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She clasped her fervent hands,

LETTER TO THE UNKNOWN PURCHASER And the tears began to stream;

AND NEXT OCCUPANT OF GLENMARY. Large and bitter, and fast they fell,

Remorse was so extreme :
And yet, oh yet, that many a Dame,

Sir : In selling you the dew and sunshine orr'ainWould dream the Lady's Dream!

ed to fall hereafter on this bright spot of earth, the waters on their way to this sparkling brook-the tints mixed for the flowers of that enamelled mea

dow, and the songs bidden to be sung in coming MOUNTAIN CHILDREN.

summers by the feathery builders in Glenmary, I know not whether to wonder more at the omnipo

tence of money, or at my own impertinent audacity Dwellers by lake and hill!

toward Nature. How you can buy the right to exMerry companions of the bird and bee!

clude at will every other creature made in God's imGo gladly forth and drink of joy your fill, age from sitting by this brook, treading on that carWith unconstrained step and spirit free!

pet of flowers, or lying listening to the birds in the

shade of these glorious trees-how I can sell it you, No crowd impedes your way ;

is a mystery not understood by the Indian, and dark, No city wall proscribes your further bounds ; I must say, to me.

Where the wild flock can wander, 'e may stray, - Lord of the soil,” is a title which conveys your The long day through, 'mid summer sights and privileges but poorly. You are master of waters sounds.

flowing at this moment, perhaps, in a river of Judea, The sunshine and the flowers,

or floating in clouds over some spicy island of the

tropics, bound hither after many changes. There And the old trees that cast a solemn shade; The pleasant evening, the fresh dewy hours,

are lilies and violets ordered for you in millions, And the green hills whereon your fathers play'd ;

acres of sunshine in daily instalments, and dew

nightly in proportion. There are throats to be The grey and ancient peaks,

tuned with song, and wings to be painted with red Round which the silent clouds hang day and night; and gold, blue and yellow; thousands of them, and And the low voice of water, as it makes,

all tributaries to you. Your corn is ordered to be Like a glad creature, murmurings of delight, - sheathed in silk, and listed high to the sun. Your

grain is to be duly bearded and stemmed. There is These are your joys ! go forth, –

perfume distilling for your clover, and juices for your Give your hearts up unto their mighty power;

grasses and fruits. Ice will be here for your wine, For in His spirit God has clothed the earth,

shade for your refreshment at noon, breezes and And speaketh solemnly from tree and flower. showers and snow-fakes; all in their season, and The voice of hidden rills,

all.deeded to you for forty dollars the acre !” Gods! Its quiet way into your spirit finds ;

what a copyhold of property for a fallen world! And awfully the everlasting hills

Mine has been but a short lease of this lovely and Address you in their many-toned winds.

well endowed domain (the duration of a smile of

fortune, five years, scarce longer than a five act Ye sit upon the earth,

play); but as in a play we sometimes live through a Twining its flowers, and shouting, full of glee ; life, it seems to me that I have lived a life at Glenma.

And a pure mighty influence, ʼmid your mirth, ry. Allow me this, and then you must allow me the Moulds your unconscious spirit silently.

privilege of those who, at the close of life, leave some.

thing behind them : that of writing out my will. Hence is it that the lands

Though I depart this life, I would sain, like others, Of storm and mountain have the noblest sons; Whom the world reverence, the patriot bands

extend my ghostly hand into the future; and if wings

are to be borrowed or stolen where I go, you may Were of the hills like you, ye little ones!

rely on my hovering around and haunting you, in vi. Children of pleasant song

sitations not restricted by cock-crowing. dre taught within the mountain solitudes;

