good nature. I never saw such men before: and here in the mountains, out of the sphere of those artificial distinctions which level in some measure all physical disparities, I could not help feeling a sort of qualm of inferiority. In the crowded city, and amid the conflicts of civilized society, the mind predominates; but here my business was to cut down trees and remove rocks, and the man best qualified for these was the great man for my money. After seeing these "boys," I did not so much wonder at the miracles they had achieved. The whole farm, in fact, exhibited proofs of the wonders which may be wrought by a few strong arms, animated and impelled by as many stout hearts. My good sir, I am neither a giant myself, nor have I any sons that are giants." Well, well," said he, "I will tell you what was partly my reason-v -what was partly my reason for asking you over to see me. My youngest boy-step out, Ahasuerus-my youngest boy is just married, and as our hive is pretty full, it is necessary that he should swarm out with his wife, who is a good, hearty, industrious girl, that will be excellent help for your old woman. You can't get on at first without some hard work, and you will not be able to work yourself for some time very hard; you will want such a boy as mine to break the way a little smooth for you.' I caught at the proposal instantly: we were not long in coming to terms, and in three days the new married couple, the boy and the girl, were established at my house. She don't know anything about housekeeping," said my old woman. "You shall teach her," said I, and she went about her work perfectly content. "He is a mere boy," quoth my old man, "what can he know of farming?" "He will learn it of you," said I, and the old man felt as proud as a peacock. My Polyphemus with two eyes set to work without delay under the direction of my old man, who talked a great deal, and did nothing; and who, after having given his opinion, was content to follow that of the other. I was busy, too, looking on, running about, doing little or nothing; but taking an interest, and sympathizing with the lusty labours of the young giant Ahasuerus to such a degree that I have often actually fallen into a violent perspiration at seeing him raise a large stone. Thus I got a great deal of the benefit of hard work without actually fatiguing myself. By degrees I came to work a little myself; and when I did not work, I gave my advice, and saw the others work. One day-it was the crisis of my life-one day Ahasuerus and the old man were attempting to raise a rock out of the ground by means of a lever, but their weight was not sufficient. They tried several times, but in vain; whereat the spirit came upon me, and, seizing the far end of the lever, I hung upon it with all my might, kicking most manfully all the while. The rock yielded to our united exertions, and rolled out of the ground. It was my victory. "We should not have got it out without you," said Ahasuerus. "It was all your doing," quoth the old man. But, to tell you the honest truth, I quaked in the midst of my triumph, lest this unheardof exertion might have injured a blood-vessel, or strained some of the vital parts. That night I thought, somehow or other, I felt rather faintish and languid. But it may be I was only a little sleepy; for I fell asleep in five minutes, and did not wake till sunrise. It was some time before I could persuade myself I was quite well; but being unable fairly to detect anything to the contrary, I arose and walked forth into the freshness of the morning, and my spirit laughed in concert with the sprightly insects and chirping birds. After this I became bolder and bolder, until finally, animated by the example of the great Ahasuerus, I one day laid hold of a rock and rolled it fairly out of its bed. I was astonished at this feat; I had no idea that I could make the least exertion, without suffering for it severely in some way or other. I never could do it before, and what is the reason I can do it now? thought I; I certainly used to feel very faint, on occasion of sometimes drawing a hard cork out of a bottle. My new monitor, experience, whispered me that this was nothing but apprehension, which, when it becomes a habit, and gains a certain mastery over the mind, produces a sensation allied to faintness. It embarrasses the pulsation, and that occasions a feeling of swooning. The mental causes the physical sensation. I was never so happy in my whole life as when I received this lesson of experience. I was no longer afraid of dying off-hand of the exertion of drawing a cork. Thus we went on during the summer. The salt pork relished wonderfully; the bread and milk became a delicious dessert; and the rocks daily vanished from the meadow, like magic. Winter came, and having a vast forest of wood, some of which was decaying, and the remainder had reached its full maturity, I determined to have it cut down and sold to pay my debt to the old Scotsman. With the assistance of one or two others Ahasuerus performed wonders in the woods, as he had done among the rocks. I forget how many loads he sent to market, but it produced enough to pay my old friend, and then I stood upon the proudest eminence an unambitious man can attain-I owed no man a penny, and I could live without running in debt. This is a great and solid happiness, not sufficiently appreciated at this time. People who know no better are apt to think that winter in the country is one long series of dead uniformity, and that there is no enjoyment away from the fireside. But they are widely