ular wishes respecting his studies? have them selected with a view to ticular profession?" Will you any par"Why, my dear sir, it has pleased Providence to endow us with an ample fortune, and he is our only hope; of course we wish him to receive the education of a gentleman; but it is not probable he will ever have to work for his living." VOL. II. a plain grey suit, with a cane, and feet dusty from an apparently long walk, stopped before the door of the academy. He held by the hand a little boy. The new comers entered and the elder addressed himself to Mr. Robertson, with whom he had been previously acquainted, with the brevity of a man of business. "My son, Master George Steele, sir. I "Then I suppose a thorough English course wish to place him at your school. His trunk of lessons. Let him be well grounded in rhet-will be here immediately from the neighboring oric, mathematics, and 66 Oh, my dear sir, no. There is no use of his straining his tender mind with hard studies, make a gentleman of him, but not a pedagogue." Mr. Robertson smiled and bowed. "If there was the slightest possibility of his ever having to earn his own bread, it would alter the case; but you know, my dear sir, there must be a difference between poor people and rich." "He must learn music, then, suppose," said Mr. Robertson. "Oh, music, certainly, divine music. I wish him to read it at sight. You will find a guitar among his things; and I wish you to see particularly that he practises. You know that keeps him busy, and does not hurt his eyes. See," she added, affectionately placing her hand, glittering with jewels, beneath the youngster's chin, and pushing back the hair from his forehead,|| "dear little fellow, his eyes are already very weak." "Do you wish him to study any of the classical languages, madam?" "Who? what?" said Mrs. Green, looking up. "Latin and Greek, madam. Or, should you prefer Spanish and French ?" "Should you like to study Latin, and Greek, and Spanish and French, my dear Tom, or any of the other classical languages?" The boy sulked a little, put his finger in his mouth, and looked down on the floor; the mother kissed him again. "Oh do just as you like with him, Mr. Robertson; only be sure that you never punish him, if you please; he is VERY tender dispositioned, and can't bear to be whipped; and of all things make him attend to his music and dancing; and I wish very much to have him study Italian, it is so useful in singing. Pray my dear, stand up straight and be a good boy, and behave like a gentleman; and here's some money for you, my dear, and you shall often come home and town, where the stage left us." The conversation usual on such occasions then ensued.Inquiries into the boy's age, tastes, capacities, &c. were made and satisfied, and the directions of the parent given respecting the course of studies to be pursued. "Above all things," said Mr. Steele, "let him form habits of strictly moral conduct and of severe industry, and subject himself to the discipline of the school, without a murmur. If he does not like the place, he may quit it; but while in it, he must make no disturbance of any kind, but treat every one with respect. He will have to make his own way through the world. I have been unfortunate, and have nothing whatever to leave him but a good education. If he is worth any thing, this will be sufficient; if he is idle and irresolute, he will sink into poverty and neglect. Remember, George, what you learn here, will be your only fortune. At an expense which I can scarcely maintain, I furnish you with this opportunity of obtaining credit in the world. For all else that makes man respectable and happy, you must depend upon yourself. They shook hands and parted, and so the two boys commenced their education. The next important era in the lives of these young gentlemen, was the period of their quitting school. It was five years after the preceding circumstances, and they were both about sixteen years of age. It happened that at the same time there was a general examination in the academy, and the various attainments of George and Thomas were thereby disclosed. The latter showed to advantage in nothing except a declamation, recited with a considerable flourish of theatrical elegance, and a translation from the Italian, for which he received a medal. George, on the contrary, discovered a pervading knowledge of all necessary branches. He excited some asSo saying, although tears were in her eyes, tonishment by the rapidity and ease with for mothers are still mothers, whether learned which he replied to the casual interrogatories or not, she smiled graciously on Mr. Robert-of several men of science, in arithmetic, alson; kissed little Tom again and again; went away a few steps, came back, exclaiming, see us. gebra and the mathematics. Two essays from his pen, on law and political economy, were listened to with attention and interest; and in geography, and the various other ordinary departments of learning he appeared perfectly at home. The parents of both boys attended this ex No. 8. 