The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1846-06-20
Miscellaneous,
MY FIRST sERENADE.
BYA. GUILE DRHYvERE.


iniscences, how many bright and glowing
pictures of by-gone days arise in their shad-
owy review before me as, in fancy, retrace
my steps through life to my first serenade!-
The shadows of past hopes and pleasures, of
hearts that loved me and forms that adored,
fit before me in quick succession; and, like
the Swedenborgian's heaven, the past sends
up to memory only the dear and cherished
images long laidup in the recess of my heart
How calmly, sweetly steal those drenmy inn
aginations upon the SOUL stealing it, away
from the present, wandering with it through
fthe thornless paths ofhappier days, when all
was bright around me; when with guileless
heart filled with generous impulses, | knew
but the sunny side of enrths existence, I'M
conscious that its shadows, its storms were TO
come. He who lives but for the future, who
looks not to the past, whose desert fancy has
notone green and pleasant oasis for memory
10 rest upon knows, indeed, but little of the
Joys l speak of To him the rosy tnge which
youth gave to all things meier comes again; he
reviews not, his moistened eye with memory
dwelling, the long-lost and cherished images
ofby-gone days. No silent contrition for
past weakness, no grateful pride for virtuous
actions done, no heartfelt gratitude to God
for past protection though thousand evils,
crowd upon his soul; he looks but for what is
yet to come, aud feels that the echeckered
path leads but to the tomb. He passes
through life, like traveller to whom ''distance
lends enchantmentto the view regardless of
the roses which the God of'Nature has thrown
around his path. The ardent impetuous
youth may well fix his heart upon the future,
but tits melancholy TO hear the man of years
declare that he would not live over his life a.
gam. Who would exchange the memories
OF the past for all that Tomorrow has in store
for him? Who would not thus trumphantly
'cXclaim with the poet of the heart
'"Let fate do her worst there are relics ofjoy
Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot
destroy,
Which comes in the nighttime of sorrow and
care,
To bring back the features that Joy used to
wear, .,
Still still be my heart with such memories
filled
Like the Vase in which roses have once been
distilled
Youmay break, you may ruin the vase if you
WILL
But the scent of the roses will hang round it
still"
But pardon me, fair reader, / am losing
sight Of my first screnade.
In January, 1887 | was laborious student
mt the military academy for during the pre-
wious twelve months my ambitious hopes had
been excited; tiie predictions ofwarm friends
had assigned me n distinguished stand in the
engineers; midnight excursions to Benny Ha-
ven's were abandoned for regular commun-
ings with "Scot's Tactics" In Place was the
idol that received my daily homage, and all
things promised well my graduating No. l at
the approaching May examination. Such
was my position when received an invitation
from my fathers friend, MIR A., ofNewburg,
to a party to be given on the approaching
eighth of January, accompanied by an earnest
request from my sister, then on a visit there,
that would throw aside my books and go
telling me that an old schoolmate of hers,
Miss Lucy Black, distinguished belle and
beauty, whom she much wished me to see,
had Just come up from New York.
The name of Lucy Black had no charms
for me, for my sister was the only one of her
sex whom had ever regarded with aught
but indifference; and then too, the name-Lu-
cy Black-was not to my taste. / have ever,
in spite ofmyself, been influenced by the tone
ola voice and the sound ola name, and "Lu-
cy Bacl"carried me at once to my own home
stead, where, when child, had seen the
cows MIXED and the poultry fed by our Lu-
cy, a fair specimen of n tidy, industrious help,
with black eyes and dmple, the special adj
miration of the boisterous stage driver who
regularly passed the house. There is,indeed
m1ch in name to invite or repel our favor
able regard. "a rose by any other name
would smell az sweet" was said by one who
throughout his immortal works ever evinces
the incest discrimination in the selection and
assignment Thames. How sweety fall the
sounds ofJuliet, Desdemona, Ophelia, Portia
aud Jessica upon the ear, bringing with
them distinct ideas Of fenenine loveliness
lrlthtulness and devotion, 1t required not
the great poet of mankind to tell us that
Catherine must he shrewish, an Elizabeth
mperlous, Gonerl ora Regan heartless and
cruel, and Helen confiding. The very
sounds convey to the mind their distinctive
characters. The great novelists of the age
have been no less discriminating; and Vivian
Grey prepares us for cultivated and dashing
elegance, Clifford for perfect manliness,
Fergus 'Roderick' and Rob Roy for the de-
termined, unyielding clansman, Tvanhoe' for
the high toned, cnivalrous knight, 'Balfour of
Burly' for the dark, violent and bigoted lead
or, and Meg Merriles' for the masculine and
intractable termagant.-rI have theory up
on this subject fortified by II thousand proofs,
ofwhich the world shall yet have the advan-
tage ltis.quite enough, however, for me at
present TO say, that had convinced myself
that Miss Lucy Black, this exposure of all
eyes whom i was so soon to encounter, was
pretty little girl with an affsctionate heart,a
round, pretty face, smart way of talking,
and a tout ensemble hhat appealed at once to a
mans good will and protection. On my sis
ter's account therefore, determined to no.
tce and patronize her,and with this generous
selfsacrifcing spirit, entered the rooms of
Mr. A. at about eleven O'clock, P. M. on the
9Th of January, l83-. Quadries were being
danced. .firtations seemed progressing, and
all bore an air of Joyous animation, but was