mistaken; nature everywhere presents a succession of varieties, and those of winter are not the least beautiful. Thus passed my first winter. In the spring I paid my debt to Hardup with the product of my wood. In the summer he came to see ine. "I would not come before, for fear you would think it was to dun you,” said he. He has repeated his visit every summer for the last seven years, and assures me every time, that were he not Hardup he would be Ambler. It would be tedious to detail the progress I made, and the wonders achieved by Ahasuerus, from the period in which I first took possession of my estate to that in which I am now writing. Great as they were, they bear no comparison with those I have undergone. My farm is now a little Eden among the high hills, whose rugged aspects only add richness and beauty to the cultivated fields. I have saved enough to add two wings to my old house, and to put it in good repair, besides building a barn and other out-houses. Every year I execute some little improvements, just to keep up the excitement of novelty, and prevent me from thinking too much of myself. Every fair day in spring, summer, and autumn, it is my custom to climb a part of the mountain, which overlooks my little domain, and affords a full view of its green or golden inclosures. It lies at the head of a long narrow vale, skirted on either side by rough, rocky, steep mountains, clothed with vast forests of every I did not spend my winter idly, but went out every day to see my wood-cutters. In order to give some interest to my walks, I purchased a gun, procured a brace of fox-hounds, and in time became a mighty hunter. No man of sentiment has ever heard the "deepmouthed hound," saluting the clear frosty morning with sonorous and far-sounding challenges, without feeling its inspiration, in the silence of the mountains. I found their society, and that of my gun, delightful, though truth obliges me to confess, that I seldom got anything but exercise and a keen appetite in my sporting rambles. Almost the first extensive excursion I made, being intent on follow-growth. My house is on a little round knoll, ing the hounds, I unluckily fell through the ice into a small pond, which the melting of the first snows had formed into a little valley. I got completely wet from head to foot and I was some miles from home. The whole way I suffered the horrible anticipation of diseases without number-rheumatism, consumption, catarrh, sore throat, inflammation of the chest, and a hundred others. In short, I gave myself up for gone; and was in such a hurry to get home and settle my affairs, that I arrived there in a perfect glow. I lost no time in changing my dress, and it being now evening, went directly to bed, expecting next morning to find myself as stiff as a poker. At first I fell into a profuse perspiration, and then into a sound sleep, which lasted till morning. I can hardly believe it myself at this moment; I awoke as well as ever I was in my life, and never felt any ill effects from my accident. After this I defied the whole college of physicians, nay, all the colleges put together. I considered myself another Achilles, invulnerable even at the heel, and now cared no more for the weather than a grizzly bear, or a seeker of the northwest passage. just on the edge of the meadow I spoke of at my first arrival here, and which now has not a single stone above its surface. The clear spring brook which meanders through it, and is full of trout, forms the head of a little river, which, gathering as it proceeds onward the tribute of the hills, waxes larger as it goes, and appears, at different points far down the valley, coursing its bright way to the Hudson. On either side of the valley, among rocks and woods, is sometimes seen a cultivated field or two, with a house, and a few cattle; but, with this exception, there is a perfect and beautiful contrast between the bosom and the sides of the valley. The former is all softness, verdure, and fertility, the latter is stately forests, or naked sublimity. In a clear day, and a northwest wind, I can see the junction of the little stream, of which, as being the proprietor of its parent spring, I consider myself the father, with the majestic Hudson. I wish the reader, that is, if he is a clever man, or what is still better, a clever and pretty lady, would come and see my farm next summer. Were mankind aware of the total inability of wealth to confer content, or to make ease and leisure delightful, they would perchance | My confidential servant, Baynes, is gone out seek it with less avidity, and fewer sacrifices for the day and night; and I do not like to of that integrity which is a far more essential trust my new footman, of whom I know nothing, ingredient in human happiness than the gold to put this letter in the post-office, as it contains for which it is so often sacrificed. My history a fifty-pound note." may afford a useful example to those whose situations entail on them the necessity of labour and economy, by teaching them the impossibility of reconciling a life of luxury and ease with the enjoyment of jocund spirits, lusty health, and rational happiness. SAY, SWEET CAROL! WHO ARE THEY? BY JOANNA BAILLIE. Say, sweet Carol! who are they And the meek maid, who binds her yellow hair, Say, sweet Carol! who are they But most of all, the maid of cheerful soul, THE BANK NOTE. BY MRS. AMELIA OPIE.1 "Are you returning immediately to Worcester?" said Lady Leslie, a widow residing near that city, to a young officer who was paying her a morning visit. "I am; can I do anything for you there?" "Yes; you can do me a great kindness. 