For the Southern Literary Messenger.
OR, A FASHIONABLE AND AN UNFASHIONABLE NEW ENGLAND WIFE.
OR, A FASHIONABLE AND AN UNFASHIONABLE NEW ENGLAND WIFE.
Horace Lawrence and Ellen Frazier had been three years married, when Alpheus North, their friend, and nearest neighbor, brought home his beautiful bride, the accomplished Anna Weston.
They resided in a little village, the principal attraction of which was, that it was a good place for business. The village was, indeed, beautifully situated. From every point the landscape was diversified by hill and dale—the one crowned by here and there a towering oak,—the other shaded by the branching elm. The clear waters of the river, pursuing its rather circuitous course, might be seen from every eminence; and its passage being in many places obstructed, waterfalls added to the variety and beauty of the scenery.
But the inhabitants of the village had been influenced by other motives than the gratification of the eye, to locate themselves on this favored spot. Theusefulwas to them the onlytruly beautiful;and however much the admirer of the lovely and picturesque in nature might have regretted it, there men of business delighted in adding mill to mill,—and in seeing the fine river obstructed by logs and slabs,—and every corner wearing the appearance of a lumber-yard. It was a real business place. The men were all intent on accumulating dollars and cents; and although among their wives and daughters, there was abundance of tea-drinking, visiting, and sociability,—and here and there an effort at the genteel,—there was neither science, nor literature, nor refinement in the place, excepting the little that just retained the breath of life, in the habitation of the aged pastor of the parish, and that which was enclosed in the room of the young physician.
Had he consulted taste alone, the village of L—— was the last place Horace Lawrence would have selected as his place of residence; for he was scientific, literary, and refined,—calculated at once, to enjoy and adorn polished society; but though the son of a gentleman, a finished education was all his father could give him;—of course he had his own fortune to make. He was a lawyer, and the village of L—— presented a fair opening for one of that profession.
As soon as his business was sufficiently established to warrant it, he had married. He did not choose Ellen Frazier because she was either the most beautiful, the most accomplished, or the most fascinating young lady of his acquaintance; but because she had superior strength of mind, and firmness of character,—was amiable, well-principled, and well-informed—and therefore likely to make a judicious friend, and a good wife and mother. She belonged to a family that had for successive generations ranked high in New England for learning and piety; but her father was in narrow circumstances; and all the money he had to spare, was expended on the education of his two sons;—so that Ellen was constrained to make the most of her resources, to acquire the education of a gentlewoman. But she loved knowledge,—and when that is the case, no one will remain in ignorance. She was not scientific, but her mind was richly stored with useful knowledge, which rendered her a valuable friend, and a most entertaining companion. And in her own mother she had been blessed with a living example of all that is most valuable in woman, in the several relations of life. Mr. Lawrence was not disappointed in his wife. She possessed his entire confidence; and every year witnessed an increase of his respect and affection for her. They were a well-matched, and happy pair.
Alpheus North was a native of the village of L——. His father was an untaught man, but shrewd and intelligent; and by dint of industry and frugality, arose from being a shoemaker, his bench his only property, to having money in the stocks,—two or three saw-mills on the river, and a very genteel house, beautifully situated in the outskirts of the village. Resolved that his son should be, what he was conscious he himself was not, namely, a gentleman, he spared no expense on his education. And he met the only return he wished;—Alpheus was a scholar, and an elegant man. He was more. For while his father had been thinking of his education and fortune, and providing for both, his mother had been thinking of his heart. She was an illiterate woman, but devotedly pious; and she thought little of the prospects of her children for this world, in comparison with their fitness for the next. Her first object had been to bring them up in "the nurture and admonition of the Lord;" and if all the holy desires of her heart were not satisfied in their behalf, they were certainly well-principled; reverencing the Bible, and respecting, if not possessing true piety. And Alpheus, the only son, was the most amiable, the most tender, the most hopeful of them all.
Mr. and Mrs. North died within a few months of each other, the year that Alpheus left college; and he inherited from his father the house in L——, beside other property to the amount of fifteen thousand dollars. Having no predeliction for either of the learned professions, and feeling strongly attached to his native place, he established himself at L—— as a merchant.
Anna Weston was the only child of parents, who, though neither well-educated, nor well-mannered, moved in the first circles in the town in which they resided, nobody knew why, and supported their station, nobody knew how. They always contrived to appear genteelly in their house, without any obvious means; for Mr. Weston's whole business seemed to be, the now and then taking the acknowledgement of a deed, or some other trifling business as a justice of peace; and no one could name any property as his,—whether houses, or lands, or money. This, however, only gave rise to idle speculation, and furnished conversation for those vacant minds, that can find no more entertaining or instructive subject of conversation, than the affairs of their neighbors; for he owed no man anything, and therefore no one was really concerned as to the exact amount of his property. The fact was, that both Mr. and Mrs. Weston were remarkably skilful in making a good deal of show, with very limited means; and their study from January to December was how to keep up appearances.
Anna was the idol of her parents. She was beautiful in person, and amiable in disposition,—with as muchtactas father and mother both. Her education was completely superficial; but she studied every thinga little,—and by usually being seen in the morning with a book in her hand, and often speaking of her favorite studies, it was taken for granted, that her mind was uncommonly well stored. But every thing about her character and acquirements was completely artificial, her sweetness of temper alone excepted.
