He heard Fanny

amongst their servants, putting all sorts of fool- of vexation and mortification. ishness in their heads, and making 'em discon- say, "No danger of that, mammy, Mr. Livingstented. I said to Mr. Smith's Jim, when he was tone has seen too many fine ladies to think of telling me some of them things Mr. Jarvis said, me." She went quickly away, as she said these says I, what did Mr. Jarvis give you when he words, and Henry could hear old Judy mutterwent away? He said, he did'nt give me nothing some disparaging sentence in reply about ing. Well, says I, there it is--that shows what a himself. He was now quite convinced, not only mighty friend he is never even gave you a chaw that his passion was unrequited by Fanny, but of tobacco. Now, who took care of you, when that she was quite unconscious of its existence, you was so sick last winter, Jim; did'nt your for he was sure that there was not one spark of missus give you physic with her own hands, coquetry or insincerity in her composition. The did'nt Miss Sarah make flannel for you-and don't first step was not taken, and a feeling of desyour Mas Tom give you quarters and chaws of pondency came over him-the prize seemed tobacco many and many's the time; and besides, every minute brighter, fairer and more unattainwho stood your friend at the time of the great to able. Yet it is hard to destroy hope in the hearts do, when Mr. Smith's barn was broken open. of those who have never experienced any severe Ah! you've got a mon'sous good master, Jim, disappointment, and Henry began again to rebut some niggers are so foolish, they don't know construct the glittering web, which Fanny's light when they are well off." laugh and careless tones had brushed away. He had heard not the most remote hint of a rival, and if her heart was unoccupied, he would not despair of winning it.

"Yes," said Fanny, "what you say is very true, if Mr. Jarvis had been a real friend to black people, he would not have taken this way of showing it."

He retraced his path a part of the way, then, "I know'd that, honey, and it made me so mad filled with agitating and unpleasant thoughts, with Jim, to hear what foolishness he ran on, struck across the fields, and passed a settlement that I talked right up and down to him, for I've of negro cabins. In another mood, he would known him ever since he was a child; besides, have paused and talked with the children he saw he married into the estate, so we may say he is playing about in the yards, for the peculiar ways one of the family like. But don't say nothing of talking and thinking of this singular race of about what I've been telling you, if you please, people awakened his interest and curiosity, but for I don't want to make no mischief upon Jim; at present, he could not brook the idea of being but as soon as I heard that Northeru gentleman was staying here, I laid off to tell you all about Mr. Jarvis, that Mas Phil might watch him, and if he goes walking about amongst the cabins, or in the field, Mas Phil can go about with him, in a careless sort of a way, you know, like he was going with him for company."

66

But mammy, Mr. Livingstone is a real gentleman-he would not act so meanly."

66

suspected, even by old Judy, of the meanness of enacting the fable of the viper and the hedgehog. He observed, however, in passing, that the cabins, like the dwellings of a free population, were characterized by the peculiar turn of their possessors. The yards before most of the cabin doors were neatly swept, and large gardens attached to many of them, filled with vegetables and corn-patches, rudely, but substantially inAh, now, don't you trust to that; I don't closed, with that species of inclosure, the existreckon there's any high blood amongst them ence of which, Michaux mentions in his work on Northern folks, like there is in old Virginny. forest trees as peculiar to Virginia, and almost That was the way they talked about Mr. Jarvis, incredible to relate, from its destructiveness of they said he was so high larnt, he talked all sorts young trees, namely, a watlin, a horror with of outlandish talk, and played on Miss Sarah's pi- which the Eastern Virginians are so familiar, as aney. I has heard of gentlemen's playing on the to be unconscious of its enormity. A rose bush flute and the fiddle, but I never saw men play- or two, some tall sunflowers, and bright bunches of ing on the pianey, except the old music master, marygolds, were seen in the gardens of the most so I said, when I heard about it, I reckoned thrifty and the neatest of this little community, the man had been a music-master in his own but a few of the other cabins exhibited the negro country. Miss Sarah wouldn't hear it, and went character in its most genuine form; dirty yards, on praising him until at last he had the impu- rags stuffed in the crevices of their houses, gardence to court her, and I should'nt be surprised dens overrun with weeds, and scarcely an atif this gentleman had the assurance to be think-tempt at an inclosure around them. In a word, ing about you, Miss Fanny." they enjoyed the privilege, for such many negroes consider it, of being as uncomfortable and as unthrifty as they pleased.

