THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 
 i 
 
 , '
 
 A.. &. 
 POPULAR NOVELS. 
 
 All bound in cloth, uniform with this Volume, Price $1.50 
 
 I. LOOKING ABOUND. 
 H. A LONG LOOK AHEAD. 
 
 HI. I'VE BEEN THINNING. 
 
 FV. TRUE TO THE LAST. 
 
 V. THE STAB AND THE CLOUD. 
 
 VI. HOW COULD HE HELP IT. 
 
 VH. LIKE AND UNLIKE 
 
 VHI. TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED. 
 IX. TIME AND TIDE. 
 
 " There are few writers of the present day who excel this charming 
 
 author in pure simplicity of style, and natural interest, and 
 
 truthfulness of narrative. In thousands of families 
 
 his books are read, and re-read with profit 
 
 and ever increasing delight." 
 
 Copies will be sent by mail/ree, on receipt of price $1.60, by 
 
 Carleton, Publisher, 
 New York.
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 BY 
 
 A. S. ROE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "A LONO LOOK AHEAD," I'VE BEEN THINKING," " TRUH TO THE LAST.' 
 
 "THE STAR AND THE CLOUD," "HOW COULD HE HELP IT," "LIKE AND 
 
 UNLIKE," "TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED," " TIME AND TIDE, ETC." 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 CARLETOJY, PUBLISHER, 413 BROADWAY. 
 1865.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1865, by 
 
 G. W. CARLETON, 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York.
 
 'PS 
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 
 
 It was in the early part of June, in the year 18 , on a 
 beautiful, calm, clear night, a gentleman was walking 
 down Maiden Lane in the city of New York, towards the 
 East River. He seemed in no haste, although the evening 
 was somewhat advanced ; for as he passed along at a 
 steady, measured gait, he turned his gaze towards the 
 windows of the stores not yet closed on either side of the 
 street, and sometimes almost paused to notice the manner 
 in which the clerks of those establishments that were 
 about closing for the night, fixed the long shutters to 
 their windows, and swung round the heavy cross bars to 
 secure them in their place. He was evidently a stranger 
 to the city, or an occasional visitor there, who wished to 
 notice the maneuvers of this mart of industry and wealth 
 by night as well as day. 
 
 He was of portly size, although by no means gross in 
 appearance, well formed, and well dressed ; and the as 
 pect of his countenance calm and dignified, and as a fair 
 view of it could be had occasionally by the light from 
 some window in which the lamps yet glared brightly, one 
 who might be passing him would possibly have -been 
 struck with the brightness of his eye, and manly pro 
 portions of the whole face, and if he thought of the mat 
 ter at all, would have said to himself, " a Washington 
 countenance," and would very likely, after passing, have 
 turned round to take a look at the personel and his bear 
 ing. 
 
 1608891 '
 
 6 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 As the gentleman reached the Old Fly Market he left 
 the side-walk and entered it; It was not a market night, 
 the stalls were empty, and the lamps that were hung oc 
 casionally through its whole length, showed that every 
 thing had been scraped and swept, in readiness for the 
 morrow. As he reached the middle of the first 
 market he suddenly stopped, and fixed his gaze intently 
 upon one of the stalls. It was not open as most of the 
 others, but enclosed from the street by a canvass cloth, 
 probably an awning let down for the night, to secure it 
 from the effects of a storm when its owner would not be 
 there to haul it in. It served now however the purpose 
 of a screen from the street, and had been selected by 
 some person, homeless no doubt, as a resting place for 
 the night. If the gentleman had not been a stranger in 
 the city, a mere glance of the eye would probably have 
 been all the notice he would have taken of the circum 
 stance, as it would be no unusual sight to a citizen to be 
 hold one of the thousands, who have no permanent abid 
 ing place, taking advantage of any spot that might afford 
 some little protection from the weather, or the public gaze 
 to secure his rest for the night. The eye of the 
 stranger however, unused to such scenes, was riveted for 
 a few moments, and then he deliberately walked up to 
 the side of the stall. The light from a lamp enabled him 
 to notice distinctly the appearance of the person. He 
 was a youth a mere boy well dressed and with a 
 prepossessing countenance, his complexion fair and deli 
 cate, his eye bright and his other features well formed, 
 and when, as the gentleman came up, the boy raised 
 his face up towards him and smiled, there was an expres 
 sion of beauty not often see'n in one of his sex. He was 
 sitting upon the block of the stall, with his back leaned 
 against the plank partition that separated the stands, a 
 small bundle lay beside him, and his cap on the top of 
 it. 
 
 As the youth looked up at the gentleman he smiled, and 
 in a pleasant voice said, 
 
 " Good evening, sir." 
 
 " Good evening," said the gentleman in reply, and for 
 the moment said nothing further, he seemed confounded
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 7 
 
 at the apparition be had so unexpectedly encountered. 
 At length, in a mild tone of voice he asked, 
 
 "My boy, you are not intending to pass the night 
 here ! " 
 
 " I should like to, sir if you have no objections," doubt 
 less thinking the gentleman had some right there, or was 
 a person of authority. 
 
 " I have no right," the gentleman replied, " to interfere 
 with your purpose, but have you no home here ? " 
 
 No sir." 
 
 " No friends in the city ? " 
 
 " No sir." 
 
 " Have you no means to procure lodgings ? " 
 
 " I have a little money with me, but thought I had bet 
 ter keep it, as I may need it for other things." 
 
 After deliberating with himself a few moments, again 
 the gentleman said, 
 
 *'I do not like, my boy, to leave you here alone all 
 night." 
 
 " Oh, sir, I am not afraid." 
 
 " Perhaps nothing may harm you, but there are rude 
 people around at night in such a large city as this." 
 
 " I don't think sir they would hurt me. God will 
 take care of me will he not, sir, if I ask him? " 
 
 The face of the gentleman immediately flushed, he 
 seemed much excited, and it may as well be told here, he 
 was a minister of the gospel ; and one who not only exer 
 cised the pastor's office, but he had a true pastor's heart ; 
 here was evidently a lamb of the flock, and how could he 
 see one of the Saviour's little ones thus exposed, and pass 
 on and leave him? He would sooner have spent the 
 night on that stall with him. 
 
 "I cannot bear my child, to pass on and leave you here, 
 are you not willing to accompany me ? I can provide 
 you a better place than this." -^i' 
 
 The boy looked at him as though in doubt as to the \ 
 propriety of trusting himself with a perfect stranger. 
 
 " You are very kind, sir. I thank you, but I do not \ 
 like to put you to any trouble." 
 
 " It will trouble me more to leave you here. I know the 
 city perhaps better than you do, it would really be a relief
 
 8 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 to me if you will consent, it shall cost you nothing, should 
 the watchmen see you here they might insist upon taking 
 you to the watchhouse and there you would be obliged to 
 remain through the night with all sorts of company." 
 
 "Do you think so sir?" 
 
 I do indeed." 
 
 " You are very good sir, if you really think it will be 
 best and that I shall not trouble you, I will go with you 
 sir." 
 
 " Come then," said the gentleman taking him by the 
 hand. 
 
 The boy caught up his bundle and walking beside the 
 stranger they emerged from the market and going a few 
 rods down Water Street ascended the steps of a three 
 story house ; the gentleman rang the bell. 
 
 As soon as the door was opened the gentleman said to 
 the servant, 
 
 " Can I see Mrs. Ketchum ? " 
 
 And when the lady entered the parlor he asked, 
 
 " Have you a spare room for the night, Mrs. Ket 
 chum?" 
 
 " I have not Mr. Ransom, the house is full, just now." 
 
 " Can you then madam make up a bed in my room ? on 
 the floor will answer." 
 
 " Oh yes sir, you want it for this boy ? " 
 
 " I do madam." 
 
 " It shall be ready in a few minutes." 
 
 And very soon the servant entered and announced that 
 the Rev' Mr. Ransom's room was in readiness. 
 
 The boy turned toward the Reverend gentleman a look 
 of confidence at the announcement of his title which almost 
 brought a smile over the face of the latter and he was 
 on the point of asking " is your father a minister ? " but he 
 feared it might lead to a long conference in explanation 
 of the peculiarity of his case and it was high time for 
 the youth to be asleep, he was evidently tired, this was 
 manifest in the short walk they had just taken together, 
 and in the slight limp of one foot, the reason for which he 
 gave was, "that his shoe had galled his foot." The gen 
 tleman had little doubt from reflecting on the matter 
 that there was some mystery about the boys situation,
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 9 
 
 the very fact that he was so reticent of his speech, so 
 careful of what he said and somewhat unwilling to be 
 noticed although modified by polite breeding assured him 
 that all was not right, and yet the acknowledgement of his 
 trust in God, something strange for one so young, inspired 
 the confidence that there must be good as well as evil in 
 the case. He surmised that the boy had walked far that 
 day, that for some reason he was thrown upon his own 
 resources, he was so careful of his money ; he was not one 
 that had been used to such a situation, he had not lab 
 ored as a boy of his age of poor pai-ents would have done 
 and his whole appearance and manners indicated refine, 
 ment and comfortable circumstances if not wealth in 
 those under whose charge he had been. As much time 
 would no doubt be required to sift out the truth, he 
 therefore concluded to let the boy go to his rest as soon 
 as possible and take the morning for explanations. 
 
 Mr. Ransom, for we may as well now call him by name, 
 was a settled clergyman and pastor of the church in 
 Woodburn, on the Hudson River. He was now in New 
 York partly for the purpose of laying in his supply of 
 family stores for the season, as he could procure better 
 articles and at a cheaper rate than he could in Woodburn 
 or its vicinity, and for the further reason that he found it 
 profitable occasionally, to exchange the quiet routine of 
 the country, for the bustle and variety of a large city. 
 He liked at times to throw himself into the magnetic whirl, 
 and catch its influence and feel the force of the mighty 
 current of earnest life, to witness the gigantic efforts re 
 quired at the centre of power, to give vigor to the whole 
 frame work of our social system, to behold untiring in 
 dustry and grasping enterprise in the very midst of their 
 work, hanging out their trophies of victory on every side 
 a healthful stimulus to the busy, toiling, struggling mass 
 es. He felt that it was good for him at times to be 
 where every step was quick and every countenance ani 
 mated with the eager pursuit of some supposed good, or the 
 speedy accomplishment of some grand design. He wished 
 to put himself in contact with the bustle of the city, as a 
 counteracting influence against the drowsy atmosphere 
 I*
 
 10 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 with which he was surrounded in the quiet, unruffled 
 steady movement of country life. 
 
 He had stayed his appointed time, and was about to 
 return home ; the evening had been spent in calls upon 
 some friends or rather acquaintance, whom he did not 
 care to leave without recognition ; and yet upon whose 
 hospitality he did not wish to throw himself during his 
 stay, he wanted to feel at liberty and therefore selected 
 for his stopping place, when there without the company 
 of his wife, a private boarding house in Water Street, 
 kept by a lady of respectability whom he had known for 
 some years. 
 
