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gorean principle of silence, I returned to the solitary | absurdity. Being thus unfitted for fresh mental effort, study of Job's stereotype advertisement. Ac length 1 and my best days having been consumed in earnest was startled by a sudden and important change in this preparation for my chosen walk of life, I was under the enigma of typography. As I cast my eye one day necessity of following, though with a feeble mind and upon the paper, 1 perceived at once that Job's adver- broken heart, the course I had begun. My intervening tisement was lengthened. I could not be mistaken, for days have, therefore, all been spent in bringing to perits previous dimensions were engraven on my memory section the art of composing blanks. I soon found that too deeply to be razed. I soon discovered the occa- mere business-blanks had been already perfected by sion of the change. Beneath the usual laconic notice a business men; and I determined therefore to devote new sentence had been introduced, composed of seven myself to blanks of a superior order, and if possible to Fords: “Blanks for sale and executed to order.” I introduce this sort of composition into all the higher was at once relieved and disappointed; for I found that walks of public life. That I have not been influenced this idol of my imagination was a bona fide trader after by mercenary motives, is apparent from the long and all, just like his neighbors, and my reverence for him weary years of silence, during which I have been sank with my conviction of this fact. But, at the same laying out my strength in solitude, instead of thrusting time, a new mystery engrossed my thoughts. The vil- my unfinished projects on the notice of the public, or lage where I lived was sustained by manufactures, and the patent office. Having now approached so near even at that tender age, I knew its staple products, but perfection in the manufacture, as to feel secure of the the blank manufacture was entirely unknown to me. I result
, and being sensible of the approach of age, I am could dwell with painful pleasure on the successive constrained to guard against unknown contingencies steps by which I gradually formed a conception of this and human fraud, by laying a few samples of my art borel fabric, but I spare my readers the detail, and before the public. I request the use of a few columns, hasten to inforin them that my chronic doubt and won therefore, to exhibit my congressional, academical, conder was at length destroyed by my honored father's vivial, and other blanks, without note or comment, or placing in my hand a sample of the manufacture, which any thing to recommend, and them beyond their be told me was a “law blank.” The joy of the dis- own intrinsic merit. In the meantime I subscribe myself covery was lost in admiration of the blank itself, es- by that name which I have for years assumed. Your pecially when I had got possession of a number, and by friend, diligent comparison, had formed a just conception of the genus Blank. The singular vagueness and impersonality of these strange compositions, their punctilious abstinence from all details of time or place, their scru. pulous suppression of the names of individuals, and
THE COPY-BOOK. their studied ambiguity even in relation to the sex of the mysterious non-entity referred to, as evinced by the use of h--for his and her; together with the tantali- THE BALD MOUNTAIN. zing humor of the author, in encouraging the reader to expect some most particular and technical announce- While sojourning in this secluded spot of earth, I ment, and then leaving a chasm in the very spot which joined an equestrian party in a visit to a remarkable ought to give the information-all these peculiarities of mountain about thirty miles distant. The party constyle
, while they perplexed me, charmed me too, and sisted of eight; three of them “bonny, sweet, sonsie I became intoxicated with a fond ambition to employ lasses.” The first day we rode twenty miles along the my time and talents as a writer of blanks. Never shali bank of the river mentioned before, which we forded, I forget the day on which I mustered courage to com- and that night lodged at a farm-house. Next day municate this purpose to my father. The loud laugh of crossed mountain-spurs and ridges ; our road a narrow derision which assailed my ear, when I expected his curnpike winding around the declivilies of the mounapplause and admiration, went like a dagger to my tains, from which we occasionally caught glimpses of heart; but even that pang was forgotten in the shock the vale beneath ; and at night we took up our quarters which was to follow. 'I shudder when I think of the in a log-house at the foot of the mountain which we cold blooded irony and undisguised contempt with had come to visit. which my heartless parent heard and answered my Next morning, taking a guide along, we ascended appeal to the distinguished reputation of Job Printing the mountain until our way became so steep that we as a proof that the blank business was both lucrative found it necessary to dismount and lead our horses. and honorable. Never let me feel again what I then At length, after considerable fatigue, we came to the felt
