, "Fear not, my daughter, +that is the step of your deliverer, and though he is an English +soldier----" + +"I pray you, sir, judge not Englishmen by ruffians like these--a +disgrace to the name of man. Believe me, every country has within it +wretches, who, at moments such as this, when all social restraints are +withdrawn, become demons. But I must leave you, in safety, I trust, as I +have sent to the ships all the soldiers whom I could discover in your +neighborhood." + +"Farewell, sir," said Mr. Sinclair, extending his hand--"God reward you +for the timely aid you have this day brought to the defenceless. Look +up, my child, and join your thanks with mine." + +Mary Sinclair raised her head from her father's bosom, and lifting her +eyes for an instant to the face of Captain Percy, unclosed her lips to +speak, but voice and words were denied her. + +"God bless you, lady!" he exclaimed, as taking her hand he raised it to +his lips, and relinquishing it with one glance of sympathy at the dying, +turned away and passed from the room. He returned once more, but it was +only to leave his pistols with Mr. Sinclair. + +"They are loaded, sir, and in such a cause as you needed them just now, +even a Christian minister may use them." + +Captain Percy spoke rapidly, only glancing at Mary, who was already +bending with self-forgetful devotion above her mother's pillow, and +before Mr. Sinclair could answer he was gone. + +All was again silent in that deserted suburb, and for long hours nothing +disturbed the solemn stillness of the chamber of death, save the low sob +or earnest prayer of parting love, though sounds of tumult had not +ceased wholly in the village. The invaders had been interrupted in their +work of destruction by an alarm from some of their own party of an +approaching foe. They hurried to their ships with mad impetuosity, +conscious that their acts deserved only war to the knife, and that they +were not prepared to cope with any regular force. Only they, who, like +Captain Percy, had held themselves aloof from the brutal barbarities +which they had striven vainly to prevent, were now composed enough to +take any steps for the safety of others. To collect those who had +straggled off was the first business, and while the recall was hastily +beaten, Captain Percy, selecting a small party of men on whom he could +depend, went to patrol the more distant quarters of the town. Having +seen no trace of an enemy on his way to the parsonage, he had somewhat +hastily concluded the alarm to be false, and therefore did not hesitate, +before returning with his pistols to Mr. Sinclair, to send forward his +men in charge of those whom he had found, promising to join them before +they reached the point of embarcation. Without a thought of danger he +traversed the silent and deserted streets on his return, and had arrived +where a single turn would bring him within view of the rallying point of +his companions in arms, when the sound that met his practised ears told +of something more than the hurrying tread and mingling voices of +soldiers rapidly embarking. Had his men been opposed? If so, they should +not be without a leader--and with that thought he sprang forward. He was +too late. Already they had fought their way through the band of +villagers, who, maddened by the desolation of their homes, had gathered +together such weapons as they could, and led on by one gallant and +experienced soldier, whom their burning houses had lighted to their aid, +were seeking to cut off the retreat of some amongst their invaders, and +thus to revenge those whom they had been unable to protect. Captain +Percy's men had, as we have said, fought their way through this +band--not without loss. He now stood alone--one against many--with only +his good sword to aid, for his pistols he had given to Mr. Sinclair. To +retreat unobserved was impossible, for his own cry of "Forward--forward, +my men!" uttered as he rushed to the scene of the just decided contest, +had betrayed him--to fight against such odds with the faintest hope of +success was equally impossible, and to yield was an alternative which +there seemed to be no intention of offering him. In an instant twenty +swords flashed before his eyes--twenty muskets were pointed at his +breast. That instant had been his last had not Major Scott, the leader +of whom we have spoken, sprang forward and placed himself before him. +Himself a brave and generous soldier, he could not tamely witness such +butchery; and pale with the terror for another which he had never felt +for himself, he exclaimed, "Yield yourself, sir, quickly--a moment's +delay, and I cannot protect you." + +Captain Percy's sword was in the hand of his noble foe, who, linking his +arm in his, turned to face his own band, shouting as he did so, +"Back--back on your lives--he is my prisoner, and who touches him makes +me his enemy." + +The day had passed with all its exciting incidents. The glow of sunset +had faded into twilight's soberer hues, and these had deepened into the +darkness of night. With the darkness silence had settled upon the +streets of Havre de Grace. They who had trodden, for hours, with burning +hearts around the sites of their desecrated homes, retired to the house +of some charitable and more fortunate neighbor, to seek such rest as +misery may hope. They went with sullen as well as sad brows, and as they +passed one house in the village they muttered "curses not loud, but +deep." This was the house in which Major Scott had found a refuge for +himself and the prisoner, whom all his influence had scarcely been able +to protect. To remove him from Havre de Grace in the light of day, and +under the eyes of his infuriated enemies, was too hazardous a project to +be attempted; and by the advice of some who seemed disposed to second +his efforts for his safety, he had delayed his departure till night +should veil the obnoxious features of the British officer. + +At the parsonage, death had accomplished his work, and the room in which +we have already seen Mr. Sinclair, bears the solemn impress of his +presence. Beside the bed on which the lifeless limbs have been composed +with tender care, the pastor kneels. His prayer is no longer, "Let this +cup pass from me"--he is struggling for power to say, "Father, not my +will, but Thine be done!" In an upper room lies Mary Sinclair. Tears are +falling fast as summer rain-drops from her closed eyes; but she utters +neither sob nor moan, and by the dim light of the shaded lamp she seems +to the two women, who, with well-meant but officious kindness, have +insisted on watching with her through the night, to sleep. A slight +noise in the street causes one of these women to start, and she whispers +to the other, "I am 'feard of every thing to-night--the least noise puts +me all of a trimble, for I'm thinking of my Jack. He's gone to guard +that British soger, and I shouldn't wonder if he had a skrimmage about +him before morning." + +"And I must say, Miss Dunham, if he did, it would be nothin' more than +them deserves us would go for to guard them cruel British." + +"But they do say, Miss Caxton, that this Capin--for Jack says he is a +Capin--was better than the rest--that he took the part of our people +every where when he found there wasn't any fair fight, and that he was +drivin' his men to the ships when we caught him." + +"Them may believe that that will, but for my part I think that it must +be a poor, mean speritted American that will hold guard over one of them +British----" + +"Not so mean speritted as you think perhaps," said Jack's mother with a +flushed face. + +"Well, I must say, Miss Dunham, I never thought Jack would do such a +thing--if I had----" + +Miss Caxton stopped abruptly, but her companion would hear the +whole--"Well ma'am, if you had--what if you had?" + +"Why, then, Miss Dunham, I shouldn't have been so well pleased to see +him keepin' company with my Sarah--but after this, of course, that's at +an end." + +"May be, Miss Caxton, you may think to-morrow mornin' that it would have +been just as well to wait till the night was gone before you said +that--when you see the British Capin hanging by the neck in his fine +regimentals, and hear that his guard were the men that did it--as I know +they've sworn to do--you may think after all they an't so mean +speritted." + +"Miss Dunham! if they'll do that, I'll unsay every word I've said, and +proud enough I would be to call one of 'em my son-in-law--but now do +tell me all about it--she's asleep you see," glancing at Mary Sinclair, +"and there an't nobody to hear." + +"Why, there an't much to tell. You see the Major wouldn't give way any +how at all about this here man--so, as they didn't want to fight _him_, +they agreed that some of the real true blues who an't afeard of nothin', +should seem to help the Major and persuade him to keep the man here till +late in the night, and that they would guard him--but they were to take +care to have the key of his room, and when the Major goes there he'll +find it empty, or at best only a bloody corpse there. They'll hang him +if they can get him out of the window without too much noise, but if +there's any danger of his waking the Major with his screeching, they'll +stop his voice quick enough." + +Any further conversation between these discreet watchers was prevented +by a sudden movement on the part of Mary Sinclair. Springing from her +bed she was hastening to the door when her steps were arrested. + +"Dear me, Miss Mary! where are you going? Now do lie down again, my dear +young lady!--be patient--it's the Lord's will, you know." Such were the +remonstrances of her officious attendants, while, one on either side, +they strove to lead her back again, but Mary persisted. + +"I must go to my father, Mrs. Dunham, pray let me go, Mrs. Caxton, I +must speak to my father." + +"Well, then, my good young lady, just put your wrapping gown around you +first, and put your feet in these slippers." + +Mary complied silently, and then was suffered to proceed. Rapidly she +flew to her father's room--it was unoccupied, and a glance at his bed +showed her that it had not been disturbed. Mary was at no loss to +conjecture where she should find her father--but as she approached +_that_ room her steps grew slower, lighter--she was treading on holy +ground. With difficulty she nerved herself to turn the latch of the +door, and in an awed whisper she entreated her father to come to her. +Mr. Sinclair rose from his knees, but he lingered a moment to cast one +look on that still lovely face, to press his lips to that cold brow, and +then, reverently veiling it, he approached his daughter. + +"Come quickly, papa!--not a moment is to be lost if you would save him +from death, and such a death--oh, papa, papa!