 Having completed his toilet at an early hour the next 
 morning the boy still asleep, he sat down to meditate 
 upon the circumstances in which he was placed in refer 
 ence to this youth, the thought of leaving him to be ex 
 posed to the same situation in which he had found him, 
 was too painful to be indulged a moment, and yet what 
 course should he adopt? Was it not his duty to remon 
 strate with him if he had unadvisedly left his home and 
 endeavor to persuade him to return ? But first he 
 must try to learn from the boy himself the peculiarities 
 of his situation. As the little sleeper lay in profound 
 repose he had a fair opportunity for examining his fea 
 tures, they were a model for a sculptor's eye, his hair was 
 not so light as he had imagined when he first saw him ; 
 it might be simply called brown with the slightest tinge of 
 auburn, it was silky like a girls, and disposed to cuiT, his 
 complexion very fair, his lips finely curved, his forehead 
 broad and high very much resembling in the whole con 
 tour of the countenance the pictures whether fanciful or 
 real of the boy Chatterton. 
 
 As the gentleman stood over him, he remembered that 
 the sloop in which he expected to sail for home that day, 
 started at an early hour, he must wake him, however un 
 pleasant to his feelings to disturb the sweet sleep he was 
 enjoying. 
 
 Giving him a slight touch the boy awoke. 
 
 " If you will get up now I will leave you for a few min 
 utes, dress as quickly as you can, for I wish to have some 
 conversation with you."
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 11 
 
 After allowing him a sufficient time to dress, Mr. Ransom 
 again entered the room, the boy was sitting by the win 
 dow, he arose as Mr. Ransom entered and walking to 
 wards him put out his hand which was kindly pressed, 
 liis eyes were filled with tears and his utterance broken. 
 
 " I thank you sir very much, for your kindness." 
 
 Mr. Ransom felt assured that his surmise in regard to 
 the youth was correct, he had doubtless in a childish freak, 
 left his home as boys sometimes are tempted to do, 
 possibly from reading stories of young adventurers into 
 the wide world, little knowing the terrible meaning 
 of that significant phrase. But he was now sensible of 
 his error and would no doubt be easily persuaded to return 
 
 " Sit down my son," Mr. Ranson said, " and I will take 
 a seat by the side of you, for I want to ask you a few 
 questions. And now did I understand you rightly the 
 last evening that you had no home nor friends in the 
 city." 
 
 " I have none in the city sir, nor any where else." 
 
 This reply startled Mr. Ransom, he began to fear that 
 some disease had affected his mind, that he was in fact de 
 ranged, he would question further. 
 
 " But you must have a home somewhere ! " 
 
 " I have a father's house sir, but it is no home to me." 
 
 " Is your mother living ? " 
 
 He put his hand into his bosom, and drew from thence 
 a locket miniature, and handing it to Mr. Ransom said, 
 
 "That sir is all I have left of her, she died some years 
 ago." 
 
 Mr. Ransom saw that it represented a lady of great 
 beauty, and with every mark of a lovely disposition ; and 
 he also noticed at once a striking resemblance between it, 
 and the living form beside him. 
 
 " Have you a step mother ? " 
 
 " I have sir, and she has driven me from my father's 
 house." 
 
 " Have you brothers, or sisters ? " 
 
 u I have two half sisters sir, younger than I am." 
 
 " Have you no relatives, on your mother's side ? " 
 
 " None that I know of sir, there may be some in Eng 
 land, but I have never heard of them."
 
 12 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " Have you no Uncles or Aiints on your father's side ? " 
 
 " No sir, my father was an only child." 
 
 Mr. Ransom paused a moment, and then fixing a firm 
 look at the boy asked, 
 
 " Does your father know of your leaving home ? or ra 
 ther did he consent to it ? " 
 
 " He told me to leave it sir." 
 
 " Did he tell you to leave it, because he thought it best 
 for you, under the circumstances ? " 
 
 " He told me to leave it, and never to darken his doors 
 again." 
 
 " You must have done something very wrong, or a 
 father could never have thus spoken to you." 
 
 " I suppose I did sir." 
 
 Again Mr. Ransom paused as though in doubt how to 
 proceed, the boy was apparently candid, and yet seemed 
 somewhat reluctant to' say more than he could help. 
 
 " My object in asking you these questions my boy, is 
 not for the purpose of gratifying my own curiosity, I 
 want to advise you, to help you, and I cannot do that 
 understandingly without knowing all the circumstances un 
 der which you have left your home. I want your confi 
 dence not for any benefit it will be to me, but solely for 
 your own good." 
 
 " I believe that sir." 
 
 " Can you not then tell me what you did to provoke 
 your father to wrath ? " 
 
 " I suppose it was what I said to my mother, but sir," 
 his voice trembled as he continued. " I could not hear 
 my own mother's name lightly spoken of, by her who 
 now fills her place. I would sooner die sir than hear it, 
 if it had been a man sir, I would have struck him, if he 
 had killed me afterwards." , 
 
 " It was not to your father then that you spoke the 
 words that caused his displeasure ; perhaps what you said 
 was told to him in a more aggravating form than you ac 
 tually used. 
 
 " That may have been sir, no doubt it was told in the 
 worst way possible ; but I told him myself, sir, just what I 
 did say, and I also said, ' that I thought he ought not to al 
 low my mothers name to be scandalized, and that I could
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 13 
 
 not bear it, and would not bear it ; that I would leave the 
 house if the words were ever repeated to me again,' my 
 mother sir was an angel, and I know she is in heaven 
 now." 
 
 Here his wrought up feelings caused him to pause, he 
 made no ado, but his face flushed, his. full lips trembled, 
 and the big tears rolled from his dark blue eyes. 
 
 Mr. Ransom began now to see how matters stood. This 
 boy had a high strung temperament, a warm and loving 
 heart, his father no doubt, high tempered too, and 
 either through fear, or the fascinating arts of his present 
 companion was under her influence. She was no doubt, 
 in most respects the opposite of her who had been his 
 first love. There are many such cases, and some judg 
 ment may be formed of the man's taste and character 
 by his latest choice. When there has been true affection 
 in the first bond, it can never again be satisfied but with 
 the nearest likeness to the lost loved one ; so that although 
 the same individual, may not be his companion through 
 life's whole journey, yet the same sweet chords will thrill 
 his soul along his varied path, which first awoke the pure 
 sympathies of his being. Mr. Ransom therefore formed 
 the opinion that the father was either a heartless man, 
 who had probably never married from affection at all, or 
 that his last choice was one that accorded with his views 
 and feelings. After being silent a few moments, at length 
 he said, 
 
 " You told me last evening that you were not in fear 
 of any danger, for ' God would take care of you,' you feel 
 then that you are so sure of being in the path of duty 
 that you can with confidence commit yourself to his keep 
 ing?" 
 
 " I cannot say sir. I hardly know whether I am right 
 or wrong, nor what I am to do, nor where to go. I have 
 no friend nor protector, and when I was in the market 
 last evening, I felt so lonely that I could not help crying 
 to God to take care of me, and I used the words I heard 
 my mother use, when I was standing beside her bed when 
 she was dying. She asked God to take care of me, and 
 then looking at me and squeezing my hand she said. " Wil 
 lie, God will take care of you."
 
 14 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 "Your name then is Willie ? " 
 
 "Yes sir." 
 
 " Do you feel willing to give me the rest of it, your 
 surname ? " 
 
 He hesitated a moment, and then replied, 
 
 " I did not know sir, but it would be better for me to 
 change my name. Do you think it would be wrong sir ? 
 would it be like telling an untruth ? " 
 
 " I do not insist upon your giving your name tome, 
 but whenever you are asked, and think best to respond I 
 should by all means give your true name, that would be 
 right, in the other case you are conscious of a doubt as to 
 its propriety, we should never do anything that our con 
 science does not entirely approve." 
 
 " My name, sir, is William Randolph Herbert. I thank 
 you sir for advising me, I will do as you say." 
 
 Mr. Ransom was about to ask him the name of the 
 place where his father lived, but forbore, lest the boy 
 should suspect he was seeking to gratify his curiosity, or 
 to take advantage of his confidence. 
 
 " And now William have you any objections to tell me 
 what you design to do ? what are your plans ? how are you 
 going to provide for yourself ? you have but little money 
 with you." 
 
 " I have thought I would try to get some situation 
 where I could earn my board, may be I could find some 
 place in a store, or I might get on board some vessel that 
 was going to sea, they take boys sometimes, do they not 
 sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, boys are often taken on board of vessels, but I 
 wish you would listen favorably to a proposal I have to 
 make to you. It seems you are yet undecided as to what 
 course you had better take, or what employment you 
 wish to engage in for life. Now 1 am about to return to 
 my home, and must depart soon after breakfast. I shall 
 feel very sad to go away and leave you alone in the city, 
 in your present condition. It is my wish that you should 
 go with me, and spend some days at my home, until you 
 have time to think over matters, and conclude as to the 
 best course to pursue. You will there, too, meet with a 
 lady not unlike the picture you have shown me, and I
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 15 
 
 think from what you have told me of your mother's char 
 acter, you may find some resemblance there too, you 
 shall come back to the city when you think best, and it 
 shall cost you nothing." 
 
 Mr. Ransom saw, before he had concluded this address, 
 that the boy was ready, and more than ready to accept 
 his offer, that is, so far as his feelings were concerned, and 
 yet when he had concluded, and awaited a reply, there 
 was no answer for some moments. 
 
 " You are very kind sir," at length he said. " I thank 
 you very much, may I ask you which way you travel in 
 going to your home ? " 
 
 " My home is up the North river, at Woodburn. I 
 shall go up in a sloop, you have no objections to a sail ? 
 I am a clergyman, and of course you may know, not bur 
 dened with wealth, but yet abundantly able to afford the 
 aid I offer you." 
 
 " Oh sir ! dear sir. I will go with you joyfully, but 
 can I be of any service to you ? I am willing to do any 
 kind of work." 
 
 " It was not for that, William, that I made the offer, 
 and yet it may be you will find something to do. We 
 will now go to breakfast." 
 
 " Oh sir, I have some crackers in my pocket, that is all 
 I shall want, I thank you sir, just the same." 
 
 " Yes, but my boy, it will not be best to make your 
 breakfast of crackers, when you can have something more 
 substantial, your crackers will serve you for a lunch on 
 board the sloop, you will find the salt water air quite a 
 stimulus to your appetite." 
 
 Putting his hand in that of Mr. Ransom's, without say 
 ing any thing further, they proceeded to the breakfast ta 
 ble. And there Mr. Ransom had a further opportunity 
 of noticing his attention to the little proprieties of life, 
 and he came to the conclusion, that although his home 
 might have had its deficiencies, yet in it, he had been ac 
 customed to the courtesies of polite life. 
 
 The more Mr. Ransom saw of this youth, he became 
 convinced, that he was one who could not endure severe 
 treatment ; he had strong and finely attempered feelings. 
 Under a mother's mild and loving nurture, he would be
 
 1 6 LOOKING ' ABOUND. 
 
 loving and obedient, but angry passions and a rebellious 
 spirit would be aroused, by the stern rebuke and violent 
 assault of a father. Fathers in general when excited by 
 some fault or delinquency on the part of a son, and use 
 harsh and imperious language, and utter violent threats, 
 are not to be charged with want of affection ; their severe 
 manner is often the result of deep interest for the child 
 they are reproving. The evil lies in a want of discrimi 
 nation, they do not study with sufficient care the peculiar 
 characteristics which distinguish their children. They 
 would have their sons grow up in their own likeness, no 
 doubt at the same time wishing that they may improve 
 upon it, and become wiser and better and more distin- 
 
 tuished than themselves. And when they behold a de- 
 ciency in the attainments of the child to their own, at a 
 corresponding age, or a perverseness of will which they 
 themselves never manifested, or a distaste for such pur 
 suits which they had been eager to engage in, discourag- 
 rnent comes over the parent's heart, they write bitter 
 things against the delinquent, their passions are roused, 
 they use harsh terms and perhaps endeavor by the rod to 
 amend deficiencies. But they consider not that each 
 child is a living soul, an emanation from a divine Hand, 
 and as such, is distinct from all other human beings. It 
 may indeed bear some resemblance to its earthly parent, 
 but in most essential particulars stands alone, alone in its 
 peculiar attributes, alone in its yearnings, its hopes and 
 fears, alone in its accountability to its great Creator. 
 There is* a passage in Ezekiel, which parents and more 
 especially fathers would do well to heed, " Behold all 
 souls are mine saith the Lord. As the soul of the fa 
 ther, so also the soul of the son is mine." If this truth 
 could be well instilled into every father's heart with 
 what different feelings would he regard the little one sit 
 ting upon his knee, and the youth walking by his side, 
 under God a guardian, the will of the great parent to 
 be paramount in all things. 
 
