Southern Argus. [volume] (Columbus, Miss.) 1834-1842, 1840-04-14
THE INCONSTANT.


who is destitute of sympathy, and who
delights to dwell only in the region Of his
own crude ideas-to the rash politician,
who has become hateful to all mankind,
by his abuse of them--and to the hard |
hearted, unconscious vagrant, whose lamp
of life burns only in qualification Of his ap. |
pettes-my story may utterly fail to prove |
interesting. But hope that it will find |
reader among those, at least, who know
how 10 sympalhize with the unfortunate;
who can shed tear over the weakness
Of human nature; and who can incline an
ear of pity to the voice Of one who has
been shpwrecked on the ocean of expec.
tation. envy not the feelings of that
man who cannot find pleasure but in some
vague theory, some stoical doctrines; or
who can turn away in disgust from the re-
hearsal of events, because forsooth they
are the effects Of love. This passion is
in some degree the moving spring Of all
our actions; but when excited and cherish
editor the sake Of woman--in consequence
of her charms, her virtues, her confidence,
il is the basis Of the purest earthly happi-
ness. For, what is happinessl 1t is that
rare state Of mind which arises from an
absence Of all concern but for the ONE ob.
ject that lies nearest our hearts, whether
that object be expectant or in possession.
The experience of every one teaches him
that there is something soothing, fascina-
ting, and delightful in the influence of
love something which accoTds with his
nature-sets in motion the most tender
cords Of his heart-elevates his views
retines his feelings; and protects him from
the perplexing cares Of life. Take this,
gentle reader, as an apology for my story.
As you read, let not doubt and incredulity
fill your mind, in relation to the amount
of truth herein contained; for assure
you / was witness 70 most of what | tell
you, and the affair had its origin not far
from the place where the story is now first
told. Dreary Winter had long come. and
was about bidding farewell to the inhabi-
tants of our lovely village, in order that
delightful Spring might enter with all its
gay profusion, and invite US to q few
months enjoyment of sweet and jovial
mirth "Gradual sinks the breeze"
"TnLo perfect calm; that not breath
Is heard to culver through the closing woods
Or rustling turn the many twinkling leaves
Ofaspen tall The encircling floods, dffhs'd
In CLASSY breath, seem, thro' diAnsive lapse,
Forgetful of their course. IT'S silence all"
And pleasing expectation! Herds and flocks,
Crop the dry sprg and, mute-imploring eye
The falling verdure, even mountains, wales,
And forests seem, impatient to demand
The promised sweetness"-The swallow,
twittering sailed calmly on the gale--the low
ingherd trowzed harmlessly on the broad
Prairie-the breeze bore on its wings the
sweet odour of howers-and the bright
Luminary ofday arose and set with unu
sual smiles on his countenance. Yet, as
people, we we're not happy. This, is a
subject however, with which have moth
ing to do at this time. There were two
persons who were happy-happy in the
enjoyment Of Spring, and happy in the
participation Of each others love. They
cared not for surrounding contentious.
They were both young and their love was
pure and unaffected, and seemed to in
crease with their days. Kind reader, al
low me to digress Just here. Were you
ever in Lowell Have you not, once in your
life, met with some charming, fascinating,
angelick creature, whose very form, or
step, or pouting lip, or sparkling eve anna
zed you, made you pause, raised your
heart to your mouth-created within your
bosom a calm, inexpressible emotion,
which was felt throughout your whole
framel And, when you lost sight Of her,
did not her image rise before your vsionl
Did you not feel an empty void, which
could not be filed except by a view that
beingl IL so, it was love, be it real or i'm
aginary. The two who form the subject
Of my story, had gained their attachment
for each other in a way similar to, but not
quite so extravagant as that have des-
cribed. Amanda was a sweet, lovely girl
about fourteen years Of age, and descend
ed from poor, but respectable parents.
At an age like hers, the heart is tender,
the affections ardent; and though most
persons might be thought at that age, too
young to love, yet Amanda was, in the
highest degree, susceptible of that passion.
She had read of it in poetry and romance
and she had no idea of loss and gainin re.
thLlOu 10 lONB, dS ~ - lOO pACNalCub ia tfO
minds Of people Of this day. Her mint
was quick, and ever awake to the leas
insinuaton. There was charming grace
in her actions, melody in her voice, anC
music in her soul. As regards her per
sonal appearance there is no mistake
She has splendid form; her locks
Hang down neck pure white,
She resembles Minerva as she walks,
Her step is so light!
She had been carried into society, rath
or than restrained from it, and entering
thus early among the giddy and the gay
she had become fond Of admiration anC
fashion, had learned to endure hattery, anC
in word, had acquired most Of the beau
ties with some of the faults of an incon
slant world. It would be unnatural tina
she should have been free from all defects
though she had few as most Of the fair
There was in our village young man
who. in wandering over the vast world
had set his foot there as the place of BIZ
destiny. He was poor, and therefore de
pendant upon the energy of his own minC
for livelihood. But he did not conside
himself the more unfortunate for being
poor; viewing poverty as the Furnaces
which puriies man, developes his fac
ultias, and PREPARES him for a successful