Anna was visiting an old school-fellow in Boston, when Alpheus North for the first time saw her. Her beauty instantly captivated his eye; her graceful, and somewhat showy manners, pleased his fancy; and her amiable disposition and sprightly conversation, engaged his affections. He was soon deeply in love; and before declaring himself, only wished to know, whether her principles were such as the son of a mother like his own could approve. He conversed with her on the subject of religion, and was delighted to find, not only that her feelings were tender, but that she was a member of the church in her native town. He at once offered his hand, which was accepted; and in due time he brought his beautiful bride to L——, after having taken her to Saratoga Springs, and one or two other places of fashionable resort.
Between Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence, and Alpheus North, there was no ceremony. Similarity of education, and, on some accounts, congeniality of taste, had made them fond of each other's society from first acquaintance; and time had ripened this early preference into friendship. Mr. North was ever a welcome visiter at the house of Mr. Lawrence, where he was treated more as a brother than as a common acquaintance.
The next morning after his arrival at L—— with his bride, he called upon Mrs. Lawrence, to bespeak from her an early call; as Mrs. North must necessarily feel solitary among entire strangers; and, indeed, where there were none with whom she could wisheverto be intimate, Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence alone excepted. He hoped he should now be able, in some degree, to requite the cordial hospitality that had been accorded to him, and which had constituted so large a share of his happiness.
In a short time an intimacy between the two families was established. Mrs. Lawrence could not, indeed, very frequently visit Mrs. North, as she had two young children; and her wish to promote the comfort of her husband, to superintend the general well being of her family, and take care of these little ones, kept her, the greater part of her time, within her own doors. But Mrs. North had no confinement,—and with the most graceful ease she waived ceremony, and at any hour of the day would put her blooming and smiling face into the nursery, the parlor, or whatever room Mrs. Lawrence might chance to be in, and be quite at home.
Two months had elapsed since Mrs. North came to L——, when one morning as she was sitting in the nursery with Mrs. Lawrence, she said—
"I look upon you with increasing astonishment every day, to see you always so cheerful and happy." Mrs. Lawrence looked up in some surprise, and inquired, "Why she should be otherwise."
"Why?—Because you are so perpetually employed—shut up in your own house. I should think you would be wretched!"
"I am so constantly, and necessarily, and, for a greater part of the time, sointerestinglyemployed, that I have no leisure to be unhappy," said Mrs. Lawrence, with a smile.
"Interestingly! Pardon me," said Mrs. North, "but can domestic concernseverbe interesting?"
"How can you ask such a question, my dear Mrs. North?"
"Call me Anna, do—I hateMrs. Northfrom an intimate friend,—especially one somewhat older than myself," said Mrs. North. "But tell me how you can beinterestedin what I have thought must be irksome to every one."
"Every affectionate wife, my dearAnna," said Mrs. Lawrence, "must beinterestedto promote the comfort and prosperity of her husband; every mother, especially everychristianmother, must be interested in the care and instruction of her children; and my Lucius is now two years old—capable, therefore, of receiving moral impressions that may endure through eternity;—andevery lady should strive to be so much of a lady, as to have her whole household well regulated, and all domestic business well, and reasonably performed."
"O, certainly," said Mrs. North. "Yet every human being needs recreation. You will soon wear yourself out by such unceasing attention to domestic duties."
"By no means. You know that variety of objects and occupations is an antidote to exhaustion; beside, books and my flower-garden are a never failing source of pleasure and relaxation. Indeed, my dear Mrs. North, I wonder how a wife and mother can ever knowennui, or find much time to devote to general society."
"Would I had your resources," said Mrs. North. "But, really, were it not for you, I believe I should die ofennuiin this stupid, vulgar place, notwithstanding I have the kindest, and most attentive husband in the world. But he cannot always be with me, of course; and when he is attending to business, you are my only resource. Do you know that for a month past, I have been dreading the approach of this week?"
"On what account?"
"Because I thought that when Mr. Lawrence went to attend court, you would certainly go with him, after having been immured so long. I dreaded it so much, I could not even ask you whether or not you should go."
"I very seldom go anywhere with Mr. Lawrence, to be absent more than one day," said Mrs. Lawrence. "We do not feel quite easy to be from home at the same time."
"And do you ever go without him?" asked Mrs. North.
"Not very often; for when he is with me, home is much the pleasantest place in the world. My friend," she added, with a smile, "you have not yet been a wife long enough to know much about it. Three or four years hence you will find employment enough; and that which, I doubt not, will prove so interesting, that you will not be willing to transfer it to other hands."
"Perhaps so—but, really, I do love society. I do love to drive about a little, and see the world, and the people that are in it. And, by the way, do you know that I go to Boston, with Alpheus, in a fortnight? Business calls him there,—and he says he cannot go without me. I am glad of it, truly. I should not like to ask him to take me with him,—and stay at home, alone, I could not!"
"I am glad you are to have the pleasure of a journey," said Mrs. Lawrence. "And there is no reason why you should not. Mr. North is, of course, at present, your principal care; and you have little else to do, but study to promote his happiness."
The journey to Boston on business was only the precursor of another, in a different direction, for pleasure; for Mr. North, himself, loved to visit different parts of the country; he took pride in the admiration and attention his young wife commanded; and, beside, he could not but perceive that L—— seemed more and more unpleasant to her, after every excursion,—and it was his constant desire to promote the happiness of one so tenderly beloved. Perhaps he took not the most certain way to increase her happiness;—but that was the fault of his head—not his heart!
Mrs. North neverteazed, or evenaskedher husband for any gratification. She was, at once too amiable, and too polite to do either; yet she had a way of her own—and a most graceful and fascinating way it was—of leading him on to propose the very thing she had resolved on,—and then yielding to his plan, with an air of relinquishing some more favored scheme of her own, for the pleasure of gratifying him. Indeed, every thing she did, was done in the most amiable and graceful manner—even to the spending of money, which she did with the air of a princess. And her husband sometimes feared she was alittletoo profuse; but she dressed with such taste; was so generous, and so much thebellewherever she appeared, that he could not find it in his heart to supply her purse less liberally.