1 From Illustrations of Lying in all its Branches. "Indeed! that is a large sum to trust to the post.' "Yes; but I am told it is the safest conveyance. It is, however, quite necessary that a person whom I can trust should put the letter in the box." "Certainly," replied Captain Freeland. Then, with an air that showed he considered himself as a person to be trusted, he deposited the letter in safety in his pocket-book, and took leave; promising he would return to dinner the next day, which was Saturday. On his road Freeland met some of his brother-officers, who were going to pass the day and night at Great Malvern; and as they earnestly pressed him to accompany them, he wholly forgot the letter intrusted to his care; and, having despatched his servant to Worcester for his sac de nuit2 and other things, he turned back with his companions, and passed the rest of the day in that sauntering but amusing idleness, that dolce far niente3 which may be reckoned comparatively virtuous, if it leads to the forgetfulness of little duties only, and is not attended by the positive infringement of greater ones. But in not putting this important letter into the post, as he had engaged to do, Freeland violated a real duty; and he might have put it in at Malvern, had not the rencounter with his brother-officers banished the commission given him entirely from his thoughts. Nor did he remember it till, as they rode through the village the next morning on their way to Worcester, they met Lady Leslie walking in the road. At sight of her Freeland recollected, with shame and confusion, that he had not fulfilled the charge committed to him; and fain would | he have passed her unobserved; for, as she was a woman of high fashion, great talents, and some severity, he was afraid that his negligence, if avowed, would not only cause him to forfeit her favour, but expose him to her powerful "Certainly," replied Freeland, hastily, and in the hurry of the moment, "certainly. How could you, dear madam, doubt my obedience to your commands?" though I own it would be a comfort to me to send him, for fear of accident, I could not get him back again soon enough; therefore, I must let things take their chance; and, as letters "Thank you! thank you!” cried she, "How seldom miscarry, the only danger is that the you have relieved my mind!" note may be taken out.' He had so; but he had painfully burdened his own. To be sure, it was only a white lie -the lie of fear. Still he was not used to utter falsehood: and he felt the meanness and degradation of this. He had yet to learn that it was mischievous also, and that none can presume to say where the consequences of the most apparently trivial lie will end. As soon as Freeland parted with Lady Leslie, he bade his friends farewell, and, putting spur to his horse, scarcely slackened his pace till he had reached a general post-office, and deposited the letter in safety. "Now then," thought he, "I hope I shall be able to return and dine with Lady Leslie, without shrinking from her penetrating eye.' He found her, when he arrived, very pensive and absent; so much so, that she felt it necessary to apologize to her guests, informing them that Mary Benson, an old servant of hers, who was very dear to her, was seriously ill, and painfully circumstanced; and that she feared she had not done her duty by her. "To tell you the truth, Captain Freeland," said she, speaking to him in a low voice, "I blame myself for not having sent for my confidential servant, who was not very far off, and despatched him with the money, instead of trusting it to the post." "It would have been better to have done 80, certainly!" replied Freeland, deeply blushing. "Yes; for the poor woman, to whom I sent it, is not only herself on the point of being confined, but she has a sick husband, unable to be moved; and as, but owing to no fault of his, he is on the point of bankruptcy, his cruel landlord has declared that, if they do not pay their rent by to-morrow, he will turn them out into the street, and seize the very bed they lie on! However, as you put the letter into the post yesterday, they must get the fifty pound note to-day, else they could not; for there is no delivery of letters in London on a Sunday, you know." "True, very true," replied Freeland, in a tone which he vainly tried to render steady. "Therefore," continued Lady Leslie, "if you had told me when we met that the letter was not gone, I should have recalled Baynes, and sent him off by the mail to London; and then he would have reached Somerstown, where the Bensons live, in good time;-but now, She might have talked an hour without answer or interruption, for Freeland was too much shocked, too much conscience-stricken to reply; as he found that he had not only told a falsehood, but that, if he had had moral courage enough to tell the truth, the mischievous negligence of which he had been guilty could have been repaired; but now, as Lady Leslie said, it was too late! But while Lady Leslie became talkative, and able to perform her duties to her friends after she had thus unburdened her mind to Freeland, he grew every minute more absent and more taciturn: and, though he could not eat with appetite, he threw down, rather than drank, repeated glasses of hock and champagne, to enable him to rally his spirits; but in vain. A naturally ingenuous and generous nature cannot shake off the first compunctious visitings of conscience for having committed an unworthy action, and having also been the means of injury to another. All on a