66 hibition, and both were pleased. "Come, While this gradual but steady improveTom," said the mamma, kissing her darling, ment was working in the mind of George, "good bye to books and school for ever, and Thomas was leading a life of pleasure. He now for pleasure." Come, George," said had grown up an elegant looking young man, Mr. Steele, shaking the modest boy by the of great taste in points of fashion. His will hand, while a quiet smile of pride and pleasure was law respecting the cut of a coat or the stole over his features; "come, my boy; so far shape of a beaver; and a woman might fall you have done well. I am satisfied with you. || in love with him desperately until he had I am more than satisfied: I am PROUD of you. opened his mouth, when his first sentiment But," he added, checking himself, "my dear would break the spell. How had he spent his boy, you must not fall into the error of sup- life? What had he studied? What had he posing that your education is completed. You thought? What did he know? What could have things yet to learn of which you have he do? He was a proficient in horse-flesh. no idea. Do not be vain of what you have He could drive a tandam superbly. You could acquired. Although I am praising your past not touch him at billiards, and his dress was exertions, I praise you more for what I expect always exact and perfect; but his mind was you to do than for what you have done." uncultivated and so was his heart. He was prodigal, not generous; and he had never known friendship, because he had never felt want. 66 "I know, father," replied George, "it would be foolish in me to be proud, for I recollect having read the other day that Sir Isaac Newton said even of all His knowledge, that He was once trying a pair of splendid bays it seemed no more than a pebble is to the before a gig, on a pleasant summer afternoon. ocean." "Right, George, my son, perfectly The long train of gay promenaders on either right; so now let us return home, and teach side of the way, looked, admired, envied.you business and the world. All that you No one ever appeared better while driving. have learned here is but a weapon, which must A foot passenger, plainly but neatly dressed, now be used." But, father, Tom says he paused in the middle of the street to give him has finished his education." "No man's ed-passage. It was George. They had seldom ucation is finished until he is in his grave,' met since their school-days, but nevertheless said the father. And so the boys started in life. recognized each other and bowed. George We will imagine, if the reader pleases, that was carrying a large book under his arm.another period of five years has elapsed. The "What a fool is that plodding fellow!" said schoolboys have now grown up to manhood, Tom, as he quickened the pace of his horses both inspired in all their actions with the pre- with a resounding crack of the whip. How cepts of their parents. The one, that he I hate a bookworm! Step, you rascals!"would "never have to work for his living," "How finely Tom looks!" thought George. the other, that "for all that makes a man re- "I almost envy him those superb horses; but spectable and happy, he must depend upon no matter." himself." intelligent study, and moderation in all life's pleasures, and on the other by luxury and idleness. I caught Thomas one day alone.He seemed sad, and even thoughtful-a strange thing for him. They both passed on; one to spend the afAt the age of twenty one, George was ternoon and evening in smoking, drinking and taken into partnership with the house which carousing! the other to his humble home, to for five years he had served with the purest drink in with secret delight draughts of inintegrity and the most unremitting care.-.struction from a work of genius. While he devoted an ample portion of his At this period I happened to be well actime to the necessities of his avocation, he quainted with them, and had an opportunity still found leisure occasionally to run through of observing the different degrees of happia book, keeping alive his taste, and amusingness produced on the one hand by industry, his fancy. He had reviewed his school studies with great profit. His more matured understanding and experience let in light upon many passages which were before dark to him. Sometimes, indeed, he sighed as he beheld the fine equipages around him, and wished heaven had blessed him with a fortune; but again he felt that he was exempted from many temptations which surround the path of the more prosperous. His necessities had drilled him into a severe system of economy and habits of abstemiousness, by which his health remained firm and his mind cheerful, so that, when the reward of his unceasing labors flowed in upon him, he was prepared to avail himself of it to the best advantage. "Well, Tom, what's the matter?" He yawned, and stretched his limbs. “Really, I don't know, but I am wretchedly dull and stupid." "How can you be dull with every thing that is delightful at your command?"" "Well," he yawned again, "what you say is true. I don't know how it is, but I am fairly tired out. I can't contrive to get rid of my time." "Have you nothing to do?" 180 66 A Story of Real Life. Nothing: positively nothing." "It's a fine day, why not walk?" "I'm tired of walking. I hate walking. I never enjoyed a walk in my life. Riding has grown tedious, and sailing is horrid.” . "Suppose you try reading.' 66 Oh, dreadful! I could no more sit down and read a book than I could fly. I did drag through Waverly, but I was asleep, fast asleep, when I got to finis. I can't read-I've lost the relish. My mind wanders away over a thousand objects. I must have excitement, or I am miserable. The day to me is like a long and unpleasant journey; I am always tired to death before I get to the end. Oh, if some one would invent a method of passing away the time?" I bade him good bye, and left him again yawning and stretching his limbs. VOL. II. Having settled the matter thus to his satisfaction, he entered his home, and went to bed. The next day he wrote her and her father a letter. "The old gentleman will be out of his wits with joy," said he, as he pressed down the seal upon the yielding wax. The next morning the servant brought a letter. He reached out his hand, with the most self-com"Poor little placent feeling imaginable. thing! Let us see how passion looks in the pretty periods of the charming Henrietta." He read with a start, and sudden change of countenance" Deepest regret-highest estimation-valuable as a friend-painful necessity of declining." He loudly exclaimed with astonishment