secret springs of man's heart, and delineating the various effects of their machinery upon the character, are so marked, so preeminent, that we find here the author almost sole occupant of this guest-chamber in the Temple; -juvat ire jugis quà nulla priorum Castaliam molli devertitur orbita clivo." We trembled at first, with light flutterings, lest Ianthe, Irenè, Isabel, and the sonnets on names might have a repeated idea, a corresponding trait, a point of union somewhere, which should render them parallel; but, though all were lovely, none were alike. Out of them might grow as true a woman as the world ever saw. To imagine such an one, is worth living for. "Earth's noblest thing,--a woman perfected," might here find rules of conduct, which evidently arise from deep wisdom, and pure thought. With all this we remark, from its surpassingly beautiful dedication to the plaintive pleadings of "L'Euvoy," a spirit of tenderness towards woman, with which man may feel proud to be stimulated in these case-hardening days. Her's is a spirit deep and crystal-clear; nated her from the first. But when her deeper feelings were called into play, and the latent sensibilities of her nature sprung to conscious action, much of this native romance was transferred to the scenes of real life, and the struggles of the heart. The earlier and most elaborate of her poems are, in a great measure, experimental. It seems as if a casual fancy for the poetic art gradually matured into a devoted love. Mrs. Hemans drew her power less from perception than sympathy. Enthusiasm, rather than graphic talent, is displayed in her verse. We shall look in vain for any remarkable pictures of the outward world. Her great aim was not so much to describe as to move. We discover few scenes drawn by her pen, which strike us as wonderfully true to physical fact. She does not make us see so much as feel. Compared with most great Some of these have already appeared in our former numpoets, she saw but little of the world. The great-bers, and we are happy to add further proofs to the position er part of her life was passed in retirement. Her we have taken. knowledge of distant lands was derived from books. Hence she makes little pretension to the poetry of observation. Sketches copied directly from the visible universe, are barely encountered in her works. For such portraiture her mind was not remarkably adapted. There was another process far more congenial to her-the personation of feeling. She loved to sing of inciting events, to contemplate her race in an heroic attitude, to explore the depths of the soul, and, amid the shadows of despair and the tumult of passion, point out some element of love or faith unquenched by the storm. Her strength lay in earnestness of soul. Her best verses glow with emotion. When once moral strength to guide our lives, a delightful freedom from truly interested in a subject, she cast over it such all repining, shed like dew upon sunburnt flowers, over the an air of feeling that our sympathies are won at hearts of world-stricken men. Our "weary packs" grow once. We cannot but catch the same vivid im-light, and we go with the poet, (for he has wondrous power pression; and if we draw from her pages no great in leading us wheresoever he listeth, and that too without number of definite images, we cannot but imbibe apparent art,) beggars through the world, joyously culling virtues from nature's various works. He shows the spirit what is more valuable-the warmth and the life of an "alchemist who would extract from dust and ashes, of pure, lofty and earnest sentiment. the essence of perpetual youth, tempt coy truth in many light and airy forms from the bottom of her well, and discover one crumb of comfort, or one grain of good, in the commonest and least regarded matter, that passes through his crucible." For his sake we would respect the Beggar clothed with a moral sublimity. That confiding trust of has read the Book of Nature, as opened both in earth and which we have spoken and the evident skill with which he man, out of which lesson this trust may grow, show us how thorough a thinker he is, and how surely he has associations LOWELL'S POEMS.* We have here a volume of Poems, of a loftier rank throughout, performing more truly the Poet's duty, whereby be speaks to men's conditions, showing fresher sympathies and more tender sensibilities, than any we have witnessed these many long days. In fact we find in it, beauties, and peculiar to the writer himself; beauties, which with all our Poets we have never seen before, which as it has fallen to the lot of none other to afford us, and as they find not their counterparts, except of another nature, bring their author to eminence by a road hitherto almost untravelled. We have been told that a country like ours, with its mighty works of nature, could not but inspire some of us, and give birth to a nation of Poets. The path, thus pointed out, has been worn smooth, and it is a relief when we can say, "character-writers" too, are