accompany him, when he attended the poetess to her post-chaise, on the
morning of her departure, and had occasion to remark his courteous
hospitality to the last. "There are some persons," said he, with his
cordial smile, as he offered his hand at parting, "whom one earnestly
desires to meet again. You, madam, are one of those." But I am quite
forgetting the object that induced my recurrence to these
well-remembered scenes.
In answer to some leading remark of mine, regarding the wonderful
versatility of his father-in-law, addressed to Mr. Lockhart, as we stood
together contemplating the ivy-mantled walls of Dryburgh, he informed me
of the secret of his extraordinary achievements with the pen: "When you
meet him at breakfast," said Mr. Lockhart, "he has already, as he
expresses it, 'broken the neck of the day's work'--_he writes in the
morning_. Eschewing the indulgences of late rising and slippered ease
(at the last he rails incontinently), he is up with the lark--by half
past four or five, dresses as you see him at a later hour, in out-door
costume, visits the stables, and then sets himself resolutely to work.
By nine o'clock, when he joins us, he has accomplished the labors of a
day, almost."
"His correspondence alone must occupy an immense deal of time," said I.
"And yet," returned my companion, "Sir Walter makes it a rule to answer
every letter on the day of its reception. It must be an urgent cause
that interferes with this habit. And I am often astonished at the length
and careful composition of his replies to the queries of literary
correspondents, as well as to his letters of friendship."
"One would suppose his health must be impaired by such severe mental
labor," I answered.
"His cheerful temper, and his power to _leave care behind him_ in his
study, are a great assistance to him," replied Mr. Lockhart, moving
towards our horses, as he spoke--"but here," he added, smilingly,
laying his hand on his saddle, "here is his grand preservative. It must
be foul weather, indeed, even for our Northern land of mists and clouds,
that keeps him from his _daily allowance of fresh air_."
"Sir Walter is an accomplished horseman, I observe," said I, as we
resumed our ride.
"You may well say that!" exclaimed his son-in-law, laughing. "I wish you
could have seen him at the head of his troop of horse, charging an
imaginary foe. Only the other day, his favorite steed broke the arm of a
groom who attempted to mount him; and yet, in Sir Walter's hands, he is
as docile as need be. There seems to be some secret understanding
between him and his horses and dogs. This very horse, though he will
never permit another man to mount him, seems to obey his master's
behests with real pride as well as pleasure. I believe he would kneel to
receive him on his back, were he bidden to do so."
* * * * *
Dipping into an instructive and pleasant, though no longer new book,[14]
the other day, I came across the following passage: "Brougham has
recorded that the peroration of his speech in the Queen's case"--his
celebrated defence of Queen Caroline against her beastly husband--"was
written no less than ten times before he thought it fit for so august an
occasion. The same is probably true of similar passages in Webster's
speeches; it is known to be so of Burke's." What do you think of such
examples of industry and perseverance as these, young gentlemen?
[14] Sketches of Reform and Reformers,--by _H. B. Stanton_.
* * * * *
"Step in, ma'am, step in, if you please," said our Jehu, opening the
door of a stage-coach, in which I was making a journey through a region
not then penetrated by modern improvements, "would you like the back
seat?" Beside him stood a slightly-formed, delicate-looking girl, in a
hesitating attitude.
"I cannot ride backwards without being ill," said she, timidly, "and
I--I shall be sorry to disturb any one, but I would like to sit by a
window."
A young man who was sitting on the middle seat with me immediately
alighted, to make room for the more convenient entrance of the stranger,
and, as he did so, the driver said decidedly--"Shall be obliged to ask
the gentlemen on the back seat to accommodate the lady." A low-browed,
surly-looking young fellow, who sat nearest the door of the vehicle, on
the seat designated, doggedly kept his place, muttering something about
having the first claim, "first come, first served," etc. Seeing how
matters stood, a good-natured, farmer-like looking old man, who occupied
the other end of the seat, called out cheerily, "The young woman is
welcome to my place, if I can only get out of it!" and he began at once
to suit the action to the word.
By this time the before pale face of the young girl was painfully
flushed, and she said, in a low, deprecating tone, "I am very sorry to
make so much trouble."
"No trouble at all, ma'am--none at all! Just reach me your hand and I'll
help you up--that's it!"
"I am much obliged to you, sir--very much! I hope you will find a good
seat for yourself," said the recipient of his kindness, gently.
