ments mixed up with it, and by degrees the dregs may be separated.

sent, into all the perplexities and harassing anxieties of a merchant.

At the end of a few years I was in thri- Without having much of the resigned ving business with a house and office, had spirit of my friend, I had insensibly adopted sent for one of my brothers and made him his language. Once, when a crop of corn a country trader, and forwarded remittances was suddenly inundated by the rise of the to my family, for the general benefit. And river, I said to my wife, "we must bear it here let me note, in this new country, patiently, for we shall always be subject to amidst sand banks and barren pine woods, it. It is an inevitable evil." "We must I found a gentle little maiden, who was like bear it patiently this once," said she, “but a wild flower hid in the cleft of a rock. I it is our own fault if we are obliged to bear prevailed on her to become my household it again; we have only to raise the levee a blessing, and share my lot. At length I few feet higher, and the evil ceases to be found a powerful coadjutor in the process inevitable." There was a strange mixture

of civilization. A young clergyman came in her character of yielding and resistance ; among us, and gave notice that he would she was gentle and compassionate even to preach. They listened at first from the weakness, and yet often, when troubles and novelty of the thing, and soon a degree difficulties assailed us, she seemed to be of thoughtfulness ensued. The verse in lion-hearted. psalms which our preacher took for his first text seemed to be more and more verified: When I thought on my ways, I turned my feet unto thy testimonies."

66

One instance I must relate.

We had a black woman living with us who was a slave. She came with a child about two years old. As they were sitting on the edge of a small wharf that projected into the river, the child suddenly gave a spring from the mother's arms, and fell into the water. My wife was by: the mother screamed in agony but seemed to have no power of moving. My wife seized a pole near and measured the depth of the water, then exclaiming, "run for help," plunged in; it was not over her head: she supported the child above it, till the frantic cries of the woman reached me. "How could you peril your life?" said I, when I held her safe in my arms. "I did not," returned she, "I ascertained the depth of the water; God gives us self-possession and resolution,

I hardly know how I have been drawn into this outline of my own history; it was Lewis Gray's that I meant to have written, rather than my own. I constantly received letters from him. He wrote me that, like myself, he had found a partner for life, but here the parity ceased; for she brought him a large fortune, and mine only brought me a treasure of love and virtue. His union seemed to be a congenial one, but he lamented that they were obliged to live in a degree of style which was often tedious, he regretted the loss of time, the necessity of entertaining hosts of strangers, but added, with his usual philosophy, "all this I sub-if we will only use them." mit to, for it is inevitable, and console my- At length her own boy was taken ill, self with my professional pursuits, which and we had the inexpressible distress of become more and more interesting to me." seeing our first-born expire. My poor Soon after this, another letter came in- wife had watched through two nights, and forming me of the death of his father. when there was no longer hope, she sunk "By this event," he wrote, "I have come exhausted. She neither spoke nor moved into possession of a large estate and exten- for hours. I trembled for her intellect, and sive commercial connections. It seems imagined she was becoming a maniac. manifestly proper that I should take the "Speak to me, speak to me," I exclaimed, same station in life which my father filled, throwing myself by her side. Never shall and relinquish the practice of law. I can- I forget the light which irradiated her counnot express to you my regret at this inevi- tenance, as she replied, "I have been reatable necessity." How I admired the soning with myself, shall we receive good philosophy of my friend! I knew there at the hand of God, and not evil?'" was no affectation in his regret; a life of Some how or other, with the motto of calm, elegant retirement, with professional my friend constantly in my mouth, I found business enough to keep it from stagnating, I did not bear this calamity as well as she was what he had always desired. Yet here did. I endeavored to study out this mysteI beheld him plunged, without his own con-ry. At first, I tried to persuade myself that

women had not the same depth of feeling as men, that sorrow only glanced over the surface; but I was obliged to abandon this idea, when I saw how ingrained with every thought and action was her fervent sensibility. At last I began to realize that there was a different kind of submission from my friend Lewis Gray's. I seated myself at the feet of my young wife, and we became fellow-students. I did not renounce my law-books, but every day I became more interested in her study, which was the word of God.