 As a ride of some miles was required after the sloop 
 reached her landing, e'er the end of their journey could 
 be accomplished, it was not until the afternoon of the 
 next day, that the carriage which had brought them from
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 17 
 
 the landing stopped at the gate of the parsonage, a lady 
 stood at the front door with a countenance sparkling with 
 joy, by many thought very comely, but to the eyes of one 
 beautiful beyond all others of her sex. 
 
 As Mr. Ransom led his young charge through the front 
 yard up to the house, his lovely wife fixed her eye steadi 
 ly upon him, trying no doubt to call to mind whom 
 among their friends or acquaintance, her husband had 
 brought with him to their home. 
 
 " 1 believe, my dear you will exert your memory in 
 rain to find out to what family of our friends this young 
 gentleman belongs. His name is William Randolph 
 Herbert, please welcome him to our home, for at present 
 he has no other." 
 
 " And that," said she, " I will do with good will." And 
 taking him by the hand, as he raised his fair face all aglow 
 with emotion up towards her, she saluted him as she 
 would have done a near relative. Aifected by the kind 
 ness of her reception the boy for the first time gave full 
 vent to a flood of tears. Mrs. Ransom still holding him 
 by the hand, led him into the snug quiet parlor, now fra 
 grant with the scent of early flowers, and in its simplicity 
 and neatness, more charming to the pastor's heart, than 
 any of the highly ornamented abodes he had visited in 
 the great city. 
 
 " William," said he as Mrs. Ransom left the room, " you 
 will remember I said that possibly you might find a simi 
 larity not only in personal appearance, but in manners 
 and feeling, to the dear mother you have lost, was I 
 mistaken ? " 
 
 " No sir, you was right, I think I could tell her every 
 thing I feel." 
 
 " And you can do so with the assurance that you will 
 be dealt with, in love and kindness."
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 As William seemed very anxious to repay the kindness 
 of his benefactor by active employment in his service, 
 Mr. R. gave him certain labors to perform in the garden, 
 and certain chores at the house and barn, and was much 
 pleased to observe, how regular he was in the performance 
 of them, and how much thought he exercised, in reference 
 to matters not immediately committed to him, he was not 
 careful merely to finish the work assigned, but seemed 
 ambitious to show, that he was equal to more than was 
 expected of him, he had, never before been accustomed to 
 labor of any kind, so he said, and it was no doubt true ; 
 for his hands were very soft and delicate, more like those 
 of a girl, than of boys in general. 
 
 It pleased Mr. Ransom greatly to perceive such a manifest 
 disposition to industry, for although it was not at all proba 
 ble the work he was doing would be that by which he was 
 eventually to obtain his living, yet the habit of being 
 usefully employed would be formed and that for a youth 
 is a great point gained, for industry and energy are the 
 mighty powers that ensure sucess. 
 
 He soon made it manifest that he was fond of horses, a 
 natural trait in boys, and one that should be properly en 
 couraged ; he was therefore allowed every opportunity for 
 horseback exercise, much to his gratification ; his highest 
 pleasure however was to drive in the chaise beside Mrs. 
 Ransom either in visiting friends or on errands to the store, 
 dne condition however being attached to his riding on 
 horseback or driving in the chaise, and that was that he 
 must take upon him, the grooming of the horse and learn 
 himself to saddle or harness him, this Mr. R. insisted upon, 
 for the reason that ignorance of such matters often puts 
 men to great inconvenience, occasions foolish blunders for 
 which they are subject to ridicule, and often serious ac 
 cidents and loss of life. A man who cannot harness his 
 own horse is not able to tell whether every thing pertain-
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 19 
 
 ing to his gearing is as it should be, and more casualties 
 occur from carelessness in that matter than from the gaiety 
 or perverseness of the beast. 
 
 Having examined him as to his attainments as a scholar, 
 his greatest deficiency appeared in writing and arithmetic, 
 otherwise for his age he had made respectable progress. 
 He was therefore allowed to spend several hours a day at 
 these exercises, for as he seemed desirous to become a 
 merchant in preference to any other calling, it was essential 
 that in these branches, he should be more particularly 
 perfected. 
 
 But the great question continually kept forcing itself upon 
 his benefactor, ought he to keep from his father all knowl 
 edge of the whereabouts of his child ? The opinion he 
 had formed of the character of the parent, did indeed offer 
 some justification for withholding this knowledge, still 
 lie very naturally feared he might have formed an errone 
 ous opinion ; general rules for making up a judgment in 
 such a case will not always do to act upon, it might be 
 that his father was as he had concluded a man of strong 
 passions, yet might be possessed of ardent affection, the 
 mother-in-law, he must think was a person of coarse man 
 ners, rude in speech, and with but little feeling at heart ; 
 but there must have been refinement somewhere, or this 
 boy would not be likely ^p show so clearly the marks of 
 the gentleman. At times he felt almost determined to 
 venture the responsibility of writing to the father, and 
 making a full revelation of the case ; and then the dread 
 of unpleasant consequences to the youth ; and the break 
 ing up of his present profitable course would for the time 
 silence all other consideration. 
 
 Some six weeks had now elapsed when one day his 
 wife said to him, 
 
 " Have you noticed any change in William of late ? " 
 
 " Do you mean as to his work or studies ? " 
 
 " No he seems as faithful at them as ever, and as affec 
 tionate and respectful, but I have fancied at times there 
 was something on his mind that makes, him feel sad." 
 
 " Can you wonder at that dear Emma ? The wonder 
 to me is that he has maintained such a quiet cheerful 
 manner. Sad indeed must the poor child feel when he 
 thinks of the past."
 
 20 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " You know dear husband we had come to the conclu 
 sion, that his father's treatment had entirely weaned him 
 from all regard to his parent." 
 
 " Yes, I know we have, and I felt grieved that it should 
 be so, a parent is a very solemn relation, and one that 
 cannot be slighted with impunity ; it is the one thing that I 
 fear in reference to the boy, it may prove a blight upon 
 his whole life." 
 
 " I should not be surprised if he begins to feel that he 
 has done wrong, and is in consequence unhappy. I have 
 ascertained some things from conversation, with him, that 
 have changed my opinion of the character of his father ; 
 I believe the child loves his father most tenderly." 
 
 " I am glad to hear that." 
 
 " I cannot remember all he has said, but I have drawn 
 the conclusion that the boy came away as much on his 
 fathers account, as for any other cause. I think it not im 
 probable that he saw that his being at home was a source, 
 of trial to his parent from the dislike of the step mother 
 it may have been that the poor man irritated by the 
 heartlessness of his wife, and perhaps too by some 
 thoughtless and hasty expressions of the boy and being 
 doubtless a man of strong passions, has spoken unadvi 
 sedly at the moment, and may be in great distress, 
 not knowing what may have befallen the child ; I think 
 dear husband you had better have a talk with William on 
 the subject." 
 
 This advice so accorded with his own views that Mr. 
 Ransom embraced the first opportunity of leisure so to 
 do, and found out from ,ihe interview with him some 
 things that threw new light upon the character of both 
 father and son ;j it will not be necessary to detail them 
 here but he came at once to the conclusion that it was 
 his bounden duty to see the father. Having learned 
 from William the name of the place where his home was 
 situated, he remembered that the pastor of the congrega 
 tion to which William's family belonged was an old col 
 lege companion ; and in fact one with whom he had been 
 on very intimate terms of friendship, but their spheres of 
 labor had only brought them into contact occasionally at 
 the meetings of general assembly. He resolved therefore
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 21 
 
 to make a visit to that gentleman, that through him he 
 might ascertain the true state of things, and with his ad 
 vice decide as to his future course in the matter. At first 
 he had some doubts as to his duty in revealing to Wil 
 liam the object of his journey, but finally concluded that 
 as it might be of the last importance to the child, that 
 he should have the most perfect confidence in him as a 
 friend, it would be better to tell him plainly his design, so 
 on the evening previous to his departure he called him 
 into his study. 
 
 " It is my purpose William, as you ah'eady know to leave 
 home on the morrow, have you any idea of the object I 
 have in view ? " 
 
 " No sir, I have not been told, nor have I asked any 
 one." 
 
 " I have thought much of your situation since the last 
 conversation we had, and it appears to me best, that your 
 father should no longer be kept in ignorance concerning 
 you, he may be very unhappy. 
 
 " I am afraid he is sir," his lip trembled and the tears 
 were gathering. 
 
 " You have no objections then to my seeing him, and 
 telling him how you are situated?" 
 
 " Oh ! no sir, but" and here he had to give way to his 
 feelings which were intensely excited. Nothing was said 
 for some time, not until he had regained in some measure 
 his natural composm-e. 
 
 " There seems to be some objection occurring to your 
 mind. Now iny dear boy I want you to be perfectly free 
 with me, and candidly confess the difficulty. You see 
 I have dealt openly with you, and told you what no one 
 else knows but Mrs. Ransom, as to my object in leaving 
 home, and thus I shall always deal with you, and shall 
 hope to have the same confidence reposed in me." 
 
 "Mr. Ransom," he said, looking fixedly at him, his 
 countenance all aglow with feeling, " I do want you to 
 see my father, and to tell him I ask his forgiveness for 
 what I said that displeased him, that I am willing, if he 
 says so to return home again, and suffer as I have done, 
 but Oh ! sir, if you can, do persuade him to let me try 
 and learn some business. I do not want to be idle, I
 
 22 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 want to learn to take care of myself, and to take care of 
 him. 1 will work all my life, I do not care how hard, if 
 I can only earn enough to enable him to feel that he is not 
 dependent on that woman for daily bread. Oh, sir, I 
 know I can do it." 
 
 Mr. Ransom was much affected by this appeal, and by 
 what was said at its close, there was such earnestness in 
 the whole manner of the boy, especially when he brought 
 out that fact in regard to his father's situation, it had 
 doubtless been long a burden and grief to his young mind, 
 one that he dare not reveal to his father, and of which 
 his father would no doubt, if possible, not be willing his 
 child should know, and perhaps supposed, had never taken 
 cognizance of. But children often see much further into 
 such matters than parents are apt to imagine, and it 
 would be well if they could bear this in mind, and re 
 member that they have about them a little band of im 
 mortal intelligences, observing minutely, pondering scenes 
 and circumstances and drawing conclusions, which may 
 indeed be erroneous, because not entrusted with the pa 
 rents secrets, but which are exerting an influence on their 
 future life; Here was a new feature in this case unfold 
 ed to view, that Mr. Ransom had not imagined ; in some 
 way the father was dependent on his second wife, and 
 doubtless he had been humiliated by it, and the sgn 
 had noticed it; a sore spot had been made in his young 
 heart, embittering his life, but awaking his mind to ener 
 getic daring, another instance of the double acting of 
 Divine Providence ; allowing evil for wise ends, and caus 
 ing it to result in good. 
 
