The Female Prose Writers of America. With portraits, biographical notices, and specimens of their writings, etc

Preface

. The unwonted favour extended to " Read's Female Poets of America," led to the belief that a work on the Female Prose Writers, constructed on a similar plan, would be not unacceptable to the public. In the preparation of the biographies, much difficulty has been experienced. Few things are more intangible and elusive, than the biography of persons still living, and yet, in the case of those who have pleased us by their writings, few things are more interesting. It seems to be an instinctiye. desire of the human heart, on becom ing acquainted with any workrof 'genius, to know something of its author. Nor is this mere idle curiosity. It is a part of that homage, which every mind rightly constituted, spontaneously offers to whatever is great or good. This feeling of personal interest in an author who has moved us, is greatly increased where, as in the case of most female writers, the subjects of which they write, are chiefly of an emotional nature, carrying with them on every page the unmistakeable impress of personal sympathy, if not experience.

Women, far more than men, write from the heart. Their own likes and dislikes, their feelings, opinions, tastes, and sympathies are so mixed up with those of their subject, that the interest of the

PREFACE.

. reader is often enlisted quite as much for the writer, as for the hero, of a tale. Knowing, therefore, how general is this desire to become ac quainted with the personal history of authors, I have taken special pains, in preparing a work on the Female Prose Writers of the country, to make the biographical sketches as full and minute as circumstances would justify, or the writers themselves would allow. The work contains two charming pieces of autobiography, now appearing for the first time, from two long-established favourites with the public, Miss Leslie and Mrs. Gilman. In almost all cases the information has been obtained directly by correspondence with the authors, or their friends. Where this has failed, recourse has been bad to the best printed authorities. The work, it is believed, will be found to contain an unusual amount of authentic information, and on subjects where authentic information is equally desirable and difficult to obtain.

The task of making selections has not been easy. I have studied, as far as possible, to select passages characteristic of the different styles of each writer, and at the same time to present the reader with an agreeable variety. Those who have not been led professionally, or otherwise, to exa mine the subject particularly, will probably be surprised at the evidences of the rapid growth of literature, among American women, during the present generation. When Hannah Adams first published her " View of all Religions," so rare was the example of a woman who could write a book, that she was looked upon as one of the wonders of the Western world. Learned men of Europe sought her acquaintance, and entered into correspondence with her. Yet now, less than twenty years since the death of Hannah Adams, a ponderous volume of nearly five hundred pages is hardly sufficient to enrol the names, and give a few brief extracts from each of our female writers, who have already adorned the annals of literature

PREFACE.

. IX by their prose writings, to say nothing of the numerous and not less distinguished sisterhood, who have limited themselves to poetry. A word in regard to the portraits. These have been made, wherever it was practicable, from original paintings or drawings, recently executed, so as to give a likeness of the author as she is now. That of Margaret Fuller is from a portrait by Hicks, copied fronK an original painted by himself in Rome, during her residence in that city, and considered by her friends, there and here, an excel lent likeness. The portrait of Mrs. Hentz is from a miniature, painted last year by her husband, who is an artist. Mrs. Kirkland's is from a crayon drawing by Martin, and Mrs. Neal's from a crayon drawing by Furtsess, both made expressly for the work. The others are, with one exception, from recent likenesses, redrawn by Croome.

All of these have been engraved in London, in the light and graceful style most generally approved for heads. The illuminated fron tispiece and title-page were designed by Mr. Devereux, who has clone so much, by his skill, to make the productions of literature at the same time specimens of art. CONTENTS. CATHERINE M. SEDGWICK : PA0E BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE X7 MAGNETISM AMONG THE SHAKERS ......... 19 THE SABBATH IN NEW ENGLAND 24 ELIZA LESLIE : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 26 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 27 MRS. DERRINGTON'S RECEPTION DAY 32 CAROLINE GILMAN : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 49 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 49 SARAH HALL, BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 58 ON FASHION 60 MARIA J. McINTOSH: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 63 TWO PORTRAITS 69 LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 76 THE LOST CHILDREN 84 I HATE SEEN AN END OF ALL PERFECTION 90 SARAH J. HALE : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 93 FROM "woman's RECORD" 95 THE MODE 96 LOUISA C. TUTHILL: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 100 DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE IN THE UNITED STATES 103 CAROLINE M. KIRKLAND : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 105 THE MYSTERY OF VISITING 106 (H) CONTENTS.