--it may be even now too +late." + +Her tale was rapidly told, and before it was concluded Mr. Sinclair was +ready for action. + +"But the house, Mary, what house is he in?" + +This Mary could not tell, but rapidly ascending the stairs to her room, +Mr. Sinclair obtained from the two gossips the information he sought. +Startled as they were by his appearance, they reverenced the rector too +much to question his designs. Leaving his daughter to forget even her +own heavy sorrow in the imminent danger of another--of one whom, without +any very satisfactory reason, she as well as Mr. Sinclair had at once +concluded to be her deliverer of the morning--let us follow his steps. + +The church clock tolled eleven as Mr. Sinclair passed, and the sound +made his fleet movements fleeter still. Street after street was +traversed without a voice or tread, save his own, breaking the stillness +of the night. At length he reached the point of the day's devastations. +Dismantled and roofless houses, from which a dull glimmer showed that +the fire was not yet wholly extinguished, were seen rising here and +there, while in intervening spaces a charred and smouldering heap alone +gave evidence that man had had his dwelling there. A rapid glance as he +passed without a pause over this ground told its desolation. But +see--what object meets his eye, and causes every nerve to thrill with +apprehension! From the midst of one of those blackened heaps a single +post shoots up--wildly Mr. Sinclair casts his eyes upward to its +summit--gracious heaven! is he too late? To that post, about twenty feet +from the ground, a cross-piece is attached, to which a rope has been +secured, and from that rope a dark object hangs motionless. Sick with +horror he stops--he gazes--no! it is no illusion--dimly defined against +the star-lit sky, his eye, dilated by terror, traces the form of man, +and fancy supplies the traits of him who stood before him but a few +hours since in all the flush of manhood--every moment replete with +energy, every look full of proud resolve and generous feeling. With a +searching glance Mr. Sinclair looks around for the murderers--but they +are gone--again, his strangely fascinated eye turns to that object of +horror. Is it the agitation of a death struggle which causes it now to +swing to and fro in the dusky air? The thought that life may not yet be +extinct gives him new strength--he runs--he flies to Major Scott's +lodgings, for from him alone is he secure of aid in his present purpose. + +As Mr. Sinclair approached the house in which Major Scott had found +accommodations for himself and his prisoner, he found himself no longer +in darkness. More than one burning torch threw a lurid light upon the +scene, while the men who held them, and perhaps as many as twenty more +stood clustered together, near the house, against which some of them +were engaged in elevating a ladder. In what service that ladder might +have been last used Mr. Sinclair shuddered to think. Perfect stillness +reigned in this party. Their few orders were given in whispers. + +Keeping cautiously in shadow, and moving with stealthy steps, Mr. +Sinclair passed them and reached the house. Even when there, he had +little hope of making Major Scott hear him without alarming them, and he +could not doubt that they would do every thing in their power to +frustrate his object. But Heaven favored his merciful design--he +touched the door and found it ajar. All was dark as midnight within it, +and he had scarcely taken a step when he stumbled against a man whose +voice sounded fiercely even in the low whisper in which he ejaculated, +"D--n you. Do you want to wake the Major? Don't you see you're at his +room door?" + +"I see now, but it was so dark at first," whispered Mr. Sinclair in +reply--adding with that quickness of perception and readiness of +invention which danger supplies to some minds--"I have come to watch +him--you are wanted." + +The man obeyed the intimation, and he had no sooner turned away than Mr. +Sinclair laid his hand upon the latch of the door which had been +indicated as Major Scott's. It yielded to his touch, and with a quick +but cautious movement he entered the room, and closed the door behind +him. Cautious as he was, the soldier's light sleep was broken, and he +exclaimed hurriedly, "Who's there?" + +Mr. Sinclair's communication was made in a hasty whisper, and Major +Scott only heard enough to know that his prisoner was in danger. Of Mr. +Sinclair's worst suspicions he did not even dream when, starting to his +feet, half dressed, as he had thrown himself on the bed, he snatched his +pistols from under his pillow, and exclaiming to Mr. Sinclair, "Follow +me, sir," hurried to the scene of action, the room of Captain Percy. Mr. +Sinclair followed with rapid steps. + +In one respect the conspirators had been disappointed--they had not +obtained the key of Captain Percy's room, for being now a prisoner on +parole, he was subject to no confinement. He had, however, locked the +door of his room himself, to guard against the incursion of curiosity +rather than of hostility; but the lock was none of the strongest--a +single vigorous application of Major Scott's foot to the door started +the screws which held it, and a second burst it off and threw the +entrance open before him. As Mr. Sinclair glanced forward, "Thank God!" +burst from his lips, to the no small surprise of Major Scott, who saw +little cause for gratitude in finding the object of his solicitude +retreating, sword in hand, towards the door, while several athletic men, +their faces dark with hate, were already pressing dangerously upon him, +and others were crowding in at the opened window. The impetuous rush of +his friends freed Captain Percy for a moment from his assailants, but +they returned fiercely to the charge, too furious now to postpone their +revenge even to their deference for Major Scott. Vain were Mr. +Sinclair's entreaties to be heard, till their advance was stayed by the +sight of Major Scott's firearms--weapons with which they had not +furnished themselves, considering them useless in an enterprise to whose +complete success silence was essential. Then first they listened to him +as he exclaimed, "This man is innocent, and if you shed his blood it +will call to Heaven for vengeance. I saw him myself this day oppose +himself to two of his own countrymen to save a defenceless woman from +injury. That woman was my daughter--some of you know her well--ah, +Thompson! you may well hang your head--would you slay the deliverer of +her whose good nursing saved the life of your motherless child?--Wilson, +it was but last week that she sat beside your dying mother, and soothed +and comforted her--but for this good and brave man she would now have +been with her in heaven." + +It was only necessary to gain a hearing for such words to produce an +influence on the rash, but not cruel men whom Mr. Sinclair addressed, +and scarcely half an hour had passed since their entrance into the room, +when they offered their hands in pledge of amity to him whose life they +had come to seek. As a proof of their sincerity, they advised Major +Scott no longer to delay his departure from the town, and some of them +volunteered to accompany him as a guard to his country-seat. + +"You have saved my life," said Captain Percy, as he shook hands with Mr. +Sinclair at parting. + +"And you have preserved for me all, except my duties, for which I can +now desire to live," answered Mr. Sinclair with emotion: then turning to +Major Scott, he added, "as soon as you consider it safe, you will, I +hope, bring Captain Percy to visit us. In the mean time, Captain Percy, +remember that the stranger and the prisoner are a clergyman's especial +care, and suffer yourself to want nothing which I can do for you. By-the +by," and he took Major Scott aside and whispered him. + +"Give yourself no concern about that, my dear sir," said Major Scott in +reply, "I will attend to it." + +He did attend to it, and Captain Percy's drafts on his captor were +promptly met, till he was able to open a communication with the British +commander. + +In as quiet a manner as possible Major Scott and Captain Percy moved off +from the hotel, and were met in the suburbs by their volunteer guard, +while another party of the men whom he had thus saved from a great +crime, attended Mr. Sinclair to his home. As he entered the area of the +smouldering ruins his eye sought the object lately viewed with so much +horror. He had scarcely glanced at it, when one of his companions +stepped up and disengaged a dark cloak from the noose already prepared +for its expected victim--"I knew no one would steal it from the +gallows," said the man, as he threw it over his shoulders. Mr. Sinclair +smiled to think how easily imagination had transformed that harmless +object into the fair proportions of a man. + +Nothing more was heard of Captain Percy for weeks--dreary weeks to many +in Havre de Grace--melancholy weeks to the inmates of the parsonage, who +missed at every turn the familiar step and voice which had been life's +sweetest music to their hearts. At length Mr. Sinclair received a note +from Major Scott, announcing his own approaching departure to the army +on our northern frontier, and requesting permission for Captain Percy +and himself to call on Mr. and Miss Sinclair. Permission was given--the +call was made, and they who had met only in scenes of terror and dismay, +amidst flushing looks and fierce words, now greeted each other with +gentlest courtesy among sounds and sights of peace. The call was +succeeded by a visit of some days, and this by one of weeks, till at +last it seemed to be understood that the parsonage was to be the home of +Captain Percy while awaiting the exchange which Major Scott had promised +to do all in his power to expedite. His society was at the present time +peculiarly pleasing to Mr. Sinclair, who was diverted from his own sad +thoughts by the varied intelligence of the soldier and traveller in many +lands. Mary Sinclair had been unable to meet her deliverer without a +thrill of emotion which communicated an air of timidity to her manner, +whose usual characteristic was modest self-possession. Captain Percy, at +thirty-five, had outlived the age of sudden and violent passion, but he +had not outlived that of deep feeling. A soldier from boyhood, he had +visited almost every clime, and been familiar with the beauties of +almost every land, yet in this lovely and gentle girl, whom he had +guarded from ill, and whom he now saw in all the pure and tender +associations of her home, blessing and blessed, there was something +which touched his heart more deeply than he liked to acknowledge