For nearly three months Mr. and Mrs. North were scarcely at L—— for more than a week at a time; and the cold winds and bad roads of November, alone led them to settle quietly at home. On every return to L——, Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence had been duly visited; and now, when the autumnal campaign was fairly over, their society was more needed, more valued than ever. Scarcely twenty-four hours passed, without bringing Mrs. Lawrence the favor of a longer or shorter visit.
"And so, my dear Mrs. Lawrence, you have not been five miles from L——, since my journey to Boston last August?"
"I have not."
"Nor wanted to be, I suppose," said Mrs. North.
"All circumstances considered, I have not," answered Mrs. Lawrence. "It would afford me great pleasure to see various parts of the world,—in the Southern as well as Northern States of the Union,—in Europe as well as America; but as I am situated, by the providence of an all-wise Father, I must content myself with the knowledge of different places, that I can derive from books. And this, if not so satisfactory, is, at least, a cheaper mode of obtaining information, than travelling."
Two things in this answer struck Mrs. North. "A cheaper mode!" Yes—as Mr. Lawrence inherited no fortune, it was necessary for his wife to think of economy. How fortunate for herself that Mr. North's father was a rich man! "Knowledge—travelling to obtain knowledge!" The idea had never before occurred to her mind. She had always travelled solely for pleasure.
Mrs. Lawrence really felt attached to Mrs. North. Her amiable temper and pleasing manners had won her affections, and she wished to do her good. She soon learned that her friend had many false notions: that, in her estimation, wealth was the most valuable distinction; that show was elegance; and that dress and idleness were gentility. She saw, too, that she was nearly, or quite destitute of internal sources of happiness; that all the nobler powers of her mind lay dormant; that she seemed to have no idea of intellectual pleasures. Mrs. Lawrence had no conception of the difficulty of the task she wished to accomplish; she knew not how deep-rooted were the evils she wished to subdue; knew not that they were completely intertwined with her whole mental constitution.
Mrs. Lawrence often heard Mrs. North talk of books; and she directed her to a course of reading, which she thought would at once prove highly interesting and beneficial. But Mrs. North had never really read a book for pleasure, or for intellectual improvement, in her life. She had never been taught by her parents, and had never conceived the idea herself, that the object in the acquisition of knowledge, was to fit her for the discharge of duties to herself and others.
The knowledge she really possessed, was acquired for the express purpose ofdisplay—to give her distinction in the circle in which she moved. Of course she had gone about the acquisition of it, not as a pleasure, but as a task that must be accomplished. Mrs. Lawrence had likewise heard her speak of the benevolent societies with which she had been connected in her native place, and she strove to awaken her sympathies for the poor in L——, and excite interest in benevolent enterprises of a higher order. But although Mrs. North would give freely, and, particularly if a subscription paper was handed about, would subscribe liberally, there was evidently no heart in her charities. She could find no pleasure in searching out the destitute and afflicted in her own person. If she heard of one who was sick, she would perhaps send them a sum of money preposterously large, thatMrs. North might be spoken of as a most munificent lady;but she could not have made a basin of broth, to have saved a life. She knew nothing of the system of benefitting the poor at a very trifling expense of time and labor, by making comfortable garments out of old ones that were lying useless, an encumbrance to closets and drawers. It is nearly useless to give such garments to the poor in an unprepared state; seldom have they sufficient ingenuity, or patience, or industry, to turn them to profitable account. Mrs. Lawrence was fully aware of this; and she was remarkable for the ingenuity and dexterity with which she would make a comfortable suit of clothes for a poor child, out of garments that appeared not worth a farthing. She was a blessing to the poor around her; and her husband had in no way to pay the penalty of her charities, as is sometimes, unhappily, the case. Mrs. Lawrence endeavored to interest Mrs. North in this way of doing good; but the attempt was fruitless. How could a lady degrade herself by attending to such occupations! How could the delicate and elegant Mrs. North bend her beautiful person over such work; or soil and deface her fair, round fingers by such menial employments! Equally unavailing were all Mrs. Lawrence's efforts, to interest her friend in the cultivation of flowers, or in any employment or pursuit, by which she could make herself happy in solitude.
The piety of Mrs. North was in perfect accordance with every other point in her character. At a season of revival of religion in her native place, many of her youthful companions becoming deeply interested in the subject, her sympathies were awakened; and she mistook these feelings, as is, alas, too often the case, for renovation of heart.—Beside, "religion walked in her golden slippers;" it wasfashionableto be benevolent, and charitable, and attend meetings; and Anna Weston went with others; and with others she publicly and solemnly "avouched the Lord to be her God," and consecrated herself to his service! But one view of her own heart she had never had. She still loved the world, and the things of the world, "the lusts of the eye, and the pride of life," and scarcely felt, or knew that it was wrong. She lived for herself; and she loved herself—supremely; and she was not conscious, much less was Mr. North, that her strongly expressed attachment to her husband, principally arose from the ability he possessed to gratify her in all the selfish desires of her heart.
Mrs. Lawrence could not but perceive that the feelings of Mrs. North were very superficial on the subject of religion; and she knew that the views that resulted in such practice, must be erroneous. As a christian, deeply interested in the honor of Him "who had redeemed her to God by his own blood,"—and anxious that every one of his professed disciples should "walk worthy of their high vocation," she often conversed with Mrs. North on the subject; and by the gentlest and most touching appeals, strove to touch her heart, and awaken andenlightenher conscience. But here, too, she was unsuccessful. Mrs. North would so readily assent to all she said, with "Certainly"—"O, yes, every christian should feel and act thus,"—that Mrs. Lawrence felt that the case was, at present, hopeless. There was nofeeling;there was not eventhought;—it was a mere assent of the voice.