"No doubt of it!" returned he of the cheery voice. "I ain't at all sorry
to change a little--them back seat's plaguy cramped up! They say," added
he, settling himself next the boot, "that the front seat's the easiest
of all. One thing, there's more room [stretching his legs with an air of
infinite relief between those of his opposite neighbors], a deuced
sight!"
"Take your fare, gem'men," cried a bustling personage, at this moment.
"What is the fare from here to O----?" inquired the stationary biped in
the corner behind me.
"Six shillings, York money," was the ready response.
"Six shillings!" growled the other; "seems to me there's great extortion
all 'long this road. Yesterday I paid out three dollars, hard
money--twelve shillin' for lodgin', supper, and breakfast, back here to
G----!"
"Take your fare _now_, sir," interrupted the bustling little man at the
door, stepping upon the wheel, in sublime indifference to the muttered
anathemas, half addressed to him. "What name, sir?"--preparing to write
on the "way-bill"--"_always_, sir! it is rulable--always put down the
name."
The low voice of the lady, when she was reached, in due order, was
almost lost in the grumbling kept up by the agreeable occupant of the
corner seat. The most amusing commingling of opposite sounds reached my
ears, somewhat like the soft tones of a distant flute, and the
growling--not loud, but deep--of a hungry mastiff. "Julia
Peters"--"takes off the silver, by thunder!"--"Is my band-box put on?"
here a chinking, as of money counted, and then a hurried fumbling
appeared to take place in the "deepest depths" of various pockets. "How
soon will we be there," in silvery murmurs--"By George! I swear I
b'lieve I lost two shillin'!"--"Before dark!" chimed in the flute-notes.
"I am glad to hear it!" "I'll be hanged if any one shall come it over
me!" surged over the musical ripple. "When you stop at my
brother-in-law's," concluded the softer voice, in this unique duet.
Having been sometime on the wing, I fell into a doze, as we proceeded.
As I roused myself, at length, the young man who had alighted to make
room for the entrance of Miss Peters, whispered, "That young lady seems
very ill--what can we do for her relief?" A moment's attention convinced
me that the poor thing was horribly _stage-sick_. When she appeared to
rally a little, I turned round to her, and said, that I trusted she
would allow me to render her any service in my power. Forcing a smile,
she thanked me, and replied that she would soon be better she thought,
adding, in a still lower tone, that the _smell of tobacco_ always
affected her very sensibly. This last remark was at the time
unintelligible to me, but I afterwards learned that the animal on the
same seat with her had regaled himself upon the vilest of cigars while I
was napping, and that the only attempt at an apology he had offered was
a mumbled remark that, "as the wind blew the smoke out of the stage, he
s'posed no one hadn't no objections!"
Despite the hope expressed by my suffering neighbor, she did _not_ get
better, but continued to endure a most exhausting ordeal. Every decent
man in the coach seemed to sympathize with her, the rather that she so
evidently tried to make the best of it, and to avoid annoying others.
Every one had a different remedy to suggest, but, unfortunately, none of
them available, as there was no stopping place near. Though a somewhat
experienced traveller, my ingenuity could, until we should stop, effect
no more than disposing my large woollen shawl so as to aid in supporting
the weary head of the poor child.
As soon as we reached the next place for changing horses, I sprang out,
in common with the other passengers, and, inquiring for the nearest
druggist, hastened to procure a little reliable _brandy_.
Having previously arranged a change of seats with the harmless stripling
who had thus far occupied the middle back seat, I entered the stage, and
quietly told the young lady that, as there was no one of her own sex
aboard, I should claim the privilege of age, and prescribe for her, if
she would permit me.
"This is not a pleasant dose, I must warn you," said I, offering her a
_single teaspoonful of clear brandy_, "but I can safely promise you
relief, if you will swallow it; this is a nice, clean glass, too," I
added, smilingly, for I well knew how much that assurance would
encourage my patient.
"I do not know how to thank you sufficiently, sir," said the young lady,
striving to speak cheerfully, as she attempted to raise her head. Taking
the tumbler, with a trembling hand, she bravely swallowed my
prescription. I must own she gasped a little afterwards, but I could not
allow her the relief of water, without nullifying the proper effect, so
I assisted her in removing her bonnet (which the good-natured farmer,
who had re-entered the coach with me, carefully pinned upon the lining
of the vehicle, where it would safely swing), and in enveloping her head
in her veil, adjusting her shawl comfortably about her, and wrapping my
own about her feet.