even to +himself. Again and again when he saw the soft, varying color that arose +to her cheek at his sudden entrance, or heard the voice in which she was +addressing another, sink into a more subdued tone as she spoke to him, +did he take his hat and wander forth, that he might still in solitude +his bosom's triumphant throb, and reason with himself on the folly of +suffering his affections to be enthralled by one from whom, ere another +day passed, he might be separated by orders which would send him +thousands of miles away, and detain him, perhaps, for years. + +"If I thought her feelings were really interested," he would say to +himself at other times--"but nonsense--how can I be such a coxcomb--all +she can feel for me is gratitude." + +This last sentiment was echoed by Mary Sinclair, who, when +self-convicted of unusual emotion in Captain Percy's presence, ever +repeated, "It is only gratitude." + +One evening Mr. Sinclair retired after tea to his study, leaving his +daughter and his guest together. He had not been gone long when a +servant entered with the letters and papers just brought by the +semi-weekly mail, which conveyed to the inhabitants of Havre de Grace +news of the important events then daily transpiring in distant parts of +the country. The only letter was a somewhat bulky one for Captain Percy. +Mary received the papers and commenced reading them, that she might +leave her companion at liberty. Had she been looking at him she would +have seen some surprise, and even a little annoyance in his countenance +as his eyes rested on the seals of his dispatch. He opened it, and the +annoyance deepened. He read it more than once. Minutes passed in perfect +silence, and Mary began to wonder what correspondent could so deeply +interest him. A heavy sigh made her look up. His letter lay open on the +table before him, but he had evidently long ceased to read, for his arm +rested upon it, while his eyes were fixed with an expression at once +intent and mournful on her. Mary thought only of him as she said, "I +hope you have no painful intelligence there, Captain Percy." + +"I suppose I ought to consider it very joyful intelligence--I am no +longer a prisoner--I have been exchanged, and"--he hesitated, looked +away, then added rapidly--"I am ordered immediately to join my regiment +in Canada." + +A quick drawing of the breath, as though from sudden pain, met his +ear--his heart beat quickly, but he would not embarrass her by a glance. +There was a slight rustling of her dress, and turning he saw that she +had risen, and with one hand pressed upon the table for support, was +advancing to the door. Falteringly, one--two--three steps were taken, +and completely overcome, pale and ready to faint, she sank upon a sofa +near her. He sprang forward, but she motioned him away, and covering her +face with her hands, burst into tears--tears of shame as well as of +sorrow. For an instant he stood irresolute--but only for an instant, +when bending over her, he whispered, "Dare I hope that you sympathize +with me, Mary--that the feeling which made even liberty painful to me +since it separates me from you, is not confined to my own bosom?" + +Mary's sobs ceased--but she spoke not--moved not. + +"Answer me, dear Mary--remember I have little time to woo, for my orders +admit of no delay in their execution--I must leave you to-morrow. Rise +then above the petty formalities of your sex, and if I may indeed hope +ever to call you mine, let me do so this night--this hour--your father +will not, I think, fear to commit you to my tenderness." + +Mary uncovered her face, and raised her eyes for an instant to his, with +an expression so confiding that he thought his suit was won, and +pressing her hand to his lips, he said, "That glance tells me that you +are my own, Mary. My life shall prove my gratitude--but now I must seek +your father--_our_ father--will you await us here?" + +"I have something to say to you--sit down and hear me," said Mary, in a +voice which she strove in vain to raise above a whisper. + +He placed himself beside her on the sofa, still clasping the hand he had +taken, and with a voice faltering and low at first, but gathering +strength as she proceeded, Mary resumed:--"I will not attempt--I do not +wish to deny that you have read my heart aright--that--that you who +saved me are--are--" a lover's ear alone could detect the next +words--"very dear to me--but I cannot--I think I ought not----" + +She paused, and Captain Percy said, "You are not willing to intrust your +happiness to one so lately known." + +"Oh, no! you mistake my meaning--I can have no doubt of you--no fear for +my own happiness--but my father--who will care for him if I, his +daughter, his only child, thus give myself to another at the very time +that he needs me most?" + +"I will not take you from him--at least not now, Mary--give me but the +right to call you mine, and I will leave you here in your own sweet +home--not again, I trust, to be visited by war--till peace shall leave +me at liberty to return to England with my bride--my wife." + +He would have clasped her to him as he named her thus, but Mary +struggled almost wildly to free herself, exclaiming, "Oh! plead not thus +lest I forget my father in myself--my duty in love--the forgetfulness +would be but short--I should be unhappy even at your side, when I +thought of the loneliness of heart and life to which I had condemned +him." + +"But he should go with us--he should have our home. It will be a simple +home, Mary--for though I come of a lordly race, I inherit not their +wealth--but it will be large enough for our father." + +"Kind and generous!" exclaimed Mary, as she suffered her fingers to +clasp the hand in which they had hitherto only rested, "would that it +might be so--but that were to ask of my father a sacrifice greater even +than the surrender of his daughter--the sacrifice of his sense of duty +to the people who have chosen him as their spiritual father--and to whom +he considers himself bound for life." + +Captain Percy remained silent long after she had ceased to speak, with +his eyes resting on her downcast face. At length in low, sad tones, he +questioned, "And must we part thus?" + +Mary's lips moved, but she could not speak. + +"I will not ask you to remember me, Mary," he resumed, "for if +forgetfulness be possible to you, it will perhaps be for your happiness +to forget--yet--pardon me if I am selfish--I would have some little +light amidst the darkness gathering around my heart--may I hope that had +no duty forbidden you would have been mine?" + +She yielded to his clasping arm, and sinking on his bosom, murmured +there, "Yours--yours ever and only--yours wholly if I could be yours +holily." + +From this interview Mary retired to her chamber, and Captain Percy +sought his host in his study. After communicating to Mr. Sinclair the +contents of the dispatch he had just received, he continued, "I must in +consequence of these orders leave you immediately--but before I go I +have a confession to make to you. You will not wonder that your lovely +daughter should have won my heart; but one hour since, I could have said +that I had never yielded for an instant to that heart's suggestions--had +never consciously revealed my love, or endeavored to excite in her +feelings which, in my position and the present relations of our +respective countries, could scarcely fail to be productive of pain. I +can say so no longer. The moment of parting has torn the veil from the +hearts of both--she loves me,"--there was a joyous intonation in Captain +Percy's voice as he pronounced these last words. He was silent a moment +while Mr. Sinclair continued to look gravely down--then suddenly he +resumed--"Pardon my selfishness--I forget all else in the sweet thought +that I am loved by one so pure, so gentle, so lovely. But though I have +dared without your permission to acknowledge my own tenderness, and to +draw from her the dear confession of her regard, there my wrong has +ended--she has assured me that she could never be happy separated from +you, and that you are wedded to your people." Mr. Sinclair shaded with +his hand features quivering with emotion. "At present," continued +Captain Percy, "these feelings, which are both of them too sacred for me +to contest, place a barrier between us, and I have sought from her no +promise for the future--if she can forget me--" Captain Percy paused a +moment, then added abruptly--"may a happier destiny be hers than I could +have commanded--but, sir, the time may come when England shall no longer +need all her soldiers--an orphan and an only child, I have nothing to +bind me to her soil--should I seek you then, and find your Mary with an +unchanged heart, will you give her to me?--will you receive me as a +son?" + +"Under such circumstances I would do so joyfully," Mr. Sinclair replied, +"yet I cannot conceal from you now that I grieve to know that my +daughter must wear out her youth in a hope long deferred at best, +perhaps never to be realized." + +Both gentlemen were for a few minutes plunged in silent thought. Captain +Percy arose from his seat--walked several times across the room, and +then stopping before the table at which Mr. Sinclair was seated, resumed +the conversation. + +"Had I designedly sought the interest with which your daughter has +honored me," he said, "your words would inflict on me intolerable +self-reproach, but I cannot blame myself for not being silent when +silence would have been a reproach to her delicacy and a libel on my own +affection. Now, however, sir, I yield myself wholly to your cooler +judgment and better knowledge of her nature, and I will do whatever may +in your opinion conduce to her happiness, without respect to my own +feelings. If you think that she can forget the past, and you desire that +she should"--his voice lost its firmness and he grasped with violence +the chair on which he leaned--"I will do nothing to recall it to her +memory. It is the only _amende_ I can make for the shadow I have thrown +upon her life--dark indeed will such a resolve leave my own." + +"It would cast no ray of light on hers. Be assured her love is not a +thing to be forgotten--it is a part of her life." + +"And it shall be repaid with all of mine which my duties as a soldier +and subject leave at my disposal. Do not think me altogether selfish +when I say that your words have left no place in my heart for any thing +but happiness--I have but one thing more to ask you--it is a great +favor--inexpressibly great--but----" + +"Nay--nay," Mr. Sinclair exclaimed, gathering his meaning more from his +looks and manner than from the words which fell slowly from his +lips--"ask me not so soon to put the irrevocable