 His benefactor was about to correct him for using the 
 term by which he had designated his mother-in-law, but 
 as it seemed such a natural outflow of the indignation 
 which had been aroused in his heart by the remembrance 
 of scenes he had witnessed, and as his usual appellation 
 had been respectful, be thought until he should know 
 more of the whole case he would refrain. 
 
 As it occupied a whole day to reach New York, Mr. 
 Ransom, of course, remained there through the night, 
 taking the Boston mail stage which left Courtland Street 
 at 8 o'clock the next morning ; there was but one passen-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 23 
 
 ger besides Himself that started from the stage house, so 
 they sat together on the back seat. Befoi'e the former 
 gentleman got in, Mr. Ransom had an opportunity to 
 notice his appearance, for he was conversing earnestly 
 with two men who seemed to be police officers. The 
 gentleman was more than ordinarily a fine looking man, 
 the expression of his countenance bright and intelligent, 
 his eye extremely penetrating, and the form of his features 
 regular, and handsomely moulded. As he entered the 
 coach and took his seal, his salutation was courteous and 
 his whole aspect that of a gentleman, and Mr. Ransom 
 felt rather pleased to have such a seat companion, for al 
 though he only anticipated a few hours' ride with him, 
 
 the town of the place of destination, being at no 
 
 great distance from the city, yet the few hours might be 
 pleasantly beguiled in converse with a person of intelli 
 gence such as he judged the gentleman to be. As the 
 stage passed up Broadway, however, the stranger kept 
 his head constantly in the direction of the street on the 
 side of which he sat and very often peering through the 
 other side, as though earnestly searching for some person 
 or object ; it was not a look of mere curiosity or amuse 
 ment, for his countenance manifested deep anxiety. As 
 the gentleman was too intent upon his object, whatever it 
 was, to seem at all disposed for conversation, the two rode 
 on in silence until the city and its suburbs were passed, 
 and the more open country spread around on either side, 
 he then settled back upon his seat, heaved a deep sigh, 
 and leaning his head upon his hand, seemed as one under 
 the power of extreme dejection. At the first stopping 
 place two other passengers entered, rather rude looking 
 men as to their exterior although their behavior was 
 civil and becoming. After they entered, the gentleman, 
 perhaps conscious that the silence between him and his 
 seatmate, had been kept up quite long enough to be really 
 civil, and as Mr. Ransom had on his entering the stage, 
 made a passing remark, to show that he was ready to be 
 social, and to which he only replied to by a bow of the 
 head ; the other, no doubt, concluded that it was his place 
 to break the spell. And he did so by some remark that 
 gave food for conversation until the end of their journey
 
 */. *:* 
 
 24 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 together. The subject turned somewhat upon the mys 
 teries of Divine Providence, which the gentleman frankly 
 confessed were troubling his mind, and therefore, Mr. 
 Ransom, in the best way he could, endeavored, if not to 
 satisfy him, at least to^soothe and reconcile him to what 
 then might be incomprehensible. And he had the satis 
 faction of believing that his efforts" had not been in vain, 
 for when he left the stage, the gentleman gave him his 
 hand at parting and remarked 
 
 " I am sorry sir that our conversation had not commen 
 ced at an earlier period of our ride, but I trust I shall not 
 forget some views you have advanced." 
 
 Mr. Ransom landed at the tavern, and getting directions 
 to the parsonage, was soon receiving a hearty welcome 
 
 from his brother minister, the Rev. Thos. G and an 
 
 agreeable introduction to his accomplished and excellent 
 lady. As it was near the hour for dinner, of course no 
 revelation was made of the object of his visit, until the 
 
 meal was finished, when Mr. G invited his friend to 
 
 his study, for the purpose, he said, " of having a good 
 long talk over scenes in our college life," and as soon as 
 they were seated, he remarked, 
 
 "Brother Ransom, "this is a treat I have not expected, 
 you and I have spent some happy days together, little 
 thinking then what the cares and responsibilities of life 
 would be, which we were so eager to take upon us." 
 
 " But much happier with those cares and responsibili 
 ties than we were in those days of lightheartedness." 
 
 " Yes, yes, true, that is true, and yet one likes to take 
 a backward view sometimes, when the placid stream bore 
 us along so gently and the shores were so verdant and 
 picturesque and the sunshine was so cheering, and all na 
 ture in fact clothed in beauty." 
 
 " To us brother G the scene you describe has not 
 
 ended in disappointment, the stream has not launched us 
 into a dark and troubled sea, where our poor barque has 
 much ado to bear up against the raging billows." 
 
 " I tell you one thing, Brother Ransom, which I most 
 firmly believe, that more than half the fatalities attending 
 the voyage of life is owing to the unfortunate selection 
 of our companions on the way j or to drop the figure, full
 
 "*fc- 
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 25 
 
 half if not three quarters of a man's happiness and pros 
 perity here, depend upon what sort of a wife he has got. 
 Now I know cases where men who bid fair for usefulness 
 as Christians and as members of society in general, be 
 come nonentities, positively lost to all goodness, by con 
 nection with a weak, vain and unscrupulous woman ; and I 
 have known a man of fine intelligence, pure minded and 
 high minded, of refined feelings and with a large capaci 
 ty for the enjoyment of life, crushed to the earth, his sensi 
 bilities blunted, his high manly spirit brought down al 
 most to abject meanness, and every avenue to his earthly 
 happiness closed up, by a most unfoitunate connection 
 with a low minded, avaricious woman, whose power over 
 him is extreme, because unhappily she holds the purse." 
 
 " Plave you any such case among your own people ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, just such a case, and my heart bleeds for him 
 whenever I see him or think of him. He is now suffer 
 ing under a terrible calamity, brought upon him, I am 
 free to say, by the very cause I have alluded to." 
 
 " It is not idle curiosity, Brother G , that prompts 
 
 me to ask you the name of that individual ; if I mistake 
 not he is the very person on whose account you are in 
 debted for this visit, for although I have often designed 
 to call upon you, yet, as you well know, our spheres of 
 duty make such constant demands upon our time, that it 
 is no easy matter to whirl ourselves out of them." 
 
 Mr. G looked at his friend with great earnestness 
 
 while he was speaking, and was silent for a moment after 
 he had finished. 
 
 " My dear Brother Ransom, it would be in common ca 
 ses, as you well know, an ungracious thing for a pastor, after 
 illustrating a proposition by reference to a living example, 
 and in such a case as this, where I have used strong lan 
 guage in describing the situation of things, to expose the 
 name of the individual referred to, but as I know that 
 you have full as nice ideas of pastoral propriety as myself, 
 and will take proper care of the information, I shall cer 
 tainly not fear to answer your question." 
 
 " Let me help you out of that difficulty," Mr. Ransom 
 quickly said, "it is not necessary that I know to whom 
 2
 
 26 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 you referred. But have yoil a person a member of your 
 congregation by the name of Herbert ? " 
 
 " I have, do you know him ? " 
 
 " I do not, has he lost a son lately ? " 
 
 " He has, and terrible is the trial he is suffering on 
 that account. Oh, brother Ransom, can you give me any 
 information about the child ? is he alive or dead ? " 
 
 " He is alive and well, at least he was yesterday morn 
 ing when I left home." 
 
 " He is not at your home ! " 
 
 " Yes he is there, well and happy ; at least, as happy as 
 he can well be under his peculiar circumstances." 
 
 " How did he ever find his way to you ? " 
 
 "I found him, and learning some particulars from the 
 child ventured to take him to my home." 
 
 And then in brief, Mr. Ransom related the circumstan 
 ces which the reader already knows. Just then Mrs. G 
 opened the door and smiling pleasantly upon them said, 
 
 " Any secrets ? " 
 
 " None my dear," replied her husband, " but what you 
 may hear, come in by all means. What do you think? 
 the lost lamb has been found, and he is an inmate of 
 this dear brother's family." 
 
 " William Herbert at your home, Mr. Ransom ! Oh, 
 how rejoiced I am. But his poor father, does he know 
 it?" 
 
 " Not yet." 
 
 "Then, dear husband, you ought to go there at once ; 
 no time should be lost in relieving his mind ; he has suf 
 fered so much that I fear he will yet lose his reason." 
 
 "But first, Brother G ,may I ask you to give me a 
 
 sketch of this gentleman and of the peculiarities of his 
 situation, for although I wish to see him and to have his 
 mind relieved, yet that I may know how to deal with this 
 case, it is highly necessary that I know all the circum- 
 tances." 
 
 "Then Mrs. G will be the one to do it, as she is 
 
 more able to give full information than I am. She has 
 known him from her childhood." 
 
 And without hesitation the lady at once proceeded 
 with the narrative.
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 27 
 
 " When I was a little girl, Randolph Herbert was a 
 young man, and one that was thought much ol by all 
 classes of people. He was the only son of a gentleman 
 who was supposed to be wealthy, and no doubt was so 
 at one time, but in some way he lost a great deal of proper 
 ty, for at his death the estate was found to be much in 
 volved, and when settled up the son had merely the 
 homestead left, with a moderate sized farm attached to it, 
 and possibly a few thousands at interest. Randolph had 
 not been trained to any business, he had been through 
 college, but had learned no profession, perhaps he may 
 have spent some time in a lawyers office, and I believe I 
 remember hearing at one time that he was studying law, 
 but he could not have pursued the study very far he never 
 attempted to practice it. At any rate, his time was mostly 
 occupied in attending to his father's affairs, for the old 
 gentleman in the latter part of his life was feeble, and sel 
 dom went abroad ; and no doubt that was the reason why 
 the son remained at home during those years when most 
 young men are learning their life business. 
 
 At twenty-five he was remarkable for his fine looks and 
 for his sprightly and pleasing manners. He had, and he has 
 now, a proud bearing, but all who knew him then and 
 know him now, lay no such charge against him. He was 
 very high spirited, but I do not believe he felt himself 
 above any decent person. I think he must have been 
 thirty when his father died, and in two or three years af 
 ter that event, he became acquainted with a young Eng 
 lish lady at Boston, who having come to this country with 
 her father, who died and left her dependent, she became 
 a teacher of music, and when Randolph was introduced 
 to her was supporting herself by that means ; he was at 
 once attracted by her appearance, she was very hand 
 some, and moreover, had a most affectionate heart, and a 
 bright mind. He became warmly attached, and gaining 
 her consent they were married, and he brought her home. 
 William was their only child, to whom the parents were 
 devotedly attached, as well as to each other. The son 
 must have been seven years old when his mother died, 
 and the death took place at a time when the father had 
 gotten into some pecuniary difficulties ; for I remember
 
 28 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 that but a few days after the funeral, their place was sold 
 with all the furniture. Mr. Herbert with his little son 
 went to board in the outskirts of our town, and very near 
 to the house where he boarded, there lived a wealthy fam 
 ily originally from New Jersey, and of Dutch descent. 
 They were called wealthy, but they lived in a very plain 
 way ; they had an only daughter, quite good looking, but 
 of a weak mind, with a very slight education, and no 
 qualities that were likely to attract such a man as Mr. 
 Herbert, but probably finding himself poor and with no 
 knowledge of any business or profession whereby he could 
 gain a livelihood, he was on that account induced to pay 
 court to Annie Schmidt, and he succeeded. The parents 
 were not pleased, but as there was no help for it they 
 seemed to acquiesce. A place was purchased for them, 
 and a sum of money settled upon the daughter. And 
 when married they removed to it and there they live now. 
 But Mr. Herbert found that after all he was none the bet 
 ter off for having married a rich wife. The house and 
 lands were in her name, and to be solely at her disposal, 
 and if she had heirs they were to inherit at the death of 
 their mother if she died without heirs the property was 
 to go immediately to a family of her relatives ; the money 
 settled upon her was placed in the hands of trustees, who 
 were bound to pay the interest to her and to her alone. 
 This in most cases would have been of no consequence 
 at all ; any wife who deserves the name would have hand 
 ed it at once to her husband, but the lady was an excep 
 tion, and I do believe a very rare exception. She chose 
 to expend it for the family at her own will, perhaps at 
 first giving her husband a pittance out of it, but by de 
 grees even withholding that, and compelling a proud spir 
 ited man to ask her even for money to purchase the most 
 trifling article of dress. 
 