among us. The nice discrimination shown in this chaste volume, in reaching the A Year's Life. By James Russell Lowell. Boston: C. C. Little & J. Brown, 12mo. pp. 182. * * * Exceeding pleasant to mine eyes is she: We find here also precepts of wisdom, and a trust in "held high converse with the godlike few, Who to th' enraptured beart, and ear, and eye, Teach beauty, virtue, truth, and love and melody." And even when "all things are sad" he shows why, in the following exquisite song. SONG. All things are sad: I go and ask of Memory, O, her voice is sweet and low, "I will not, then, know who writes to me?" "Thou wilt know why she writes to thee, but human names belong to the human voice; besides, what interest could a name possess? Would it make thee know a woman better whom thou hadst never seen?" it was time for the sun to set, (and the twilight is very short in Egypt) he returned to the square in front of the mosque, and seated himself as usual, to the great regret of his servant, who was ready to fall asleep. Some minutes after, the little messenger came to him without a bouquet. "I cannot, then, reply to it," said Eugene. He gave him his, and wished to embrace him, but the child "Thou wilt reply in the same manner as she has written escaped from his arms, and sped like an arrow over the to thee, and without signing thy name. Flowers are dis-space which separated him from the house, wherein he creet, and never name any one." This explanatory preamble only excited the curiosity and impatience of Eugene. The old woman perceived it; and casting a rapid glance at the bouquet which she had taken into her hands, said, "This, my son, is a simple note; but from its elegance of style, it is easy to perceive that she who has written it, is an author of the first merit." "Read! read!" cried Eugene, impatiently. disappeared. The next day, a new bouquet was sent to Eugene, who replied to it in the same manner. Each day the conespondence was continued. Their letters entered into an examination of the most subtle questions of sentimental metaphysics. A romance of two volumes might have been made from them, which would have been acceptable in the boudoirs of our fashionable women. The bouquets became Then the old woman put on a solemn air, and with her at length so enormous, that the child could scarcely carry eyes fixed on the bouquet, read as follows: "Thou comest each day, to draw the mosque and its colored stones. I behold thee, with pleasure, attentive to thy work. I envy the cupola and the minaret, because thou lookest on them incessantly. They speak, doubtless, to thee-thou appearest to hearken with so much attention. But can they tell thee aught comparable to what I shall tell thee? In seeing thee, I felt thou wert the life of my life. Thy image is more deeply imprinted on my heart, than the mosque upon thy paper. A moment sufficed to fix it there for ever, whilst thou hast been looking on the mosque for many days. Not being able to speak to thee with my lips, I write with flowers. I send thee this bouquet, a messenger from my soul. May its brilliant colors, its symmetry, and its perfume, be an emblem of her who loves thee!" "Wonderful!" exclaimed Eugene, "but I wish to make a reply." "In the same language?" "Certainly; I will dictate, and you write," was the reply. "Wait till I send for the paper and pen, said the inter petress. And she whispered to her servant, who went out and soon returned carrying an enormous armful of different kinds of flowers, which she threw on the divan. Then Eugene meditated a moment to collect his ideas; and whilst he pronounced the following words, the old woman selected and grouped the flowers to compose the bouquet-reply: "It is true I look on the mosque with attention; my eye seems to caress it, and I take its portrait as I would that of an adored woman. Yet, its cupola and its minaret do not speak in so tender and eloquent a manner as the flowers you have sent me. Ah! with how much more love I should look on you, if I could have that pleasure! With what delight I should paint your image! I came to the East to create the imposing figure of the Prophet, as well as that of his daughter. I see many men, and draw inspiration from their manly countenances. But I see few women, and my genius cannot seize the type of which I am in search. You are perhaps she whose beauty should inspire me with the type of Fatma." "I have already told thee that I cannot write proper names with flowers!" interrupted the old woman, whose eyes and hands had not ceased to move whilst composing the bouquet. them; and the mysterious correspondent preserved hers carefully, that she might read them over even after they had faded. It happened one day that Hassan Effendi, the master of the house from whence came the little child, entered the apartment of his wife Fatma, (which be seldom did since he had married another whom he preferred) and was astonished to find the room encumbered with flowers and benquets of pyramidal