"If I become your physician," said I, as I stooped to make the latter
process more effectual, "you must allow me the right to do as I think
best."
"I shall be only too much obliged by your kindness, sir," returned she.
"All I fear is, that you will give yourself unnecessary trouble on my
account."
"The gentleman don't seem to think it's no trouble," interposed the old
farmer, "'taint never no trouble to good-hearted folks to help a
fellow-cretur in distress! I wish my wife was here; she knows a great
sight better than I do, how to take care o' sick folks."
"I am sure," replied the invalid, "if kindness could make people well, I
should be restored. I feel myself greatly indebted to you, gentlemen."
The slight color called to her cheek by the genuine feeling with which
she uttered these words, was by no means decreased, as she gracefully
accepted the offerings of the youth who had first called my attention to
her indisposition. Coming up to the side of the stage, near her, he
expressed the hope that she was feeling better, and, saying that he had
known sea-sickness relieved by lemon-juice, presented a fine, fresh
lemon, and a superb carnation-pink, and quickly withdrew.
Mr. Benton--that I heard him tell the way-bill-man was his name--lost
something in not hearing and seeing all I did of the pleasure he
bestowed by his gifts; but he had his reward, as he re-seated himself
near us.
"You did not give me an opportunity to thank you for your politeness,
sir," the lady hastened to say, with a pretty, half-shrinking manner, "I
am so much obliged to you for the flower! it is so spicy and refreshing,
and so very beautiful."
"A very indifferent apology for a bouquet," returned the gentleman, "all
I could find, however. I am very happy if it affords you the slightest
gratification."
No sooner were we fairly on our way again, than I insisted upon
supporting the head of my fair patient upon my shoulder, assuring her
that ten minutes' sleep would complete the cure already begun in her
case. She blushed, and hesitated a little, upon the plea that she would
tire me.
"Allow me to be the judge of that," I answered, with some gravity, "and
permit the freedom of an old man." With this, I placed my arm firmly
about her slight form, and, without more ado, the languid head dropped
upon my shoulder.
I very soon had the satisfaction to discover that "tired nature's sweet
restorer" had come to my assistance, and to discern the return of some
natural color to the pallid face of the poor sufferer; so gathering her
shawl more closely about her, and disposing myself more effectually to
support my light burden, I maintained my vigil until the sudden stopping
of the vehicle aroused us all.
"The lady gets out here," cried the driver, opening the door, and,
through the obscurity that had now gathered about us, I dimly discerned
the outlines of the small dwelling in front of which we were at a stand.
In another moment, the door was flung hurriedly open, and a gentleman
hastened forward to receive my fair charge, who, notwithstanding the
confusion of the moment, found time to acknowledge the insignificant
attentions she had received from her travelling companions, much more
warmly than they deserved. Our last glimpse of my interesting patient,
revealed her folded closely in the arms of a lady, who appeared in the
lighted passage, and embraced, simultaneously, by several curly-headed
children, who clung to her dress, and hung upon her neck with manifest
and noisy delight.
We lumbered along, across a dark, covered bridge, up hill and down, and
then I reached my destination, for the nonce, the "New York Hotel," as
the little tavern of the village of B---- was grand-eloquently styled.
"Well, I ain't sorry we're arrove!" exclaimed the elegant young man,
with whose courtesy of nature my story opened. "George!"--stretching his
ungainly limbs upon the porch of the house--"won't some tipple be fine?
Hotel tipple's good enough for me!"
Before I could decide in my own mind whether this last declaration was
intended as a fling at me, for not giving Miss Peters a match for his
disgusting tobacco-smoke, from the bar of the stage-house, when I came
to the rescue in her service, he was scuffling with some ragged boys for
his trunk, and, as he marched off with his prize, I heard a
characteristic growl over the prospective tax upon his purse.
The next day was Sunday, and, of course, I was temporarily at a
stand-still in my journey.
The sexton of the neat little church to which I found my way in the
morning, put me into a pew next behind that I surmised to be the
Rector's. A movement among its occupants arrested my attention, and I
soon became really interested in remarking the healthful beauty of the
children, who, disposed between the two ladies occupying the extreme
ends of the seat, seemed to find some difficulty in keeping as quiet as
decorum required.
