The Factory Girl | Page 8

the result of that instruction alone, could prepare Calliste to encounter the vicissitudes and dangers of a city life. And that a mind adorned with the graces of virtue and religion, shines conspicuously and with true beauty in society, no one can deny; for daily observation teaches us that we may find in the humble and unpretending mind those accomplishments so desirable, which cannot be found in the gay and fashionable ranks of society.
There is, indeed, true beauty in Humanity; and this garment becomes every one, for though this favorite grace of virtue, the light of every other accomplishment, shines with brighter lustre, we love the unpretending and unobtrusive violet, not so much for its superior beauty over other flow ers, but as an emblem of an accomplishment that is the immediate jewel of our hearts whose radience beautifies every other grace it is humility. This grace, so conspicuous in the character of the parents, was not less so in the mind of Calliste, and to this source may be traced her pre-eminence for intellectual worth.
This ever proves a gem serene,
Still loved the more, the more 'tis seen;
And in the halo of its flame,
All other graces find a name
A name to live when pride shall die,
And royalty forgotten lie;
This, ever still the same shall be
Gem of the heart, Humility.
Indeed, surrounded by such scenes, and in a rural seclusion which furnished so many lessons in the changes of Nature, and being blessed with so excellent precepts and examples, from a source which of all others is calculated to gain attention, we may justly suppose that the mind of Calliste, though still young and highly susceptible, was far better prepared for the active scenes and vicissitudes of life, than those whose passions are unrestrained, and who are not blessed with that salutary and hallowed influence, which flows from paternal love and solicitude. We may anticipate, indeed, in a great measure, the future character of the mind, from the nature of the early impressions which that mind receives for it will receive impressions of some kind very early in life. How important that they be of the right kind?
But to return from our digression, which we trust the reader will pardon. Such was the home of Calliste, which she had left; and who will be surprised, if, on leaving the scenes of her child hood, and the tender associations of such a home, she had, from an overflowing heart, suffered the tear to fall upon her fair cheek at the separation? The stranger can feel none of that deep sympathy for a fellow being that characterizes the hearts of kindred spirits, though benevolence, and what the world calls sympathy, come to our relief in the hour of trial. And, however humble, home is dear to us, though its value is never sufficiently realized until we are deprived of it, and find our selves surrounded by strangers. Then, all those scenes so dear to our hearts, rush upon the mind, and cause the dim cloud of sorrow to overshadow every pleasure, and transform it into pain. With home, we have very many blessings. No friendly admonition will the stranger give us, no warning voice do we hear from those whose chief aim is self-interest; and when sickness comes, no tender mother, like a guardian angel, is at hand to soothe each sorrow, and relieve each bitter pang. O! ye who are blessed with a home, however humble your lot, forget not that you cannot be too grate ful for the blessings you enjoy, or prize them too highly; for never can you know their value, till thrown in the midst of new associates, with none to care for your welfare, or protect you from the dangers which surround the young, especially the unsophisticated and confiding. For,
Too oft, alas! the smile allures,
And flattery, a curse ensures;
Too oft is confidence betrayed,
To land a victim in the shade!
And false Deceit, with Love's young trust,
Tramples the flowret in the dust!
CHAPTER IV.
Why, when the world is locked in sleep,
Should this pale student vigils keep?
To study thus, why should he care?
A sister's love had placed him there.
IT was the silent hour of midnight, late in autumn. The shrill blast whistled around the cottage, playing a lively jig with loose shingles on the roof, and anon moaning, as if repenting of the results of its fearful mission. A thick veil of clouds hung over the scene, and a deluge of rain, mingled with sleet, fell in fearful rapidity upon the frozen carpet of earth, and at that time, when, save the commotion of the elements, all was silent as the sub-marine cavern, the clock upon the an cient dome pealed the hour. Locked in slumber, all, save the minds which can appreciate the value of the "noon of thought," were enjoying