For the first time, Fanny's clear, silvery laugh, fell painfully on Henry's ear, and he shrank more closely behind the screen with mingled feelings"

Taken collectively, however, this little settle

ment conveyed to the observer the idea of a | His answers were made in his own homely, but happy community, and excited many doubts and expressive language, yet showed plainly that he speculations in Henry's mind, as to whether these had been carefully instructed, and that he was negroes, putting aside the name of slavery and acquainted with the elementary truths of the all its associations, did not really enjoy in such a Gospel, and the true meaning and purport of the situation as this, as great a degree of happiness, passage he had repeated from Scripture. and even freedom, so far as they were fitted for "What patience, what high, disinterested, reliit, as in any other situation in which they could gious principle-what philanthropy in the truest be placed in the present state of things. An sense of the word, must teaching such as this outcast population they certainly were in the require," thought Henry, "from such a b. ing, too, States which boasted of being free States, and as Fanny Seyton. What a sacrifice of time, too, here in a slave State he found them existing does it involve, from one who has so many inin communities, enjoying the rude and simple ternal and external sources of enjoyment in her pleasures for which their degree of cultivation own bright imagination and rare intellect, and in fitted them, cared for in sickness and age, never the society of friends to whom she is warmly knowing the presence of extreme want, or the attached; what self-denial in exchanging purcare of providing subsistence for their families, suits congenial to her taste, and such as most and living under a sort of parental as well as young ladies would think they were doing a duty absolute control. to themselves to pursue to the utmost their leisure would allow, for the task of enlightening, by the slow and tedious method of oral instruction, minds in gross, mental darkness! And yet, how improving such a mental exercise would be, to those who had the patience to impart such instruction, not only to the spiritual, but the intellectual nature of the instructor! How much might be learned in this way of intellectual prowess, by watching the first rude attempts at generalization, reasoning, deduction, when the ideas are just struggling from the chaos of thick darkness to light!"

Henry's mind was candid—his love of truth ardent yet he revolved these new ideas with much diffidence and distrust, fearing lest the engrossing passion of his soul should give a false brilliancy of coloring to all objects associated, in any degree, with one, who embodied the types which had existed in his mind of all that is fair, bright or excellent. He determined to consider the matter deeply and impartially, and as he was walking along the fields, deep in thought, his attention was arrested by the sound of children's voices, and as he approached more nearly, he heard distinctly one of these children repeating to another some verses from the Sermon on the Mount.

Such warm admiration of moral excellence, divested of all the embellishments of fancy and romance, was highly honorable to the heart of a

"Is that right, Billy?" said the child to his young man, who had been educated like Henry companion.

"Well, t'aint exactly right now listen to me, I'll learn it to you. Miss Fanny said I could say it all without missing a word."

Henry paused, and having spoken kindly to these children, asked the little boy who had undertaken the office of instructor, and who had indeed repeated correctly a large portion of the Sermon on the Mount, who it was that had taught him to repeat so many verses from the Bible.

"Miss Fanny, sir-she taught me, and this here boy, and all the children on the plantation." "And what else does she teach you?" "To say hymns and catechism, sir."

Livingstone, who possessed, too, an exquisite taste for the beautiful in all its forms, and consequently appreciated accomplishments very highly. But love in his case, instead of exerting his usual power of blinding his votaries, had, like Ithuriel's spear, awakened his mind to higher and purer perceptions of truth; and the loveliness of moral and spiritual beauty had never appeared to him so far exalted above all the outward attractions and accomplishments, which the world especially delights to honor.

He thought of Fanny's speech to old Judy, which he had so lately heard; "and is it possible," he exclaimed mentally, "she can be so uncon

“And do you think you understand the mean-scious of her own rare gifts and attractions, her ing of what you repeat?"

"I reckon I does, of some of 'em. Miss Fanny always makes us sell what they mean, 'cause she says it don't do us a bit of good unless we know the meaning of it, and try to do what is in the Bible and hymns."

Henry asked the child a few leading questions from Scripture, and then questioned him as to the meaning of the portion he had just repeated.