seal upon a bond which +may be one of misery." + +"If your words be true--if her love be a part of her life, the +irrevocable seal has been already affixed by Heaven, and I only ask you +to give your sanction to it, that by uniting her duty and her love, you +may save her gentle spirit all contest with itself, and give her the +fairest hope of future joy." + +It was now Mr. Sinclair's turn to rise and pace the floor in agitated +silence--"I know not how to decide so suddenly on so momentous a +question," he at length exclaimed. + +"Suppose you leave its decision to her whom it most concerns. It is for +her happiness we are most anxious--so entirely is that my object that I +would not influence her determination even by a look. I will not even +ask to be present when you place my proposal before her; but I must +repeat, sir, if you design to do it, there is no time to be lost, for I +must be on my way to Canada to-morrow." + +"So be it then--she shall choose for herself, and Heaven direct her +choice!" + +"Amen!" responded Captain Percy, as Mr. Sinclair turned from the door. +He heard him ascend the stairs, and ask and receive admission to his +daughter's room. Then he counted the seconds as they grew into +minutes--the minutes as they extended to a quarter of an hour--a +half-hour--and rolled slowly on towards the hour which lacked but little +to its completion, when his straining ear caught the sound of an opening +door, and then Mr. Sinclair's sedate step was heard slowly descending +the stairs and approaching the study. Captain Percy met him at the door, +and looked the inquiry which he could not speak. Mr. Sinclair replied to +the look, "She is yours!" + +"May I not see her and receive such a confirmation of my hopes from her +own lips!" + +"Not to-night--I have persuaded her to retire at once--she needs repose, +and we must be early astir. Your marriage must for many reasons be kept +secret at present, and as I could not, I fear, find witnesses here on +whose silence I could rely, we will accompany you in the morning to +Major Scott's, and there, in the presence of his wife and sister, your +vows shall receive the sanction of the church. You must have some +preparation to make, and I will bid you good night, for there are +certain legal preliminaries necessary to the validity of a marriage +here, to which I must attend this evening--unusual as the hour is." + +There was a strange mingling of emotion in the hearts of the lovers as +they stood side by side within that room in the gray dawn of the next +morning. In a few hours they were to part, they knew not for what +distance of space or duration of time. It might be that they should +never after this morning look upon each other's faces in life; yet, ere +they parted, there was to be a bond upon their souls which should make +_them_ ever present to each other, should give them the same interests, +should, as it were, mould their beings into one. Sacred bond of God's +own forming, which thus offers the support of a spiritual and +indissoluble union amidst the separations and changes of this +ever-varying life! No such strength and peace are to be found in the +frail and casual ties for which man in his folly would exchange this +bond of Heaven. + +Few words were spoken during the burned breakfast at the parsonage, or +the drive to Major Scott's, for deep emotion is ever silent. Yet not for +them were the coy reserves often evinced by hearts on the verge of a +life-union--the faltering timidity which hesitates to lift the veil from +feelings in whose light existence is thenceforth to pass. They could not +forget that they were to part, and even Mary hesitated not to let her +lover read in her eyes' shadowy depths the tenderness which might soothe +the parting pang, and whose memory might brighten the hours of +separation. + +Why should we linger on a scene which each heart can depict for itself? +With solemn tenderness the father pronounced the words which transferred +to another the right to his own earthly sanctuary--the heart of his +daughter--and committed to another's keeping--his last and brightest +earthly treasure. That treasure was soon, however, returned, for a time, +to his care. The vows of the marriage rite had scarcely been uttered, +when with one long clasp--one whispered word--one lingering look--the +disciplined soldier turned from his newly-found joy to his duties. Never +had Mary seemed more lovely in his eyes or her father's than in that +moment, when with quivering lips, eyes "heavy with unshed tears," and +cheeks white with anguish, she yet smiled upon him to the last. Nor did +her heroic self-control cease when he was gone. Her father was still +there, and for him she endured and was silent. Only by her languid +movements and fading color did he learn the bitterness of her soul +through the weary months of her sorrow. Weary months were they indeed! + +One letter she received from Captain Percy, written before he had +passed beyond the limits of the United States. It breathed the very soul +of tenderness. "My wife!" he wrote, "what joy is summed in that little +word--what faith in the present--what promise for the future! I find +myself often repeating it again and again with a lingering cadence, +while your gentle eyes seem smiling at my folly." Long, long did Mary +wear this letter next her heart, and still no other came to take its +place. + +They had parted in 1813, just as the falling leaves came to herald the +approach of winter. That winter passed with Mary in vain longing and +vainer hopes. Spring again clothed her home with beauty, but there came +no spring to her heart. Summer brought joy and gladness to the earth, +but not to her, and another autumn closed over her in anxious suspense. +There were moments when she could almost have prayed to have that dread +silence broken even by a voice from the tomb--other times in which she +threw herself on her knees in thankfulness that she could yet hope. From +Major Scott she had heard that Captain Percy's regiment had been sent to +the South, but of him individually even Major Scott knew nothing. At +length came the eighth of January, that day of vain triumph on which +thousands fell in the contest for rights already lost and won--the +treaty of peace having been signed at Ghent on the twenty-fourth of the +preceding month. Forgetful of this useless hecatomb at war's relentless +shrine, America echoed the gratulations of the victors which fell with +scathing power on the heart of the trembling Mary. How could she hope +that he, the fearless soldier, had escaped this scene of slaughter! If +he had, surely he would now find some way to inform her of his safety, +but weeks passed on, and passed still in silence. + +During this long period of suspense, no doubt of the tenderness and +truth of him she loved had ever sullied Mary's faith. Mr. Sinclair was +not always thus confiding, and once, on seeing the deadly pallor that +overspread her face on hearing the announcement of "no letters"--he +uttered words of keen reproach on him who could so wrong her gentle +heart. + +"Oh, father!" Mary exclaimed, "speak not thus--be assured it is not his +fault--remember that no license could tempt him to wrong the +defenceless--think how honorable he was in suppressing his own feelings +lest their avowal should bring sorrow on us--and when my self-betrayal +unsealed his lips, how delicate to me, how generous to you was his +conduct--and who but he could have been so rigid in his observance of a +soldier's duty, yet so inexpressibly tender as a man! I loved him +because I saw him thus true and noble--and having seen him thus how can +I doubt him? He may be no longer on earth, but wherever he is, he is my +true and noble husband, and you will not again distress me, dear father, +by speaking as though you doubted him." + +"Never," said Mr. Sinclair emphatically, and he never did, though he saw +her form grow thinner, and her cheek paler every day, and before the +winter was gone heard that deep, hollow cough from her, which has so +often sounded the knell of hope to the anxious heart. With the coming on +of summer this cough passed away, but Mary was oppressed by great +feebleness and languor--scarcely less fatal symptoms. Still she omitted +none of those cares essential to her father's comfort--while to the +poor, the sick, the sorrowing, she was more than ever an angel of mercy. +With feeble steps and slow she still walked her accustomed round of +charity, and thus living for duty she lived for God, and had His peace +shed abroad in her heart, even while sorrow was wearing away the springs +of her life. She loved to sit alone and send her thoughts forward to the +future--not of this life, but of that higher life in which there shall +be no shadow on the brightness of our joy--where love shall be without +fear--no war shall desolate--no opposing duty shall separate--no death +shall place its stony barrier between loving hearts. With a mind thus +occupied, she wandered one day, in the latter part of August, through +the garden of the parsonage and the yard immediately surrounding the +church into the little inclosure beyond, within which was the green and +flowery knoll that marked her mother's last resting-place. As she turned +again towards her home the sound of a carriage driven rapidly by caused +her to look towards the road which lay about a hundred yards distant. +The carriage rushed by, and she caught but a glimpse of a gentleman +leaning from its window. In another moment a grove of trees had hidden +both the carriage and its occupant from her sight--yet that glimpse had +sent a thrill through her whole frame--a mist passed over her eyes, and +with eager, trembling steps, she proceeded on her way. As she reached +the garden, she thought she saw her father approaching it from the +house, but her path led through a summer-house, and when she had passed +through it he was no longer visible. Every thing in the house wore its +usual air of quietness on her entrance, and with a feeling of +disappointment, for which she could not rationally account, she turned +her steps towards her father's study. As she drew near the door she +heard his voice--the words, "I dread to tell her," met her ear and made +her heart stand still. One step more and she was at the door--she looked +eagerly forward, and with a glad cry sprang into the extended arms of +her husband. + +It was long before any of the party were sufficiently composed for +conversation. When that time came, Captain or rather Colonel Percy heard +with surprise that no letters had been received from him since his +joining the army in Canada. He had written often, but had been obliged +to send his letters to some distant post-town by his own