 " Stop, my dear madam," exclaimed Mr. Ransom in a 
 hurried manner. " I do not need to know any more of this 
 sad story. I comprehend the whole case. A man of any 
 spirit under such circumstances must be in a constant 
 ferment, and his temper liable to great outbreaks. I can 
 now undersand how it was that the boy chafed beyond
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 29 
 
 endurance hurled back upon the false mother terms of 
 reproach, and the father, irritated beyond endurance, 
 spoke harshly and unadvisedly to his poor, suffering 
 son." 
 
 " To us, Brother Ransom, who understood the circum 
 stances, it was no wonder that the boy ran away, but 
 most people in our town know nothing of the cause, 
 nor have any of them a suspicion that Mr. Herbert is held 
 under such bondage by his wife ; to me alone, and to Mrs. 
 
 G has he confided his secret heart trials, and we 
 
 know how to feel for him." 
 
 "And to make allowances for him." 
 
 " That is true. No doubt many think he leads an idle 
 kind of a life for a man of his abilities, and he does ; but 
 how is he now to help himself? He was to blame no 
 doubt, or his father was, that he did not learn some use 
 ful calling. He committed a great error no doubt in mar 
 rying a woman so unfitted to be his companion, and one 
 so unlike what he had once loved, but our errors bring 
 our judgments. If we could go through life without mis 
 takes, life would be much smoother with most people 
 than it is. But had we not better send for Herbert ? " 
 
 " To come here ! in preference to our going to him ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," replied Mrs. G -, on many accounts, and 
 
 especially for his sake, he may not wish it known that his 
 child has been found, for if a place could be procured for 
 him, I do think it would be better that William never 
 saw his home again." 
 
 It was therefore concluded that Mr. G should send 
 
 a line to Mr. Herbert informing him that a gentleman was 
 there, desirous of seeing him, and it was also thought best 
 that Mr. Ransom should break the news to him of his 
 son's welfare." 
 
 It was about the space of half an hour before the gen 
 tleman arrived, and Mr. G came up with him into the 
 
 study where his friend was in waiting. To the great sur 
 prise of both the gentlemen, and to Mr. G himself, 
 
 who introduced them to each other they had been stage 
 companions from the city that very day Mr. Herbert 
 was the first to speak. 
 
 u I did not anticipate this pleasure, my dear sir," em-
 
 30 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 bracing the hand of Mr. Ransom, warmly ; " some things 
 which you dropped in conversation have done much to 
 soothe mf mind, which for some time has been in a very 
 disturbed state. I see now, sir, that God may still be a 
 loving father, while obliged to lay his chastening hand 
 upon us, nor is it necessary for us always to suppose He 
 is angry with us because we are suffering under his rod." 
 
 " And especially so if we find the chastisement work 
 ing in us submission to the divine will. God mingles 
 judgments and mercies in His dealings with us, and by 
 both he tests our obedience. You say, my dear sir, that 
 for some time your mind has been in a very disturbed 
 state. I am a messenger of good tidings to you. Your 
 little son is safe and well." 
 
 The gentleman gazed at Mr. Ransom a moment as if he 
 scarcely comprehended what was said, and then clasping 
 his hand exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh God, I am a sinful man ! unworthy of this great 
 mercy ! Oh sir, you are indeed a messenger of good ti 
 dings; you cannot know the agony which has wrung my 
 spirit night and-day, for it was not merely the terrible 
 suffering on account of the uncertainty of the child's fate 
 oh, sir, it was something worse, far more poignant than 
 that. I was at the time almost crazed by other trials of 
 a personal nature, and the poor boy was deeply aroused, 
 himself; he spoke abruptly to me, and I answered him in 
 an angry and heartless manner. Oh, how heartless and 
 unlike a parent I acted ! My dear sir, you say he is safe 
 and well you know then where he is ? " 
 
 " He is at my own home, sir." 
 
 " At your home ! Oh how merciful ! how did he find 
 his way there ? God has indeed taken care of him." 
 
 "It was that same expression, uttered in all the confi 
 dence of a child in an Almighty protector, which deter 
 mined me not to leave him. I felt that he was a lamb of 
 the flock, and my heart yearned over him. He did not 
 find his way to me, but God directed my steps to him ; I 
 found him about to rest for the night, in a place where I 
 feared he might probably meet with rude treatment from 
 thoughtless boys or men, and said to him, 'are you not 
 afraid to trust yourself in such a public place through the
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 31 
 
 night.' ' No, sir,' he replied, looking at me quite earnest 
 ly, ' God will take care of me.' " 
 
 Here the father's feelings became too powerful to be re 
 strained. He first covered his face and gave full vent to 
 tears, sobbing under the agony of grief, and then arose 
 and paced the room, his hands folded on his breast, ex 
 claiming, " Oh my boy, my darling boy ; my Willie ! you 
 felt that your earthly parent had deserted you had. 
 turned you off had cast you upon the cold wide world ! 
 but blessed be God, you were able to repose on a Father 
 who never changes ; who never slumbers nor sleeps." 
 
 It was some time before he could compose himself suf 
 ficiently to resume his seat. Mr. Ransom did not attempt 
 to allay the storm of sorrow that was raging in the poor 
 man's breast, for he believed it would be better for him to 
 bear awhile the stings of remorse ; there is no way some 
 times but for man to suffer the bitter consequences of his 
 deeds, and often the surer way to give true relief, is to 
 hold up before the transgressor in vivid colors, the hein- 
 ousness of his offence ; that his spirit may be truly hum 
 bled, and prepared for that contrition of heart, which is a 
 token of forgiveness and the harbinger of peace. But Mr. 
 Ransom had not taken upon himself the part of a censor 
 or reprover, he merely designed to. give as clear a state 
 ment as possible, of the scene that transpired at the find 
 ing of his son. As soon as Mr. Herbert's feelings had be 
 come somewhat relieved, the suffering man resumed : 
 
 " Oh, sir, the way of transgressors is hard ; I am a great 
 a grievous sinner. I have departed from the Lord I 
 have broken my covenant with God his frown is upon 
 me it dries up my spirit, it throws darkness on every 
 avenue of my life ; it has blasted my hopes, frustrated my 
 plans, bound me in fetters galling to my spirit ; I cannot 
 break them, and I have no patience to endure them ; it 
 sometimes seems to me that hell has already begun its tor 
 ments, a foretaste of the coming wrath." 
 
 " Please stop, my dear sir, listen to me one moment ; 
 you forget what you said to me a short time since the 
 result of our converse this morning as we rode together 
 the Father loves still, even while he lays the rod upon 
 us. I know not wherein you have transgressed, nor how
 
 32 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 far you may have wandered from, the path of duty, nor 
 do I care to know ; it is quite sufficient that your own 
 conscience takes cognizance thereof; you have probably 
 not gone to greater lengths in sin than David did, nor 
 acted quite so base a part as Peter ; you have not denied 
 your master with an oath." 
 
 " No sir, but I have virtually denied him ; I have de 
 spised no I dare not say that either, I hope I have not 
 in my heart despised the ordinances of religion ; but I 
 have forsaken the table of the Lord ; broken my covenant 
 with God and with his church. Oh sir, the way of trans 
 gressors is hard ! the judgments of the Lord are heavy, 
 very heavy, hard to be borne." 
 
 " But can you not say, ' they are true and righteous al 
 together ? '" ' 
 
 " Yes sir, I know they are true and righteous, true and 
 righteous altogether; I most truly merit every stroke he 
 lays upon me. I know that it is my sin that has found me 
 out, the misfortunes of my life are not what some would 
 call mischances, or bad luck. Oh, no sir, could I believe 
 that, I might harden my mind against them, and bid fate 
 do its worst. But I know that I am smitten for my sins. 
 God has undertaken against me, every path I have taken 
 has led me in the way of His arrows ; every plan, no 
 matter how fair its prospects, has proved a failure, until I 
 seem caught in a net, where no effort I can make, gives 
 any hope of deliverance. I feel very sure, sir, that my 
 temporal trials are the issues of my spiritual obliquities. 
 Oh, sir, to feel that the heaven above you is brass, and the 
 earth beneath you iron ; because God is against you 
 there is the heart of the agony. It seems to me now that 
 if I could have one glimpse of a smile from God could 
 feel that my backslidings would be remembered no more 
 and that my Father in heaven was at peace with me 
 the trials of my life would be light as air. Oh, sir, if the 
 rod be necessary, I willingly bare my back to the stroke, 
 only could I know the hand of a loving Father held it." 
 
 " And my dear sir, do you not know that ? " 
 
 "I know that God is -love, but the great thing is to 
 know that He loves me ; oh, I have grieved him so ! " 
 
 " Still you pant for the light of his countenance ? "
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 33 
 
 " I believe I do, sir, as much as any poor chased deer 
 panteth for the water brooks." 
 
 " I can assure you, then, my clear sir, there can be no 
 stronger token that your Heavenly Father is not to you 
 an avenging God you do not fear His stroke, so much 
 you fear his frown." 
 
 " Oh, no sir, I know I do not." 
 
 "I might, my dear sir, go on and bring before you a 
 multitude of passages from scripture, to prove that my 
 assertion is correct, and if you were a novice in such mat 
 ters, I should feel it my duty to do it now, but the Bible 
 is before you, and I feel assured you are not unacquainted 
 with its contents. I refer you to it, therefore, with the 
 fullest confidence that you will find this doctrine clearly 
 revealed, ''the spirit of repentance is the token of forgive 
 ness? " 
 
 For a while Mr. Herbert made no reply, he was evi 
 dently pondering the truths which had been unfolded for 
 his comfort, and from appearances a happy effect was be 
 ing produced in allaying the turmoil of his spirit ; his 
 countenance assumed by degrees a more composed aspect, 
 and his nervous restlessness gave way, and he sat like one 
 whose whole being had been touched with the soothing, 
 healing hand of humility ; at length, turning toward Mr. 
 Ransom, in a voice somewhat broken, but soft and tender, 
 he said, 
 
 " I have much to thank you for, my dear sir, and do 
 most heartily bless God for the instrumentality He has 
 seen fit to use in this my extremity of suffering ; you have 
 been indeed a messenger from heaven to me and mine, 
 and now, my dear sir, I must take measures for relieving 
 you of the burden you have so generously taken upon 
 you, and at least compensate you for the expense you have 
 incurred in your deed of love. You think that Willie is 
 ready to return home ? " 
 
 " He told me to say to you, that he heartily asked your 
 forgiveness for any impropriety in his language, and if you 
 insisted upon it, he would return at once ; but he begged 
 me at the same time to use my influence to persuade you 
 to permit him to remain where he is, until such time as he 
 can be fitted for a situation in a store ; his mind is inclin- 
 2*
 
 34 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 ed that way, and he seems intensely ambitious to take 
 care of himself, and I have felt it my duty to encourage 
 that feeling ; half the battle of life is won when that spir 
 it possesses man or boy." 
 