sudden, however, his countenance brightened: and as soon as the ladies left the table he started up, left his compliments and excuses with Lady Leslie's nephew, who presided at dinner, said he had a pressing call to Worcester; and, when there, as the London mail was gone, he threw himself into a post-chaise, and set off for Somerstown, which Lady Leslie had named as the residence of Mary Benson. "At least," said Freeland to himself with a lightened heart, "I shall now have the satisfaction of doing all I can to repair my fault." But, owing to the delay occasioned by want of horses and by finding the ostlers at the inns in bed, he did not reach London and the place of his destination till the wretched family had been dislodged; while the unhappy wife was weeping, not only over the disgrace of being so removed, and for her own and her husband's increased illness in consequence of it, but from the agonizing suspicion that the mistress and friend, whom she had so long loved and relied upon, had disregarded the tale of her sorrows, and had refused to relieve her necessities! Freeland soon found a conductor to the mean lodging in which the Bensons had obtained shelter; for they were well known, and their hard fate was generally pitied. But it was some time before he could speak, as he stood by their bedside-he was choked with painful emotion at first, with pleasing emotions after- | when I go away, may I have the comfort of wards for his conscience smote him for the knowing that your removal has done you no pain he had occasioned, and applauded him harm!" for the pleasure which he came to bestow. "I come," said he at length, while the sufferers waited in almost angry wonder to hear his reason for thus intruding on them, "I come to tell you, from your kind friend Lady Leslie" "Then she has not forgotten me!" screamed out the poor woman, almost gasping for breath. "No, to be sure not:-she could not forget you; she was incapable. . . ." here his voice wholly failed him. "Thank Heaven!" cried she, tears trickling down her pale cheek. "I can bear anything now; for that was the bitterest part of all!" 'My good woman," said Freeland, "it was owing to a mistake:—pshaw! no, it was owing to my fault, that you did not receive a fifty pound note by the post yesterday." "Fifty pounds!" cried the poor man, wringing his hands, "why, that would have more than paid all we owed; and I could have gone on with my business, and our lives would not have been risked, nor our character disgraced!" Freeland now turned away, unable to say a word more; but, recovering himself, he again drew near them, and, throwing his purse to the agitated speaker, said, "There! get well! only get well! and whatever you want shall be yours! or I shall never lose this horrible choking again while I live!" Freeland took a walk after this scene, and with hasty, rapid strides, the painful choking being his companion very often during the course of it, for he was haunted by the image of those whom he had disgraced; and he could not help remembering that, however blamable his negligence might be, it was nothing, either in sinfulness or mischief, to the lie told to conceal it, and that, but for that lie of fear, the effects of his negligence might have been repaired in time. But he was resolved that he would not leave Somerstown till he had seen these poor people settled in a good lodging. He therefore hired a conveyance for them, and superintended their removal that evening to apartments full of every necessary comfort. "My good friends," said he, "I cannot recall the mortification and disgrace which yor have endured through my fault; but I trust that you will have gained in the end, by leaving a cruel landlord who had no pity for your unmerited poverty.-Lady Leslie's note will, I trust, reach you to-morrow;-but if not, I will make up the loss; therefore be easy, and He then, but not till then, had courage to write to Lady Leslie and tell her the whole truth, concluding his letter thus: "If your interesting proteges have not suf fered in their health, I shall not regret what has happened, because I trust that it will be a lesson to me through life, and teach me never to tell even the most apparently trivial white lie again. How unimportant this violation of truth appeared to me at the moment! and how sufficiently motived! as it was to avoid falling in your estimation; but it was, you see, overruled for evil;-and agony of mind, disgrace, and perhaps risk of life, were the conse quences of it to innocent individuals, not to mention my own pangs-the pangs of an upbraiding conscience. But forgive me, my dear Lady Leslie. Now, however, I trust that this evil, so deeply repented of, will be blessed to us all; but it will be long before I forgive myself." Lady Leslie was delighted with this candid letter, though grieved by its painful details, while she viewed with approbation the amends which her young friend had made, and his modest disregard of his own exertions. The note arrived in safety; and Freeland left the afflicted couple better in health, and quite happy in mind, as his bounty and Lady Leslie's had left them nothing to desire in a pecuniary point of view. When Lady Leslie and he met, she praised his virtue, while she blamed his fault; and they fortified each other in the wise and moral resolution, never to violate truth again, even on the slightest occasion; as a lie, when told, however unimportant it may at the time appear, is like an arrow shot over a house, whose course is unseen, and may be unintentionally the cause to some one of agony or death. |