servant. As he +had declined accompanying Colonel Percy to America, there was reason to +suppose that he had suspected the character of the correspondence, +perhaps had acquainted himself fully with the contents of the letters, +and had taken effectual means to prevent their reaching their +destination, with the hope of thus completely removing from Colonel +Percy's mind every inducement to return to this country. Having received +a disabling though not dangerous wound at the battle of New Orleans, +Colonel then Major Percy was sent home with despatches, and was +immediately ordered to join the army under Lord Wellington, then rapidly +hastening to repel the attempt of the prisoner of Elba to re-establish +himself on the throne of France. From this period till the battle of +Waterloo all private concerns were merged in the interest and the hurry +of great public events. In that battle Major Percy was again slightly +wounded. His distinguished bravery was rewarded by his being made again +the bearer of despatches to England. As it was evident to all that the +struggle which had called the whole force of Britain into the field was +now at an end, he had no hesitation in asking and no difficulty in +obtaining leave of absence from the commander-in-chief, and had lost no +time in embarking for America. + +"As a consequence of peace," said Colonel Percy in conclusion, "a large +part of our force will be disbanded, and many officers put on half-pay. +A friend who is very influential at head quarters has undertaken to +secure me a place on the list of the latter--and henceforth, dear Mary, +your home is mine!" + +"And did you never doubt me during all this long silence?" he asked of +his happy wife a few days after his return. + +"Never," said Mary firmly, and then added in a more playful manner--"if +I should step into the confessor's chair, could you answer as boldly?" + +"I can, Mary--though I never received a line from you, it never occurred +to me to fear any change in your affection. Our marriage had placed on +it the seal of duty, and your conduct in relation to your father had +shown me that that seal you could not easily break." + +"Then you did not love me less for not yielding every other +consideration to the gratification of your wishes?" said Mary, +endeavoring to speak lightly, but betraying deeper feeling by the slight +tremor in her voice, and the quick blush mantling in her cheek. + +"Love you less!" exclaimed Colonel Percy warmly--"my love had been +little worthy of your acceptance, dearest, had it been lessened by +seeing that your principles were paramount even to your affections. +Happy would it be for all your sex, Mary, did they recognize as the only +test of a true and noble love, that it increases with the increase of +esteem, and finds more pleasure in the excellence of its object than in +its own selfish triumphs." + +Ere the winter of 1815 had set in, Mary's rounded form and blooming +cheek relieved all Mr. Sinclair's apprehension of her consumptive +tendencies, and proved that her love was indeed, as he had said, "a part +of her life." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +The New-Year's day--the day after which the year is no longer new--is +come and gone; and while sitting here to record its events before I +sleep, I look back at it with pleasure, chastened by such thoughts as +the young seldom have. I believe of all such eras the aged may say as +the poet says of his birthday: + + "What a different sound + That word had in my younger years! + And every time the chain comes round, + Less and less bright the link appears." + +To all, these eras mark their progress on the journey of life; but to +the young they are bright with the promise of a happier future; the +aged, they direct to the grave of the buried past, and they read on them +the inscription so often found on the Roman monumental stones, "Siste, +Viator." Travellers are we from time to eternity, and it is well that we +should meet with these imperative calls to stand and consider. Cheered +by the Christian's hope, we can stand; we can look steadily on the past, +count the lengthening line of these memorials of our dead years, and +feel that but few more probably lie between us and the river of death, +yet, strong in the might of Death's great Conqueror, "bate no jot of +heart or hope." + +These are grave though not sad thoughts; too grave to mingle readily +with the record of mirthful scenes, howsoever innocent may have been the +mirth. I must, therefore, lay aside my pen, and reserve the description +of our New-Year for tomorrow. + +Our New-Year opened with a cold and cloudless morning, and our party met +at breakfast with faces as bright as the sun. Gifts were exchanged +between the parents and children, the brothers and sisters--gifts, +trifling in themselves, but dear from their association with the +cherished givers. It was an endearing sight to see the venerable parents +receiving from their children testimonies of that affectionate +consideration which the care and tenderness of years had so well +deserved. Tears were on Mrs. Donaldson's cheeks, and even the Colonel's +eyes glistened as they clasped one after another of their children to +their hearts, and invoked on them the blessing of Heaven. From this +scene Mr. Arlington and I had stood aloof, silent, but not uninterested +spectators. As the excitement of the principal actors subsided, we +approached and tendered our hearty congratulations, and received equally +hearty congratulations in return. Neither had Aunt Nancy been altogether +forgotten in the mementos of affection provided for the day; and I +thought Mr. Arlington looked a little envious as Annie, with a kiss, +threw around my neck a chain woven of her own hair, and suspended to it +the eye-glass which I always wore. I do not know but his envy may have +been somewhat allayed by a very handsomely decorated copy of an English +work on sporting, with which Col. Donaldson presented him. He had +scarcely found time, however, to admire it, when all attention was +attracted to Philip Donaldson, who entered with a servant bearing the +mysterious box to which I have before alluded. + +"There is my New-Year present to you, Annie," he said, as he began to +open it. All drew near and looked on with interest, yet few felt much +surprise when, the cover being removed, a Greek dress was disclosed. +From the rich head-dress of silvered muslin to the embroidered slipper, +all was complete. Annie looked on with a smile as he displayed piece +after piece--yet her smile wore some appearance of constraint; and when +Philip, drawing her to him, kissed her cheek and said, "Not a word for +me, Annie!" with her thanks were mingled some hesitating expressions of +apprehension that this dress would be very conspicuous, concluding with +the timid question, "Do you really wish me to wear it this evening, +Philip?" + +"Certainly, Annie. It was in order to show you in this dress that I +proposed fancy dresses for this evening; you will not disappoint me?" + +"Certainly not--at least not willingly--I will wear it. If I wear it +ungracefully you will forgive me?" + +"I am not afraid of that," said Philip, as he glanced at her glowing +face with a brother's gratified pride. + +Miss Donaldson advised that Annie should try on the dress at once, as +she prudently suggested it might require some alteration. + +"Come with me, Aunt Nancy," said Annie as she left the room to comply +with this advice. + +"Come back here and let us see you, Annie, when you have put it on," +said Col. Donaldson. + +Annie would have passed from the room without an answer, evading the +compliance which she could not refuse, but the Colonel called her back +and did not dismiss her till assured that the request, which he knew +would be regarded as a command, had been heard. + +The dress needed no alteration. We afterwards found that Philip had sent +his friend a measure procured from Annie's maid, and the fit was +perfect. I am not quite sure that Annie, as she saw the beautiful figure +reflected in her glass, regretted the command which compelled her to +show herself to the party awaiting her in the library, to which we had +withdrawn from the breakfasting room, that we might not interfere with +the household operations, of which the latter was, at this hour, the +scene. Yet it was with a little coy delay and blushing timidity that +she, at length, suffered me to lead her thither. + +"Beautiful!"--"I never saw her look so well!"--"I knew it would become +her!" were the exclamations that greeted her, on her entrance, deepening +the flush upon her cheek, and calling up a brighter smile to her lips. +Mr. Arlington alone was silent, but his soul was in his eyes, and they +spoke an admiration compared to which the words of others were tame. + +"My dear Annie," said her mother, as she gazed delightedly upon her, +"how I wish I had a likeness of you in that dress!--you do look so +remarkably well in it." + +Mr. Arlington stepped forward. "Would you permit me--" to Mrs. +Donaldson--"Would you do me the favor--" to Annie--"Might I be +allowed--" with a glance at the Colonel, "to gratify Mrs. Donaldson's +wish. It should be my New-Year's offering. I would ask only an hour of +your time--" deprecatingly to Annie. "That would give me an outline +which I could fill up without troubling you." + +Mr. Arlington was so earnest, and Mrs. Donaldson so gratefully pleased, +that if Annie had any objections, they were completely overborne. Mr. +Arlington produced his sketching materials, and disposed his subject and +his light, and then intimated so plainly that the consciousness of the +observation of others would be fatal to his success, that we withdrew, +leaving only Philip with a book in a distant corner "to play propriety," +as he whispered to me on passing, with a mischievous glance at the +blushing Annie. + +And now the reader doubtless thinks, that in the engraving prefixed to +this volume, he has a copy of the sketch made on this New-Year's +morning. In this, however, he deceives himself, for the work of this +morning amounted to the merest and most unfinished outline, which would +have stood for Zuleika as well as for Annie Donaldson. Yet instead of +one hour, Annie generously allowed Mr. Arlington nearly to triple the +time. How he was occupied during all this time, I cannot tell, though +that he did not spend all of it in drawing I had ocular demonstration. + +Nearly three hours, as I have said, had passed since we left the +library, when, looking from my window, I saw Philip, returning to the +house on horseback. Having left in the library a book in which I was +much interested, I had been waiting somewhat impatiently for Annie's +appearance, to satisfy me that