Trying to look at Glenmary through your eyes, For hoary legends to your wilds belong,

sir, I see too plainly that I have not shaped my And yours are haunts where inspiration broods. ways as if expecting a successor in my lifetime. I

did not, I am free to own. I thought to have shufThen go forth; earth and sky

fled off my mortal coil tranquilly here ; flitting at To you are tributary ; joys are spread

last in company with some troop of my autumn Profusely like the summer flowers that lie

leaves, or some bevy of spring blossoms, or with In the green path beneath your gamesome tread ! snow in the thaw; my tenants at my back, as a

landlord may say. I have counted on a life-interest | male eye, and, with the trimness of his shape, has in the trees, trimming them accordingly; and in the departed much of that measured alacrity which first squirrels and birds, encouraging them to chatter and won our regard. He presumes a little on your al. build and fear nothing; no guns permitted on the lowance for old age ; and with this pardonable premises. I have had my will of this beautiful weakness growing upon him, it seems but right that stream. I have carved the woods into a shape of his position and standing should be tenderly made my liking. I have propagated the despised sumach known to any new.comer on the premises. In the and the persecuted hemlock and "pizen laurel.” And cutting of the next grass, slice me not up my fat " no end to the weeds dug up and set out again,” friend, sir ! nor set your cane down heedlessly in as one of my neighbours delivers himself. I have his modest domain. He is "mine ancient,” and I built a bridge over Glenmary brook, which the town would fain do him a good turn with you. looks to have kept up by " the place,” and we have

For my spoilt family of squirrels, sir, I crave plied free ferry over the river, I and my man Tom, nothing but immunity from powder and shot. They till the neighbours, from the daily saving of the require coaxing to come on the same side of the tree two miles round, have got the trick of it. And be with you, and though saucy to me, I observe that twixt the aforesaid Glenmary brook and a certain they commence acquaintance invariably with a safe muddy and plebeian gutter formerly permitted to mistrust. One or two of them have suffered, it is join cuinpany with, and pollute it, I have procured a true, from too hasty a confidence in my greyhound divorce at much trouble and pains, a guardian duty Maida, but the beauty of that gay fellow was a trap entailed of course on my successor.

against which nature had furnished them with no First of ail, sir, let me plead for the old trees of warning instinct! (A fact, sir, which would prettiGlenmary! Ah! those friendly old trees! The cot- ly point a moral!) The large hickory on the edge tage stands belted in with them, a thousand visible of the lawn, and the black walnut over the shoulder from the door, and of stems and branches worthy of of the flower garden, have been, through my dynas. the great valley of the Susquehannah. for how ty, sanctuaries in violate for squirrels. I pray you, much music played without thanks am I indebted to sir, let them not be « reformed out” under your adthose leaf-organs of changing tone? for how many ministration. whisperings of thought, breathed like oracles into

Of our feathered connexions and friends, we are my ear ? for how many new shapes of beauty most bound to a pair of Phebe-birds and a merry moulded in the leaves by the wind ? for how much Bob o'-Lincoln, the first occupying the top of the companionship, solace, and welcome ? Steadfast and constant is the countenance of such friends; God young maple near the door of the cottage, and the be praised for their staid welcome and sweet fidelity! der bushes in the meadow, though in common with

latter executing his bravuras upon the clump of al. If I love them better than some things human, it is no fault of ambitiousness in the trees. They stand many a gay.plumaged gallant like himself, his

whereabout after dark a dark mystery. He comes where they did. But in recoiling from mankind, one may find them the next kindliest things, and be every year from his rice-plantation in Florida to glad of dumb friendship. Spare those old trees, from percussion-caps, and let no urchin with a long

pass the summer at Glenmary. Pray keep him safe gentle sir !

In the smooth walk which encircles the meadow pole poke down our trusting Phebes; annuals in that betwixt that solitary Olympian sugar-maple and the same tree for three summers. There are hummingmargin of the river, dwells a portly and venerable birds, too, whom we have complimented and looked toad; who (if I may venture to bequeath you my morning to morning. And there is a golden oriole

sweet upon, but they can not be identified from friends) must be commended to your kindly consid: who sings through May on a dog wood tree by the eration. Though a squatter, he was noticed in our first rambles along the stream, five years since, for his brook side, but he has fought shy of our crumbs and ready civility in yielding the way; not hurriedly, coaxing, and let him go ! We are mates for his bet.

ters, with all his gold livery! With these reserva. however, nor with an obsequiousness unbecoming a

tions, sir, I commend the birds to your friendship republican, but deliberately and just enough; sitting

and kind keeping. quietly on the grass till our passing by gave him room again on the warm and trodden ground. Punctu.