How rapidly ten years pass! Our roof tree sheltered young minds and affectionate hearts; we were no longer childless; we had discovered that there were no evils which brought fatal consequences but vice. Our crops might be blighted and our cattle swamped; still we did not despair, but put in operation all our resolution to obviate the consequences, and we never failed of finding

new resources.

was vacant.

speak to the heart that is open to instruction.
I hastened to the city, for there was the
elegant mansion of my friend, which had
descended to him from his father.
He re-
ceived me with his wonted cordiality and
introduced me to his wife. I was much
struck with her noble appearance and could
not help contrasting it with my own wife's.
It seemed to me, however, just as it should
be; the little wild flower I had found in the
cleft of a rock was not to vie with the mag-
nificent crown imperial.

A few moments of intercourse let me in-
to the situation of my friend.
His igno-
rance of commercial affairs had led him in-
to various errors and losses, which he had
tried to retrieve by speculation. His own
fortune and his wife's were gone; and what
with mortgages and debts, there was no-
thing before him but penury in the course
of a few years. Yet he "thanked God
that he was able to submit with resignation
to these inevitable evils, and hoped he
should continue to preserve the same tem-
per of mind." My views had changed
since I saw him; perhaps he was surprised
that I did not give him my usual tribute of
admiration for his magnanimity. "Are
you quite sure," said I," that all these evils
have been inevitable in themselves?

Have

At the end of ten years I determined to visit once more my native home. I was induced the more to this step, from the air of gloom that pervaded the letters of my friend Lewis. He alluded to losses in the way of property, and at last said, inevitable ruin was impending over him. It was a joyous morning to my wife and children you not made them so? Was it actually when we embarked for our expedition. I necessary that you should enter into a line pass over the journey, and will not describe of business for which you were not qualithe meeting of near relations so long sepa-fied? When you perceived that you were rated; there were some absent from the becoming embarrassed in your affairs, was family group; one sister, that I left beauti- it necessary to persevere ? Was the sacriful as an angel, alas, she never realized the fice of your wife's property another inevifair promise of her youth, on earth. My table evil?" mother, too, my blessed mother! her seat Time had softened the grief of the family, but mine had all its freshness. The next morning I arose while the dew was yet on the grass, and sought the burial ground. To reach it through the fields I I had to cross the race-way of a mill. I remembered, when a child of five or six years old, how I had stood trembling and hesita- "And how are we to ascertain that any ting on the edge, doubtful whether to venture are inevitable," I replied, "till we have on the narrow plank. Now, with how used every exertion to counteract them? much ease I crossed it at a leap. It is these God does not leave the decision to us-there associations, simple and natural, that make is neither philosophy nor religion in taking the return to early scenes so touching. In it upon ourselves." how many different ways is the heart It required some entreaty to prevail on quickened! God does not leave the world Lewis to look into his own affairs and allow without witnesses of himself; place our- me to aid him. After much patient ivestiselves where we will, there are eloquent gation, I was convinced that, with energy preachers; animate and inanimate objects of action, a small part of his fortune might

"I am aware," said he, in his calm, quiet manner, "that things appear changed when we look back upon them. The rising and setting sun cast different shadows. We may possibly realize that evils which ap peared inevitable might have been avoided; evils, which at the time seemed only to admit of unqualified submission."

"One would think," said he, "that resignation and submission had no human origin."

Lewis at length. ceased to oppose; he permitted me to examine the state of his affairs, and consented to secure what remained to his wife and children. He has hired an office and has resumed the practice of the law.

be saved from the wreck. "You must live," said I," as others do, upon your own exertions, and then you will be able to redeem a small portion of your property." "You are half right," she replied with "The sum is beggary," he replied. "Such a smile, "they are of heavenly origin and beggary," said I, "would be comparative have little congeniality with human interwealth to me; it is more than I ever pos-pretation. Christian resignation, so far sessed, and yet I consider myself blest with from palsying the mind, nerves it to useful a competency." The next morning, in the exertion.' presence of his wife and my own, I renewed the conversation. I had begun to despair of my own efforts; a sort of monomania had seized him, and he constantly repeated "there is no help; we must submit to inevitable evils." "You are right," said my wife in an animated tone, "you have only to follow out your own system; you have submitted with wonderful equanimity to such evils as have come upon you, you must now submit to those that follow, you must submit to toil and privation. Now is the time to prove that your system was one of principle rather than temperament, one derived from purpose and resolution, rather than indolence.'

"Where were you educated?" said he, half laughing. "In a new settlement, in a log-house, where we had enough of what the world calls evils to struggle through. You must excuse my plain manner of speaking; I was taught no other."