dimensions. They were every where— in the vases, upon the divans, in the cupboards, upon the carpet which covered the inlaid floor, and in every useful vessel of the apartment. "What means this?" exclaimed he, "thy apartment is then a parterre. Art thou a flower merchant? All the gardens of Cairo must have been despoiled to make these bouquets!" "Alone, and abandoned, I have sought amusement,” replied Fatma, with downcast look. Hassan Effendi was not a man to be assuaged with deceptive words; and though he no longer loved her, the thought of infidelity flashed across his mind. He recalled the language of flowers, and the skill of his wife in this art. Fatma read his thoughts in his countenance, and was about to throw herself on the bouquets and tear them to pieces, but recollecting that his suspicions would thereby be confirmed, she desisted. Little versed in the language of flowers, the husband ordered an interpreter to be seat for. It was the very old woman who had written the letters for Eugene. Fatma had barely time to prepare stealthily a bouquet of two words, which requested the old weman to place this correspondence to the account of one of her female friends, and to read it as such; but although Hassan Effendi had not observed this trickery, he ss. pected some connivance, and ordered his new wife to be sent for. Then, the unfortunate Fatma saw that she was lost, and rent all the bouquets to pieces. Hassan Effendi immediately left her, exclaiming, with the deepest indignation, "Thou art undone !" Eugene was ignorant of what had passed. He was very desirous that his intrigue should be terminated by an interview, but he scarcely dared to hope for it. From what he had heard and read of the women of the East, he had formed an unfavorable opinion of their virtue, but this was now wearing away. From time to time he contented himself with caressing the laughing and playful child, the son "Write as you can; make a periphrase. I can finish and messenger of his mysterious friend. it," said Eugene, continuing to dictate the reply. The day after the scene we have been describing, the child came to him with tearful eyes, bearing a mourni bouquet of those sad and melancholy flowers which grow upon tombs. Amongst them was the neuphar, which the Eugene took the bouquet from the hands of the old wo-Nile bears upon its waters. The alarmed Eugene ran to The mixture of flowers appeared to him very grace- the house of the old woman. ful, and very well shaded, which gave him an high idea of hended this bouquet of death. It contained these words its style, and seemed to him a good augury. Then, though "Farewell dear friend! I am about to die. At midnight, "You should suffer me to see you. I am like a blind man seeking to make to himself an image of light. Oh, in pity let me look on the sun of my life!" man. Alas! he almost compre 1 when the moon is shedding her light on the city and country around, I shall be thrown alive into the Nile at the southern point of the isle of Raoudah. We are not to see each other in this world! I ask pardon of all those flowers I have plucked from their stems; they have given me much happiness. We shall see each other in another world, where we shall continue our correspondence. Farewell! I go to await thee there!" sure to a young man just commencing business for him. self, and feeling that he must be "the architect of his own fortunes," which the one who has risen to eminence in his profession, and is thus placed beyond the reach of those misgivings and anxieties which harass his younger brethren, knows not of. For weeks before the time fixed upon for our contemplated trip had arrived, I had consoled myself in my pre"I will seek and save her," exclaimed Eugene. He sent sufferings, with the prospect of the pleasure I should hastened to the French quarters, and assembling some enjoy, when the heated and dusty streets of the city Maltese fishermen, proceeded to spread an immense net at should be exchanged for the mountainous country of Westthe point of the island. He and the fishermen then con-ern Virginia, with all its endless diversity of surface; cealed themselves, holding the cord in their hands, and waiting with intense anxiety. At midnight they heard the splash of a heavy body in the deep and rapid water; and all was again silent. Eugene and his companions quickly drew in the net, and found it to contain a sack which was closely sewed up. One of the fishermen cut it open with his knife, and they found that Fatma had only swooned. Less cruel than those who had thrown her into the water, the cat and viper which had been given her for companions and executioners had left her unharmed. Eugene gazed unweariedly upon her. He had now found the type of woman which he sought. The fresh air restored her senses; she breathed and opened her eyes; and perceiving Eugene, she said, with ecstasy-"It is thou! and there is the bouquet! Am I already in that world where I was to behold thy face again?" Intoxicated with love and enthusiasm