And now sir, I have nothing else to ask, save only ally after the April cleansing of the walk, your watchfulness over the small nook reserved from this jewelled habitue, from his indifferent lodgings this purchase of seclusion and loveliness. In the near by, emerges to take his pleasure in the sun ; shady depths of the small glen above you, among the and there, at any time when a gentleman is likely to wild flowers and music, the music of the brook bab. be abroad, you may find him, patient on his os coccy-bling over rocky steps, is a spot sacred to love and gis, or vaulting to his asylam of long grass. This memory. Keep it inviolate, and as much of the year, he shows, I am grieved to remark, an ominous happiness of Glenmary as we can leave behind, stay obesity, likely to render him obnoxious to the fe

with you for recompense !


very wish


Stranger. Why judge you, then,

So harshly of the dead? Stranger. Whom are they ushering from the Townsman. For what he left world, with all

Indone,- for sins not one of which is mention d This pageantry and long parade of death?

In the tenth commandments. He, I warrant him, Townsman. A long parade, indeed, sir; and yet here Believed no other gods than those of the creed. You see but half; round yonder bend it reaches

Bowed to no idols--but his money-bags : A furlong farther, carriage behind carriage.

Swore no false oaths, except åtte custom house; Stranger. It is but a mournful sight, and yet the lo honour his dead father ; did no murder;

Kept the sabbath idle; built a monument pomp

Never pick'd pockets; never bore false witness; Tempts me to stand a gazer.

And never, wi h that all-commanding wealth, Townsman. Yonder schoolboy,

Coveted his neighbour's house, nor ox, nor ass. Who plays the truant, says, the proclamation

Stranger. You knew him, then, it seems.
Of peace was nothing to the show; and even
The chairing of the members at election

Tounsmun. As all men know
Would not have been a finer sight than this,

The virtues of your hundred-thousanders; Only that red and green are prettier colours

They never hide their lights beneath a bushel. Than all this mourning. There, sir, you behold Stranger. Nay, nay, nincharitable sir' for often One of the red gown'd worthies of the city, Doth bounty like a streamlet flow unseen, The envy and boast of our exchange,

Fresh'ning and giving life along its source. Ay, who was worth, last week, a good half million, Tomnsman. We track the streamlet by the brigher Screw'd down in yonder hearse.

green Stranger. Then he was born

And livelier growth it gives; but as for this Under a lucky planet, who to-day

The rains of heaven engender*d nothing in it Puts mourning on for his inheritance.

But slime and foul corruption. Townsman. When first I heard his death, that Stranger. Yet even these

Are reservoirs, whence public charity
Leap'd to my lips ; but now the closing scene

Still keeps her channels full.
Of the comedy has waken'd wiser thoughts ;
And I bless God, that when I go to the grave,

Townsman. Now, sir, you touch
There will not be the weight of wealth like his

Upon the point. This man of half a million To sink me down.

Had all these public virtues which you praise

But the poor man rung never at his door; Stranger. The camel and needle

And the old beggar, at the public gate, Is that, then, in your mind?

Who, all the summer long, stands hat in hand, Townsman. Even so. The text

He knew how vain it was to lift an eye Is gospel wisdom. I would ride the camel

To that hard face. Yet he was always sound Yea, leap him flying through the needle's eye,

Among your ten, and twenty pound subscribers, As easily as such a pamper'd soul

Your benefactors in the newspapers. Could pass the narrow gate.

His alms were money put to interest Stranger. Your pardon, sir,

In the other world, donations to keep open But sure this lack of Christian charity

A running.charity account with heaven; Looks not like Christian truth.

Retaining fees against the last assizes, Townsman. Your pardon, too, sir,

When, for the trusted talents, strict account If with this text before me, I should feel

Shall be required from all, and the old arch lawyer In the preaching mood! But for these barren fig trees, Plead his own cause as plaintiff. With all their flourish and their leafiness,

Síranger. I must needs We have been told their destiny and use,

Believe you, sir; these are your witnesses, When the axe is laid unto the root, and they

These mourners here, who from their carriages Cumber the earth no longer.

Gape at the gaping crowd. A good March wind Stranger. Was his wealth

Were to be prayed for now, to lend their eyes Stored fraudfully, the spoils of orphans wronged, Some decent rheum. The very hireling mute And widows who had none to plead their right? Bears not a face blanker of all emotion

Townsman. All honest, open, honourable gains, Than the old servant of the family! Fair legal interest, bonds and mortgages,

How can this man have lived, that thus his death Ships to the east and west.