"It was my wife," said I, "that first upset your theory: she persuaded me that resignation was an active principle, not a passive one. Indeed she has almost persuaded me that there are no evils."

66

Such is the present state of affairs; and in the three months that I have passed with him, evils which he considered inevitable no longer exist; but I cannot conceal from myself that his theory has had a palsying effect upon his mind. He has yet to learn that no one can be victorious who does not conduct as if there were no evils which cannot be obviated or mitigated.

Tomorrow we return to the Far West, to our home of comparative hardship. Most joyfully shall we resume our simple_occu pations and modes of life. We leave Lewis with wealth beyond what we possess, and only requiring industry and resolution to gain independence. But I feel discouraged when I reflect that he has yielded to the inevitable influence of other minds. man is true to himself who does not find in his own soul the great principles of virtuous purpose.

DELUSIONS OF THE YOUNG.

No

None," said she, "that we are to submit to, without striving to remove or mitigate. Old age and death are inevitable; but the good and wise will not call them evils, they belong to our present state of existence, and we take them as an inheri- Of all the lunacies and oversights afflictance. Vice, let it come in what form it ting human nature, none is more worthy of will, is indeed an evil, but not one which indulgence than the wilful self-delusion calls for submission but for vigorous resis-inducing two young persons, mutually

tance."

attached and unversed in the ways of the world, to fancy that difficulties disappear before the courage and patience of those who find in mutual affection a consolation for vulgar privations.

Vain are the sermons of experience; vain the examples cited for their enlightenment. "Unexampled is the love which places their position above all comparison. Their for titude defies misfortune; their reliance on each other supersedes all necessity for reliance on the world."

THE TOKEN.

And now, my tender orphan boy,
Sweet bud of hope, I see

My spice of life, my future joy,
My all, wrapped up in thee.

I fear to murmur in the ear

Of Him who willed the blow,
And sent the King of Terrors here

To lay thy father low.

I ask His aid my griefs to bear-
To say, "Thy will be done;"
That Heaven will still in pity spare
The widow's only son.

THE "Token and Atlantic Souvenir," for 1840, has been issued at Boston, and may soon be looked for upon the shelves of our western booksellers. For several years past, till the last, this annual had been depreciating in excellence. The number for 1839 contained several very fine contributions, and one or two good embellishments; and that for the coming holydays is said to be a still further improvement upon the volumes published two, three and four years back. The Token was once a creditable representative of the state of literature and the fine arts in this country, and we hope these recent improvements are indications that it is soon to be so again. The papers of the Atlantic cities contain a number of selec-are none of the contemporaries of this lady tions from the present volume. None of these remaining. We know but little of her exare very remarkable. The best that we have cept from this monument, and the faint and read, is a prose sketch from the author of the visionary sketches that become more and "Three Experiments of Living," and a few more indistinct, as they pass through sucverses, entitled "The Widow's Hope," by Miss cessive generations. After a panegyric on GOULD. Both of these we subjoin.-HESPERIAN. her virtues, this record follows:

THE WIDOW'S HOPE.

SLEEP on, my babe, and in thy dream
Thy father's face behold,
That love again may warmly beam
From eyes now dark and cold.
His wonted fond embrace to give,
To smile as once he smiled,
Again let all the father live,
To bless his orphan child.

Thy mother sits these heavy hours
To measure off with sighs;
And over Life's quick-withered flowers
To droop with streaming eyes.
For, ah, our waking dreams, how fast
Their dearest visions fade,

Or flee, and leave their glory cast
For ever into shade!

And still, the doating, stricken heart,
In every bleeding string

That grief has snapped or worn apart,
Finds yet wherewith to cling;
And yet whereon its hold to take
With stronger, double grasp,
Because of joys it held to break
Or melt within its clasp.

A blast has proved that in the sand
I based my fair, high tower:
Pale Death has laid his rending hand
On my new Eden bower!

ANCIENT REMINISCENCES.

IN King's Chapel, in Tremont street, Boston, is a monument to the memory of Frances Shirley, wife of Governor Shirley. There

"Near this excellent mother, lie the mortal remains of her second daughter, Frances Bullen, late wife of William Bullen, Esq., the King's Advocate in the Vice-Admiralty Court of the province of Massachusetts, whose virtue and great beauty, prudence, piety, cultivated understanding, and gentle manners, were the delight of all while she lived.