 You are right there, sir. Oh that I could gratify the 
 dear boy, and comply with his request, it would be the 
 highest wish 9f my heart, but my dear sir, I must not hide 
 from you my situation. I am in reality a poor man, al 
 though surrounded with apparent means. I cannot pay 
 the charges which would be necessarily incurred by the 
 plan he proposes. Two years at least must pass, before 
 he would be old enough to be of such service as would 
 be equal to his board." 
 
 " If that is all the difficulty, my dear sir, it is soon got 
 over ; he would remain with me, until a situation could 
 be obtained for him." 
 
 " That would certainly meet my views, I could wish 
 him under no better care ; but the obstacle, my dear sir, 
 is insurmountable it is not in my power to pay for his 
 board. If it could be done by personal sacrifice on my part, 
 I should not hesitate a moment ; but I see no way to do 
 it." 
 
 " Well, sir, perhaps you think my interposition in be 
 half of your dear child, and my care for him thus far, en 
 title me to the privilege of asking a favor from you." 
 " Any thing in my power to grant." 
 " Then, sir, I ask in behalf of myself and my dear wife, 
 who has become equally with myself attached to the boy, 
 that you allow him to remain with us, free of any charge 
 to you; his education preparatory to a mercantile life, 
 shall be attended to, and I doubt not my influence with 
 friends in the city, will enable him at a suitable age to 
 procure a proper situation." 
 
 " But, my dear sir, how can I do this ? knowing as I 
 do, that gentlemen of your calling are in most cases paid 
 only enough for a bare subsistence; it would be injustice 
 to your own family ; your generous feelings I cannot thus 
 impose upon." 
 
 " Set your mind perfectly at rest on that point, Mr. 
 Herbert ; I am not rich, neither am I very poor. I have 
 hitherto by prudent care in such matters, been enabled
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 35 
 
 not only to live comfortably, but to keep something in re 
 serve for an emergency. I have never yet been strait 
 ened for the want of means to supply the necessaries and 
 real comforts of life, and I never allow my generosity to 
 go ahead of my ability ; but aside from this, sir, your lit 
 tle son will not be so dependent as you' may imagine ; in 
 many ways his great desire to be useful, and to prepare 
 himself for the struggle with life, enables him to be of 
 real service, and as I have said, 1 encourage that spirit 
 in him, because I look upon it as the germ of future suc 
 cess ; the ambition of the boy, becomes the energy and 
 determination of the man." 
 
 " Oh, sir, can all this be so ! and has my Willie been 
 thus taken from my hands, and the little castaway been led 
 by the hand of his Heavenly Father to the care of those 
 much better fitted to make him happy and useful ! His 
 young heart has not trusted God in vain. Oh, sii-, keep 
 him if you say so, and may your guidance direct him into 
 a happier path than his poor father has taken." 
 
 " But that path, my dear sir, is not, I trust, to be so dark 
 as it has been ; hereafter I hope there will be brighter 
 hues tinging its edges. ' When He giveth peace who can 
 make trouble then ? ' " 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 As the Rev. Mr. Ransom will have more or less to do, 
 in many of the scenes in this story, the reader may very 
 naturally desire to know something more about him per 
 sonally. 
 
 When the Rev. Robert Ransom was called to settle 
 over the parish of the Presbyterian church in Woodbum, 
 N. Y., he was a little past thirty-three years of age, and 
 had been by some thought rather dilatory in taking hold 
 of his life work ; he had been studying for the purpose of 
 preaching the gospel they said he had been a long time
 
 36 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 doing that, much longer than young men in general ; why 
 then should there be further delay after his course of study 
 was through, when ministers of the gospel were so much 
 needed ! " But Robert Ransom had formed the idea, that 
 preaching the gospel in our day, and among a people al 
 ready believers in its main facts, needed something more 
 by way of qualification for the work, than a smattering 
 knowledge of the outlines of theology, and having that 
 idea fixed in his mind, he went steadily on with the plans 
 he had laid out, listening to the advice of companions 
 and friends, but giving the same reply to all. 
 
 " I look upon the ministry as my life business, and feel 
 that the time spent in laying the foundation, and in being 
 suitably prepared for my work, will enable me to accom 
 plish more in a given number of years, than I could pos 
 sibly do, by being obliged to learn some of the principal 
 duties of my calling after my settlement ; if I begin weak 
 I should probably go hobbling all the way through, ray 
 labors a drudgery to myself, and not very profitable to 
 others." 
 
 " But," they reply, " here you are now twenty-eight or 
 twenty-nine years of age; you have completed your 
 course, and are licensed to preach. Sinners are dying 
 around the church needs your help many societies 
 are vacant you can easily get a call the best of your 
 days are passing away." 
 
 " I agree to all you have said, as true," he answered, 
 except the last idea. I think the best of my days for use 
 fulness, will be those in which, as a master workman who 
 needeth not to be ashamed, I shall be employed in car 
 rying out plans of usefulness which have been laid before 
 hand. If I am to be at the head of a people, I want to 
 be able to lead them, to command their respect, not only 
 for my station, but for my knowledge. If I am to write 
 sermons, I want to have my mind so accustomed to ana 
 lyze and unfold, and illustrate a subject, that I shall not 
 feel my weekly duty a task, but rather a pleasure ; and 
 besides all this, I want to learn a little more than I now 
 know about mankind and the world in general. I must 
 get a little common sense, to carry Avith me into the pul- 
 pit, and among the people of my charge, if I mean to do
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 37 
 
 them any good, or prevent myself from becoming a sub 
 ject of criticism, and even ridicule." 
 
 And Robert Ransom persisted in carrying out his plan, 
 as preparatory to his final settlement. He had begun 
 quite early to teach, and had by means thereof paid his 
 way through ; his course at college and in the seminary 
 was protracted beyond that of his compeers, many of 
 whom were not only through with their studies, but marri 
 ed and settled, and through with their labors among the first 
 people of their charge, and on their travels to hunt up 
 some other sheperdless flock. Teaching he found profit 
 able in more ways than one ; it enabled him to become 
 more thoroughly and practically acquainted with the clas 
 sics, and other branches of knowledge which he had pur 
 sued at college ; it also assisted him in learning how to 
 gain access to the minds of youth, and the best way of 
 gaining their confidence and respect ; and finally it en 
 abled him to live independently, and to lay by something 
 every year, so that by the time he had reached his thirty- 
 third year, he owed no man any thing, and had one thou 
 sand dollars at interest. Now this he had acomplished 
 by industry and prudence in a legitimate way, and while 
 at the same time pursuing such a course of reading and 
 study that few men of his own age, could make them 
 selves more engaging in conversation on general topics, 
 or in unfolding and elucidating the word of God. He 
 was not possessed of genius or brilliant talents, yet his 
 mind had a freedom and elasticity that all who came in 
 contact with him felt and acknowledged. He had become 
 a power in the world, perhaps not destined to exert an ex 
 tended influence ; that he left to God, but no matter how 
 small, or how extended the field of labor to which he 
 might be called ; he would be felt as a master spirit equal 
 to his position, a real pillar to the church, a true guide and 
 a firm support to those over whom he might be placed in 
 charge. 
 
 His personal appearance was rather commanding of 
 full ordinary stature, with a pleasing countenance although 
 that had some marks of sternness, just enough to warn 
 those who might be disposed to trifle with him, or the 
 cause he advocated, that there might be some danger in
 
 38 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 so doing ; his manners were courteous, without any of 
 that fawning politeness which too many ministers of the 
 gospel manifest, as though they felt it a great privilege to 
 be allowed to exist at all, and as if they must be very 
 careful to offend no one, lest umbrage might be taken, and 
 the good will of those they depended on for a support be 
 lost, and then what should they do ! Mr. Ransom loved 
 his work, and went straight forward in the plan laid out 
 by him for doing it, without stopping to ask whether this 
 or that course would be agreeable, or whether his people 
 would bear such and such a strain upon their sensibilities. 
 He had used his commou sense in mingling with man 
 kind, and was wise erjough to know, that a good doctrine 
 may be so constantly and strenuously insisted on, as to 
 pall upon the ears of even the best of people, and that to 
 accomplish the end of preaching, he must get hold of the 
 heart, which could not in most cases be effected by mere 
 declamation, no matter how forcible the voice, nor how 
 repeated the dogmatic utterance. In fact he judged his 
 audienc"e by himself; if his own heart deeply sympathiz 
 ed in the subject, and guided his thoughts and his pen, if 
 the words he uttered stirred the depths of his own soul, 
 he believed they would not fall upon the ears of others, 
 like the jingle of an old song that has lost its power a 
 weariness or a lullaby. 
 
 Mr. Ransom was in his. thirty-third year when he re 
 ceived his call to the church at Woodburn ; he was not 
 looking for a place, but as he had for a year past been em 
 ployed almost every Sabbath in supplying vacant pulpits, 
 while having the charge of a large school, it happened 
 that on several occasions, he had preached at Woodburn, 
 and on each successive occasion won more and more the 
 confidence and interest of the people, until at length he 
 was waited upon by a committee of the session, with the 
 report of a unanimous call. 
 
 Having made up his mind that so far as he could him 
 self judge, the time had come when he could with some 
 assurance take upon him the responsibility of a pastor's 
 duties, he of course was ready to hear the proposals. 
 
 " Mr. Ransom, perhaps as you know we are not a weal 
 thy people," this was said by one of the committee.
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 39 
 
 " I have not thought of that matter, sir, nor can I well ^ 
 see what bearing the question has upon the subject before 
 us." 
 
 " Oh, well sir, so far as this, you may think the salary 
 smair, and so it is, but sir, although we are in general a 
 plain people, in fair moderate circumstances, yet there are 
 some few pretty wealthy folks, and as they have takn a 
 notion to you, we have no doubt they would subscribe 
 quite liberally, that is one side of the salary ; and no doubt 
 you would receive some pretty handsome presents, in the 
 course of the year, so that take it altogether, perhaps you 
 would find as good pay for your services here, as in most 
 places in the country." 
 
 Here it was that Mr. Ransom was enabled to bring his 
 practical acquaintance with mankind to bear happily on 
 his own mind ; he did not allow himself to be offended 
 by the suggestions of the gentleman. The idea he knew 
 was a very general one, that the pulpit was sought as a 
 means of livelihood, too much occasion was constantly 
 given for such an opinion, he therefore, without taking 
 special notice of the insinuation, replied, 
 
 " In reference to salary, sir, I leave that to be determin 
 ed by the ability of the society, and through its regular 
 organization. I have not been in the habit of depending 
 on charitable donations, and do not intend placing myselt 
 in such a position if, by any possibility it can be avoided. 
 I presume the amount raised for the support of religious 
 ordinances, is done in the usual way either by a tax or the 
 rent of the pews." 
 
 " For some years it has been by a tax on the pews." 
 
 " And I presume you wish your minister to have a de 
 cent support, so that his mind may not be harassed by 
 the cares of life." 
 