, on being told that my imaginary man was a me- top of the near Bald; from this we had an extensive chanical operation, his Jewish name an English noun, and delightful prospect ; the air grew chilly, and all our his surname a mere participle! Those who have ex- cloaks were put in requisition. After a short pause, perienced the sudden demolition of long cherished fan- we went on to the far Bald, which we found a good cies, may, perhaps, appreciate my feelings at that mo- deal higher than the near, and the air as cold as winter. ment
. May they never feel the consequences which I From this point the prospect on every side was vast, felt
. My intellectual being had been so bound up in various, magnificent. the existence, personality, and future acquaintance of The smoky haze of Indian summer, threw a soft the great Job Printing, that his sudden disappearance and dreamy veil over the scene. from the catalogue of entities, impaired my under. Around on every hand lay a wide sea of mountains, standing. Let this be my excuse for incoherence or furrowed, ridged, peaked, with here and there a black
spot, the purple shadow of a cloud. In the distance the growth of centuries, are reduced in a brief hour to we beheld broad plains, and the speck of a village and blue smoke and volatile gas. the meandering course of a stream ; while in another The land once cleared, is exhausted by an uninterdirection we recognised the river along which we had rupted succession of crops ; until the proprietor, grown rode in the deep ravine of two mountains, glittering dissatisfied, sells out to some less opulent or less avarilike molten silver in the sun.
cious neighbor, and either retires upon a fortune, or This mountain is named Bald, from its being desti- removes io some new Elysium in the woods. tute of trees on top, which is owing, I suppose, to its There is nothing new under the sun: the same wasteheight and extreme cold. It abounds in deer and bears, ful process has been at work in all the southern states; and is much resorted to by hunters.
in which, perhaps, none of the soil retains its original We descended, and passed the night again at the fertility, except the deep alluvial banks of the rivers, log-house aforesaid. Next morning we took an early and even they begin to feel the effects of wear and tear. start, and found the mountain air very cold, but my The consequence of all this is twofold; first, the poverty fair companion bore it in so soldier-like a style, I was of the soil has driven a portion of the population to ashamed to complain much.
emigrate ; second, a reaction has ensued in the system As we wound along our spiral turnpike, the sun of agriculture; and the means are employed to renovate began to gleam from his chamber in the east ; huge the constitution of a soil worn out by cultivation, until clouds of snowy mist were to be seen slowly rising “ the wilderness again blossoms like the rose.” from the chasms beneath. It was October; the foliage of the trees was arrayed in purple and gold and crimson.
When the morning beams first stream through these painted leaves of autumn, it is a spectacle of
LINES TO A LADY. beauty, compared with which the dim lustre of a cathedral window is a mere trifle, a Gothic toy.
Oh give me a tress of that sunny lock,
Which waves o'er thy forehead fair,
Like the clustering vine on the polished rock
With its lendrils bright, that seems to mock There is not much variety in a cotton plantation :
The soft breeze that kisses it there. the fields being very large, and only a succession of rows of the cotton plant, or of corn.
Or weave me a chain of its silken fold, Besides the dwelling-house, there are negro-quarters,
As light as the gossamer's wing, corn-cribs, stables, sheep-house, carriage-house, smoke.
Though soft and slight be its meshes of gold, house, carpenter's shop, blacksmith's shop, gin-house,
My faithful heart will it ever hold hen-house, turkey-house, bake-house, overseer's house,
Safe by the slenderest ring. loom-house, and kitchen. At ten o'clock a horn is
Then give me a tress of that golden hair, blown to call the negroes to their breakfast of bacon
For thy lover so faithful and true! and corn-bread. The women, in the winter, are em
Thro' far distant lands in my bosom I'll bear ployed in spinning and weaving; each one having a
That little tress as a talisman rare, daily task allotted ; which she brings in at night. The
To restore me to hope and to you. dwelling-house is usually built of logs: after the lapse of some years, perhaps it is plastered within and She severed a tress of her beautiful hair, weather-boarded without, and thus undergoes a meta
For a lover so warm and so true, morphosis.