XII LYDIA M. CHILD : PAGE BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE H° 110 OLE BUL •* 199 THE UMBRELLA GIRL *— EMMA C. EMBURY : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE I-8 TWO FACES UNDER ONE HOOD "9 MARY S. B. SHINDLER : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE .....-■•••• 1*2 A DAY IN NEW YORK 147 CAROLINE LEE HENTZ : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 151 AUNT PATTY'S SCRAP BAG * ■ 154 HANNAH ADAMS: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 161 THE GNOSTICS 162 ELIZABETH F. ELLET: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 166 MARY SLOCUMB 167 E. OAKES SMITH : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 178 THE MYSTERY OF THE MOUNTAIN 179 THE ANGEL AND THE MAIDEN 1S3 LOUISA S. McCORD: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 187 THE RIGHT TO LABOUR 1S7 ANN S. STEPHENS: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 193 THE QUILTING PARTY ........... 194 FRANCES S. OSGOOD; BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 200 THE MAGIC LUTE 201 ELIZABETH C. KINNEY : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 208 OLD MAIDS 209 THE SON.NET 211 HARRIET FARLEY BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE ........ . 215 ABBY'S YEAR IN LOWELL 217 MARY H. EASTMAN ; BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE OOg 6HAH-CO-PEE ; THE ORATOR OF THE SIOUX .... 9'1T S. MARGARET FULLER: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE „„,- A SHORT ESSAY ON CRITICS ,.,„ HARRIET BEECHER STOWE : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE . . 246 THE TEA ROSE ... ' ... 24o CONTENTS.

XIII SARA H. BROWNE : PAaE BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 254 A SALUTATION TO FREDRIKA BREMER . 257 MARIA J. B. BROWNE : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 260 LOOKING UP IN THE WORLD 262 ELIZABETH BOGART: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 274 ARTHUR MOWBRAY 276 RECOLLECTIONS OF CHILDHOOD 279 JANE ELIZABETH LARCOMBE : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 280 THOUGHTS BY THE WAYSIDE 280 EMILY C. JUDSON: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 283 LUCY DUTTON 284 MY FIRST GRIEF 290 SARA J. CLARKE : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 292 A DREAM OF DEATH 294 EXTRACT FROM A

LETTER 298 ANNE

C. LYNCH : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 302 FREDRIKA BREMER 305 MARY E. HEWITT: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE , 312 A LEGEND OF IRELAND 313 ALICE B. NEAL : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 321 THE CHILD LOVE 323 CLARA MOORE : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 335 THE YOUNG MINISTER'S CHOICE 336 ANN E. PORTER: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE ........... 345 cousin Helen's baby 346 E. W. BARNES: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 353 THE YOUNG RECTOR ........... 353 ANNE T. WILBUR: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 360 ALICE VERNON 361 ELIZA L. SPROAT : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 367 THE ENCHANTED LUTE 367 MARY SPENSER PEASE : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 371 THE WITCH-HAZEL 371 THE SISTERS ............. CONTENTS. XIV SUSAN FENIMORE COOPER : P4GI BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 379 SPIDERS .........-•••• 379 HUMMING-BIRDS ............ 381 WEEDS ...........-•* 384 ELIZABETH WETHERELL : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE ........... 387 LITTLE ELLEN AND THE SHOPMAN ......... 388 CAROLINE ORNE: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 396 DOCTOR PLUMLEY ............ 398 CAROLINE MAY: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 401 HANDEL .............. 401 LUCRETIA AND MARGARET DAVIDSON 402 JULIA C. R. DORR: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 407 HILLSIDE COTTAGE 40S MARY ELIZABETH MORAGNE: BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 413 THE HUGUENOT TOWN . .......... 415 MARY ELIZABETH LEE : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE ........... 41S EXTRACT FROM A LETTER .......... 420 MARY J. WINDLE : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE ........... 423 ALICE HEATH'S INTERVIEW WITH CROMWELL 424 FRANCES B. M. BROTHERSON : BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE ........... 430 THE OLD AND THE NEW YEAR LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. i. ILLUMINATED FRONTISPIECE.