at an event so totally unexpected. How a man with such a fortune, and such a person, could be refused by a quiet, modest little girl like Henrietta Barton, was beyond his conception. But he was not a man: "There are others as good as Sometime afterwards I had occasion to spend an evening with George. I reproved to die of love. him for not having visited me. "I blame my-she, and not quite so particular." self," he said, "but I have scarcely leisure to A few weeks afterwards, Mr. George visit any one. My time is occupied continu- Steele's marriage with Henrietta Barton was "Saddle Surally. I never get through business until late announced in the daily prints. in the afternoon, and sometimes in the even-rey, John; quick, you rascal," said Mr. Tom ing; and as every prospect of my prosperity Green, when he read the paragraph. in the world depends upon my care and attention at the counting room, I am very industri. ous, I assure you.' 66 I have one more picture to show of each. Years passed on. One day a gentleman stepped from a gig, which had stopped before the "Are you not afraid," I asked, "that a too door of an elegant mansion, and inquired for severe application will warp your mind, and Mr. Green. "How is he to-day?" asked the injure your health?" "Oh, no, I am prudent doctor of the nurse. Worse, sir, much enough to avoid that. I have a most cheerful worse; his pains are excessive. He is peevish succession of employments, each in some way and disagreeable to his best friends." "Ay, uniting pleasure with utility. The only diffi-ay," observed the physician, "the gout is a culty I have is to get time for them all. The more I apply myself in this way, the more pleasure I take in applying myself. The most melancholy reflection I have, is, that, knowing as I do how short life is, the weakness of my body compels me to devote so much of it to sleep, or I regret that fortune has not placed in my hands the means to study with less interruption, to educate myself according to a higher standard, to travel, and thus obtain a wider field of observation." About a year had elapsed when the elegant Mr. Tom Green suddenly abandoned all his old haunts about town, left off smoking, drinking, and swearing, cut off his mustachios and whiskers, and made the following soliloquy to the moon one night as he was returning from an evening visit to Henrietta Barton: dreadful complaint." As he spoke, he entered the chamber where the poor invalid sat, writhing with the anguish of his excruciating disease, which had been brought on by inaction and high living. His face was bloated and flushed, and exhibited symptoms of excessive agony. We break abruptly from so unpleasant a scene, and stand for a moment within the halls of Congress. A deeply interesting question engages their attention, and a speaker rises. It is George. His words carry conviction to every heart. The murmur of acquiescence and approbation runs round among the crowd. He obtains the object for which he has exerted himself, and his name is full of honor. This is but a simple sketch, but it is founded on real life; and if I have attempted to in"She is poor, but I have money. I love troduce no startling incident or marvellous her, and it will be a noble action to choose character, more strongly to arrest the reader's such a creature, from no motive more selfish attention, it is because I have adhered closely than admiration. How surprised and delight- to the true career of two of my friends, one ed she will be when she receives my offer-of whom has been ruined by affluence, the when she is raised from her humble and quiet other elevated by poverty. sphere to my splendor and fashion. I think I ought to marry. I think I will marry her-I WILL marry her. The love that increases by degrees is so like friendship, that it can never be violent. No. 8. To a Friend-The First Error. For the Ladies' Garland. TO A FRIEND. Blest are these days; proud, happy days, But passing are those joyous hours, Which mark the young and gay, Ah! cank'ring care thou soon may'st know, Then, as thy memory backward turns, But soon that heart will be at rest, Bridgeport. N. S. W. THE FIRST ERROR. 181 bright to others-it seemed doubly so to them-and lost in the plenitude of their happiness, they forgot, if it ever entertained their minds, how much care and caution, what watchfulness and forbearance, what kindness and prudence, were necessary to secure the peace and tranquility they now enjoyed. Love does not always burn with the brightness of the first light; but it often grows more and more deep, sincere, and unchanging as time rolls away. The feelings remain as tender and susceptible, after the shield that protects them from every kind word or act has been broken. The business in which they were engaged was a prosperous one, and Henry was a man of business-industrious, attentive, and intelligent. Every one of them prophecied that they would speedily realize a splendid independence. They were the pride of the village. But how small a matter sometimes gives an unexpected direction to the fortunes of kingdoms, cities and individuals. It happened one afternoon, several months after her marriage, Mary had a little tea-party, at which several matrons of the village were present; and, as is often the case, a long and learned dissertation on the manner of managing husbands, had been given alternately by one and another; husbands and prudent wives know what such things amount to, and of how Mary Conway was the flower of her fa- much value they are to young house keepther's family. She was young, and well doers. Unfortunately, Henry returned in the I remember, she was beautiful-most beauti-evening, fatigued and weary, in both body ful. There is no object beneath the sun and mind, with the labors of the day, and took nothing in the wide world, full as it is