And the gay ringlet glittered with one bright tear, On a spring morning you awake at the song of the As he placed in his bosom a pledge so dear, mocking.bird : mists are suspended over the fields ; the And she sighed on that bosom, Adieu! trees are in blossom and the flowers in bloom; the bee is humming in the air; the martens have returned to their boxes, and the sun scatters the rosy light of beau
REFLECTION ty over all the landscape. In the yard the gobbler is strutting with all the pomposity of an alderman, amidst
On the Deceitful Appearances of Human Affairs. the feathered tribes. About the kitchen is a squad of negro children, sunning themselves. About the house a Oh! thus 'tis ever, in this world of woe! spoilt boy may be heard crying for bread and butter, or Life's stream runs smoothest-most unchecked seen persecuting young birds.
When its bright waters onward flow
Toward misfortune's cataract.
Agriculture in new countries is carried on in an ex
Thomas Goff, in the reign of James I. was highly hausting and improvident manner. It is quite shocking praised as a tragic writer. In one of his tragedies, to see the prodigal waste of timber consumed in clearing Amurath, the Turk coming on the stage, and seeing a plantation in the west. Entire primitive forests are an appearance of the heavens being on fire," breaks girdled, and rot away, food for the woodpecker species
, forth in the following strain : (which, by the way, is very numerous in this country,)
“ How now ye Heavens! grow ye so high and proud or are at once felled with the axe and burned in heaps :
That ye must needs put on these curled locks thus many square miles of sturdy oaks and hickories, And clothe yourselves in periwigs of fire ?"
seriously, I hope to love my wife, should I ever THE GAME OF CHESS.
marry, with my whole soul. What misery to By the Authoress of “The Cottage in the Glen," " Sensi. have one with such discordant qualities, as would bility," " Losing and Winning,” “Fashionable and Unfash. alternately kindle and quench the flame of affecignable Wife," &c.
lion! The heart must soon wither under such a "I can scarcely believe my senses,” said Mr. process! It is my full belief, that Chauncey, as he was one morning sitting with
"L'hymen et ses liens Mrs. Atkins; “I can scarcely believe my senses, Sont le plus grands ou des maux ou des biens,' when I see my old classmate, whom I left just out and I would therefore use circumspection in a of college, and my little friend, Susan Leigh, matter of so much consequence. Let me rather whom I found sitting on her father's knee, when I pursue the journey of life alone, than to feel a called to take leave before my departure for Eu- doubt whether the society of my wife will increase rope—now married-settled-established in life! or diminish my happiness! Should my heart ever It seems impossible! I have always thought of be warmed to love,” he added, while his eyes you as a child !"
beamed in a manner that showed how deeply he Mrs. Atkins smiled. “You forget that we are could love—“Should my heart ever be warmed all six years older than when you left us; and to love, may its fire be unceasingly fed by the perhaps you forget, too, that I was the youngest same gentle hand that first kindled the flame-and child, and had the privilege of sitting on my may it burn brighter and clearer, until lost in that father's knee much longer than daughters are world, the only element of which is love! May wont to do. You and Charles are about the same my wife be a gentle spirit to accompany me in the age, and I am but five years my husband's junior. path to heaven, and lure me back to it, if tempted Do you feel too young to marry?”
to stray—and not a scourge to drive me thither as “O, no,—I am now six-and-twenty-one year the only place of refuge from herself!" your husband's senior; and now that my wander- “You have grown so solemn, Mr. Chauncey," ings are over, I should really like to marry soon, said Mrs. Atkins," and seem to look for a wife so could I find a woman possessing those qualities free from human imperfections, so angelic, that I I wish in a wife, who would unite her fate with am almost afraid to tell you that I am expecting a mine."