Cost not the soiling of one handkerchief!

Townsman. Who should lament for him, sir, in

whose heart Love had no place, nor natural charity ? The parlour spaniel, when she heard his step, Rose slowly from the hearth and stole aside With creeping pace; she never raised her eyes To woo kind word from him, nor laid her head Upraised upon his knee, with fondling whine. How could it be but thus ? Arithmetic Was the sole science he was ever taught; The multiplication table was his creed, His paternoster and his decalogue. When yet he was a boy, and should have breathed The open air and sunshine of the fields, "ogive his blood its natural spring and play, He in a close and dusty counting house, Smoke-dried, and seared, and shrivelled up his heart. So from the way in which he was train’d up, His feet departed not; he toild and moild, Poor muckworm! through his threscore years and ten; And when the earth shall now be shovelled on him, If that which served him for a soul were still Within its husk, 'twould still be dirt to dirt.

Stranger. Yet your next newspaper will blazon him For industry and honourable wealth A bright example.

Townsman. Even half a million
Gets him no other praise. But come this way
Some twelvemonths hence, and you will find his

Trimly set forth in lapidary lines,
Faith with her torch beside, and little Cupids
Dropping upon the urn their marble tears.

I know his face is hid

Under the coffin lid;
Closed are his eyes; cold is vis forehead fair ;

My hand that marble felt ;

O’er it in prayer I knelt;
Yet my heart whispers that he is not there !

I cannot make him dead !

When passing by his bed,
So long watched over with parental care,

My spirit and my eye

Seek it inquiringly,
Before the thought comes that—he is not there

When at the cool, grey break

Of day from sleep I wake,
With my first breathing of the morning air,

My soul goes up with joy,

To Him who gave my boy ; Then comes the sad thought that-he is not there!

When at the day's calm close,

Before we seek repose,
I'm with his mother, offering up our prayer;

What'er I may be saying,

I am, in spirit, praying
For our boy's spirit, praying—he is not there!

Not there ?- Where, then, is he ?

The form I used to see
Was but the raim that he used to wear ;

The grave that now doth press

Upon that cast off dress,
Is but his wardrobe locked-he is not there!

He lives !-in all the past

He lives ! nor to the last,
Of seeing him again will I despair ;

In dreams I see him now ;

And on his angel brow,
I see it written, - Thou shalt see me there !

Yes, we all live to God!

Father, thy chastening rod
So help us, thine afflicted ones, to bear;

That in the spirit land,

Meeting at thy right hand, 'Twill be our heaven to find that, he is there!



I cannot make him dead !

His fair sunshiny head Is ever bounding round my study chair ;

Yet when my eyes, now dim

With tears, I turn to him, The vision vanishes-he is not there !



I walk my parlor floor,

And, through the open door,
I hear a footfall on the chamber stair ;

I'm stepping toward the hall,

To give the boy a call;
And then bethink me that, he is not there!

I thread the crowded street :

A satchel'd lad I meet With the same beaming eyes and colored hair ;

And, as he's running by,

Follow him with my eye, Scarcely believing that-he is not there!

A dewdrop falling on the wild sea wave,
Exclaimed in fear-6 I perish in this grave;"
But in a shell received, that drop of dew
Unto a pearl of marvellous beauty grew;
And, happy now, the grace did magnify
Which thrust it forth—as it had seared, to die;-
Until again, “ 1 perish quite,” it said,
Torn by rude diver from its ocean bed :
O unbelieving ! so it came to gleam
Chief jewel in a monarch's diadem.



to swathe me in wet sheets. Him, too, I drove from my presence, the lunatic.

Yet these are the men

who come here to swear to my insanity. Ah, genI was once called to decide upon the case of a per- tlemen, I am not mad, but I wonder that I am not. son who was thought by his friends to be insane. The combined powers have taken away my Bessy He had been sent to a mad-house, and in one of his and my little boy, and I shall never, never, never see lucid intervals had demanded a trial of the county

them more.