at the sight of so much beauty, the artist replied, "Yes, this is the bouquet which saved thee! It is to these flowers thou owest thy life, O most ingenious and beautiful of women!" "To the flowers and thyself, dear friend! Therefore I will consecrate to thee that life thou hast saved; blessed if may but secure thy happiness!" I Although devotedly attached to her country and its flowers, and particularly to the child she would be compelled to leave, Fatma promised to follow the artist to the end of the world. But he only conducted her to the centre thereof, that is to say Paris; where she is now engaged in teaching the women of France the language of flowers. PLEASURE TRIP here, rising into a lofty and rock-capped eminence, and Philip's anticipations of pleasure were, if possible, still brighter than my own. Philip and myself were of nearly the same age; had graduated and studied law together; and about a year before the time already mentioned, had been together admitted into "the honorable fraternity of barristers" in the city of Richmond. Our friendship had commenced in college, where for four years we had occuOF A GOOD-NATURED MAN. pied the same room, pursued the same studies, and in all respects lived more like brothers than like persons in no way Towards the close of August, 18-, Philip Baldwin and related to each other, as we were. In some respects our myself had made arrangements to leave town for a few dispositions and habits of life were alike; but it was not days, and try the effects of the pure mountain air, in resto- from any similarity in these particulars that we had become ring our languid frames to something of their accustomed attached to each other :-and indeed, I think it a very quesvigor. The summer months, always oppressive in a south- tionable matter whether great similarity in tastes and dispoern city, were unusually so in 18-, in consequence of an sition be necessary, or even favorable, to warm and lasting early drought, which prevailed throughout Lower Virginia friendship. It is true, the person of correct and noble during that year. Those whose recollections extend back feelings, can never remain long attached to one of grovelso far, cannot have forgotten the dingy and parched up ap-ling and vicious propensities ;-the person of extensive inpearance which the usually green fields of the James formation and cultivated taste, can never become the wilRiver low-grounds presented towards the close of the ling companion of the stupidly ignorant;-but minor difsummer just mentioned, nor the clouds of dust which ferences, such as give frequent opportunity for the perforswept through the streets of the good old city of Richmond, mance of mutual good offices, and even those which call with every passing breeze. After having been confined to for mutual forbearance, and occasionally for the sacrifice of the city for more than a year, spending most of my time our wishes, (for there is a pleasure arising from the sacriin a close, warm office, the prospect of passing a few days fice of our wishes, when that sacrifice is made upon the among the mountains could not be otherwise than agreea- altar of friendship,) are favorable, rather than otherwise, ble. Then, too, I had the satisfaction of knowing that my to pleasant companionship. Whilst in college, being the time would not be entirely thrown away, even so far as more diligent scholar of the two, I always assisted Phil. my professional business was concerned, as I had a case in mastering the more difficult parts of his lessons, and in hand, for the final settlement of which it was necessary thus saved him from the disgrace which would otherwise I should examine some papers on record in the clerk's have come upon him, as an incorrigible idler whilst he, office in Staunton :---and such a reflection affords a plea- by his good nature, ready wit, and perfect willingness to lay aside even the gravest employment in order to engage | nature which led him to take advice kindly, rendered that in friendly chat, beguiled me of many an idle hour which advice of no effect. Young has said that "procrastination would otherwise have hung heavily upon my hands, and is the thief of time:" with equal truth might he have added, often, to my sorrow, have I since found it, of many an hour the thief of good resolutions too. Resolutions to reform too, which should have been devoted to more profitable em- next week, are like impressions made upon the sand of the ployment. But be the cause what it might, we were fast sea-shore-always obliterated by the next rising of the tide. friends, and if ever I felt a sincere attachment to any one, Having said thus much of the character of my friend, I it was to Philip Baldwin. I have already hinted at a will now return to my story. The evening before the day marked difference in our characters. Philip was, what in fixed upon for our departure from Richmond, I called at common parlance is called, “a good-natured man ;” whilst I Philip's room to see if