visit from two of my young friends, with one or “I conclude your taste has become fastidious, other of whom I had hoped you might be pleased.” from your observation of beauty and accomplish- “I do not expect freedom from human imperments in Europe," said Mrs. Atkins.
fections, Mrs. Atkins; but I do hope for freedom "No-not exactly so—but from close observa- from gross defects. But who are these friends of tion of domestic life, I design to be guided by judg- whom you speak?” ment, rather than fancy in my choice; and sin- “The eldest, who is not far from my own age, cerely hope I shall never be so much fascinated by is my couzin, Augusta Leigh-and the other is the charms of any one, as to be unable to form a Abby Eustace, my favorite school-friend, who is correct opinion of her real character.”
two years younger.” “You will not find it particularly easy to fall in “And can you tell me nothing concerning them love designedly,” said Mrs. Atkins, laughing; but their names and ages ?” asked Mr. Chauncey. “nor to save yourself from falling in love, by the “No-positively I will tell you nothing else, efforts of reason and judgment. Of one thing, except that either of them is pretty enough for a however, your remark has satisfied me-at pre- man who does not make beauty his first requisite sent you are completely heart-whole.”
in a wife ; and each has fortune enough for one “ That is certainly true; and it is equally true who does not marry expressly for money. This that I am perfectly willing to fall in love with the is all I will tell you; but as they will be here in first lady I meet, with wbom there is a reasonable the course of a week, you will have opportunity bope of living happily."
of studying their respective characters for your"You really contemplate the subject with the self.” most enviable coolness,” said Mrs. Atkins, again After a few minutes' thoughtful silence, Mr. laughing. “I do not recollect to bave heard any Chauncey said young gentleman talk of love and matrimony “No, Mrs. Atkins, I think I shall not be faswith such perfect calmness and self-possession. tidious ; I think I shall be able to overlook imperHow charming it will be, should the lady of your fections in my wife, as I hope she would be willing choice exercise as much judgment, and have as to do in me. Qualities and acquirements which little enthusiasm as yourself! Truly, nothing many might deem indispensable, I could dispense would he likely to disturb 'the even tenor of your with; but there is one quality that I consider of way! »
primary importance-and next to pure and firm " It is very possible to talk of fire without grow- principles, that is what I shall seek for in my ing warm," said Mr. Chauncey, smiling. “ But I choice.”
6 And what is that?" asked Mrs. Atkins. turn came, her color was heightened to a burning
“ You will forgive me if I do not answer that glow, and a slight and rather tremulous courtesy, question. I wish to observe and judge for myself, was the only answer she made to the few words of and shall be more likely to judge correctly, if it is compliment be uttered.—“Has he forgotten!" not known for what I am looking.”
thought she, as she resumed her seat_" Can he “ Well,” said Mrs. Atkins, “ you appear very have forgotten?" moderate and reasonable in your demands—and Mr. Chauncey lengthened his visit to nearly an yet, were 1 an unmarried lady, I should be more hour, but it differed not materially from other afraid of you than of any young gentleman I have visits of a similar kind. The conversation was of seen. Really, you are so calm, and reasonable, a general and desultory character, and carried on and scrutinizing, as to be quite terrifying. Give in a lively manner by Mrs. Atkins, Mr. Chaunme the creature of impulse—of passion-of enthu- cey, and Miss Leigh-Miss Eustace never uttersiasm, who will be too much carried away with ing a word, except when directly addressed. On his own feelings, to be able to investigate my cha- taking leave, Mr. Chauncey promised to profit by racter too nicely; whose warm imagination will the invitation of Mrs. Atkins, to visit them very clothe me in virtues and attractions of its own frequently. He was literally in search of a wife ; rosy hues. Surely,” she added, after a moment- and it was his wish to become really acquainted ary pause, “Surely had Charles been of your with those young ladies he met, in whom there temperament, I should never have known the hap- was nothing which from the first moment told him piness of being his wife !"