Never." judge, and a trial was granted. A jury of six men,

It was a perfectly clear case of lunacy, and a piti. of whom I was one, were to decide upon his case. able one. But when we retired to the jury-room, one He was a healthy looking gentleman, with nothing of the jurors would not agree with the other five. unusual in his appearance excepting a restlessness Ile stretched himself upon a bench, threw a handof his eyes, which might not have been observed had kerchief over his head, and requested us to wake him he not been accused of insanity. The proofs of his when we had come over to his way of thinking. madness were very clear, but he showed so much Tor myself, I was not disposed to be bullied out of coolness and clear thinki in his cross-questioning my opinion, so I too lay down upon a bench, deterof witnesses, that I felt some hesitation in pronounc mined not to yield an inch of my right to think for ing him unsound of mind. His case was a very sad myself, and in a few minutes fell fast asleep; but I one, and he melted the hearts of all who heard him had better have kept awake, for the moment that when he appealed to the jury.

my eyelids fell, I had to perform the part of a juror "I deny that I am insane, gentlemen,” he said, again. when the Judge gave him leave to speak, " but that It was the same ill-lighted room, the same dull is a matter of course. No man ever thought himself Judge who slept through half the trial, the same insane; neither can any man ever think himself so; clownish spectators, the same everything, except the for, having no standard of soundness but what exists defendant, who yet seemed to be the same person in in his own mind, he cannot be unsound to himself, a different habit. though he may be manifestly so in the mind of ano He was a good looking youth ; indeed, I have never ther. But who shall determine what is madness seen a finer ; his dark chesnut hair and sandy beard and what is not ? Be careful, gentlemen, how you were equal to a patent of nobility, for they proclaim. pronounce me mad, lest to-morrow I be called to pro ed his Saxon blood, and proved him of a race that nounce you so. The proofs that have been offered to came upon the earth to conquer it. His eyes were you of my madness, are to me proofs of entire sound-gray and his complexion fair. But, poor man! he ness of mind. I would be mad were I anything dif

was out of his mind. His father was a merchant, ferent from what I have been represented. They and he wept while he gave evidence to his son's inhave bronght three physicians, who all say that I sanity. He, the son, would wear his beard, and this am mad. Yet I will compel you to admit that the was the proof of his madness. In spite of the jeers, madness is in them and not in me. I was sick, very the sneers, and the laughter of the world, he would siek, sick at heart, for you must know that I had lost let his beard grow as nature intended. Poor fellow ! my Bessy and my little boy-my little boy.” Here We all pitied him. So intelligent, so gentle in his the unfortunate hesitated and seemed to lose him. manners, so happily circumstanced, and yet mad ! self entirely. “ I said that I was sick, but it was He had the hardihood to declare in open court, that Bessy. But it inust have been me. Yes, I was he saw no reason why he should deprive his face of sick, very sick, sick at heart, for my little boy and the covering which God had put upon it. Bessy. Bessy again. Yes, Bessy had been sick, but “ No reason," cried his mother, "10, my son, does now it was I. I was sick, and they brought me a not your father shave, your uncle. your brother, all physician. He felt my pulse, he looked upon me the world shave but yourself? No reason for shave with his cold gray eyes, and then reached me a ing? O! my son !" tumbler half full of a nauseous liquid, which he said " True," replied the unfortunate youth, as he would quiet me, and do me good. But all the while stroked his beard with ineffable content, "true, but I was quieter than a rock, and colder, and harder. I they are all mad or they would not. thought that he needed the stuff more than myself, beard to protect my face and throat from the wet and so I caught his head between my knees, and though cold. It helps to hide the sharp angles of my jaws, he struggled hard, yet I poured it down his throat, it makes me more comely, adds to my strength, and gentlemen, and he was glad enough to escape. Then keeps me in health. Do I not look more like a man they brought another to me, who gave me a little than my father, with his smooth, pale face, who has globule of sugar, a pin's head was a cannon ball be nothing but his clothes to distinguish him from a side it, and told me that it would cure my fever. Do woman? Look at him; he has scraped all the hair you blame me for thrusting the madman out of my off his chin, and placed another man's hair on his head. chamber? Then they brought me another, who Beautiful consistency. To shave his chin and put would give me no medicine at all, but ordered them false hair on his head ! What a mad outrage upon

I need my

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