EXECUTED BY SINCLAIR, FROM AN ORIGINAL DRAWING BY DEVEREUX. II. ILLUMINATED TITLE-PAGE. EXECUTED BY SINCLAIR, FROM AN ORIGINAL DRAWING BY DEVEREUX. III. PORTRAIT OF MISS SEDGWICK. ENGRAVED IN LONDON, FROM A DRAWING BY CROOME AFTER A PORTRAIT BY INGHAM. IV. PORTRAIT OF MISS McINTOSH. ENGRAVED IN LONDON, FROM A DRAWING BY' CROOME LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. XVI V. PORTRAIT OF MRS. KIRKLAND. ENGRAVED IN LONDON, FROM A CRAYON DRAWING BY MARTIN. VI. PORTRAIT OF MRS. HENTZ. ENGRAVED IN LONDON, FROM A DRAWING BY CROOME, AFTER A MINIATURE BY MR. HENTZ. VII. PORTRAIT OF MRS. STEPHENS ENGRAVED IN LONDON, FROM A DRAWING BY CROOME. VIII. PORTRAIT OF S. M A RG>3fB§S§l«8&Tv. (marchioness d'o S S 0 L I.) ENGRAVED IN LONDON, FROM A PORTRAIT BY HICKS. IX. PORTRAIT OF MRS. JUDSON. (FANNY FORRESTER.) ENGRAVED IN LONDON, FROM A DRAWING BY CROOME.

X. PORTRAIT OF MRS. NEAL. ENGRAVED IN LONDON, FROM A CRAYON DRAWING BY FURNESS. Miss Sedgwick holds about the same position among our female prose writers that Cooper holds among American novelists. She was the first of her class whose -writings became generally known, and the eminence universally conceded to her on account of priority, has been almost as generally granted on other grounds. Amid the throng of new competitors for public favour, who have entered the arena within the last few years, there is not one, probably, whose admirers would care to disturb the well earned laurels of the author of " Redwood" and " Hope Leslie." Miss Sedgwick is a native, and has been much of her life, a resident of Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Her father was the Hon. Theodore Sedgwick, of Stockbridge, who served his country with distinguished reputation in various stations, and particularly in the Congress of the United States, as Speaker of the House of Representatives, and afterwards as Senator, and who, at the time of his death, was one of the Judges of the Supreme Court of his own State.

Her brothers, Henry and Theodore, have both been distinguished as lawyers and as political writers. On the mother's side, she is connected with the Dwight family, of whom her grandfather, Joseph Dwight, was a Brigadier-General in the Massachusetts Provincial forces, and actively engaged in the old French war of 1756. Judge Sedgwick died in 1813, before his daughter had given any public demonstration of her abilities as a writer. Her talents seem to have been from the first justly appreciated by her brothers, whose judicious encouragement is very gracefully acknowledged in the preface to the new edition of her works, commenced by Mr. Putnam, in 1849. Miss Sedgwick's first publication was " The New England Tale." The author informs us in the preface, that the story was commenced as a religious tract, and that it gradually grew in her hands, beyond the proper limits of such a work.

Finding this to be the case, she abandoned all design of publication, but finished the tale for her own amusement. Once 2 finished, however, the opinions and solicitations of her friends prevailed over her own earnest wishes, and the volume was given to the world in 1822. The original intention of this book led the author to give special prominence to topics of a questionable character for a professed novel, and the unfavourable portraiture which she gives, both here and elsewhere, of New England Puritanism, has naturally brought upon her some censure. The limited plan of the story did not give opportunity for the display of that extent and variety of power which appear in some of her later pro ductions. Still it contains passages of stirring eloquence, as well as of deep tenderness, that will compare favourably with anything she has written.

Perhaps the chief value of " The New England Tale" was its effect upon the author herself. Its publication broke the ice of diffidence and indifference, and launched her, under a strong wind, upon the broad sea of letters. " Redwood" accordingly followed in 1824. It was received at once with a degree of favour that caused the author's name to be associated, and on equal terms, with that of Cooper, who was then at the height of his popularity ; and, indeed, in a French translation of the book, which then appeared, Cooper is given on the title-page as the author. " Redwood" was also translated into the Italian, besides being reprinted in England. The reputation of the author was confirmed and extended by the appearance, in 1827, of "Hope Leslie," the most decided favourite of all her novels.