of allurements, rich as it is in glorious premises, and golden hopes, and spirit-stirring dreams, that burns into the heart like the fresh vision of female loveliness in the heyday of the passions. There is something so pure and innocent, and holy, in the mild lustre of her eye; something so heavenly in the soft and gentle smile that plays upon the cheek and lips; so many attractions around her, that it seems to me a beholding intelligence from the courts above, would bend a moment to contemplate and consider, before he flew to the eternal throne to enter the crime of idolatry against her youthful worshipper, in the|| moment he had lost the recollection of his Creator in gazing upon her. I look back through a mist of years, but I see no object beyond it more distinctly than Mary Con his seat at the table. His favorite dish was not there. He inquired for it in a style that, perhaps, savored a little of reproach; it was unintentional. Mary was in the presence of her self-constituted preceptors; she was ashamed to appear submissive before them, and besides, her feelings were wounded by her husband's manner; she replied, as she thought, spiritedly; but it was really harsh! Henry cast a single glance across the table, pushed back his plate, and rising, left the room. It was the first error. They were both sensible of it in a moment; but who should make a first concession, where they were both very plainly wrong? As Henry walked down the street engaged in unpleasant meditations, and enveloping himself in gloom, a bright light from the upper window of the village inn attracted his notice; he stepped over; a party of gay young men were about setting down to supper; they urged him to join in the club; the temptation under such circumstances of the case was all powerful. Supper being over he delayed a little longer taking his leave; liquor was introduced, music came next, and cards followed; though he did not join in the last, he looked on the games without abhor 182 Approaching Dissolution-Midnight Meditations. VOL. II. rence, the dread he had been brought up in The torch of earthly hope burns dim, of evil had been broken. The Returning late at night, his spirits heated|| with wine, and the recollection of his wife's behaviour before him, he found her retired, || and passed the night in another room. morning brought a cool meeting; the formal interchange of a few words, and a parting without explanation or complaint. The seed of discontent was sown-it bore the fruit which might have been expected. His home was no longer the centre of attraction to Henry. His tavern companions were gay, good humored, and attentive, and he left the fireside of his own mansion-which no longer wooed him as zealously and comparatively as the ale house club, of which he was very soon the centre and the life. The second error was committed. And fancy spreads her wings no more, The pathway to eternal life! I said that hope had passed from earth, Of sinners saved and sins forgiven; When God shall guide my soul above, Though unseen by their friends, a dark cloud brooded over the fortunes of our young couple. It gathered blackness until perceptible to every eye; and when it burst, it car-Then shall each word, each note I raise, ried ruin and desolation with it. Driven to Burst forth in pealing hymns of praise, the dangerous company of dissipated and And all not offered at his shrine, fashionable men, Henry contracted all their Dear mother, I will place on thine. habits; he became a drunkard and a gamb- Saratoga Springs, November, 1838. ler, the domestic circle was deserted, and its obligations forgotten. Mary met her husband's harshness and faithlessness with reproaches and bitterness; they both began in error and continued so. By these occasional, long, and loud, and violent collisions, a fear-Hushed in grim repose, man dreams away his ful example was set before their children, existence in thoughtlessness and sleep. The who grew up disobedient, violent and passion- monarch that has ruled the day with his ate. And though for many years the im- lovely beams, resigns his dominion to the pearpending bolt of ruin was stayed, just abovely queen of night. Chill and dark is the air, their heads, at last it sped. Henry died a lingering and awful death. His estate was found insolvent; his children grew up in ruin; and Mary-the once beautiful and enchanting Mary Conway-ended her life in poverty and obscurity. Thus fatal, in its direct and natural consequences, was an errror; the offspring rather of accident than intention. I leave the moral for others to trace out and apply. APPROACHING DISSOLUTION. Oh mother, would the power were mine For the Ladies' Garland. MIDNIGHT MEDITATIONS. but the flower drinks vigor from the freshening dews. A flood of silvery light bathes wood, hill, valley and brooklet, and from a distant brake the plaintive whippoorwill echoes his tiny song. Save this, and the gurgling melody of the stream beside me, all is stillness. Yet it is enough to break the monotony of the scene; and the two organs of Nature's choir give a rich, full, swelling diapason to the voiceless solitude. From the earliest ages to the present time, poets, philosophers, sages, and others deeply learned in wisdom and classic lore, have poured forth their language of inspiration at the twilight hour; and it seems to me the have read, seemed to feel the "divinity stirmost fitting time for reflection. All of whom I ring within them." They soared on the wings of Fancy through the trackless ether, and read their history in the stars. They seemed to look still higher; and the manner in which they breathed forth the most touching pathos and smoothness of expression, invests me with the belief that the very portals of Paradise were thrown open to their vision, and they revelled in all the pleasures of a |