I might without intrusion return thither +for it. I now concluded, somewhat too hastily, as it afterwards proved, +from seeing Philip abroad, that the sitting was at an end, and +accordingly went for my book. I entered noiselessly, I suppose--I am +usually quiet in my movements--by a door directly opposite to the seat +which Mr. Arlington had arranged for himself, and behind the sofa on +which, at his desire, Annie had been seated when I left her. There still +was Mr. Arlington's seat, and before it a table with the drawing +materials and unfinished sketch, but Mr. Arlington was on the sofa +beside Annie. He was speaking, but in tones so low, that even had I +wished it, I could not have heard him; but the few seconds for which +surprise kept me chained to the spot, were sufficient to suggest the +subject of those murmured words. The reader will probably conjecture +that subject without aid from me, when I tell him what I saw. Of Annie, +as she sat with her back to me, I could only see the drooping head and +one crimson ear and cheek; Mr. Arlington's face was turned to her, and +was glowing with joy, and as it seemed to me with triumph. Before I had +turned away, he raised her hand to his lips. I saw that it rested +unresistingly in his clasp; and gliding through the door by which I +stood, I closed it softly and left them unconscious of my presence. + +The invitations had been given for the early hour of half-past seven, +and at seven, by previous arrangement, our own party collected in the +library dressed for the evening. There stood Col. Donaldson in the +uniform of a continental major, gallantly attending a lady whose fine +dark eyes and sweet smile revealed Mrs. Seagrove, notwithstanding the +crimped and powdered hair, patched face, hoop, furbelows, and +farthingale, which would have carried us back to the days of Queen Anne. +Mrs. Dudley, in similar costume, was attended by Philip Donaldson, who +looked a perfect gentleman of the Sir Charles Grandison style in his +full dress, with bag-wig and sword. Arthur Donaldson, in the graceful +and becoming costume of the gallant Hotspur, was seated with his Kate by +his side, and if Kate Percy looked but half as lovely in her bridal +array as did her present representative, she was well worthy a hero's +homage. But in the background, evidently shrinking from observation, +stood a figure more interesting to me than all these--it was our "sweet +Annie" as Zuleika--our Bride, _not_ of Abydos--leaning on the arm of a +Selim habited in a costume as correct and as magnificent as her own, yet +who could scarcely be said to _look_ the character well; the open brow +of Mr. Arlington, where lofty and serene thought seemed to have fixed +its throne, and his eyes bright with present enjoyment and future hope, +bearing little resemblance to our imaginations of the wronged and +desperate Selim, whose very joy seemed but a lightning flash, lending +intenser darkness to the night of his despair. I was the last to enter +the room, and as I approached Mr. Arlington, he presented me with a very +beautiful bouquet. I found afterwards that he had made the same graceful +offering to each of the ladies at the Manor, having received them from +the city, to which he had sent for his Greek dress and Philip's wig. Put +up in the ingenious cases now used for this purpose, the flowers had +come looking as freshly as though they had that moment been plucked. The +bouquet appropriated to Annie differed from all the others. It was +composed of white camelias, moss-rose buds, and violets. As I was +admiring it, Annie pointed to one of the rose-buds as being eminently +lovely in its formation and beautiful in its delicate shading. It was +beautiful, but my attention was more attracted by the sparkling of a +diamond ring I had never before seen upon her finger. The diamond was +unusually large, the antique setting tasteful. With an inconsideration +of which I flatter myself I am not often guilty, I exclaimed in +surprised admiration, "Why, Annie, where did you get that beautiful +ring?" + +The sudden withdrawing of the little hand, the quick flushing of cheek, +neck, brow, told the tale at once; a tale corroborated by the smiling +glance which met mine as it was turned for a moment on Mr. Arlington. +Her confusion was beautiful, but he was too generous to enjoy it, and +strove to bring me back to the flowers. + +"Have you ever seen some beautiful verses, translated from the German, +by Edward Everett I believe, entitled 'The Flower Angels?'" he asked. + +"I never did; can you repeat them?" + +He answered by immediately reciting the verses which I here give to the +reader. + + +THE FLOWER ANGELS. + + As delicate forms as is thine, my love, + And beauty like thine, have the angels above; + Yet men cannot see them, though often they come + On visits to earth from their native home. + + Thou ne'er wilt behold them, but if thou wouldst know + The houses in which, when they wander below, + The Angels are fondest of passing their hours, + I'll tell thee, fair lady--they dwell in the flowers. + + Each flower, as it blossoms, expands to a tent + For the house of a visiting angel meant; + From his flight o'er the earth he may there find repose, + Till again to the vast tent of heaven he goes. + + And this angel his dwelling-place keeps in repair, + As every good man of his dwelling takes care; + All around he adorns it, and paints it well, + And much he's delighted within it to dwell. + + True sunshine of gold, from the orb of day, + He borrows, his roof with its light to inlay; + All the lines of each season to him he calls, + And with them he tinges his chamber walls. + + The bread angels eat, from the flower's fine meal, + He bakes, so that hunger he never can feel; + He brews from the dew-drop a drink fresh and good, + And every thing does which a good angel should. + + And greatly the flowers, as they blossom, rejoice + That they are the home of the angel's choice; + And again when to heaven the angel ascends, + The flower falls asunder, the stalk droops and bends. + + If thou, my dear lady, in truth art inclined, + The spirits of heaven beside thee to find, + Reflect on the flowers and love them moreover, + And angels will always around thee hover. + + A flower do but plant near thy window-glass, + And through it no spirit of evil can pass; + When thou goest abroad, on thy bosom wear + A nosegay, and trust me an angel is near. + + Do but water the lilies at break of day, + For the hours of the morn thou'lt be whiter than they; + Let a rose round thy bed night-sentry keep, + And angels will rock thee on roses to sleep. + + No frightful dreams can approach thy bed, + For around thee an angel his watch will have spread; + And whatever visions thy Guardian, to thee, + Permits to come in, very good ones will be. + + When thus thou art kept by a heavenly spell, + Shouldst thou now and then dream that I love thee right well; + Be sure that with fervor and truth I adore thee, + Or an angel had ne'er set mine image before thee. + +The visitors soon began to arrive. There were among them some amusing +characters, so well supported as to give rise during the evening to many +entertaining scenes; but to me this was the group and this the incident +of the evening. Not a group or an incident for prurient curiosity or +frivolous jest, but for an earnest and reverent recognition of that +beautiful law imposed on Nature by her Great Author, by which the feeble +delight in receiving, and the strong in giving support--that law by +which a pure and self-abnegating affection is made the source of life in +all its commingling relations--of its duties and its sympathies--its +joys and its sorrows--of its severest probation and its loftiest +development. + +It was in the solemnity of spirit, engendered by thoughts like these, +that I stood at the window of my room, looking forth upon the still and +moonlit night, long after our friends had left us. My door opened softly +and Annie glided in, and ere I was aware of her presence, was standing +beside me with her head resting on my shoulder. A tear was on the cheek +to which I pressed my lips. A few whispered words told me whence the +ring came--but not for the public are the pure, guileless confidences of +that hour. + +Our holiday festivities were over, and the next day the Christmas Guests +departed. They had stepped aside awhile from the dusty thoroughfares on +which they were accustomed to pursue their several avocations, for the +interchange of friendly sympathy with each other, and the offering of +grateful hearts to Heaven, and now they were returning, cheered and +strengthened to their allotted work. Reader, go thou and do likewise + + "Like a star + That maketh not haste, + That taketh no rest, + Let each be fulfilling + His God-given best." + +THE END. + + + + +_D. Appleton & Co.'s Publications._ + + +Novels, Tales, &c. + + _AGUILAR, G_.--A MOTHER'S RECOMPENSE. 12mo., paper, 50c.; cloth, + 75c. + + ---- WOMEN OF ISRAEL. Two vols. 12mo., paper, $1; cloth, $1 50c. + + ---- VALE OF CEDARS. 12mo., cloth, 75c.; paper, 50c. + + ---- WOMAN'S FRIENDSHIP, cloth, 75c.; paper, 50c. + + _ADRIAN_; OR, THE CLOUDS OF THE MIND. By G. P. R. James and M. B. + Field. 12mo., cloth, $1. + + _CORBOULD'S_ HISTORY AND ADVENTURES OF MARGARET CATCHPOLE. 8vo., 2 + plates, paper cover, 25c. + + _DUMAS_' MARGUERITE DE VALOIS. A Novel. 8vo., 25c. _DUPUY, + A. E_.--THE CONSPIRATOR. 12mo., cloth, 75c.; paper, 50c. + + _ELLEN PARRY_; OR, TRIALS OF THE HEART. 12mo., 63c.; paper, 88c. + + _ELLEN MIDDLETON_. A Tale by Lady Fullerton. 12mo., paper, 50c.; + cloth, 75c. + + _HEARTS UNVEILED_; OR, "I KNEW YOU WOULD LIKE HIM." By Mrs. + Saymore. 12mo., paper, 50c.; cloth, 75c. + + _HOME IS HOME_; A DOMESTIC STORY. 12mo., paper, 50c.; cloth, 75c. + + _HELOISE_; OR, THE UNREVEALED SECRET. By Talvi. 12mo., cloth, + 75c.; paper, 50c. + + _HOWITT, MARY_. THE HEIR OF WAST WAYLAND. 12mo., paper, 38c.; + cloth, 50c. + + _IO_; A TALE OF THE ANCIENT FANE. By Barton. 12mo., 75c. + + _JAMES MONTJOY_; OR, I'VE BEEN THINKING. By A. S. Roe. Two Parts, + paper, 75c.; cloth, $1. + + _LIFE'S DISCIPLINE_.--A TALE OF THE ANNALS OF HUNGARY. By Talvi, + author of "Heloise," &c. 12mo., paper, 38c.; cloth, 68c. + + _LOVER, SAMUEL_.--HANDY ANDY. 8vo., paper cover, 60c. + + ---- L. S. D., TREASURE TROVE. 8vo., paper, 25c. + + _MARGARET CECIL_; OR, "I CAN, BECAUSE I OUGHT." By Cousin Kate. + 12mo., paper, 50c.; cloth, 75c. + + _McINTOSH, M. J_.--TWO LIVES; OR, TO SEEM AND TO BE. 12mo., cloth, + 75c.; paper, 50c. + + ---- AUNT KITTY'S TALES. 12mo., cloth, 75c.; paper, 50c. + + ---- CHARMS AND COUNTER CHARMS. Paper, 75c.; cloth, $1. + + _MAIDEN AUNT_(The). A Story. By S. M. 12mo., paper, 50c.; cloth, + 75c. + + _MANZONI_.