he would be in readiness at the aphave never been deemed worthy of such a title. I do not pointed time, and found him with a large trunk before him, know that I have ever been thought to be deficient in real open and nearly filled with bundles, whilst there were seve kind feeling; nor can I on reviewing my past life, recall an ral more laying upon the floor around him. Supposing these instance in which assistance that I could give was needed, to be different articles of wearing apparel, thus neatly when I did not freely render my aid; and I know that I packed up to prevent their being soiled by the dust, and have often felt the joys and sorrows of my friends as keen-yet wondering that so great a change should thus suddenly ly as I should had they been my own. But something more have come o'er my once careless friend, I remarked that I than all this is needed, to entitle a person to the appella-thought he was making very unnecessary preparation for a tion of "a good-natured man." I never manifested a dis- trip of no longer continuance than ours was to be. “I>position to attend to every body's business rather than my deed! these bundles do not belong to me,' was his reply. own; to fritter away my time in making scrap books for They have been sent me by Mrs. A. and Miss B. and the the amusement of the young ladies, or in playing the im- widow C. &c. with the request that I would deliver then portant part of a reel, that the old ladies might wind their as directed in Charlottesville and Staunton. As we paryarn from off my hands; to run on errands for this one, pose stopping a few days in each of those places. I shall and for that one, and indeed for any one who might find it have an abundance of time to deliver them." "If such is convenient to make use of my services;-nor would I your case, you will certainly have employment for your lounge about, in the sun by winter, and in the shade by idle hours. But how, in the name of all that is good, have summer, talking about the trifles of the day with any one you contrived to get so many put under your charge? I am who might have no better employment than myself;--nor going the same route; and yet, I have received but one when I sat down to business or study, would I throw aside letter and a small package in charge, which our landlady my books at the appearance of every idle visiter, showing has requested me to deliver to her sister in Staunton:plainly by my countenance, that he had relieved me from whilst you, had you put forth an advertisement as carrier an unpleasant employment, and thus with "silent elo- general,' could hardly have had a greater load than that you quence" beseeching him to stay. Philip, on the other hand, now have." "You were always a lucky fellow; whilst 1, was remarkable for all these things; and notwithstanding if there is any bad luck agoing, am sure to have it fall to the many excellent lectures he had received from his my share. But the truth is, as I was anticipating this trip, friends, still continued an incorrigibly good-natured man I mentioned it to my different acquaintances, and wishing any one might impose upon him, and he would seldom if to do a favor where it might be in my power, I offered to ever utter a word of complaint. I once thought that a se- take charge of any letters or bundles they might wish to rious representation of the consequences of his course, send to their friends, and these are the fruits of my offers followed up with a little good advice now and then oppor- but how I shall ever get them all into my trunk is more tunely given, would reform him. I knew that he was not than I can tell. I have selected the largest one I possess, destitute of ambition; that no one would feel more loath and this is now the third time I have packed them over in than he, deliberately to sit down a cypher in the world; the vain hope of getting them all in. I wish you would knew too, that he was fully aware of the fact, that hard take charge of one or two of them for me." I should have study and close application alone could ensure success in felt no objection to complying with so reasonable a request, that profession which he had chosen ;—for no one had more had the bundles belonged to Philip himself, or had they exalted notions of what the accomplished lawyer should be been such as he had any business to have troubled himse than he, and none could insist more eloquently upon the with; but feeling vexed with him for suffering himself to importance of a thorough acquaintance not only with law, be thus imposed upon, I told him, that as I intended carrybut with general literature, to one who wished to be an ing nothing but a valise, which was full already, I of course honor to his profession;--and furthermore, I knew that he could render him no assistance. After receiving this anwas not averse to exertion, for no one could labor more in swer, poor Phil. returned to his work; and just as he had dustriously than he would for his friends;-that all the evil succeeded, after