But an event was now in prospect that seemed to have a great effect on Mrs. North; and which frequently has a vast effect in deciding character. Life is always uncertain,—and, in a moment of reflection, every one is willing to acknowledge it; but when a lady has the prospect of becoming a mother, there is a definite period to which she looks forward, as the one in which she may be called from time into eternity. It is an unthinking woman indeed, who is never serious under such circumstances. Mrs. North was far otherwise. Life was very dear to her; since her marriage it had been a scene of unclouded sunshine. But now there was a dark curtain raised before her, beyond which she trembled to look.
Mrs. Lawrence was one of the most judicious of woman. She cheered and sustained her friend's spirits, not by leading her to forget, or think lightly of her danger, but by teaching her to look at it rationally,—and be in a state of preparation for her hour of trial.—And never had she been so much encouraged, for never had Mrs. North appeared so much as she wished to see her. Her feelings were very tender, and a review of the many blessings she had enjoyed, seemed to fill her with gratitude for the past; and inspire in her some degree of confidence for the future. She professed to hope, that whether she were to live, or to die, all would be well.
At length Mrs. North became the joyful mother of a fine son; and her feelings were in a glow of gratitude. Her heart seemed to expand with love for every one. Her husband—her friend—never had they been half so dear!—With her congratulatory kiss, while the tears of deep tenderness suffused her eyes, Mrs. Lawrence whispered—"Consecrate yourself, dearest Anna, and this precious little immortal, to the service of Him who has been your benefactor and preserver!" With tremulous lips, Mrs. North returned the kiss, and emphatically whispered—"O dear friend, may I never forget the impressions of this hour? May I never forget the deep debt of gratitude I owe to my Father in heaven?"
But, alas, it was not the goodness of Ephraim alone that was "as the morning cloud, and the early dew!" for the greater part of the goodness of the whole human family is of the same transitory and fleeting nature. At the end of six weeks, when Mrs. North left her chamber, she was precisely the Mrs. North of the year before—equally thoughtless, equally negligent of duty. With pain Mrs. Lawrence witnessed all this;—with deep pain she saw indications that the character of afashionable womanmust be supported at the expense of being an unnatural mother.
Physicians, when practising in fashionable houses, have a wonderful faculty of divining what prescriptions will be most agreeable. Mrs. North had a fine constitution; but like many women brought up with false notions, she conceived that firm health and refinement were incompatible with each other. Dr. G——, was very willing to humor her whim, as it was in no way detrimental to his pecuniary interest; and he cheerfully acquiesced in her recovering from her confinement as slowly as she pleased. And when, by her own confession she was well, he put the cap-stone to the favor in which he previously stood with her, by saying, what his shrewd observation told him would just accord with her wishes, namely—that her strength was quite unequal to the task of nursing; her babe must be sent from home;—the Dr. knew just the nurse for it—a fine, healthy, good-natured woman, who would take the best possible care of it, for two dollars a week; and Mrs. North must take a journey, as change of air and scene were indispensable to the perfect restoration of her health.
Mrs. Lawrence was truly grieved when she found this arrangement was made. She had foreseen the probability of it, but she could not be reconciled to the measure. She justly considered maternal feelings among the most sacred that belong to earth; and she knew that nothing more strengthens a mother's love, than the entire dependance of the child on her for comfort and happiness. She was fully convinced, that anything that weakens this tie, that nature has made so strong, must be injurious alike to both parent and offspring. She was musing on the subject when her husband came in.
"You look sad, my dear Ellen. What is the matter?"
"Mrs. North has put the dear little boy out to nurse."
"She is a fashionable woman! Did you not expect it?"
"I feared it—but I blame Dr. G——, for had he not have proposed it, I think Anna would have kept the poor little thing with her. He says, too, that she must journey to confirm her health."
"He knows his patient," said Mr. Lawrence.
"You are severe, my dear husband."
"Do you think so?—but time will show. Meantime I am going to take you a journey."
"Me! where?"
"To Fryburg. Business calls me there next week—I shall be absent from home but few days, and the excursion will do you good. Be it as it may with Mrs. North, change of air and scene are really necessary for you."
"But the children?" said Mrs. Lawrence.
"I have provided for them," said Mr. Lawrence. "Nurse Bevey has promised to come and take care of them during our absence?"
"Well, since you have arranged it all," said Mrs. Lawrence, "do propose to Alpheus that he and Anna accompany us. It may suffice,—and prevent them from taking one of those long journies that I begin to dread."
Mr. and Mrs. North were delighted with the proposal. Preparations were immediately commenced, and at the appointed time, they all set out on their excursion. We shall not travel with them. Suffice it to say, that on the evening of the second day after their departure, they arrived at Mrs. O——'s hotel, in Fryburg. Mr. Lawrence was rather impatient, as the journey might have been performed in much less time. But short stages, and long rests were necessary for Mrs. North—at least she said so—and Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence could not with propriety drive on before them.
On the morning after their arrival, on looking about them, the ladies were both in raptures at the scenery around. They had seen nothing like it before. But we will accompany them to the little Jockey-Cap mountain, which lies not far from a mile from Mrs. O——'s, which they ascended in the afternoon, and hear what they say of it there.