 " That, I am pretty sure, is the wish of our people, but 
 somehow or other, sir, our salary does not seem to answer 
 that end, and we have had in general every two or three 
 years, to go round with a paper and collect quite a sum 
 that way, and sometimes we get up some kind of a party 
 a donation party, or some such thing for you see the 
 pastor had run up some bills at the stores, and he had no 
 means to meet them, and that you know was bad, but
 
 40 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 this plan don't always answer; people get dissatisfied, 
 and many of them who are the most able decline giving 
 anything ; they say, that considering there is a parsonage, 
 a decent house and a few acres of land, enough to keep a 
 horse and cow the year round, with a salary of seven hun 
 dred dollars a year, and perquisites occasionally, a minis 
 ter ought to live comfortably." 
 
 " But, sir," chimed in the other officer who had hither 
 to been silent, " I believe there is such a feeling in favor 
 of Mr. Ransom, that several of our able men will be will 
 ing to put their names down for quite a sum, so as to 
 make the salary all right, if that should be in the way of 
 the reverend gentleman's acceptance." 
 
 " I would merely say, gentlemen," replied Mr. Ransom, 
 " you are giving yoiirselves unnecessary trouble in refer 
 ence to the raising of money ; my determination to settle 
 here as your pastor, will be influenced by other consider 
 ations entirely. I am not willing to decide upon o\ir short 
 acquaintance that it is my duty to accept your invitation, 
 but I will engage to remain with you one year, and if at 
 the end of that term, the people shall be desirous that I 
 should be permanently settled, and I shall have a fair 
 prospect for usefulness here, then our connection may be 
 consummated, and as you say seven hundred dollars is 
 the sum raised in the regular way as salary, it will be 
 more than I shall need for the coming year, two thirds of 
 that sum will be quite sufficient." 
 
 As no objections could be made to such a proposal, the 
 matter was soon settled. 
 
 The next thing to be arranged was, as to his place of 
 residence ; he was unmarried, and although engaged, both 
 he and the young lady preferred putting of the nuptials 
 until he should be permanently located. Many families 
 among the people were quite anxious to receive him as a 
 member, but he preferred at once to take possession of 
 the parsonage, and all the aid he asked, was that a suita 
 ble person should be found to take charge of household 
 matters, and a young man to attend to such out door work 
 as the place required. 
 
 It was somewhat of a disappointment to those of the 
 congregation, who would have been willing to receive the
 
 LOOKING AROUND 41 
 
 young minister under their roof, as a member of their fam 
 ily, for the sake of the influence they might acquire over 
 him, and the opportunity of giving him advice, and warn 
 ing him against placing too much confidence in certain in 
 dividuals, and unfolding to him generally the personal 
 characteristics of those over whom he was to be placed. 
 But Mr. Ransom was not so young as to be caught in that 
 trap; he wanted no information about his people that he 
 could not obtain through his knowledge of human nature 
 in general. He determined to go in and out among them 
 free from all partiality or bias. His sole object being to 
 strengthen the faith of true believers and quicken them 
 to diligence in their path to heaven, and to win the im 
 penitent to the Saviour ; he wished for no knowledge of 
 their peculiarities, but such as he could ascertain by inter 
 course with them. 
 
 All along through the year the house and its premises, 
 by a very gradual process, kept putting on a more finish 
 ed and agreeable aspect. Every thing was straightened 
 and repaired, and without ado and at trifling cost ; it must 
 have been, for all was done without any call upon the 
 people. 
 
 " It looks," said one of the people to Mr. Bellows, one 
 of the leading men of the session, " as though our young 
 minister means to make a life stay of it ; he is getting 
 things into better shape than they have ever been in my 
 day." 
 
 " Yes, that is true, friend Ross, and to my mind things 
 are getting into better shape among us in every way." 
 
 " But what does it mean, Mr Bellows, that he is so in 
 timate with the Episcopals ? he and Mr. Janeway seem to 
 be as much together as if they had been old college 
 friends." 
 
 " Oh, I guess there will no harm come of it ; it may be 
 as you say, that they were old college friends. I guess he 
 will be careful." 
 
 This last sentence expressed what had been a general 
 sentiment among the people of both denominations, to 
 their shame, be it said. They each felt a shyness of the 
 other. There was no open hostility, but a distrust, which 
 separated them as Christians, and even tended very mate-
 
 42 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 rially to interfere and prevent social intercourse. They 
 never visited each other's place of worship, preferring even 
 to remain at home on the sabbath if their own pulpit was 
 not supplied, rather than engaging in prayer and praise 
 with those who merely differed as to forms of worship. 
 
 Now Mr. Ransom, in looking around at the condition 
 of things, noticed this circumstance, and without making 
 it a subject of remark, resolved, as he considered it an er 
 ror, to use his influence in having it corrected. 
 
 According to custom it belonged to Mr. Janeway to 
 make the first call, as he was already a resident of the 
 place when Mr. Ransom took up his abode there ; and no 
 doubt he would have done so 'at an early day had he not 
 been restrained by influences which had great power with 
 a sensitive mind. The reverend gentleman had, during 
 the period in which the Presbyterian parish was without 
 a settled pastor, taken the liberty occasionally of calling 
 upon some of the sick belonging to that denomination, 
 none particularly, but who happened to reside neaif to his 
 home. He called rather as a neighbor than as a minister, 
 but by some of the sick he was requested to have prayer 
 by their bedside, and that, with his Christian converse at 
 the time, tended to draw the hearts, not only of the af 
 flicted persons themselves, but of their families towards 
 the good man ; and it was taken notice of by some of the 
 leading members of the Presbyterian order, that it had 
 become quite a common occurrence for families living in 
 the vicinity of the Episcopal church, to step in there and 
 worship on the sabbath when the weather was not so fa 
 vorable for a walk or ride to a distance ; and to the shame 
 of poor human jiature it must be told that this circum 
 stance quite stirred up the minds of some more zealous 
 for Presbyterianism than for a catholic spirit, and they did 
 not hesitate to charge Mr. Janeway and his people, too, 
 " with a desire to proselyte and to win unto their ' godless 
 forms'"- the very expression they used "them who 
 belonged properly to another denomination." This of 
 course was not said immediately to the reverend gentle 
 man, but he had heard of it, and although he made no ef 
 forts to clear himself or his people from the charge, it made 
 him being of a modest and retiring turn of mind
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 43 
 
 very cautious in regard to such matters, and not knowing 
 how the new minister felt as to denominated differences, 
 he feared to do what his heart dictated as desirable. Mr. 
 Ransom, on the other hand, in the largeness of his views, 
 embracing his brother minister, and all his people as part 
 of the fold of Christ, did not dare to violate the usual 
 forms of social intercourse by calling first. Thus a dis 
 tance was kept up between the two young brethren, for 
 they were nearly of an age, for some time, and it would 
 probably have continued for years, if Mr. Ransom had not 
 resolved to do what was in his power to change such an 
 unnatural state of things. It was his habit almost every 
 afternoon to spend an hour or two in a ride on horseback, 
 and at such times he would call on some of the people of 
 his charge, and in that way accomplish two important 
 ends that of personal intercourse with individuals, and 
 the enjoyment of healthful exei'eise. One day, as he was 
 riding along a lane that led from the more public road to 
 a spot that afforded a picturesque view of land and water 
 scenery, and was at the same time secluded, so as to allow 
 one disposed for meditation, to enjoy the silent hour amid 
 the beauties of creation he had been there many times 
 and had never yet met any one on the road or in the vi 
 cinity stad it was a marvel to him why so charming a 
 spot should be allowed to remain unnoticed and unvisit- 
 ed. To his surprise, however, he now saw at some dis 
 tance ahead, a person going in the same direction with 
 himself. He Avas on foot and walking leisurely. It did 
 not take long so far to lessen the distance between the 
 traveler and himself, ere he could recognize the individ 
 ual. It was the brother minister, the Rev. Mr. Janeway. 
 As Mr. Ransom came up the two gentlemen politely ac 
 costed each other in the usual form, although neither made 
 any pause in his progress, with the exception that the gen 
 tleman who was riding, had brought his horse to a walk. 
 Springing from his seat, Mr. Ransom threw the bridle 
 over the saddle and chirruped to his beast, who at once 
 pursued his course leisurely along the road, leaving his 
 master at liberty, who at once offered his hand, which was 
 most cordially grasped. 
 
 " I think, brother Janeway, that providence has brought
 
 44 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 you and me in this narrow lane, to give us a fair chance 
 to be introduced by Himself, since no one else takes the 
 pains to do it for us." 
 
 " I am quite willing, I assure you, sir, thus to construe 
 our present meeting, and hope it may be the beginning of 
 a pleasant acquaintance." 
 
 " I see not why it should be otherwise ; we are fellow 
 laborers in the same cause, and as two are better than one 
 in almost any work, I feel as if each had a claim to the 
 other's help." 
 
 " I agree with you in that, sir, but had you not better 
 stop your horse, he may wander off." 
 
 " Oh, I presume he will stop when he gets to the end 
 of the lane, there is a spot in that vicinity I visit frequent 
 ly." 
 
 " From which there is so fine a view ? " 
 
 " You have been there, then ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, quite often, and am on my way there now." 
 
 " I wonder then we have not met before." 
 
 " I generally take the morning for my walk, but this af 
 ternoon thought I would try the effect upon the view of 
 a declining instead of an ascending sun. I have often no 
 ticed that a vast difference occurs in the aspect of the 
 same locality at different periods of the day." 
 
 " Yes, it makes a great difference at times which way 
 the shadows are cast. There is doubtless more brilliancy 
 in the views of nature in the earlier hours, but the chas 
 tened aspect she presents at the closing of day, seems 
 more peculiarly fitted to inspire calm and peaceful, and 
 heavenly thoughts." 
 
 " I have changed my views somewhat," said Mr. Jane- 
 way, " as to the influence of nature over us, since I have 
 had an opportunity to observe more closely the effect pro 
 duced upon those brought up and living in the country. 
 They seem, in general, obtuse as to any special charm she 
 .has to exhibit. For instance, I have remarked that few, 
 if any, of all those I have had opportunity to converse 
 with, seem to realize the quickening power of the fresh, 
 new life of the opening spring, nor 'the richness of sum 
 mer in its deepest verdure, nor to me stranger than all, 
 the full golden beauty of the mellow autumn. Why, sir,
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 45 
 
 persons have told me as I have been expressing my admi 
 ration of some view, more beautiful in its variety of 
 blended colors than painter's pencil ever delineated, " that 
 they did think it was rather pretty, but they had never 
 taken any special notice of the fact before." 
 
 "Nature, like the arts," replied Mr. Ransom, " must be 
 studied before a full perception of her relative beauties 
 can be enjoyed, the former however, in the spirit of the 
 old Jewish saints. To them Nature told of God. The 
 Heavens declared His glory, the clouds were His robes, 
 the lightning His fire, the thunder His voice, the earth 
 quake was caused by His touch, and the whirlwind was 
 His chariot. Oh, what a magnificent world it must have 
 been to those who were thus filled with the consciousness 
 of an Omnipresent and Omnipotent God. It seems to 
 me, brother Janeway, that we have got further away from 
 our God than the old Jews, although privileged with a 
 relationship of the most endearing nature." 
 