much pressing and fixing and packing, in in his case arose from excessive good-nature ;—and know- getting every thing into the trunk, a servant entered with ing this, the hope that good advice would be sufficient to re- a bandbox, and a note from Mrs. D. Phil. looked rather form him, once seemed to me a reasonable hope. But ex- blank as he read the note; and handing it over to me, toni perience had long since taught me, that on this point I had the servant to say to Mrs. B. that he would attend to the erred; that I had formed an incorrect estimate of a charac- matter for her. The note ran thus: ter made up of such elements as his. Whilst in college, I had taken an opportunity to talk to him seriously about the folly of his course; and he, after listening patiently to all I had to say, and assenting too to the justice of every remark as it was made, concluded with--" Well! I mean to turn over a new leaf next week. But to return to the subject I was talking about; what do you think of Johnson's saying that Miss C. has blue eyes? Why, her eyes are dark hazel, as every one must see.' "When I found that the utmost I could accomplish, was to bring him to a reso lution to "turn over a new leaf next week," I gave up all hope of reforming him by such means. The very good. "Mrs. D.'s compliments to Mr. Baldwin. In cousequence of your kind offer, I will trouble you to take charge of the bandbox which I send, and to deliver it to Miss E in Charlottesville. As the bandbox is not a very strong one, I will be much obliged to you if you will have it pot in the inside of the stage. Wishing you much pleasure in your intended trip, I remain yours, &c. F. D. "P. S. If the bandbox will be any trouble to you, please send it back by the servant." "And do you really intend taking charge of this bandhut, and delivering it in Charlottesville as requested ””inquires. "I do not see how I can well refuse it, after offering to I. take any thing which Mrs. D. might wish to send." "But vest, stained all over with blood, at once brought him fully supposing the day is very warm, as it now threatens to be, to himself. His first thoughts, Frenchman like, were given and the stage is crowded, as it generally is at this season to his stained frill; and forgetting the rules of politeness; of the year, how can you carry it in the inside?" "I see which at all other times he scrupulously observed, he exno other way but to carry it on my knees," said Phil.; claimed, "My beautiful frill be ruined. I can never get "though I do think that Mrs. D. might, at least, have pro- him made up in America-mon Dieu! What for de gentlevided a bandbox strong enough to have taken its chances man carry de bandbox in de stage, and not put him on de upon the top of the stage ;—and in sober earnest I do wish outside wid de oder baggage?" Philip, who had also been this bandbox was at the bottom of the sea." 46 Why not dozing, was awakened by the outcry of the Frenchman; send it back to Mrs. D., telling her that you would be very and seeing how matters stood, with real concern depicted glad to oblige her, but that you have as much baggage in his countenance, assisted in stanching the flow of blood already as you can take charge of? She certainly will not from the Frenchman's nose; and began to apologise for be offended, as she says expressly, in her postscript, "if placing the bandbox on the seat. At the same time, to the bandbox will be any trouble to you, please send it prevent further mishap, he placed the bandbox upon his back." "My dear fellow, you may know a great deal knees, and promised that for the remainder of the journey about law, but you certainly know very little about the he would carry it before him. The little Frenchman, after ways of the world, or you would never propose such a giving vent to various exclamations, in which there was a course as that. Unless Mrs. D. had felt perfectly certain ludicrous mixture of vexation and politeness, first one and that I would take the bandbox, she would never have put then the other prevailing, like the cloud and the sunshine such a postscript to her letter:-and that postscript, instead of an April day, concluded with: "De gentleman's apoloof meaning what it purports to mean, means in reality, 'Igy is sufficient, vraiment! but me is very misfortunate to shall feel very much hurt if you do not take it.' And be-get de frill stained which was made up in Paris :-but de sides all this, when I offered her my services, I now recol- gentleman's bandbox no mean it :-" and so laying himself lect, she did say something about a bandbox; and I, fool back in his corner again, soon forgot his misfortune in sleep. that I was, assured her that a bandbox would be no trouble When the Frenchman's eyes were fairly closed, so that I Whatever. So you see, the matter is settled." "If such could do so without attracting his notice, I could not help is your case, as I can render you no assistance, I will bid looking across to my friend Phil. to see how he