The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1848-02-05


II thank thee, friend" replied tie youth,
"but ] do not mean TO be n poet, nor hcnyeN
be praised! do | think Miriam ever made .
vHrse i'm her life. So we ueCA not fear thy
dsappontncuts. But, Miriam" lie added,
with real concern, 'lheo knoWCst ilnt the
elders admit nobody that las not gilt to bo
useful. Now what under The sun can they
do with this poor varse maker"
"Nuy, Josiah, do not thee discourage tho
poor man." said the girl, IN all simplicity and
Kindness. sour hyInu6 are very rough, aud
perhaps tioy may trust him to smooth them
Without noticing this hint Of professional
employment the poet turned uwayuud gave
hmscfup 10 n sort Of vague, revery, Which
ho called thought. Sometimes he watched
the moon, pouring Il silvery liquid on the
clouds, through which it slowly melted ui
they became all bright then he saw the same
sweet radiance dancing on The leuiy trees
which rua,lcd as Tito Shake it offer sleeping
on The high tops Of hills, or lowering down
in distant yal.cs, like the material Of unsh0p-
cd dreams; lastly, lie looked into the spring,
and there Tie light was nling!Hg with Tho
water. Ia lis crystal bosom, too, beboldlHg
all heaven reflected there, lac found an EN-
bCm ola pure and tranquil breast lie lis
tened to that most cherlal OF all sounds, the
song OF crckets, coming in iuli choir UPON
The wind and ianCicd. that, if moonlight could
j
naly hc took drauglt al the ShnAer spring,
aud, us if il were the true Custnlia, vas forth
with moved TO Comp0fc n lyric, Farewell tp
his Harp, which he sWorc should he its clo-
sing strain, tlIG last verse that an uugraiCtUl
world should have from him, This eiiusiou,
with two or three other litlle pieces, sulisc-
Quentiy, written, he took the first opporuni.
~ to send Ivy one ofthe Shaker brethren to
Concord, where they were published in the
New Hampshire Patriot.
Meantime, another ofthc Canterbury Pill
grlms, one so different from Tic poet, that tho
delicate fancy ofthe latter could hnrdly have
conceived ofhim. began 10 relate his sad cX-
perience. He WAS a small man, of quick md
uuquiet gestures, about fifty years old, with
Il narrow forehead all wrinkIed and drawn
together. He held in his hand pcECil,and
card of some commission merchant in for
eign parts, on the back of which, for there
was light enough TO read OF write by, lie
seemed ready TO figure out calculation.
"Young man." said he abruptly, "wIat
quantity of land do the Shakers own here in
Canterbury"
"'That is more than ! can tell thee, friend"
answered Josiah, "hut it is a very rich estah-
Iishmeut, and tor n long way hy the road side,
thee may guess the land 10 be ours by the
ncatness of the fences'
Sand what may he the value oftbe wbole,p
continued the stranger, "witll all the build
ngs and improvements, pretty nearly, in
round numbers"
ooh, a monstrons sum, more than cun
reckon" replied The young Shaker.
"Well, sir" said the pilgrim, "there was n
day and not very long ago, neither, when |
stood at my counting room window, and
watched the signal flags ofthrec of my own
ships entering the hurbor, from the East In
dies, from Liverpool, and from mp the Straits;
and would not have given the invoice of lhe
least of them for the title deeds of this whole
Shaker settlement. You stare. Perhaps,
now, you won't believe that could have put
more value on little piece Of paper, no big
ger than the palm ofyour hand, tian all these
solid acres of grain, grass, and pasture lard
would sell for?'
81 won't dispute it, friend" answered Jo-
siah, "but know had rather have fifty acres
of This good land. than whole sheet of thy
paper"
"Iou may say so now" said the ruined
merchant, bitterly, "for my name would not
he worth the paper Should write it on. OF
course, you must have heard of my failurc:N
And the stranger mentioned his name,
which, however mighty it might have been
in the commercial world, the young Shaker
had revcr heard of among the Canterbury
hills.
mot heard of my iailure" exclaimed Tie
merchant, considerably pqned. NVhy, ii
was spoken Of Oh Change in London, aud
from Boson to New Orleans, incn tremblcd
in their shoes. at all events, did fail, and
you see ne here on my road TO the Shaker
village, where doubtless, (ior the Shakers are
a shrowd set,) they will have due respect
for my experience, and give NC the man
aGcncnt oftho trading part Of the c0nrcrr
in which case, ihiuk can pledge myself
70 double their capital in four or five years
Turn back with me, young man, for though
you will never meet with my good luck, ydli
can hardly escape my bad.
81 will not turn back for ibis" replied 10
s!nh, calmly, 'any more tIian for iha advice
oi he varse maker, between whom aud thee
friend, sec sort Of likeness. though carr,
Justly say where it lies. But Miriam aud
can earn our daily bread among thq woyIds
people, as well as in The Shaker village. And
do we want anything more Migun:"
"Nothing more, Josiub," said the girl qui-
city. ...
Eyes Miriam, and daily bread for some
other little mouths if God send Them" Oh
served the simple Shaker lad
Miriam did not reply, but looked down III
TO the spring, where she encountered the in
ane finer own pretty face, blusling within
tho prln little bonnet. The third pilgrim,
now took up the conversation. He was a
5unburnt coun,ryman, oftall frame and hony
whose rude and manly face there
Il darker more suIlen and obstinate
than on those of either the no.
Ell or the merchant. ..| ISL. .,t.'
"Well now, youngstcr,n he began, "llese
olks have had their say, so ri take my turn,
Wy story will CIT but poor figure by the side
If theirs; for never supposed that could
nave right TO meat and drink, and great
praise besides only for tngging rhymes 10
al. Il, II, \