--THE BETROTHED LOVERS. 2 vols., 12mo, cloth, $1 50c.; + paper, $1. + + _MARGARET MAITLAND_; (Some Passages in the Life of). 12mo., paper, + 50c.; cloth, 75c. + + _MAXWELL'S_ HILL-SIDE AND BORDER SKETCHES. 8vo., paper cover, + reduced to 25c. + + ---- FORTUNES OF HECTOR O'HALLORAN. 8vo., paper cover, 50c.; 28 + plates; boards, $1. + + _MORTON MONTAGUE_; OR, YOUNG CHRISTIAN'S CHOICE. By C. B. + Mortimer. 12mo., cloth, 75c. + + _NATHALIE_. A Tale. By Julia Kavanagh, author of "Woman in + France," "Madeleine," &c. 12mo., paper, 75c.; cloth, $l. + + _NORMAN LESLIE_. A Tale. By G. C. H. 12mo., cloth, 75c; paper, + 50c. + + _ROSE DOUGLAS_; OR, THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A MINISTER'S DAUGHTER. By + S. R. W. 12mo., paper, 50c.; cloth, 75c. + + _SEWELL, E. M._--THE EARL'S DAUGHTER. 12mo., cloth, 75c; paper, + 50c. + + ---- AMY HERBERT. A Tale. 12mo., cloth, 75c.; paper, 50c. + + ---- GERTRUDE. A Tale. 12mo., cloth, 75c.; paper, 50c. + + ---- LANETON PARSONAGE. A Tale. 3 vols., 12mo., cloth, $2 25c.; + paper, $l 50c. + + ---- MARGARET PERCIVAL. 2 vols., cloth, $l 50; paper cover, $1. + + ---- WALTER LORIMER, and other Tales. 12mo., illus., 75c. + + ---- JOURNAL OF A TOUR, For the Children of a Village School. In + Three Parts, paper, each 25c. + + _SOUTHWORTH, E. D. E. N._. THE DESERTED WIFE. A Novel. 8vo., + paper, 38c. + + ---- SHANNONDALE. A Novel. 8vo., paper, 25c. + + ---- THE MOTHER-IN-LAW; OR, THE ISLE OF RAYS. A Novel. 8vo., + paper, 38c. + + _TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED_. A Story. By A. S. Roe, Author of "James + Montjoy," &c. 12mo., cloth, 63c.; paper, 38c. + + _USES_ (The) _OF SUNSHINE_. By S. M., Author of "The Maiden Aunt," + &c. 12mo., paper, 50c; cloth, 75c. + + _VILLAGE NOTARY_. A Romance of Hungarian Life. Translated from the + Hungarian of Eotvos. 8vo., paper, 25c. + + _ZSCHOKKE_.--INCIDENTS OF SOCIAL LIFE. 12mo., cloth, $1. + + +MISCELLANEOUS WORKS. + + APPLETON'S Library Manual. 8vo. Half bound, $1.25 + + ---- Southern and Western Traveller's Guide. With colored Maps. + 18mo. $1. + + ---- Northern and Eastern Traveller's Guide. Twenty-four Maps. + 18mo. $1.25 + + ---- New and Complete United States Guide-Book for Travellers. + Numerous Maps. 18mo. $2. + + ---- New-York City and Vicinity Guide. Maps. 38 cts. + + ---- New-York City Map, for Pocket. 12 cts. + + AGNELL'S Book of Chess. A complete Guide to the Game. With + illustrations by R. W. Weir. 12mo. $1.25 + + ANDERSON, WM. Practical Mercantile Correspondence. 12mo. $1.25 + + ARNOLD, Dr. Miscellaneous Works. 8vo. $2. + + ---- History of Rome. New Edition. 1 vol., 8vo. $3. + + ---- History of the Later Roman Commonwealth. 8vo. $2 50. + + ---- Lectures on Modern History. Edited by Prof. Reed. $1 25. + + ---- Life and Correspondence. By the Rev. A. P. Stanley. 2d + Edition. 8vo. $2. + + AMELIA'S Poems. 1 vol. 12mo. Cloth, $1 25; gilt edges, $1 50 + + ANSTED'S Gold-Seeker's Manual. 12mo. Paper, 25 cts. + + BOWEN, E. United States Post-Office Guide. Map. 8vo. Paper, $1; + Cloth, $1 25. + + BROOKS' Four Months among the Gold-Finders in California. 25 cts. + + BRYANT'S What I Saw in California. With Map. 12mo. $1 25 + + BROWNELL's Poems. 12mo. 75 c. + + CALIFORNIA Guide-Book. Embracing Fremont and Emory's Travels in + California. 8mo. Map. Paper. 50 cts. + + CARLYLE'S Life of Frederick Schiller. 12mo. Paper, 50 cts.; cloth, + 75 cts. + + CHAPMAN'S Instructions to Young Marksmen on the Improved American + Rifle. 16mo. Illustrated. $1 25. + + COOLEY, A. J. The Book of Useful Knowledge. Containing 6,000 + Practical Receipts in all branches of Arts, Manufactures, and + Trades. 8vo. Illustrated, $1 25. + + COOLEY, J. E. The American in Egypt. 8vo. Illustrated. $2. + + COIT, Dr. History of Puritanism. 12mo. $1. + + CORNWALL, N. E. Music as It Was, and as It Is. 12mo. 63 cts. + + COUSIN'S Course of Modern Philosophy. Translated by Wiecht. 2 + Vols., 12mo. $3. + + COGGESHALL'S Voyages to Various Parts of the World. Illus. $1 25. + + DON QUIXOTTE DE LA MANCHA. With 18 Steel Engravings. 16mo. Cloth, + $1 50. + + EMORY'S Notes of Travels In California. 8vo. Paper, 25 cts. + + ELLIS, Mrs. Women of England. 12mo. 50 cts. + + ---- Hearts and Homes: or Social Distinctions. A Story. Two Parts. + 8vo. Paper, $1; cloth, $1 50. + + EVELYN'S Life of Mrs. Godolphin. Edited by the Bishop of Oxford. + 16mo. Cloth, 50 cts.; Paper, 38 cts. + + FAY, T. S. Ulric; or, The Voices. 12mo. 75 cts. + + FOSTER'S Essays on Christian Morals. 18mo. 50 cts. + + FREMONT'S Exploring Expedition to Oregon and California. 25 cts. + + FROST, Prof. Travels in Africa. 12mo. Illustrated. $1. + + FALKNER'S Farmer's Manual. 12mo. 50 cts. + + GARLAND'S Life of John Randolph. 2 Vols., 12mo. Portraits, $2 50. + + GILFILLAN, GEO. Gallery of Literary Portraits. Second Series. + 12mo. Paper, 75 cts.; cloth, $1. + + ---- The Bards of the Bible. 12mo.; cloth, 50 cts. + + GOLDSMITH'S Vicar of Wakefield. 12mo. Illustrated. 75 cts. + + GOULD, E. S. "The Very Age." A Comedy. 18mo. Paper, 38 cts. + + GRANT'S Memoirs of An American Lady. 12mo. Cloth, 75 cts.; paper, + 50 cts. + + GUIZOT'S Democracy in France. 12mo. Paper cover, 25 cts. + + ---- History of Civilization. 4 Vols. Cloth, $3 50. + + ---- History of the English Revolution of 1640. Cloth, $1 25. + + HULL, Gen. Civil and Military Life. Edited by J. F. Clark. 8vo. + $2. + + HOBSON. My Uncle Hobson and I. 12mo. 75 cts. + + GOETHE'S IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. A Drama in Five Acts. From the + German by G. J. Adler. 12mo. 75 cts. + + KAVANAGH, JULIA. Women of Christianity, exemplary for Piety and + Charity. 12mo. Cloth, 75 cts. + + KENNY'S Manual of Chess. 18mo. 38 cents. + + KOHLRAUSCH'S Complete History of Germany. 8vo. $1 50. + + KIP'S Christmas Holidays at Rome. 12mo. $1. + + LAMB, CHAS. Final Memorials. Edited by Talfourd. 12mo. 75 cts. + + LAMARTINE'S Confidential Disclosures; or, Memoirs of My Youth. 50 + c. + + LEE, E. B. Life of Jean Paul F. Richter. 12mo. $1 25. + + LEGER'S History of Animal Magnetism. 12mo. $1. + + LETTERS FROM THREE CONTINENTS. By R. M. Ward. 12mo. Cloth, $1. + + LORD, W. W. Poems. 12mo. 75 c. + + ---- Christ in Hades. 12mo. 75 cts. + + MACKINTOSH, M. J. Woman in America. Cloth, 62 cts.; paper, 38 cts. + + MAHON'S (Lord) History of England. Edited by Prof. Reed. 2 Vols., + 8vo. $4. + + MICHELET'S History of France. 2 Vols., 8vo. $3 50. + + ---- Life of Martin Luther. 12mo. 75 cts. + + ---- History of Roman Republic. 12mo. $1. + + ---- The People. 12mo. Cloth. 63 cts.: paper, 38 cts. + + MATTHEWS & YOUNG. Whist and Short Whist, 18mo. Cloth, gilt, 45 + cts. + + MILES on the Horse's Foot; How to Keep it Sound. 12mo. Cuts. 25 + cts. + + MILTON's Paradise Lost. 38 cts. + + MOORE, C. C. Life of George Castriot, King of Albania. 12mo. + Cloth, $1. + + NAPOLEON, Life of, from the French of Laurent de l'Ardechee. 2 + Vols. in 1. 8vo. 500 Cuts. Im. mor., $3. + + OATES, GEO. Tables of Sterling Exchange, from L1 to L10,000--from + 1-8th of one per cent. to twelve and a half per cent., by + eighths, etc., etc. 8vo. $3. + + ---- Interest Tables at 6 per cent. per Annum. 8vo. $2. + + ---- Abridged Edit. $1 25. + + ---- Interest Tables at 7 per cent. per Annum. 8vo. $2. + + ---- Abridged Edit. $1 25. + + ---- Sterling Interest Tables at 5 per cent. per Annum, from L1 to + L10,000. 4to. $5. + + O'CALLAGHAN'S History of New York under the Dutch. 2 Vols. $5. + + POWELL'S Living Authors of England. 12mo. $1. + + REPUBLIC OF THE UNITED STATES; Its Duties, &c. 12mo. $1. + + REID'S New English Dictionary, with Derivations. 12mo. $1. + + RICHARDSON on Dogs. Their History, Treatment, &c. Cuts. 25 cts. + + ROBINSON CRUSOE. Only complete Edition. 350 Cuts. 8vo. $1 50. + + ROWAN'S History of the French Revolution. 2 Vols. in 1. 63 cts. + + SOYER'S Modern Domestic Cookery. 12mo. Paper cover, 75 cts; bd., + $1. + + SCOTT'S Lady of the Lake. 38 cents. + + SCOTT'S Marmion. 16mo. 37 cts. ---- Lay of the Last Minstrel. 25 + cents. + + SELECT Italian Comedies. Translated. 12mo. 75 cts. + + SPRAGUE'S History of the Florida War. Map and Plates. 8vo. $2 50. + + SHAKSPEARE'S Dramatic Works and Life. 1 Vol., 8vo. $2. + + SOUTHEY'S Life of Oliver Cromwell. 18mo. Cloth, 38 cts. + + STEWART'S Stable Economy. Edited by A. B. Allen. 12mo. + Illustrated. $1. + + SOUTHGATE (Bishop). Visit to the Syrian Church. 12mo. $1. + + SQUIER'S Nicaragua; Its People. Antiquities, &c. Maps and Plates. + 2 Vols., 8vo. $5. + + STEVENS' Campaigns of the Rio Grande and Mexico. 8vo. Paper, 38 + cts. + + SWETT, Dr. Treatise on the Diseases of the Chest. 8vo. $3. + + TAYLOR, Gen. Anecdote Book, Letters, &c. 8vo. 25 cts. + + TUCKERMAN'S Artist Life. Biographical Sketches of American + Painters. 12mo. Cloth, 75 cts. + + TAYLOR'S Manual of Ancient and Modern History. Edited by Prof. + Henry. 8vo. Cloth, $2 25; sheep, $2 50. + + THOMSON on the Food of Animals and Man. Cloth, 50 cts.; paper, 38 + cts. + + TYSON, J. L. Diary of a Physician in California. 8vo. Paper, 25 + cts. + + WAYLAND'S Recollections of Real Life in England. 18mo. 31 cts. + + WILLIAMS' Isthmus of Tehuantepec; Its Climate, Productions, &c. + Maps and Plates. 2 Vols., 8vo. $3 50. + + WOMAN'S Worth; or, Hints to Raise the Female Character. 18mo. 38 + cts. + + WARNER's Rudimental Lessons in Music. 18mo. 50 cts. + + WYNNE, J. Lives of Eminent Literary and Scientific Men of America. + 12mo. Cloth, $1. + + WORDSWORTH, W. The Prelude; An Autobiographical Poem. 12mo. Cloth, + $1. + + +=LAW BOOKS.= + + ANTHON'S Law Study; or, Guides to the Study of the Law. 8vo. $3. + + HOLCOMBE'S Digest of the Decisions of the Supreme Court of the + United States, from its commencement to the present time. Large + 8vo. Law sheep, $6. + + ---- Supreme Court Leading Cases in Commercial Law. 8vo. $4. + + ---- Law of Debtor and Creditor in the United States and Canada. + 8vo. $4. + + SMITH's Compendium of Mercantile Law. With large American addition + by Holcombe and Gholang. 8vo. $4 50. + + + + +APPLETONS' POPULAR LIBRARY. + + +=Now Ready.= + + ESSAYS FROM THE LONDON TIMES; A Collection of Personal and + Historical Sketches. 50 cts. + + THE YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS. By W. M. THACKERAY. 50c. + + THE MAIDEN AND MARRIED LIFE OF MARY POWELL: afterwards Mrs. + Milton. 50 cts. + + A JOURNEY THROUGH TARTARY, THIBET, AND CHINA. By M. HUC. 2 vols. + $1. + + THE PARIS SKETCH BOOK. BY W. M. THACKERAY. 2 vols. $1. + + GAIETIES AND GRAVITIES. BY HORACE SMITH, one of the Authors of the + "Rejected Addresses." 50 cts. + + THE INGOLDSBY LEGENDS. BY BARHAM. 50 cts. + + PAPERS FROM THE QUARTERLY REVIEW. 50 cts. + + LITTLE PEDLINGTON AND THE PEDLINGTONIANS. By the Author of "Paul + Pry." 2 vols. $1. + + A JOURNEY TO KATMANDU; OR, THE NEPAULESE AMBASSADOR AT HOME. BY + LAWRENCE OLYPHANT. 