She has written other things since, that in the opinion of some of the critics are superior to either " Redwood" or " Hope Leslie." But, these later writings have had to jostle their way among a crowd of competitors, both domestic and foreign. Her earlier works stood alone, and " Hope Leslie," especially, became firmly associated in the public mind with the rising glories of a native literature. It was not only read with lively satisfaction, but familiarly quoted and applauded as a source of national pride. Her subsequent novels followed at about uniform intervals ; " Clarence, a Tale of our Own Times," in 1830 ; " Le Bossu," one of the Tales of the " Glauber Spa," in 1832 ; and " The Linwoods, or Sixty Years Since in America," in 1835. In 1836, she commenced writing in quite a new vein, giving a series of illustrations of common life, called " The Poor Rich Man, and the Rich Poor Man."

These were followed, in 1837, by " Live and Let Live," and afterwards by " Means and Ends," a " Love Token for Children," and " Stories for Young Persons." In 1839, Miss Sedgwick went to Europe, and while there, wrote " Letters from Abroad to Kindred at Home." These were collected after her return, and published in two volumes. She has written also a " Life of Lucretia M. Davidson," and has con tributed numerous articles to the Annuals and the Magazines. Some of her recent publications have been prepared expressly for children and young persons. " The Boy of Mount Rhigi," published in 1848, is one of a series of tales projected for the purpose of diffusing sentiments of goodness among the young. The titles of some of her other small vo lumes are " Facts and Fancies," " Beatitudes and Pleasant Sundays," "Morals of Manners," "Wilton Harvey," "Home," "Louisa and her Cousins," " Lessons without Books," &c. The quality of mind which is most apparent in Miss Sedgwick's writings is that of strength.

The reader feels at every step that he has to do with a vigorous and active intellect. Another quality, resulting from this possession of power, is the entire absence of affectation of every kind. There is no straining for effect, no mere verbal prettinesses. The discourse proceeds with the utmost simplicity and directness, as though the author were more intent upon what she is saying than how she says it. And yet, the mountain springs of her own Housatonick do not send up a more limpid stream, than is the apparently spontaneous flow of her pure English. As a novelist, Miss Sedgwick has for the most part wisely chosen American subjects. The local traditions, scenery, manners, and costume, being thus entirely familiar, she has had greater freedom in the exercise of the creative faculty, on which, after all, real eminence in the art mainly depends.

Her characters are conceived with distinctness, and are minutely individual and consistent, while her plot always shows a mind fertile in resources and a happy adaptation of means to ends. MAGNETISM AMONG THE SHAKERS. One of the brethren from a Shaker settlement in our neighbour hood, called on us the other day. I was staying with a friend, in whose atmosphere there is a moral power, analogous to some chemical test, which elicits from every form of humanity whatever of sweet and genial is in it. Our visiter was an old acquaintance, and an old member of his order, having joined it more than forty years ago with his wife and two children. I have known marked individuals among these people, and yet it surprises me when I see an original stamp of character, surviving the extinguishing mono tony of life, or rather suspended animation among them.

What God has impressed man cannot efface. To a child's eye, each leaf of a tree is like the other ; to a philosopher's each has its distinc tive mark. Our friend W.'s individuality might have struck a careless observer. He has nothing of the angular, crusty, silent aspect of most of his yea and nay brethren, who have a perfect conviction that they have dived to the bottom of the well and found the pearl truth, while all the rest of the world look upon them as at the bottom of a well indeed ; but without the pearl, and with only so much light as may come in through the little aperture that communicates with the outward world. Neither are quite right ; the Shaker has no monopoly of truth or holiness, but we believe he has enough of both to light a dusky path to heaven. Friend Wilcox is a man of no pretension whatever ; but content in conscious mediocrity.

We were at dinner when he came in ; but friend Wilcox is too childlike or too simple, to be disturbed by any observances of conventional politeness. He declined an invitation to dine, saying he had eaten and was not hungry, and seated him self in the corner, after depositing some apples on the table, of rare size and beauty. "I have brought some notions, too," he said, "for you, B ," and he took from his ample pocket his handkerchief, in which he had tied up a parcel of sugar plums and peppermints. B accepted them most affably, and without any apparent recoiling, shifted them from the old man's handkerchief to an empty plate beside her. " Half of them," he said, "remember, B , are for . You both played and sung to me last summer — I don't forget it. She is a likely woman, and makes the music sound almost as good as when I was young !"