"I want to sit by aunt Julia," I overheard, as a bright-eyed little
fellow began to nestle uneasily in his seat. Upon this, the lady at the
top of the pew turned her head, and, behold! the face of my young
stage-coach friend! She was too much engaged, however, in aiding their
mother, as I supposed her to be, in settling the children, before the
service should commence, to observe me, and I almost doubted whether the
happy, smiling face I saw, was identical with the worn and colorless one
that had reposed so helplessly upon my breast on the previous evening;
but there was no mistaking the soft, blue eyes, and the wavy hair,
almost as sunny in hue as that of the little fellow who, at length,
rested quietly, with his head pillowed on her arm.
Scarcely had we begun with the Psalter, before Miss Peters looked
quickly round, with a startled glance. A half-smile of recognition
lighted her sweet face, and then her gaze was as quickly withdrawn.
"Good morning, sir!" exclaimed my new acquaintance, advancing eagerly
toward me, and offering her hand, as soon as we were in the vestibule of
the church, at the conclusion of the service; "I did not anticipate this
pleasure--sister, this is the gentleman to whom I was so much indebted
yesterday."
"We are all much obliged by your kindness to Miss Peters sir," her
companion hastened to say, and both bowed most politely to my
disclaimers of merit for so ordinary an act of humanity as that to which
they referred, and to my inquiries for the health of my fair patient.
Then followed a cordial invitation to dinner, in which each vied with
the other in frank hospitality. I attempted to compromise the matter by
a promise to pay my respects to the ladies in the evening.
"We do not dine until five on Sunday, sir, and that is almost evening!
Mr. Y---- will walk over and accompany you--you are at the Hotel? It
will give us great pleasure if you will come, unceremoniously, and
partake of a simple family dinner. Miss Peters claims you as _a
friend_."
There was no withstanding this, especially as each phrase of courtesy
was made doubly expressive, by the most ingenuously hospitable manner.
"Really, ladies," said I, as we reached the gate of the Rectory, "there
is no resisting such fair tempters! I will be most happy to exchange the
solitude of my dull room for the joys of your Eden."
And, insisting that I could not permit Mr. Y---- to add to his clerical
duties the fatigue of calling for me, I renewed my expressions of
gratification at the restoration of Miss Peters, and took my leave.
I was still engaged in laying off my overcoat and shoes, after sending
in my card, when Mr. Y---- came out to welcome me; and a most cordial
welcome it was! Such a warm hand-shaking as he gave me, and such
emphatic assurances of the pleasure it afforded him to make my
acquaintance! And when I entered the tasteful little parlor, where I
found the ladies, I was received with equally frank hospitality. The
children united with their seniors in making me feel, at once, that I
was among friends. One little circumstance, I remember, particularly
touched me. I was scarcely seated, when a little tottering thing, with a
toy in her hand, came and placed herself between my knees, and raising a
pair of large, truthful, blue eyes to mine, lisped out, "I does 'ouv 'ou
dearly!--'ou was 'o dood to aun' Dule!--I dive 'ou my pretty 'ittle
birdie!" and the little cherub presented me the toy.--It was many a long
day afterwards, believe me, my dear boys, before the warmth infused into
the heart of an old campaigner, by the simple adventures of that quiet
village Sabbath, ceased to glow cheerily in his heart!
After the unpretending, but pleasant, well-appointed dinner was
concluded, Miss Peters rose, and, with a slight apology to me, was
leaving the room, when her sister arrested her. Some playful, whispered
contest seemed to be going on between the two, of which I could not help
overhearing, in the sweet, silvery tones that had charmed me in the
stage-coach, "You know, dear, it's such a luxury to me!--you are always
with them. I will have my own way when I am here!" and away she flew
like a fawn.
Presently, the pattering of numerous tiny feet, and a commingling of
joyous voices, and the music of childish laughter, reached my ears, from
the stairs, and then all was for a moment hushed. Now there was
distinctly heard from above, the swelling notes of a simple, child's
hymn, sung by several voices, led by the musical one I had learned to
distinguish, and then followed a low-murmured "Our Father," as I
thought.