that an union with them was impossible. The
two friends of Mrs. Atkins were certainly not of One day, about a week after the preceding con- this number, and his study of their characters versation had taken place, Mrs. Atkins was seated soon became deeply interesting : that of Miss in her parlor with her two friends, who had ar- Leigh, because she had a great deal of character; rived a day or two before, when Miss Leigh, rais- was free, entertaining, even fascinating in convering her eyes from the work that was in her hand sation, with a heart overflowing with kindly feelto an opposite window, inquired who the elegant ings, and a head filled with noble sentiments and looking young man was, conversing with a lady, independent thought; that of Miss Eustace, beon the other side of the street.
cause he had to judge her by her countenance, as "That?” said Mrs. Atkins, advancing to the she was extremely retiring and taciturn when he window—" that is Mr. Chauncey, one of Charles's was present. Her face, however, was no very old friends."
dull study; for of her, if of any one, it might per“ Horace Chauncey, who recently returned haps have been said—“ her body thought;" and from Europe?" asked Miss Leigh.
occasionally, when he met her eye, there was a “ The same," answered Mrs. Atkins. “ He flash across his memory of something he had long will give us a call, presently, I dare say, as he before seen, or felt, or dreamed—añ undefinable comes here very often.”
sensation of pleasure, but too evanescent to be Before Mr. Chauncey arrives, there is just time caught or retained. to sketch a basty outline of the portraits of the two “How do you like Susan's guests, Horace?" young ladies. Miss Leigh was tall, well made, Mr. Atkins inquired one day, after Mr. Chauncey and commanding in her person. Her face was had seen them a number of times. brilliant, with black eyes, and dark hair, but “ How am I to form an opinion of Miss rather pale than otherwise, except when tinted by Eustace?” asked Mr. Chauncey. “She indeed some degree of excitement Miss Eustace was looks very much alive, but never utters a word rather below the medium stature of woman, beau- when she can avoid it." tifully formed, and the most cheerful, happy look- “ How !” said Mr. Atkins. “I have never dising creature in the world. Her eyes, shaded by covered that she is not as conversable and enterlong silken lashes, were of an undefinable color, taining as Augusta, and far more playful.” and were dark or light, as intellect and feeling “ Indeed!” said Mr. Chauncey. “But it has were awakened, or lay quiet. Her face was certainly not been so when I have met them. I blooming; yet the color was so constantly chang-think Miss Leigh peculiarly brilliant and pleasing ing its shade, that it seemed but the attendant on a in conversation. She appears to be a fine-a noble heart “ alive to every touch of joy or woe.”
Mrs. Atkins was right. In a few minutes Mr. “ They are both fine, noble girls,” said Mr. Chauncey came in, and was made acquainted with Atkins. “It is not every day that we meet those the young ladies. When Miss Leigh's name was who are equally so." mentioned, she calmly raised her eyes, and an- Mr. Atkins had not often been at home when swered his civilities with the self-possession that is his friend was at his house, but Mr. Chauncey's common to well-bred young ladies, on being made remark led him to notice Miss Eustace particuknown to a stranger; but when Miss Eustace's iarly whenever he witnessed their succeeding in
terviews. One evening Mr. Chauncey was with blooming face ; " make me look as pretty as you them, and Mr. Atkins chanced to be seated a little possibly can.” apart from his wife, her cousin, and Mr. Chaun- “ There !” said Mr. Atkins, after drawing the cey, who were, as usual, in the full tide of cap a little more on one side ; “I will leave it to conversation, when Miss Eustace, on rising to the company is that is not a great improvement. leave the room, passed near him. He caught her Now, Augusta, let me try my hand at yours.” hand, and drawing her toward him, said, in a low “No, thank you, sir," said Miss Leigh, elevattone
ing her head, while her color was somewhat " Where is your voice this evening, Abby?" heightened—"I will wear my cap according to my “My voice!” said Miss Eustace.