"This little mountain is not difficult of ascent," said Mr. Lawrence, when they had attained its summit—"yet it is rather wearisome, making ones way through the shrub-oaks—so do you, my dear Ellen, and Mrs. North, rest awhile on this table of granite, and amuse yourselves by picking out some of the well-defined garnets that are imbedded in the rock. When you are rested, you may come with us toward the verge of the precipice, and view the scenery around."
In a few minutes the ladies got over their fatigue,—and joined their husbands to enjoy the prospect.
"What is the name of this beautiful sheet of water on our left, Mr. Lawrence?" asked Mrs. North.
"It is called 'Lovell's pond,'" replied Mr. Lawrence. "It was on the margin of this peacefullake, as it should be called, that Capt. Lovell and his company of militia, met Pangus, the Indian Sachem, at the head of a part of his tribe, prepared for deadly conflict. In Lovell's company was a man named John Chamberlain. His rifle, as well as that of Pangus, had become foul from frequent firing. Standing but a few paces apart, each cleaned his rifle at the pond—and each commenced loading at the same moment,—while each watched the motions of the other with the most intense interest—knowing that he that was first ready to discharge his rifle, would undoubtedly be sole survivor. The rifle of Chamberlain was so much worn, that in being loaded, it primed itself. This circumstance decided the fate of the Indian Chief—he fell."1
1After the "fight" at Lovell's pond, the remains of the Pigwacket tribe of Indians, left the woods and lakes of New Hampshire and Maine, for the broader waters and deeper forests of Canada. In 1777, Chamberlain had become an old grey-headed man,—living alone, and laboring in a saw mill to support himself. He was one evening informed that a young Indian had appeared in the Village, with rifle, wampum belt and tomahawk, having the noble bearing of old Pangus, the Sachem. Chamberlain instantly took the alarm; but old as he was, was not intimidated. Well knowing the Indian character and habits, about the dusk of the evening he put his mill in rapid motion, raised his coat as a "decoy"—and retired to a short distance to watch what might follow. In a short time he witnessed the cautious approach of the savage, who repeatedly advanced and receded, ere he aimed his rifle at the coat. As soon as he had fired, and raised himself to his full height, (which was above six feet) to ascertain the effect of his aim, Chamberlain discharged the same rifle that had taken the life of the Sachem. As the bullet went through his heart, young Pangus sprung some feet in the air, and fell lifeless in the stream below.
"O, the ever wakeful Providence of our Heavenly Father," whispered Mrs. Lawrence.
"The beautiful swell of land, directly in front of us, and clothed with verdure to its summit, is Starkes-hill," said Mr. Lawrence; "that on our right, just back of the village, is Kearsarge mountain."
"And those beyond, piled one upon another, in seemingly endless succession—far—far as the eye can reach," cried Mrs. Lawrence, "are the celebrated white mountains of New-Hampshire. O, how sublime! how grand! how awful! And Mount Washington raises its towering head far above the others, as if to overlook, and guard them all. What majesty is here!—and how elevating to the soul, to view such specimens of our Creator's workmanship!"
"And what is the name of this beautiful stream, that flows between us, and the highlands?" asked Mrs. North.
"This river," replied Mr. North, "still retains its Indian appellation—the Saco!"
"And see," said Mrs. Lawrence, "how it winds around and about, as if reluctant to leave this broad and beautiful intervale, and striving to linger in it to the last possible moment."
"I have been told," said Mr. Lawrence, "that before some short canals were cut, to accelerate the passage of lumber down the stream, that the Saco ran upwards of thirty miles, in this place, in making the actual progress of only six towards the ocean."
"And then the beautiful, quiet village," said Mrs. Lawrence, "lying so securely amid its guardian mountains, with its long, straight street,—and its church and academy spires, pointing to heaven, speaking of spiritual and intellectual improvement. O, this scene is perfect in beauty!—and in grandeur! There the sublime and beautiful are most happily associated. The overpowering awe that steals upon one, while viewing those mighty efforts of creative power, which fills the soul with sensations altogether too big for utterance,—is modified, when the eye falls, and rests on the peaceful village, which speaks of human society, comfort and happiness. It seems as if the inhabitants, brought up with such scenes of beauty and sublimity constantly before them, must be more free from base and ignoble passions, than those who live and die amid scenery of a different character. Every spot on which the eye rests, speaks of the grandeur, the power, the benevolence—and, if I may so express myself, thetasteof the Divine Architect. I can conceive of nothing more beautiful—more perfect!—and nothing can have a more elevating effect on the soul of man! I must believe, with Dr. Dwight, that 'he who does not find in the various beautiful, sublime, awful and astonishing objects, presented to us in creation, irresistible and glorious reasons for admiring, adoring, loving and praising his Creator, has no claim to evangelical piety.'"
"You are an enthusiast, Mrs. Lawrence," said Mr. North, smiling.
"Perhaps I am. But nothing, aftermoral grandeur, touches my heart like the beautiful face of nature. Every flower and tree, and hill and valley that meets my eye, gives me delight,—and speaks to my soul of the glorious Being that made them:—how much more such a picture as is now spread before me!—My dear husband, when our children are old enough to appreciate its beauty, they must be brought to this spot. It cannot fail of having a salutary effect, both on the heart, and mind."
Mr. Lawrence pressed his wife's arm to his side, in token of approbation. His admiration was divided between the scenery before him, and a wife,—capable of deriving such exquisite delight, from so pure a source; and the piety of whose heart, gave a religious cast to every thing around her. He admired the grand and beautiful in nature,—but he admired her moral beauty and purity far more.