VOL. XV-10

own exquisite beauty, the mind, the music breathing from her soul,' as to suppose, that I could prefer, what is called a fine lady, to a being like herself. I wish," he said, half aloud," my mother could see her;" and at these words a pang of self-reproach shot through his heart. How seldom had the idea of this kind mother, whose very life hung upon his, recurred to him for many days past, how carelessly he had perused the

66

letters he had received from home, after he had people; altogether you will see an entertainment ascertained that his parents were well; how most unique in its kind, and such as you will weary, flat, stale and unprofitable all their con- probably never witness again. Indeed they are tents had seemed, how foreign to the new emo- fast passing away even with us, and disappearing tions which had arisen in his heart, to the en- before the advance of civilization." chanting state of existence, through which he was Altogether then," said Henry, "I consider passing. And yet," he murmured, "the light- it a piece of rare good fortune to have such an est pang that I could suffer would inflict more opportunity." pain on my mother, than my death would on Fanny Seyton." This reflection called forth a deep sigh, but again Hope whispered that the time might come when his happiness would be inexpressibly precious to Fanny, and again he pondered on the means of winning her heart.

"You will find much to amuse you," said Fanny, "though you will, doubtless, witness things which will appear semi-barbarous, yet there will be so much ease and cordiality, and such varieties of character, that I think you will be pleased." “I am sure I shall," replied Henry, "the mere He was so much absorbed in his own thoughts conventionalities and embellishments of a fashand feelings, that he was quite unconscious how ionable entertainment possess very few attracfar, or how long he had rambled, and it was tions for me, but a party of the sort you describe, nearly two o'clock when he returned to Oak would be not only amusing but interesting. Grove, where he found Philip looking out for him. “Ah Hal, I am glad you have returned from your wanderings, you must have made a real exploring expedition. I was just about to set out in search of you, as Fanny suggested the possibility of your having lost yourself in our pine forests, though I quicted her apprehensions somewhat, by surmising that you were botanising, as I know that is a favorite pursuit of yours."

"You gave me more credit than I deserved," said Henry smiling, "I was not engaged in the pursuit of knowledge of any sort, but merely enjoying the sweet influences of earth, air and sky, yet some observations forced themselves upon me, the beauty and variety of your forest trees, for instance, the brilliancy of the wild flowers and the surpassing grace and beauty of the wild grape vines. I do not believe any oriental growth can exceed them in richness and beauty."

"Mrs. Maynard's Tom is waiting at the door to see you, Mas Phil," said John, entering with the important air of one who has agreeable news to communicate.

Whenever the workings of the heart and varieties of natural character are allowed to appear, we find something to please and improve."

"Then you will like us better and better," said Philip, "for the varieties of individual character are very strongly marked amongst us; and though we abhor display of sentiment, and are not addicted to scenes of any sort, still you find few states of society, where family and local affections are stronger and warmer than in the Old Dominion,' or where greater sacrifices of interest are made to the ties of kindred or of friendship."

"It shows we are rather at a low ebb, my dear brother," said Fanny laughing, "when we have to trumpet forth our own praises :—these strongly marked characters often degenerate into oddities, of which we have certainly a rare and large collection, but which do not often excite admiration, in those who have been accustomed to a polished state of society."

"The sweet influences of a noon day in August," said Philip laughing, are "somewhat too sultry for me; moreover, I cannot allow of your "These peculiarities of habit or manner," exposing yourself to them, for though I can an- said Henry, "certainly do not excite admiraswer for your health, if you are discreet, I can- tion, though they often produce amusement, not be responsible for your safety if you rove but individualities of character and mind are about in summer suns, before you are acclimated, very interesting to those who love to study and you know I am answerable to Mrs. Living- human nature, and are always produced, I think, stone for you." by high and vigorous mental culture. In your state of society, it appears to me that the higher classes are called on at a very early age to think and decide not only for themselves but for others; this early necessity for thought and action must have a great effect in awaking and forming the mind. Here, too, they seem to read not for display, but either for the gratification of literary taste, or to gain information on some speci"You will have now an opportunity, Living- fie object intimately connected with their purstone, of seeing a Virginia wedding conducted in suits, such as agriculture, politics, law or mediold style, a real gathering of the clans, a squeeze cine. This sort of culture enlarges and invigoof aunts, uncles and cousins to the tenth degree, rates the mind. Yet, on the other hand," added and marvel how one house can contain so many Henry smiling, "I cannot so far abandon my char

Philip returned in a minute with notes of invitation to Helen Maynard's wedding, which was to take place the next evening, and said, as he handed one of them to Henry,

seemed to ask why such thoughts as these should awaken such deep and sad feeling.

