The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1858-09-09


he could not love anything 30 much better than
his ease as to suffer- Josey he was safe He
thought, or said, he loved me; but he was mis-
taken"
"Safe, indeed he ought to have been
shot"
"Hush, dearl"
There was long pause. 1t was as when you
lift wreck from the tranquil sea, and let il fall
again to the depths, useless to wave or shore
the black and CHASTITY hulk is covered; it is
seen no more; but the water pslpitates With
circHng rings, trembles above the grave, dashes
quick and apprehensive pillows upon the sand,
and is long in regaining its quiet surface.
wonder if there ever was perfect man."
said Joe, at length, drawing deep sigh.
You an American girl, 10, and don't think
at once of Washington
My dear, / am bored to death with Wash
ineton PAmericain. A man how dare you
call him man? Don't you know he is a
myth, an abstraction, plaster of Paris cast ?
Did you ever hear any human trait of his no
ucedT Weren't you brought up to regard him
as species of special sersph, sublime and
stainless figure, insepsrable from q grand man.
ner and a scroll? Did you ever dare to suppose
he a'e, or drank, or kissed his wife? You
started then at the idea; saw you'll"
p" GU are absurd, 10. 1t is true that he is
exactly, among US, what demigods were to the
Greeks, only less human than they. But when
l once get my neck out of the school yoke,
do not start at such suggestions as yours
believe he did comport himself as a man of
like passions with others. and was as far from
being a hero to his U1let de chan.6re as any,
body"
by this time we were at home, and 10 fang
her parasol on the bench in the porch, and sat
down beside it with gesture of WEAKNESS and
disgust mingled.
why will you, of all people, Sarah, quote
that tinkling, superficial trash Of proverb, so
palpsbly French, when the true reason why
man is not hero to his lackey is only because
he Is seen with lackeys eyes-ihe sight of a
low, convention-ridden, narrow, uueducated
mind, unable to take a broad enough view to
see that man is a hero because he is a man,
because he overlesps the level of his life, and
is greater than his race, being one of them ?
1t he were of the heroic race, what virtue In
being heroic2 1t is the assertion of his trivial
life that makes bis speciality evident-the
shadow that throws out the has relief. We
chatter endessly about the immense good OF
Washington's example; | believe its good
would be more than doubled, could we be made
nationally to see him as human being living
on human natures daily food,' having mortal
and natural wants, tastes, and infrmities, bat
building with, and over all, by the help of God
and good will, the noble and lofty edifice of
q patriot manhood, pure life of duty and de-
Vouon, sublime for its very strength and sim
pleness, heroic because manly and human"
The day bad waned, and the sunset lit joe
phine's excited eyes with fire. She was not
beautiful, but now, if ever, beauty visited her
with q transient caress She looked uu. and
met my eyes fixed on her.
| "What ia N Sally what do 7 Iool, EI,ooY
| "Very pretty just now, 10; your e7es are
bright, and your cheek flashed. The supshine
suits you. | admire you tonight"
:" l am glad" said she, naively. al often
wish to be pretty"
g A waste wish, 10 and yet have enter
tanned it myself"
It's not 30 much mater fer you, Sarah
tor people love you. And, besides. you'ye a
certain kind of beauty. Your eyes are beauti-
ful-rather too sad, perhaps-but fine in shape
and tint; and you have good head, and a
dehcately outlined face. Moreover, you are
picturesque; people look at you, ard then lock
again-and, any way, love you, don't they?"
People are very good to me, Jo."
Oh, yes! we all know that people as mass
are kindly, considerable, and unselfsh; that thew
are given TO loving and adniring disapreeahls
and ugly people; in short tina. the millennium
has come. Sally, nay dear, you are small hypo
crite-or else-but | think we won't estab
lish mutual admiration society tonight, as
there are only two of US besides, | am hun.
cry; let US have tea."
The next day, Josephine left me- IA we
walked together toward the landing Of the
steamer, Lefty Allis emerged from green
lane, to say good bye, and down it's vista | dis
cerned the handsome, lazy person of Henry
Maiden but did not inform L .tty of nv dis
covery.
year passed away, to me with the ola mo-
notonous routine; full of work, not wanting in
solaoe; barren, indeed, of household enioy-
ments and vicissitudes solitary, sometimes
desolate, yet peaceful in monotony. But this
ewspriDg had not come with such serene neg
iect to the other two of US three Against adj
vice, remonstrsnce, and entreaty, from her good
friends, Lefty Allis had married Henry Maiden,
and, in attire more tasteful, but quite as far
from Quakerism as Josephine had predicted,
beamed upon the Inhabitants of Slepington
from the bow window or open door of a cot
tsge very ornee. indeed while the cdor of a
toieraole cigar served as Mr.. Malden's expo
nent wherever he abode. And to Josephine
had come loss no annual resurre cson should
repair: her mother was dead. She, too. was
orphaned, for she had never known her father;
her only sister was married far away; and j
Kept an old promise in going 10 her for a years
stay at least.
Aunt Boyle's property had consisted chiefly
In large cotton mills owned BY herself and her
twin brother, who, dying before her, left her all
his own share in them. These mills we're on
noisy little river in the western part of Mas
sachusetts-in a valley, narrow, but picturesque,
and so far above the level Of the sea that the
air was keen and pure as among mountains.
Mrs. Boyle had removed here from Baltimore.
few years before her own death, that she
might be with her BROTHER through his long and
fatal illness and finding her health improved
BY change OF air, had occupied his house ever
since, until one of those typhoid fevers that
Infest such river gorges at certain seasons of
the year entered the village about the mills.
when, in visiting the sick, she took the epidemic
herself, and died. Josephine still retained the
house endeared to her by sad and glad recol-
lections and it was there found her, when.
after renting the whole of my little tenement a.
Siepington, betook myself to Valley Mills at
her request.
The cottage where she lived was capaeious
enough for her wants, and though plain, even
10 An air OF superciiousness, without, was most
luxurious within-made to use and live in for
Mr.. Brown, her uncle, WAS an Englishman, and
had never arrived stthat height of Transatlantic
ton which consists in shrouding and darkeninp
ell the pleasant rooms in the house, and skulk.
ing through life in the basement and attic.
Sunshine, cushions, and flowers, were Mr..
Browns personal tastes; and plenty of these
characteriz I'D the cottage, A green terrace
between hill and river spread out before the
door for lawn and garden, and tiny conserya-
tory abuttsd upon the brink of the terrace
slope, from bay-window in the library, that
opened sidewise into this winter garden.
found 10 more changed than | had ar.
Pected; this last year of country life had given
strength and elasticity to the tan and slender