50 cts. + + THE BOOK OF SNOBS. BY W. M. THACKERAY. 50 cts. + + A BOOK FOR SUMMER TIME IN THE COUNTRY. By the REV. R. A. WILLMOTT. + 50 cts. + + STORIES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 50 cts. + + MEN'S WIVES. BY W. M. THACKERAY. 50 cts. + + LIVES OF WELLINGTON AND PEEL. 50 cts. + + ESSAYS FROM THE LONDON TIMES. Second Series. 50 cts. + + A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY, And several Sketches. BY W. M. THACKERAY. + 50 cts. + + * * * * * + + =Nearly Ready.= + + THE MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS OF THACKERAY. + + THEODORE HOOK'S LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS. + + A NEW VOLUME OF PAPERS FROM THE QUARTERLY REVIEW, &c. + + +=SCIENTIFIC WORKS.= + + APPLETON. Dictionary of Mechanics, Machines, Engine Work, and + Engineering, containing over 4000 Illustrations, and nearly + 2000 pages. Complete in 2 Vols., large 8vo. Strongly and neatly + bound, $12. + + APPLETON. Mechanics' Magazine and Engineers' Journal. Edited by + Julius W. Adams, C. E. Published monthly, 25 cents per No., or + $3 per annum. Vol. I for 1851, in cloth, $3 50. + + ARCHITECTURE AND BUILDING, Treatises on. By Hosking, Tredgood, and + Young. Illustrated with 36 steel plates. 4to. $3 50. + + ALLEN, Z. Philosophy of the Mechanics of Nature. Illus. 8vo. + $3 50. + + ARNOT, D. H. Gothic Architecture, Applied to Modern Residences. 46 + Plates. 1 Vol., 4to $4. + + ARTISAN CLUB. Treatise on the Steam Engine. Edited by J. Bourne. + 33 Plates, and 349 Engravings on wood. 4to. $6. + + BOURNE, JOHN. A Catechism of the Steam Engine. 16mo. 75 cts. + + BYRNE, O. New Method of Calculating Logarithms. 12mo. $1. + + BOUISSINGAULT, J. B. Rural Economy in its Relations with + Chemistry, Physics, and Meteorology. 12mo. $1 25. + + CULLUM, CAPT. On Military Bridges with India Rubber Pontoons, + Illustrated. 8vo. $2. + + DOWNING, A. I. Architecture of Country Houses. Including Designs + for Cottages, Farm Houses, and Villas; with Remarks on + Interiors, Furniture, and the best modes of Warming and + Ventilating; with 320 Illustrations. 1 Vol., 8vo. $4. + + ---- Architecture of Cottages and Farm Houses. Being the first + part of his work on Country Houses, containing designs for + Farmers, and those who desire to build cheap Houses. 8vo. $2. + + GRIFFITHS, JOHN W. Treatise on Marine and Naval Architecture; or, + Theory and Practice Blended in Ship-Building. 50 Plates. $10. + + HALLECKS. Military Art and Science. 12mo. $1 50. + + HAUPT, H. Theory of Bridge Construction. With Practical + Illustrations. 8vo. $3. + + HOBLYN, R. D. A Dictionary of Scientific Terms. 12mo. $1 50. + + HODGE, P. R. On the Steam Engine. 48 large Plates, folio; and + letterpress, 8vo. size. $8. + + JEFFERS. Theory and Practice of Naval Gunnery. 8vo. Illus. $2 50. + + KNAPEN, D. M. Mechanic's Assistant, adapted for the use of + Carpenters, Lumbermen, and Artisans generally. 12mo. $1. + + LAFEVER, M. Beauties of Modern Architecture. 48 Plates, large 8vo. + $4. + + LIEBIG, JUSTUS. Familiar Letters on Chemistry. 18mo. 25 cents. + + OVERMAN, F. Metallurgy; embracing Elements of Mining Operations, + Analyzation of Ores, &c. 8vo. Illustrated. + + PARNELL, E. A. Chemistry Applied to the Arts and Manufactures. + Illustrated. 8vo. Cloth, $1. + + REYNOLDS, L. E. Treatise on Handrailing. Twenty Plates. 8vo. $2. + + SYDNEY, J. C. Villa and Cottage Architecture. Comprising + Residences actually built. Publishing in Nos., each No. + containing 3 Plates, with Ground Plan, price 50 cents. (To be + completed in 10 Nos.) 1 to 6 ready. + + TEMPLETON, W. Mechanic, Millwright, and Engineers' Pocket + Companion. With American Additions. 16mo. $1. + + URE, DR. Dictionary of Arts, Manufactures, and Mines. New Edition. + with Supplement. 8vo. Sheep, $5. + + ---- Supplement to do., separate. 8vo. Sheep, $1. + + YOUMAN, E. L. Class-book of Chemistry. 12mo. 75 cents. + + ---- Chart of Chemistry, on Roller. $5. + + +=ILLUSTRATED STANDARD POETS.= + + + AMELIA'S Poems. Beautifully Illustrated by Robert W. Weir 8vo. + Cloth, $2 50; gilt edges, $3; imperial mor., $3 50; morocco, $4. + + BYRON'S Complete Poetical Works. Illustrated with elegant Steel + Engravings and Portrait. 1 vol., 8vo., fine paper. Cloth, $3; + cloth, gilt leaves, $4; morocco extra, $6. + + Cheaper Edition, with Portrait and 4 Plates. Im. morocco, $3; with + Portrait and Vignette only, sheep or cloth. $2 50. + + HALLECK'S Complete Poetical Works. Beautifully Illustrated with + fine Steel Engravings and a Portrait. New Edition. 8vo. Cloth, + $2 50; cloth extra, gilt edges, $3; morocco extra, $5. + + MOORE'S Complete Poetical Works. Illustrated with very fine Steel + Engravings and a Portrait. 1 vol., 8vo., fine paper. Cloth, $3; + cloth, gilt edges, $4; morocco, $6. + + Cheaper Edition, with Portrait and 4 Plates. Im. morocco, $3; with + Portrait and Vignette only, sheep or cloth, $2 50. + + SOUTHEY'S Complete Poetical Works. With several beautiful Steel + Engravings. 1 vol., 8vo., fine paper. Cloth, $3; gilt edges + $4 50; morocco, $6 50. + + THE SACRED POETS OF ENGLAND AND AMERICA, for Three Centuries. + Edited by Rufus W. Griswold. Illustrated with 12 Steel + Engravings. 8vo. Cloth, $2 50; gilt edges, $3; morocco extra, + $4 50. + + +=Cabinet Editions, at greatly Reduced Prices.= + + BUTLER'S HUDIBRAS. With Notes by Nash. Illustrated with + Portraits. 16mo. Cloth, $1; gilt edges, $1 50; moroc. extra, + $2. + + BURNS' Complete Poetical Works. With Life, Glossary, &c. 16mo. + Cloth, illustrated, $1; gilt edges, $1 50; morocco extra, $2. + + CAMPBELL'S Complete Poetical Works. Illustrated with Steel + Engravings and a Portrait. 16mo. Cloth, $1; gilt edges, $1 50; + morocco extra, $2. + + COWPER'S Complete Poetical Works. With Life, &c. 2 vols. in 1. + Cloth, $1; gilt, $1 50; morocco extra, $2. + + DANTE'S Poems. Translated by Carey. Illustrated with a fine + Portrait and 12 Engravings. 16mo. Cloth, $1; gilt edges, $1 50; + morocco extra. $2. + + HEMANS' Complete Poetical Works. Edited by her Sister 2 vols., + 16mo. With 10 Steel Plates. Cloth, $2; gilt edges, $3; morocco + extra, $4. + + MILTON'S Complete Poetical Works. With Life, &c. 16mo. Cloth, + illustrated, $1; gilt edges, $1 50; morocco extra, $2. + + TASSO'S Jerusalem Delivered. Translated by Wiffen. Illustrated. 1 + vol., 16mo. Uniform with "Dante." Cloth, $1; gilt edges, $1 50; + morocco extra, $2. + + SCOTT'S Poetical Works. With Life, &c. Cloth, 16mo., illustrated, + $1; gilt, $1 50; morocco extra, $2. + + +=RELIGIOUS.= + + ARNOLD'S Rugby School Sermons. 16mo. 50 cents. + + ANTHON'S Catechism on the Homilies. 18mo. 6 cents. + + ---- Early Catechism for Young Children. 18mo. 6 cents. + + A KEMPIS, Of the Imitation of Christ. 16mo. Complete Edition. 75 + cts. + + BURNETT'S History of the Reformation. Edited by Dr. Nares. 8 vols. + $2 50. + + ---- On the Thirty-nine Articles. Edited by Page. 8vo. $2. + + BRADLEY'S Family and Parish Sermons. Complete in 1 vol. $2. + + CRUDEN'S Concordance to the New Testament. 12mo. 50 cents. + + COTTER. The Romish Mass and Rubrics. Translated. 18mo. 88 cts. + + COIT, Dr. Puritanism Reviewed. 12mo. $1. + + EVANS' Rectory of Valehead. 16mo. 50 cents. + + EIGHT IN THE DWELLING. (A Practical Family Commentary on the Four + Gospels.) By the author of "Peep of Day." Edited by Dr. Tyng. + Illustrated 8vo. Cloth, $2; gilt edges, $2 50; im. morocco, + $3 50; morocco, $4 50. + + GRESLEY'S Portrait of an English Churchman. 50 cents. + + ---- Treatise on Preaching. 12mo. $1 25. + + GRIFFIN, G. The Gospel its own Advocate. 12mo. $1. + + HOOKER'S Complete Works. Edited by Keble. 2 vols. $4 50. + + IVES' (Bishop) Sermons. 16mo. 50 cents. + + JAMES' Happiness; Its Nature and Sources. + + JARVIS' Reply to Milner's End of Controversy. 12mo. 75 cents. + + KINGSLEY'S Sacred Choir. 75 cents. + + KIP'S Early Conflicts of Christianity. 12mo. 75 cents. + + LYRA APOSTOLICA. 13mo. 50 cents. + + MARSHALL'S Notes on Episcopacy. Edited by Wainwright. 12mo. $1. + + MANNING on the Unity of the Church. 16mo. 75 cents. + + MAURICE on the Kingdom of Christ. 8vo. $2 50. + + MAGEE on Atonement and Sacrifice. 2 vols., 8vo. $5. + + NEWMAN'S Sermons on Subjects of the Day. 12mo. $1. + + ---- Essay on Christian Doctrine. 8vo. Cloth, 75 cents. + + OGILBY on Lay Baptism. 12mo. 50 cents. + + PEARSON on the Creed. Edited by Dobson. Best Edition. 8vo. $2. + + PULPIT CYCLOPAEDIA AND MINISTER'S COMPANION. 8vo. 600 pages. $2 50. + + PSALTER (The), or Psalms of David. Pointed for Chanting. Edited by + Dr. Muhlenberg. 12mo. Sheep, 50 cents; half cloth, 38 cents. + + SEWELL. Readings for Every Day in Lent. 12mo. Cloth, 75 cents. + + SOUTHARD. "The Mysteries of Godliness." 8vo. 75 cents. + + SKETCHES AND SKELETONS OF 500 SERMONS. By the Author of "The + Pulpit Cyclopaedia." 8vo. $2 50. + + SPENCER'S Christian Instructed. 16mo. $1. + + SHERLOCK'S Practical Christian. 16mo. 75 cents. + + SPINCKE'S Manual of Private Devotion. 16mo. 75 cents. + + SUTTON'S Disce Vivere, Learn to Live. 16mo. 75 cents. + + SWARTZ'S Letters to My Godchild. 32mo. Gilt edge, 38 cents. + + TRENCH'S Notes on the Parables. 8vo. $1 75. + + ---- Notes on the Miracles of our Lord. 8vo. $1 75. + + TAYLOR'S Holy Living and Dying. 12mo. $1. + + ---- Episcopacy Asserted and Maintained. 16mo. + + WATSON'S Lecture on Confirmation. 18mo. Paper, 6 cents. + + WILBERFORCE'S Manual for Communicants. 32mo. Gilt edges, 88 cts. + + WILSON'S Lectures on Colossians. 12mo. 75 cents. + + ---- Sacra Privata. Complete Edition. 16mo. 75 cents. + + ---- Sacra Privata. 48mo. Cloth, 37 cents; roan, 50 cents. + + WHISTON'S Constitution of the Holy Apostles, including the Canons. + Translated by Dr. Chase. 8vo. $2 50. + + WYATT'S Christian Altar. New Edition. 32mo. Cloth, gilt edges, 38 + cts. + + + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: I know not the author of this beautiful hymn. It will be +found in a collection of great merit, called "Songs of the Night."] + +[Footnote 2: For this sketch, which for beauty of description, and wild, +thrilling interest, will compare favorably with any known to me, I am +indebted to my friend, Mr. C. Whitehead. M. J. Mc.] + +[Footnote 3: Plato calls Truth the body of God, and Light His shadow.] + +[Footnote 4: These lines were extracted from a satirical poem published +many years since, under the title of "The Devil's Progress."] + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Evenings at Donaldson Manor, by Maria J. McIntosh + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EVENINGS AT DONALDSON MANOR *** + +***** This file should be named 20018.txt or 20018.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/0/1/20018/ + +Produced by Ralph Janke and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** + |