"Why who would tilt against Christendom," said Philip, "we furnish too good a subject for the expenditure of philanthropy and moral rep

reputation in the moral, religious or literary world, would undertake our cause. The moral blight is upon us, and wo to the wight whose vision is so obscure as not to perceive it."

acter as a seeker for truth, as not to perceive that this mode of life, must necessarily produce a deficiency in those literary pursuits which require minuteness, accuracy, and polish, and which can only consist with a division of mental labor. This cannot take place but in a more artificial robation to hope that any one who ventures his state of society, and among a denser population." "I concede this to the fullest extent," replied Philip; "nay more, I will add, that these deficiencies can neither be excused, nor entirely explained by our modes of life, but arise, in a great measure, from a mixture of indolence and am-admit that bition, which is a natural trait, and lies at the bottom of most of our defects and misfortunes. We are unwilling to bestow the minute and patient labor which is so necessary to literary excellence, and not content with mediocrity even of the serpent, for one who has eyes to discover

"Yet," said Henry, "the candid would at least

Some flowers of Eden ye still inherit,
Though the trail of the Serpent is over them all.
But unfortunately hundreds can see the trail

in our first efforts, unless we can fly with the
eagle to the sun, would remain with our wings
folded to our sides forever. We need some pow-
erful impetus, some strong incentive to arouse us
into strong mental action. If an honor is to be
won at college, or a prize won in the political
arena, we are never laggards in the race, but Philip looked at his sister, who seemed thought-
continued, patient effort, the results of which are ful and serious. "Well, Fanny," said he laugh-
to be gradual, we shrink from, and the conse-ing, "of what are you thinking, of how to res-
quence is, that though no one can deny us at tore the Old Dominion,' or how you can help
least a fair share of native talent, we have scarce- Cousin Maynard about the wedding, or whether
ly contributed a mite to national or universal lit- you will wear pearls or roses to-morrow even-
erature."

the flowers of Eden. The celestial touch of truth, which opens the eyes to moral and intellectual, and even to natural beauty, has never rested upon them, and they walk in a different world from that in which those dwell, whose eyes have been opened."

"And for State literature," said Fanny, "we are like the lion, who complained that there were no painters among the lions to commemorate the victories of their own race, so they were always represented in the pictures of men as inferior in power to themselves."

"This state of things will not long continue, I hope," said Henry; “you have all the necessary materials, a spark only is wanting to kindle the pile, and the light of your natural genius will shine forth to the astonishment and delight of the beholders."

ing?"

Fanny almost started, and blushed deeply as she met Henry's glance resting upon her, for she was conscious, that her meditations were chiefly of him. This blush was the herald of hope to Henry's heart, and he cast his eyes down to conceal the pleasure that sparkled in them, from the flattering auguries to which it gave rise.

66

'My thoughts were a tangled web," said Fanny, "which would not be worth unravelling, even if I had time for it."

Just then Mr. Seyton's voice was heard from the library calling aloud for Fanny, who quickly

"I trust you may prove a true prophet," re- obeyed the summons, and returned almost immeplied Fanny."

"I confess I am not so sanguine as Livingstone," said Philip, "I fear there is vis inertiæ enough in the pile to extinguish a thousand sparks."

"It is strange," said Henry, "that Virginia should have found no champion, amongst the many who have shared her hospitality, and delighted in the intercourse of her high-minded sons and daughters, and formed associations in her fair land, sweet and lasting as life itself."

diately on her way to her own room, with a somewhat perplexed countenance, and her hands full of papers.

66

What have you got there, Fanny, that makes you look so doleful,-drills, plows, harrows, no wonder you are dismayed."