"The too brief space of her life was passed ere she had attained her twenty-fourth year, and she died on the twelfth of March, 1744, deeply lamented by her husband, parents, and friends."

It is truly said we live a second time in our children. Of the daughter of this lady and granddaughter of Governor Shirley, Frances Shirley Bollen, there is much known that is interesting. A friend of her's is still living at an advanced age.

Her mother died while she was very young, and her father, being appointed agent for Massachusetts to the court of St. James, went to England, and left her to be educated in this country. The property which she was to inherit made it proper to appoint guardians of distinguished respectability. These were Judge Trowbridge, Judge Russel, and her uncle, Mr. Temple.

With Judge Trowbridge, at Cambridge, she principally resided. Her wealth and beauty attracted admirers at an early age;

but it was well understood, that her father a visit to his mother, while Frances was was averse to her forming any matrimonial staying with her. Mrs. Western immediconnection in America, and that he looked ately made arrangements to restore the forward to her making a splendid alliance in young lady to her father's residence the England. next day, knowing his extreme anxiety on the subject.

The early part of her life was passed in innocent gayety, unclouded by thought of the future. She formed those associations with friends of her own sex, to which the youthful mind so naturally turns, and felt as if her world of happiness existed on this side of the Atlantic. At the age of eighteen, she received a summon from her father to come to him; and, with deep sensibility, she parted from Mrs. Trowbridge, who had supplied to her the place of her own mother. There was no mother to welcome her to the strange land to which she was going; of her father she had but a slight remembrance; and, if friends were in store, they must be She made a thousand promises to write constantly; and said, "that to lay open her whole heart" to those she had left behind" would be her greatest solace."

new ones.

Soon after her arrival in England, letters came; but they were not the transcripts of her warm and affectionate heart; it was evident to her friends, that they were written in a depressed and constrained manner. At length, all correspondence ceased, and they heard of her only by report. It was soon understood, that her father did not wish her to continue her intercourse with her American friends, and was continually haunted by fears that she might defeat his ambitious projects by forming some alliance beneath her. This led him to keep a constant guard upon her movements, and to prohibit her from general society. One solace, however, he allowed her, and that was the privilege of passing a few days with Mrs. Western, a female friend of great respectability and influence. This lady became fondly attached to Frances, who acquired, from her elegant and cultivated manners, a polish that she could not have gained in her father's family.

The breakfast hour, with her, was one of cheerful meeting. She took her seat as usual at the table, and, after waiting some time in vain for the appearance of her guest, sent a summons to her room. The messenger returned with the intelligence, that she was not there, and that the room did not appear to have been occupied during the night. She sent to her son's room; the young student was not to be found; the truth flashed upon her mind,—they had eloped together! Nothing remained but to send a despatch to the father, acquainting him with her suspicions.

He lost no time in repairing to her mansion, and loaded her with reproaches. His accusations were violent and unfounded, and he more than hinted, that she was accessory to the elopement. Mrs. Western preserved a calm aird dignified deportment, and replied, "that the measure was as unpleasant to herself as to him; that her son had not yet finished his education, and a matrimonial connection might prove a blight to his future prospects and exertions." also observed, "he was not of age, and could not, for some time, come into possession of his own property, That, as now the thing was irremediable, they had better submit to it with magnanimity."

She

Necessity is a never-failing counsellor. The father contented himself with solemnly protesting he never would forgive, or see, his daughter. Mrs. Western, on the contrary, received the young couple with gentleness when they returned, which they did after a few days' absence, and endeavored, by maternal counsel, to obviate the evils of this rash and disobedient step.

Years passed on, and they had several children. Though the father still adhered to his determination of not forgiving his daughter, in the tenderness of her husband and his mother, and surrounded by blooming and healthy children, her life was tran quil and happy.

Mrs. Western resided a few miles from the city, and it was happiness to her young friend to quit its noise and dust and enjoy those scenes in the country, that reminded her of her early walks in Cambridge, and the winding course of Charles river. Mrs. Some months after the birth of the young. Western had sons, but they were absent est child, Mr. and Mrs. Western set out on from home, and the father's apprehensions, a journey, taking the infant with them. At with regard to them, seem not to have been an inn, where they stopped, Mr. Western awakened. One of them returned home on got out of the phaton. At that moment