Mr. North, too, highly enjoyed the natural magnificence presented to his view; but Mrs. North had felt far greater sensible delight, when, with a well-filled purse, she had visited a repository of rich and fashionable goods, or the shop of her milliner. Yet she tried to be eloquent in praise of the beauties on which they gazed; for admiration of them was certainly at that momentfashionableon the summit of the Jockey-Cap; yet there was no heart in her exclamations of delight; there was no feeling in her expressions of admiration. Her remarks repressed rather than elicited enthusiasm. They were like a body without a soul.
On the third morning after their arrival at Fryburg, Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence prepared to return to L——. The latter was much surprised when she found that Mr. and Mrs. North were not to return with them.
"O, we are going through thenotchof the White Mountains," said Mrs. North. "We are told here, that the scenery beyond is infinitely more magnificent than this, and well worth a much longer journey to see."
"I doubt not its magnificence," said Mrs. Lawrence, "and should exceedingly like to view it; yet I much doubt whether any scene, in beauty of combination, can exceed that we have seen from the Jockey-Cap. But the little boy, my dear Anna!—Are you not anxious to see him?"
"O certainly—the little darling!—Yet he is in perfectly good hands, and a week or two can make no difference. He knows, as yet, no mother but nurse."
"Nor will he ever," thought Mr. Lawrence.—Mrs. Lawrence sighed.
"Will you take the trouble, my dear friend," said Mr. North, "to look in occasionally upon nurse, and see that she neglects not her duty?"
"O, do," said Mrs. North; "it will be a great relief to my feelings, to know that your vigilant eye, is now and then upon the dear boy."
A mingled expression of pity and contempt, sat on the features of Mr. Lawrence as he turned away; while Mrs. Lawrence promised to see the little one as often as possible, during the absence of the parents. They soon parted—the one pair for thenotch,—the other for home.
"I am truly grieved," said Mrs. Lawrence, when they were fairly on their homeward journey—"I am truly grieved that Alpheus does not return to L—— with us. I had hoped, that on becoming a mother, Anna's character would undergo a change. I hoped she would learn to love home, and domestic scenes. It is to be lamented, that such qualities as she has, qualities that might make a superior woman, should all be lost in the woman of fashion—the votary of pleasure. Fain would I do her good if I could—but I know not how to acquire influence over her mind."
"It is a hopeless case," answered Mr. Lawrence. "Her character has no foundation: It is all superstructure. She never acts from principle. She has no strength of mind. I mean not that she is naturally deficient in intellectual powers; but she is aparvenu, and all her mental efforts, instead of giving and increasing mental vigor, are directed to the one object of making a show, and noise in the world. And as is almost universally the case with those of her class, sheoverdoes. She is thoroughly selfish; and ere any real improvement can rationally be hoped for, the presentedificemust be completely demolished, and a foundation laid, of new views, new motives, and new principles. Poor Alpheus! I pity him. The greatest defect in his character, is that love of show that he inherited from his vulgar father,—and by which he was governed in the selection of a wife. He is so amiable and indulgent in his disposition, that he permits her to lead him as she will. I foresee that she will be his ruin."
Mrs. Lawrence called to see the "deserted baby" as she called him, the next day after her return to L——, and continued to do so, once or twice a week, until the return of his parents, which was delayed for something more than a month. He grew finely,—and before his mother's arrival, was beginning to "ca" and "coo" and smile in the nurse's face. And Mrs. Lawrence felt that it would bring a severe pang to her heart, were the first smile and look of love of an infant of her own, bestowed on an hireling,—however worthy she might be. But Mrs. North had noweaknessof this kind; on the contrary, she was delighted with the happiness he manifested in nurse's arms, as it was incontestible proof of her faithful discharge of duty.
Eight years passed away, and in that time the number of Mrs. North's children increased to four; but never was a woman less incommoded by a growing family. Never was there one on whom care sat more lightly. A few months confinement to L—— now and then, was to her the most serious part of the business. Five or six weeks, of as many winters, during this period, had been spent in Boston or New-York; for a whole winter in L——, unless confined to her chamber, Mrs. North declared would kill her outright. And the expense was nothing to be thought of; for Mr. Northmustgo to purchase goods, and attend to other mercantile concerns; and taking her with him made but little difference, as she must be supported somewhere,—and her being with him made not a great difference in the length of his stay. The summers she passed in L—— were rendered tolerable, by the society of those fashionable friends she from time to time invited to her house.
Meantime, however, sagacious people began to whisper, that Mr. North's partner in business, Mr. Mason, (a young man whom he had taken into partnership, that his affairs might not suffer from neglect, during his frequent absenses from home,) was growing rich,—not from dishonest practices, but by attention to business, and economy; while it was shrewdly conjectured that Mr. North lived to the full extent of his income, if not a little beyond it. Some persons of that class who can always foresee what will happen, predicted, that in five years the junior partner would be sole possessor of the stock in trade, if not the real estate of Mr. North.
At the close of the same period Mrs. Lawrence was the mother of five children. She had almost given up the hope of doing Mrs. North any personal good; but she watched over her friend's neglected children, during the long periods of her absence from home, with as much vigilance as was consistent with the faithful discharge of duty to her own. So far from exhausting,—her diligence increased her mental vigor; and her character was constantly improving in dignity, and in every christian grace. Mr. Lawrence had been unremitting in his attention to business,—and his property had gradually and constantly increased. His house contained every thing necessary for comfort, gentility, and intellectual improvement. All was in perfectkeeping. Good judgment, and correct taste were manifest in every thing in and about the dwelling, while there was nothing like show or splendor.