own taste this morning, if you please.” “0, I am glad you have not lost it-but why “0, I beg a thousand pardons for my presumphave you not spoken for these two hours?” tion,” said Mr. Atkins—". Your taste is certainly
“ And have I not?” asked Miss Eustace. much more correct than mine– I really beg your “Scarcely," answered Mr. Atkins.
pardon.” “Then I suppose it was because I had nothing Miss Leigh made no reply, but gave her band to say," said the smiling girl.
to Mr. Chauncey, who was waiting to receive it, “But you are not usually so silent,” remarked and the little party immediately started on their Mr. Atkins.
For awhile they all were rather silent, "Perhaps it would be better if I were. But and seemed entirely engrossed in the management truly, though you may doubt it, there are times of their horses; but the weather was charmingwhen I had much rather listen than talk." their exercise exhilarating; and ere long each one
“ Especially when my friend Horace is exert- was enjoying a fine flow of spirits. They rode ing his colloquial powers! hey?"
several miles, and on their return home encoun“ Just as you please, sir,” said Miss Eustace, tered a company of Irish people, men, women, again smiling, but with some little appearance of and children. They looked way-worn and weary; embarrassment, and withdrawing her hand, she and the faces of some of the children even wore left the room.
an expression of anxiety and depression, as if they Mr. Chauncey did profit by the invitation of felt all the force of the friendlessness, the helpnessMrs. Atkins, to visit her very frequently. Missness of strangers in a strange land. Mr. Atkins Eustace interested him. He loved, when not too and his friends stopped to talk with them a few much engrossed in conversation himself, to watch minutes, and bestow charity according to each the bright, the cheerful, the intellectual, the ever one's ability or inclination, and then rode on. Farying expression of her countenance. Her eyes "O, Mr. Chauncey," said Miss Leigh, in a seemed fountains of light, and love, and happiness; low tone, after riding a little way in silence, and the dimples about her mouth and cheeks, the “ what pitiable objects those people were! As very abode of joy and content. There was some good by nature, and undoubtedly, some of them thing about her to soothe and exhilarate at the at least, much more amiable in disposition than same time. But Miss Leigh soon awakened in myself-why is it that there is so vast a differhim a deeper, a more engrossing interest. Herence in our lots? How is it that I can ever be talents, which were neither concealed nor dis- ungrateful or perverse, while thus distinguished played, commanded his admiration; her compas- by unnumbered and undeserved blessings!" Her sionate feelings and elevated principles won his tone was that of the deepest sympathy and huesteem; so that scarcely three weeks had elapsed mility, and her eyes were swimming in tears as from the commencement of his acquaintance with she spoke. ber, ere he was more sedulously aiming to learn Had Mr. Chauncey uttered the thought of his how he might render himself acceptable to her, heart, he would have told her, that she was the than to ascertain whether the indispensable quality most amiable, the most lovely, the most deserving for a good wife, was a component part of her cha- among the whole family of man! And his eyes racter.
did utter it, so far as eyes are capable of utterance, One fine morning, Mr. and Mrs. Atkins, Mr. though his tongue only spoke of the vast disparity Chauncey, and the young ladies, were to go out on that Infinite Wisdom sees best to make in the outborseback. The three former were ready and ward circumstances of his creatures in this world. waiting in the parlor, when the two latter came When about taking leave at Mr. Atkins' door, from their chamber.
Mr. Chauncey received a pressing invitation to " You have very becoming riding-caps, young return to take tea, and spend the evening-an ladies," said Mr. Atkins, “ but I think neither of invitation he promptly accepted. you have put them on quite right. Come, Abby," At an early hour in the evening Mr. Chauncey he added, playfully,“ let me adjust yours more to was seated amid his circle of friends in Mrs. my mind.”
Atkins' parlor. Before tea was brought in, and "0, do,” said Miss Eustace, holding up her while at the table, conversation flowed as usual ;