This was enthusiasm in the old Shaker ; but to us it sounded strangely, who knew that she who had so kindly condescended to call back brother Wilcox's youth, had held crowds entranced by her genius. Brother Wilcox is a genial old man, and fifty years of abstinence from the world's pleasures has not made him forget or contemn them. He resembles the jolly friars in conventual life, who never resist, and are therefore allowed to go without bits or reins, and in a very easy harness. There is no galling in restraint where there is no desire for freedom. It is the "immortal lonoings" that make the friction in life. After dinner, B , at brother Wilcox's request, sate down to the piano, and played for him the various tunes that were the favourites in rustic inland life forty years ago. First the Highland reel, then "Money Musk."

"I remember who I danced that with," he said, " Sophy Drury. The ball was held in the school room at Feeding fields. She is tight built, and cheeks as red as a rose (past and present were con founded in brother Wilcox's imagination). I went home with Sophy — it was as light as day, and near upon day — them was pleasant times !" concluded the old man, but without one sigh of regret, and with a gleam of light from his twinkling gray eye. " There have been no such pleasant times since, brother Wilcox, has there ?" asked B , with assumed or real sympathy. " I can't say that, it has been all along pleasant. I have had what others call crosses, but I don't look at them that way — what's the use?" The old man's philosophy struck me. There was no record of a cross in his round jolly face. "Were you married," I asked, " when you joined the Shakers ?"

" Oh, yes ; I married at twenty — it's never too soon nor too late to do right, you know, and it was right for me to marry according to the light I had then. May be you think it was a cross to part from my wife — all men don't take it so — but I own I should ; I liked Eunice. She is a peaceable woman, and we lived in unity, but it was rather hard times, and we felt a call to join the brethren, and so we walked out of the world together, and took our two children with us. In the society she was the first woman handy in all cases." " And she is still with you ?" " No. Our girl took a notion and went off, and got married, and my wife went after her — that's natural for mothers, you know. I went after Eunice, and tried to persuade her to come back, and she felt so ; but it's hard rooting out mother-love ; it's planted deep, and spreads wide ; so I left her to nature, and troubled myself no more about it, for what was the use ?

My son, too, took a liking to a young English girl that was one of our sisters — may be you have seen her ?" We had all seen her and admired her fresh English beauty, and deplored her fate. " Well, she was a picture, and speaking after the manner of men, as good as she was hand some. They went off together ; I could not much blame them. and I took no steps after them — for what was the use ? But come, strike up again ; play ' Haste to the wedding.' ' B obeyed, and our old friend sang or chanted a low accom paniment ; in which the dancing tune and the Shaker nasal chant were ludicrously mingled. B played all his favourite airs, and then said, " You do love dancing, brother Wilcox ?" " Yes, to be sure — ' praise him in the cymbals and dances !' ' " Oh, but I mean such dances as we have here.

Would not you like, brother Wilcox, to come over and see us dance ?" " Why, may be I should." " And would not you like to dance with one of our pretty young ladies, brother Wilcox?" "May be I should;" the old man's face lit up joyously — but he smiled and shook his head, " they would not let me, they would not let me." Perhaps the old Shaker's imagination wandered for a moment from the very straight path of the brotherhood, but it was but a moment. His face reverted to its placid passiveness, and he said, " I am perfectly content. I have enough to eat and drink — everything good after its kind, too — good clothes to wear, a warm bed to sleep in, and just as much work as I like, and no more." "All this, and heaven too," — of which the old man felt perfectly sure — was quite enough to fill the measure of a Shaker's desires.

"Now," said he, "you think so much of your dances, I wish you could see one of our young sisters dance, when we go up to Mount Holy. She has the whirling gift ; she will spin round like a top, on one foot, for half an hour, all the while seeing visions, and receiving revelations." This whirling is a recent gift of the Shakers. The few "world's folk" who have been permitted to see its exhibition, compare its subjects to the whirling Dervishes. " Have you any other new inspiration ?" I asked. " Gifts, you mean ? Oh, yes ; we have visio7iists. It's a wonderful mystery to me. I never was much for looking into mysteries — they rather scare me!" Naturally enough, poor childlike old man ! " What, brother Wilcox," I asked, " do you mean by a visionist ?" " I can't exactly explain," he replied. " They see things that the natural eye can't see, and hear, and touch, and taste, with inward senses.