"Your husband is now rich, my dear Mrs. Lawrence," said Mrs. North, after one of her visits to New York, "and I wonder you do not change, in some measure, your style of furniture and living. You should have an elegant centre-table in your drawing-room, and damask curtains, like mine, instead of those modest ones that now hang at the windows,—beside some beautiful ornaments for the mantel. And in your library, that you love so well, and which is so nobly stocked with books, you must have some such delightfulloungesand chairs as I saw in New York,—that you may be quite at your ease while reading. A few of these things would make your house look delightfully."
"I am quite satisfied with my furniture, my dear Anna," replied Mrs. Lawrence,—"and can enjoy a book as much, and understand it as well, in my old fashioned rocking-chair, as if reclining on the most delightfulloungein the world."
"Undoubtedly you can; but why not pay some attention to fashion and elegance, both about your house and dress? I really wonder at the simplicity of your dress! Your apparel is always very well, certainly, as to material and form,—but it is too plain. I wish you would commission me to get some dresses for you;—you would look like another creature under my hands;—and you can perfectly well afford to consult your taste in these matters."
"Were the property of my husband twice as large as it is," said Mrs. Lawrence, "I could not feel justified in incurring unnecessary expense. We have now five children to educate; and that, of itself, will require alittle fortune. And independently of that, I could never be at peace with myself, should I expend in unnecessary ornament, that which would make so many light hearts, and cheerful faces among the poor,—to say nothing of the more noble, more holy object, of ameliorating the condition of the heathen world."
Mrs. North colored slightly as she replied—"I know the tenderness of your conscience; but surely one so remarkably disinterested and benevolent as yourself, may occasionally indulge a little without compunction. Do you not carry your scrupulosity too far?"
"There is little danger of our erring on the side of benevolence," said Mrs. Lawrence. "And if, when we appear for final judgment, it be said to us, 'inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these, ye did it unto me,' we shall hardly regret that we made not a more elegant and splendid appearance, while inhabiting, what will then emphatically appear to us, 'thisdimspot, called earth.'"
The following winter Mrs. North accompanied her husband to Boston. They had been absent nearly six weeks, when Mrs. Lawrence was one evening alarmed by the cry of 'fire,' and hastening to the door, she saw the flames bursting from that part of Mr. North's house, in which the nursery was situated. Giving hasty directions to her servants, she flew, with all possible speed, to the spot. Mr. Lawrence, and many others were already there, and had succeeded in rescuing all the children from the blazing chamber, though the third child was burned in a most shocking manner. All the children were immediately consigned to the care of Mrs. Lawrence, who had them instantly conveyed to her own house,—while a man was despatched to call Dr. G—— to the aid of the little sufferer.
Meantime the whole village was collected at Mr. North's house, which, by the most strenuous exertions, was saved from utter destruction, though greatly injured. The fire caught in the nursery, through the carelessness of the nursery-maid, who left the younger children, and a blazing fire, under the care of the elder,—while she joined the other servants in the kitchen, to talk over the gossip of the day.
In a short time, Dr. G—— arrived at the house of Mr. Lawrence, and after examining the suffering child, gave his opinion that he could not long survive the injury he had sustained.
As soon as Mr. Lawrence reached home, he despatched a letter and messenger to apprise Mr. and Mrs. North of the calamity that had befallen them; and in as short a time as possible they arrived at L——, the latter nearly frantic with grief.
When she could bring herself to see the little boy, that a few weeks before, she had left blooming in health and beauty—now a spectacle of horror—she was overwhelmed. Bitter were the reproaches she expended on the negligent nursery-maid: but more bitter still her own self-upbraiding. Repeatedly was she on the point of making a most solemn asseveration that never again, for a day, would she leave her dear,dearchildren. The moanings of the suffering child, seemed to rend her heart with anguish; and it appeared impossible that she could ever forgive herself.
She now appreciated the value of such a friend as Mrs. Lawrence. Her feelings were such, that she could do nothing for the afflicted boy; could not even remain in the room, while he was under the hands of the surgeon. Mrs. Lawrence was Dr. G——'s constant assistant,—and indeed almost the sole nurse of the child; from the hand of no one else would he willingly receive either food or medicine. Mrs. North looked on Mrs. Lawrence with astonishment; and could not but think, that with all her tenderness, there was ahard spotin her heart, that enabled her to be useful in such a scene of suffering. Mrs. North had no knowledge of that true christian sympathy, firmness, and philosophy, that impels one to relieve, instead of flying from suffering; and she dignified her own weak and selfish indulgence by the name of sensibility.
"O, my dear friend, how can I ever be sufficiently grateful for your kindness? Mysensibilitiesare such, that it shatters my nerves to pieces to witness suffering in any one—how much more in one's own sweet infant! How must the dear boy suffer, were there no one to help him but his poor,sensitivemother! It is really a misfortune to have a heart so feelingly constituted!"
The little boy lingered several weeks in great pain,—and then his liberated spirit took its flight from its decaying tenement. Three months after, Mrs. North became the mother of her fifth child; and as soon as she was able to go out, it was sent from home to nurse, like all its predecessors,—and she started on a journey to visit her parents. This journey was very well—very right; but Mrs. Lawrence feared that the impression made by her recent trouble, was fast fading away; that the rod of affliction would have no correcting influence;—produce no favorable change, either in character or conduct. When preparing to leave home, to have her mourning dresses of the most elegant, fashionable, and becoming kind, engrossed the whole woman, and left no room for any other thought or feeling. How inconceivably obdurate may the heart, even of a mother, be rendered by selfish indulgence!