66

To tell the truth," said Fanny, "I do not like to acknowledge to papa the labor it will cost me to get these drawings ready for to-morrow's mail, he has such implicit reliance on my powers, that I dislike to undeceive him, and I am afraid I shall hardly be able to finish them, I have so many other things to do."

There was a tone of sadness mingled with this enthusiastic expression of feeling, that arrested Fanny's attention, and excited her surprise. "I wish I could help you," said Philip, "but if Henry felt his color change, beneath the earnest I took a pencil in my hand to draw a plow, it yet kind glance of that matchless dark eye, which would be quite as apt to turn out a cart."

• Allow me," said Henry, rising and advancing | you prefer reading that you may listen or not, towards Fanny, "to act as your draughtsman on just as you please; if I read, the office of listenthis occasion. I don't like to boast of my own ing shall be no sinecure. Instead of one of James' qualifications, but Philip can testify that drawing novels, in which you may catch up the loose is my peculiar forte, and it will really be a good threads of the story ever and anon, so as to stand deed to employ me about something useful. Be-a respectable examination, without having heard sides," added he, smiling, "I should like to redeem my credit somewhat with Mr. Seyton, since he has discovered that I know so little of the uses of agricultural implements, by showing that I can at least make drawings of them."

Henry evinced such an earnest desire to oblige, that Fanny thought it would be ungracious to reject his offered service, indeed his kindness was peculiarly grateful and acceptable, as she had in fact a thousand and one things to do and to think about. She therefore accepted his offer with a graceful simplicity peculiarly her own, and it was so evident that Henry thought himself the obliged party in being allowed to do her bidding, that Fanny could not feel the obligation as onerous, and yet, strange to say, she drew no inference from this circumstance, favorable to her own vanity.

"How kind and clever he is," thought Fanny, as she marked the rapid and skillful touch of Henry's pencil, and how completely he seems to be overcoming his prejudices to Virginia! When we get better acquainted, I must rally him a little on his Virginia tale, of which I dare say he has already repented."

"And now for the order of the day," said Philip, "laces, ribbons, muslins and flowers, what a deplorable case is yours, Fanny, to be left to your own unassisted genius on this important day, without even a female friend to say what is becoming as to being comme il faut, that is quite out of the question; but then it would be a comfort to look pretty, even if this should be accomplished in the most irregular and unfashionable way."

Fanny laughed good-humoredly and said, "I am, indeed, much to be pitied for being thrown so entirely upon my own resources in all matters, both little and great, and for this reason consider myself entitled to special indulgence. But, I must go and meditate alone, and act too, in many important matters, so I have no time to talk nonsense with you, Philip. Meantime, I charge you to amuse Mr. Livingstone, as I know by experience, that his employment is but an irksome one."

"He has taken so to reverie of late, that he has become perfectly unamusable, but I will do my best; shall I read or talk, Livingstone?"

"Read then," said Henry, "though I really require no amusement, I am quite interested in the progress of my work."

"I understand the meaning of that very well,

more than a fifth of the story, I shall read Past and Present' for your edification, and require you as I finish each chapter, to put it into English, and discuss it with me."

"Have mercy, Philip, I should prefer your talking."

"That is the very conclusion to which I wished to bring you, but as soon as I perceive your wits are wool-gathering, I shall have recourse to Carlyle."

And Philip ran on in the careless and exuberant gaiety of his spirits, describing to Henry an old Virginia wedding, and whimsically portraying the leading characters of the company, they should meet on the following evening at Mrs. Maynard's, while Henry bestowed just sufficient attention on his discourse to prevent his discovering that he was carrying on an under current of his own thoughts.

F*****.

THE LIGHTNING'S COMPLAINT.

BY SIDNEY DYER.

I

Alas! my ancient glory fades

Like some low earth-born thing,
For man has plucked me from the skies,
And bound my fiery wing.

II.

The nations oft at me have gazed,
And trembled with affright,
When vaulting through the azure dome,
I trailed my livid light.

III.

The angels e'en in wonder stood,

When at the high command

Of Heaven, I hurled old Satan down
Upon the burning strand.

IV.

And when man's sins called vengeance down,
Before my scathing blaze,

The stoutest heart, appalled with fear,
Shrunk back in dire amaze.

V.

When God in wrath o'erspread the earth
By waters from his hand,

I flashed around the lofty hills,
And split the solid land!