As for me, I never had any kind of gifts, but a contented mind, and submission to those in authority, and I don't see at all into this new mystery. It makes me of a tremble when I think of it. I'll tell you how it acts. Last summer I was among our brethren in York State, and when I was coming away, I went down into the garden to take leave of a young brother there. He asked me if I would carry something for him to Vesta. Vesta is a young sister, famous for her spiritual gifts, whirling, &c." I could have added, for I had seen Vesta — for other less questionable gifts in the world's estimation — a light graceful figure, graceful even in the Shaker straight jacket, and a face like a young Sibyl's. " Well," continued brother Wilcox, " he put his hand in his pocket, as if to take out something, and then stretching it to me, he said, ' I want you to give this white pear to Vesta.' I felt to take some thing, though I saw nothing, and a sort of trickling heat ran through me ; and even now, when I think of it, I have the same feeling, fainter, but the same.

When I got home, I asked Vesta if she knew that young brother. ' Yea,' she said. I put my hand in my pocket and took it out again, to all earthly seeming as empty as it went in, and stretched it out to her. ' Oh, a white pear !' she said. As I hope for salvation, every word that I tell you is true," concluded the old man. It was evident he believed every word of it to be true. The incredulous may imagine that there was some clandestine inter course between the "young brother" and "young sister," and that simple old brother Wilcox was merely made the medium of a fact or sentiment, symbolized by the white pear. However that may be, it is certain that animal magnetism has penetrated into the cold and dark recesses of the Shakers. THE SABBATH IN NEW ENGLAND. The observance of the Sabbath began with the Puritans, as it still does with a great portion of their descendants, on Saturday night.

At the going down of the sun on Saturday, all temporal affairs were suspended ; and so zealously did our fathers maintain the letter, as well as the spirit of the law, that, according to a vulgar tradition in Connecticut, no beer was brewed in the latter part of the week, lest it should presume to work on Sunday. It must be confessed, that the tendency of the age is to laxity ; and so rapidly is the wholesome strictness of primitive times abating, that, should some antiquary, fifty years hence, in explor ing his garret rubbish, chance to cast his eye on our humble pages, he may be surprised to learn, that, even now, the Sabbath is observed, in the interior of New England, with an almost Judaical severity. On Saturday afternoon an uncommon bustle is apparent. The great class of procrastinators are hurrying to and fro to complete the lagging business of the week.

The good mothers, like Burns's matron, are plying their needles, making " auld claes look amaist as weel's the new;" while the domestics, or help (we prefer the national descriptive term), are wielding, with might and main, their brooms and mops, to make all tidy for the Sabbath. As the day declines, the hum of labour dies away, and, after the sun is set, perfect stillness reigns in every well-ordered house hold, and not a foot-fall is heard in the village street. It cannot be denied, that even the most scriptural, missing the excitement of their ordinary occupations, anticipate their usual bed-time. The obvious inference from this fact is skilfully avoided by certain ingenious reasoners, who allege, that the constitution was originally so organized as to require an extra quantity of sleep on every seventh night.

We recommend it to the curious to inquire, how this peculiarity was adjusted, when the first day of the week was changed from Saturday to Sunday. The Sabbath morning is as peaceful as the first hallowed day. Not a human sound is heard without the dwellings, and, but for the lowing of the herds, the crowing of the cocks, and the gossipping of the birds, animal life would seem to be extinct, till, at the bidding of the church-going bell, the old and young issue from their habitations, and, with solemn demeanour, bend their measured steps to the meeting-house ; — the families of the minister, the squire, the doctor, the merchant, the modest gentry of the village, and the mechanic and labourer, all arrayed in their best, all meeting on even ground, and all with that consciousness of independence and equality, w-hich breaks down the pride of the rich, and rescues the poor from servility, envy, and discontent.

If a morning salutation is reciprocated, it is in a suppressed voice ; and if, perchance, nature, in some reckless urchin, burst forth in laughter — " My dear, you forget it's Sunday," is the ever ready reproof. Though every face wears a solemn aspect, yet we once chanced to see even a deacon's muscles relaxed by the wit of a neighbour, and heard him allege, in a half-deprecating, half-laughing voice, " The squire is so droll, that a body must laugh, though it be Sabbath-day." Towards the close of the day (or to borrow a phrase descriptive of his feelings, who first used it), "when the Sabbath begins to abate," the children cluster about the windows. Their eyes wan der from their catechism to the western sky, and, though it seems to them as if the sun would never disappear, his broad disk does slowly sink behind the mountain ; and, while his last ray still lingers on the eastern summits, merry voices break forth, and the ground resounds with bounding footsteps.