The Factory Girl | Page 4

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died upon the ear, and she heard no more, she rose from the window
and retired to rest.
How sweet the rest of that individual, whose mind is conscious of
rectitude! How blessed the state of that mind that can place its trust in
an Omnipotent Arm, and fear no evil! Such was the mind of Calliste;
and she was happy, though painful the thought of the prospect before
her at least of leaving the humble roof, even in that seclusion, dear to
her by so many pleasing recollections, and of leaving a father, mother
and broth er, to find another home for herself, at the tender age of
sixteen years. But she was prepared, and well prepared, for the task.
Her mind was forti fied by virtue's shield, and well she knew the
prayers of her parents, and Marcus, would daily meet her own at the
sacred altar, for her protection. Thus was she happy in the anticipation
of the journey of the next day, and we leave her, simply remarking, that
no life can be truly happy unless it is approved of virtue.
CHAPTER II.
She left her home she left her friends,
To act her part upon Life's stage;
While beauty its effulgence lends,
At "sweet sixteen's" precarious age.
THE shades of night had disappeared, and Aurora had taken her seat in
her oriental chariot, while Sol, her grand representative, by his smiles,
chased every cloud from the horizon, and bade the flower and bud
unfold their beauty, to add fresh fragrance to the sparkling dew-drops,
to unfold their chalices again, and to pay their tribute to the Power
which planted them, caused them to vegetate, and painted them in all
their variegated and beautiful hues.

Again were heard the merry notes of some favorite air, as the farmer,
whistling joyfully, as the feast of a contented mind, took his may to the
field, to commence the labors of the day, and an imated nature in all its
varieties, found a tone to echo in the glad strains which characterize
rural life. All was life and animation, and beauty crowned the scene, as
the dew-drops, like crystals, sparkled from their thousand petals, while
the forest, the hill, and the vale, were attired in their livery of green,
wrought in multiform varieties by the hand of Nature.
But while yet the morning twilight lingered in the chambers of the east,
Calliste had offered her devotion to Heaven. She had arisen and gone
forth to walk, and to catch the rich perfumes of myriads of flowers,
borne on etherial wings, while she sought the invigorating and salutary
influence of the salubrious atmosphere of her native hills, once again,
ere she left them for other scenes.
All things were ready for her departure, and she felt a mixture of joy
and grief rising in her breast joy in the anticipation of the accomplish
ment of her object, and grief at the thought of the separation which
must take place between herself and those near and dear to her heart;
and in consideration of the many temptations and dangers to which a
city life renders the young and inexperienced subjects.
She returned, and as the happy family of which Calliste was a much
loved and worthy member, seated themselves once again together
around the humble board to partake of the bounties of providence, and
then gathered around the family altar, to join in a song of praise, and to
bow in humble prayer before the Majesty of Heaven, no wonder if
Calliste felt indeed a pang at the thought of separation. It is natural to
humanity to desire that those scenes in which we take the most in terest
may be perpetuated, and the hour which is to sever us from our highest
enjoyments, must necessarily bring with it, unwelcome feelings to the
heart. But Calliste had formed her resolutions, and resolved to bear the
pang that separation must occasion, with a firm courage, and to that end
had resolved to appear cheerful. She wore a gem that is the safest
helment the best shield and that gem she trusted to preserve her from
every snare, and enable her to resist every temptation. It was the gem of

virtue, gentle reader, crowned by true piety. This is the defence of the
heart, the safeguard of the graces and accomplishments of the mind,
and the beauties of the person.
The hour had come when the adieu must fall from lips unaccustomed to
speak the word. The last counsels of tender parents had been given, and
Calliste had been commended to God. The stage coach was at the door,
and she must go. Then did the reality burst upon the mind of the fair
one, and almost did she regret the step which she