"Colonel Lunettes," said my hostess, drawing a chair to the sofa corner,
where I had been snugly ensconced by two of the children, before they
said good-night, "I will take advantage of sister's absence to express
my personal obligations to you for your kind care of her yesterday"----
"My dear Madam," I interposed, "I regard my meeting your sister as a
special Providence, for which I alone should be deeply grateful!"
"You are very polite, sir," answered the lady, "we, too, should be
grateful. Julia should never travel alone. Mr. Y---- always goes over to
O---- for her, when we expect her, and intended to do so this time, but
she insisted upon it in her last letter, that she _knew_ she wouldn't be
ill, and that he would only distress her by coming, as she was sure he
was necessarily very busy, preparing for the Bishop's visit, and,
indeed, she expected to come over with an elder lady teacher in the
Seminary."
"Then Miss Peters is instructing, Mrs. Y----?"
"She is, sir. We are orphans [a slight quiver in the tones] and Julia
prefers to make this effort for herself"----
"I am opposed to it," continued Mr. Y----, taking up the narrative, as
his wife half-paused, "and much prefer that Julia should be with
us,--she and Mrs. Y---- should not be separated. I am sure there is room
enough in our hearts for all _our children_, and Julia is one of them!"
The grateful, loving smile, and dewy eyes of the wife, alone expressed
her sense of pleasure at these words. For myself, I declare to you, I
did not like to trust myself to reply. I was turning over some new pages
of the history of human nature! Sometimes I think, as I did then, that
the soul of man never reaches the full development of its earthly
capacities, except when continually subjected to the blessed influences
of _nature_! The city--the beaten thoroughfares of existence--curb, if
they do not deaden, the better manifestations of the spirit, check
forever, the most beautiful, individualizing specialities of manner
even! But I did not mean to moralize.
When Miss Peters rejoined us, her brother-in-law rose (as I also did, of
course) and seated her between us, on the sofa.
"My dear young lady," said I, taking her hand respectfully in my own,
"permit me to say, as Dr. Johnson did to Hannah More, upon meeting her
for the first time, '_I understand that you are engaged in the useful
and honorable occupation of instructing young ladies_,'--if it were
possible more thoroughly to forget the brevity of our acquaintance, than
I have already done, this would have deepened my respect and interest
for you! Pardon me, if I take too great a liberty. You have, from the
commencement of our acquaintance, permitted me the privileges of an
octogenarian"----
"And of a _gentleman of the old school_!" she added, with great
vivacity, and with the most bewitching smile.
"Before I leave you, my dear Miss Peters, will you allow me to make a
prophecy?"
"If you are a prophet of _good_, sir"----
"Can you doubt it, when your future fate is the subject?"
"Indeed, sir, I shall have great faith in your auguries!" returned my
fair neighbor, bestowing the twin of her first smile upon me.
"Well, then, my dear, it is my solemn conviction that you have not yet
learned all you will one day know of the depth of the impression you
have left upon the heart of Mr. Benton," I answered, with a gravity that
I intended should _tell_.
"Mr. Benton! so that's his name?" laughed Mrs. Y----, gaily. "Julia
pretended not to know his name! I thought it was a conquest! I have not
yet had an opportunity of looking out the '_language_' of a very large,
full blown carnation pink!"
"No doubt," interrupted Mr. Y----, "it is precisely the opposite of
_lemon-juice_!"
Between laughing and blushing, the fair subject of this badinage made
but a faint show of resistance; but, at this juncture, she managed to
say, as she turned to me, with a most courteous bow.
"I very much question whether the sentiments expressed by any flower can
more readily touch the heart, than that _I_ have known conveyed by a
_teaspoonful of brandy_!"
"Bravo!" cried Mr. Y----.
"Well done, Jule!" echoed my hostess.
And I!--my feelings were too deep for words! I could only lay my hand
upon my heart, and raise my eyes to the ceiling.
* * * * *
Perhaps there is no better test of the unexceptionableness of a habit,
than to _suppose it generally adopted, and infer the consequences_. I
remember some such reflection, in connection with a little circumstance
that once fell under my observation:--Dining with a young Canadian, at
his residence in Kingston, C. W., I met, among other persons, an English
notability, of whom I had frequently heard and read. A slight pause in
the conversation, made doubly audible a loud yawn proceeding from one
corner of the dining-room, and, as a general look of surprise was
visible, a huge Newfoundland dog approached us, stretching his limbs,
and shaking from his shaggy coat anything but