took the you a good afternoon,' only stopping to add my wishes to matter. His countenance wore a curious expression, in those of Mrs. D., that you may have much enjoyment in which, sorrow for the Frenchman's misfortune, amuseyour contemplated pleasure trip." The next morning, long ment at the ridiculous concern he had manifested for his before the first gray light of dawn' had streaked 'the frill, whilst his nose had been entirely forgotten, and vexaeastern horizon, I repaired to the hotel, and took my seat tion at being compelled to carry the cumbrous bandbox in the stage already before the door. In the course of a on his knees, were so equally mingled, that it required a few minutes, all our company, with the exception of my better physiognomist than I was, to tell which feeling was friend Phil. were in their places, and their driver ascended predominant. For the remainder of the journey, the bandhis box and was about to start, when I interposed, and with box caused no further trouble, excepting to Philip himself; good deal of entreaty persuaded him to wait a few mi- yet his carrying it so carefully on his knee throughout Bites. Delay in such circumstances is always vexatious the day, warm and dusty as the day was, seemed to excite to a stage company, and seldom passes without calling the surprise of all the company. More especially was forth more or less complaint. On the present occasion, this the case with an elderly maiden lady, (the one who the driver's patience was nearly exhausted, by the grumbling had "wondered what could keep the stage waiting," in of a fleshy old man, who "did not like to be waked up the morning) as was evident from the curiosity with which before the time;" and an old lady on the back seat had she eyed both it and its bearer. Like many other ladies, "wondered" for the third time "what it could be that kept who have passed the prime of life without having the care the stage so long," although she had heard every word I of a family or household matters to occupy their attention, had spoken to the driver; when Phil. came in sight, car-she had evidently become something of a philosophress, (if ying the bandbox already mentioned, and followed by a I may be allowed to coin a word) and had acquired, at least servant puffing and blowing under the weight of a well in her own estimation, no little skill in reasoning back from filled trunk. At the appearance of my friend, the storm effects to their causes. That such was the fact, I inferred which had been gathering subsided, with an indistinct from a remark of hers which I happened to overhear as we growl about “some persons," and "lazy," and "think the were leaving the stage for dinner. The remark was to this world must stand still for them," and soon all was calm. effect: "I do most sincerely pity a man who has such a Fortunately for Phil., the stage was not crowded, and he wife as that man with the bandbox must have; and I wonhad no difficulty in finding room for his bandbox, as well der that any woman should have so little consideration as as himself, upon the front seat. The only other occupant to make her husband carry a bandbox in the stage such a of the seat was a little Frenchman, who had lately arrived day as this." "But are you sure, aunt," inquired the young in this country, and was now on his way to join the crowd lady to whom the foregoing remark was addressed, "that of the gay and fashionable, who annually congregate during it is his wife who compels him to carry it? I am sure the the hot months of the summer, at the Virginian Springs. gentleman has a very good-natured countenance, and does Nothing more, worthy of remark, occurred until about sun- not look as if he had an unquiet home." "His looks may rise; an hour at which a spirit of slumber always pervades deceive such as you, child," replied the aunt, "but I have a company of travellers, who have been awakened at an seen too much of the world to be taken in in that way. It unseasonable hour to commence a journey. At this time, is all his wife's work, you may depend upon it;-some the little Frenchman, who had been nodding for the last women have no more feeling than to do just such a thing. half hour, was so completely overpowered by his drowsi-I am sure if I had been his wife, I would either have kept ness as to lose all command of his head, when a sudden the bandbox at home, or else have had it put on the top of jolt of the stage, brought his nose in such forcible contact the stage. And this is another proof of the truth of the with the bandbox, that the blood started from it in a stream. remark I have often made, 'that men show so little judg The pain caused by this unfortunate rencontre, startled ment in the selection of their wives, that the world would him from his slumber; and a sight of the beautifully plaited be much better off if they would give it up into our hands.'" frill which stood out from the open breast of his snow-white This conversation, I afterwards repeated to Phil.; and |