The fears of Mrs. Lawrence were but too well founded. It was October when Mrs. North returned from her visit to her parents; and a few weeks after Mrs. Lawrence perceived there were great, and unusual preparations making for another journey. But she asked no questions. Her heart sickened; but she despaired of doing good, and was weary of giving unheeded admonitions; weary of attempting to touch a heart incased in the "triple mail" of vanity, selfishness, and love of pleasure.
Without inquiry she soon learned from Mrs. North, that she and Mr. North designed to spend the greater part of the winter in Washington. Mr. North had business as far as Philadelphia; they had both ever been anxious to visit the seat of government, and hear the eloquence of the senate; so good an opportunity might never again occur,—"and, really," Mrs. North added, "I have passed through scenes soheart-rending, so wearing to my constitution, that I need something more than ordinary, to restore me to myself again." She could leave home with an easy heart; for the unfaithful,cruelnursery-maid was dismissed from her service; and she had engaged Mrs. Berry, Mrs. Lawrence's own good nurse, (at very high wages, it was true,) to take care of her children, and superintend her household while she should be absent. At the appointed time they departed.
"Why will you thus grieve, my dear Ellen?" said Mr. Lawrence. "It is utterly useless."
"I know it, Horace, yet how can I help it? O, how completely do the love of pleasure, and the pride of fashion, destroy all the best feelings of the heart!—all the finest sensibilities of our natures!—To see a woman, capable of better things, thus bent on gratifying herself, in despite of every call of duty, and warning of Providence,—and leading an amiable husband to neglect every thing but herself, is dreadful; and yet, it is for the poor neglected children I grieve. What is to become of them? What can be expected of them?—thus continually left to their own guidance."
"Nothing good, of course, Ellen. They are a set of untaught, ungoverned, unmannered little bears; and must continue so, unless they are so fortunate as to lose their mother, or she reform. But you have done, and are still doing, all that a friend can do, under such circumstances. Having, therefore, discharged your duty, be cheerful, and borrow not troubles that properly belong to another."
Mrs. Lawrence received frequent letters from Mrs. North, filled with glowing descriptions of what she was seeing, and hearing, and doing; and wishes that her kind friend were with her to participate in such pleasures—pleasures that would suit even the correct and refined taste of Mrs. Lawrence,—they were so intellectual. She frequently expressed regret that time flew so rapidly, as she dreaded to leave scenes so replete with pleasure. In every letter she would sendkisses, or somethingequally valuableto her dear little ones; but said she felt perfectly easy about them, under the care of good Mrs. Berry; and having the eye of the best of friends frequently upon them.
Mr. and Mrs. North had been absent something more than two months, when Mr. Lawrence received a letter from the former, requesting the loan of a hundred or two of dollars. Mr. North said he had written to Mr. Mason for a remittance; but having a payment to make out, he had not been able to forward it to him. If Mr. Lawrence would oblige him, doubtless Mr. Mason would in a short time be able to reimburse him; if not, Mr. North would do so, immediately on his return to L——.
The very day this letter was received, Mr. Mason called at the office of Mr. Lawrence, to consult with him concerning what was to be done in the present juncture of Mr. North's affairs,—and as a preliminary measure, to secure to himself the store and goods it contained, which would scarcely be sufficient to satisfy his just demands. Mr. North's debts were numerous, and his creditors were becoming clamorous; and although Mr. Mason had written to him, he seemed not to be alarmed, and had given no directions.
Mr. Lawrence was unwilling to have any thing to do in this unhappy business; yet he could not refuse to assist an industrious and honest young man, who was in danger of losing the earnings of several years' close attention to business, should he refuse to lend his assistance as a lawyer. He therefore did what his sense of justice and duty demanded, though he pitied his inconsiderate friend; and he immediately wrote him, informing him of what was done,—and inclosing (which he knew must be a gift) a draft for the money of which Mr. North had requested the loan. He concluded his letter, by urging his friend's instant return to L——, if it were yet possible to give his affairs a favorable turn.
Three days after this, all property that could be found, belonging to Mr. North, was seized by his creditors.
"My dear Horace," said the greatly agitated Mrs. Lawrence, "what will Alpheus and Anna do?—whatcanthey do?"
"They must begin the world again, upon better principles," said Mr. Lawrence. "I hope they will learn wisdom from experience."
"But what can we do for them, my dear husband? You will receive them here when they arrive? Anna will feel so wretchedly!"
"For a day or two, certainly, if you wish it, my love."
"And for no longer? The contrast will be so striking, they will be overwhelmed! We must afford them all the assistance and consolation in our power?"
"Certainly!—but let us assist them in a rational way. They must feel the blow, and its consequences. We could do nothing to prevent it, short of utter ruin to ourselves. And it is necessary they should feel out; for nothing less could prove a cure for their folly. They must taste the bitter fruits of their extravagance. They must learn to live within their income, however small; and practise the self-denial that poverty demands. They must learn to be industrious, and support themselves by their own exertions."
"Poor Alpheus!—poor Anna!" ejaculated Mrs. Lawrence.
"If Alpheus had possessed either common firmness, or common prudence," said Mr. Lawrence, "or would Anna have listened to the admonitions, or followed the example of the best and kindest of friends, your sympathies would never have been thus called upon."
"O, make no comparisons,—it would be unjust," said Mrs. Lawrence. "Anna was never blessed with the instructions of such a father, or the example of such a mother as mine."
"True—and let us hope that this event will only prove a 'blessing in disguise,' to teach her what she would learn in no other way. Let us hope it will be for the best."
"O, may it prove so indeed!" said Mrs. Lawrence. "May the misguided and unfortunate Anna learn, that to be afashionable woman, is not the way to be either respectable, or useful, or happy."