 " Perhaps, brother Ransom, not farther away from Him, 
 but not looking at Him through the same medium. Our 
 minds are watching for the signs of God in the spiritual 
 experience of ourselves and others, and in one sense, that 
 is the only way now in which to us the supernatural is 
 manifest. The old method of communication between 
 heaven and earth, seems to have been done away with ; 
 there are no heavenly messengers coming to us unawares, 
 no voices calling to us in the night, no ladder on which 
 we can see the angels of God ascending and descending, 
 no miraculous gifts even to the church ; the unseen, silent 
 mysterious working of the Almighty spirit upon the soul 
 of man, bringing light out of darkness and order out of 
 confusion, and peace and purity out of strife and corrup 
 tion, is now our only witness, or at least the only one we 
 are the habit of giving heed to, that God is on the throne 
 and that we are His children." 
 
 " And add to that, brother Janeway, that we have phi 
 losophized God out of the universe, or at best but allow 
 Him the credit of having first started the machinery, 
 and established laws by which the mighty engine must be 
 governed, and then left it to go on in its involutions and 
 evolutions, accomplishing the vast and inscrutable designs
 
 . 
 
 46 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 of its mighty builder, without any direction but those 
 laws which at first He established for its guidance. Oh, 
 my dear sir, when I think of the place which philosophy 
 would give our God in His universe, I am ready to cry 
 out with Mary Magdalene, 'they have taken away my 
 Lord and I know not where they have laid him.' They 
 would rob us of our Heavenly Father, and leave us in the 
 grasp of unalterable Fate." 
 
 " You spoke just now, brother Ransom, of the old Jew 
 ish saints ; have you ever thought of the probable sub 
 jects that occupied the mind of Isaac as he was abroad 
 in the fields meditating at the eventide. Sometimes we 
 think we have a more privileged condition than the patri 
 archs in the clearer revelation of the New Testament and 
 the more complete developments of the Divine will ; but 
 there must have been a reality in the connection between 
 heaven and earth, in the interest which God and his an 
 gels take in the affairs of men, to their minds which we 
 find it hard to grasp. How could Isaac doubt the words 
 of his own fathei-, when he told of the many times from 
 Uz of the Chaldees, to Haran, and from Haran to Bershe- 
 ba through all his journeyings, God had appeared to him, 
 spoken words to him full of rich promise, not only for his 
 posterity, but through them to the whole world. And 
 from the field when he was meditating, could he not see 
 the very hills, now stricken with the curse of God, that 
 rose above the sea of Sodom. A year before his own 
 birth that desolate region was a fruitful valley, his own 
 father had told him of the visit of the -three travelers in 
 the heat of day, of the feast made to welcome them, of 
 his surprise to find out that they were messengers from 
 heaven, that they had come down to visit Sodom and 
 were commissioned to destroy it if the report of it in 
 heaven was found to be correct ; and Abraham himself 
 had seen the smoke of that terrible fire ' ascend up as the 
 smoke of a great furnace.' " 
 
 " Yes, my dear sir, and it did not trouble him," replied 
 Mr. Ransom, " how the fire was kindled, whether the soil 
 was full of bituminous matter and kindled by a lightning 
 flash, or whether a volcano threw forth the burning ele 
 ments that had been there rumbling for ages ; to Him it
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 47 
 
 was simply the hand of God. ' God rained fire and brim 
 stone from heaven upon it, and he did it because of their 
 wickedness.' Oh, how grand in his simplicity looms up 
 the figure of that good old Abraham pleading for that 
 guilty place ! How modest his request ! How respectfully 
 is each petition worded ! How sure he seems to be that 
 Sodom and his nephew would be safe,' for the promise 
 was at last given him, that if there were only ten right 
 eous souls in it, the judgment should be stayed. Yes, 
 truly Isaac could not be at a loss for themes on which to 
 meditate, although he had no Bible on which to draw. 
 He could look back upon the journey to Morinh, upon the 
 altar he helped to build, upon the gleaming knife raised 
 aloft and just stayed in time by the voice from heaven. 
 Yes, brother Janeway, I often have reflected upon the 
 lives of those good old men, although I must say you 
 have given me a new idea in the subject of Isaac's medi 
 tation in the evening hour. So you see my suggestion 
 that we might be mutual helpers in the work assigned us, 
 has already been verified." 
 
 " I am happy in the belief that we may by our mutual 
 intercourse, my dear sir, pass many pleasant and profita 
 ble hours; but I have my doubts as to the help we shall 
 be able to afford each other in the special work in which 
 we are engaged ; there seems to me a strange and very 
 marked distrust and jealousy existing between the two 
 denominations, and I very much fear any attempt on our 
 part to break it may only make matters worse." 
 
 " I will tell you, brother Janeway, what we must do. 
 ' "We must look around.' I spent the last year at the 
 house of a minister somewhat advanced in life ; not a 
 learned man or a man of genius, but very wise in his 
 dealings with man. It was a common saying of his in 
 reference to accomplishing any design where prejudices 
 and old customs were to be encountered, 'We must 
 look round a bit and watch our chance.' And I think the 
 idea a good one. In all attempts to break down old pre 
 judices great caution must be used, and time must work 
 the salutary change ; if we are known to be on friendly 
 tei-ms with each other, that will do something towards it, 
 and the exercise of a large charity in our own hearts will
 
 48 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 have a powerful, though unseen, and perhaps unconscious 
 influence over the hearts of our people at any rate let 
 us look around, step cautiously and act conscientiously, 
 and if we cannot accomplish all we would we may do 
 more than we now can anticipate." 
 
 And thus an intercourse was commenced between the 
 two young ministers, that was to them individually a 
 source of enjoyment and profit. They took no pains to 
 conceal their intimacy from public notice. Walking to 
 gether, and riding together and mutually visiting each 
 other's study, but carefully avoiding all attempts to med 
 dle with denominational peculiarities. There was at first 
 more or less talk and a great deal of wondering, but the 
 conclusion which most arrived at was, " that there would 
 no harm come of it." 
 
 The year at length came round for which Mr. Ransom 
 had stipulated, when the trial was to be made whether 
 the people were satisfied to settle him as their spiritual 
 guide, and whether he felt satisfied that this was the part 
 of the vineyard where the master would have him work ; 
 and as he had gone on through the year in a straight 
 forward course, pursuing what he thought the path of 
 duty, courting no man's favor, although exercising to 
 wards all that gentle, Christ-like demeanor which is far 
 removed from servility as from haughty indifference ; he 
 could not but feel that the voice of the people under such 
 circumstances would be to him the voice of God. He 
 had acted through his year of trial as he should continue 
 to act after he should be permanently settled. He knew 
 what work he had to perform, and his ability to perform 
 it had been fully tested, so that both parties, if an alli 
 ance should be formed, had a fair and full understanding. 
 
 The result was that the call which had been originally 
 made was fully confirmed, and the Rev. Robert Ransom 
 was to be ordained pastor of the church at Woodburn, 
 with a salary of seven hundred dollars a year exclusive 
 of the parsonage. This building, with the land attached 
 about twelve acres was a gift, in the early part of the 
 establishment of the church, by an old sea captain. The 
 house was a substantial stone building, of one story in 
 height, with four good sized rooms on a floor, a wide ball
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 49 
 
 running through it, a wing on the north side used for a 
 kitchen, and a back building appropriate for a spai-e room 
 or study. The place did not present a very inviting ap 
 pearance when Mr. Ransom first took possession of it. 
 The building itself was sound and had been kept in good 
 repair, but the fences had been neglected, and the garden 
 had a wild appeai'ance, the former pastor being a man of 
 studious habits and perhaps rather indolent, had taken no 
 care beyond the raising of a few of the more necessary 
 vegetables, and had allowed the shrubs and plants intend 
 ed for ornament to have their own way ; even the rasp 
 berry hedge had been untrimmed for years, and presented 
 an aspect of wildness equal to any thing that could be 
 found on a swamp ditch. The land too, which spread in 
 two pretty level fields back of the house, had very much 
 the appearance of a common, for although there was abun 
 dance of fencing material lying along where the fences 
 ought to be, they were useless as a protection against ma 
 rauders, and of course stray cows and horses, as well as 
 sheep and hogs, had monopolized these premises, and 
 seemed quite at home on them. Mr. Ransom soon per 
 ceived what was needed, and therefore made the request 
 as already stated, that a man should be procured to at 
 tend to out door labors, as well as a woman of respecta 
 ble character and ability to take charge of domestic mat 
 ters. He saw clearly that with proper management the 
 land and the garden might be made to yield a suitable re 
 turn for the cost of labor, and without the necessary care 
 and labor they would be useless apendages to the establish 
 ment, and be doing a positive injury, for he could not but 
 judge that such untidy surroundings to the mansion of a 
 minister, must eventually injure the respect of his people 
 as much as ungain and untidy garments, on his person. It 
 was not long after he took possession before an entirely 
 new aspect was witnessed. 
 
 "Was there ever such a change in any place as our 
 young minister has made in the parsonage the few months 
 he has been there ! " said the wife of Mr. Bellows, one of 
 the leading men in the church, to a company of ladies at 
 a social gathering beneath he'r own roof; " every thing is 
 in order, and as neat as his own personal appearance."
 
 50 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 " And Mr. Graham says," replied a lady, " that he has 
 only employed a carpenter for three days ; all the work 
 has' been done by the man he has hired for the year, and 
 Mr. Stowell says the people ought to make him a hand 
 some present, for he has made the property worth more 
 than it was by some hundred dollars." 
 
 "Well, I guess there will be presents enough ; we shall 
 all have a chance to do something, when the year is 
 round, and he is ordained and brings his lady home, and 
 I think we had better see to it and have a subscription 
 made, and get enough to furnish the parlor complete. 
 What do you think, Mrs. Bellows ? " 
 
 " Why, to tell you the truth, Mrs. Graham, I have my 
 doubts as to the matter, for the reason that Mr. Ransom 
 seems to be peculiar about such things. Mr. Bellows 
 says that when he first called on Mr. Ransom, as one of 
 the committee of settlement, that there were some things 
 said by Mr. Ransom, in the course of conversation, that 
 gave them to understand that he would only receive as 
 salary what should be raised through the regular society 
 organization. But he may feel different about such a plan 
 as you propose, only I think the arrangement had better 
 be made very quietly; let the paper be handed only to a 
 few of the more able people and not carried round in 
 general." 
 
 " But in that case," replied Mrs. Graham, " it will not 
 be a gift from the people in general ; you know all will 
 want to feel that they have done something, if it is ever 
 so little, so that when they visit there they can have the 
 satisfaction of feeling that they had a hand in it, and that 
 no matter how handsome it is, they helped to furnish it 
 and have a sort of right to enjoy it." 
 
 " True, one would feel a little more at home in it, to 
 know that she had helped to furnish it." 
 
 But the good ladies were doomed to disappointment, 
 which for a time had like to have disturbed the quiet of 
 the church in general ; and but for the good sense and 
 prudent management of the trustees and' elders, might 
 have been of a serious nature ; for women are not always 
 alive to consequences, nor lovely as they in general are. 
 more ready than the sterner sex to be thwarted in their
 
 LOOKING ABOUND 51 
 
 plans, especially if they be in their view plans of benevo 
 lence. 
 
 All the arrangements had been made for the ordination, 
 and on the evening of that day Mr. Ransom was to be 
 united to the fair one whom he had chosen and whom he 
 dearly loved. It was the early spring, and every thing 
 around the parsonage had been put in the most perfect 
 order. The garden as neat, as nice taste and skillful 
 hands could arrange it, and the borders filled with the 
 choicest flowers, just opening to the genial sunshine, 
 when a load of goods was seen to drive up from the sloop 
 that had reached her moorings the past night, and pass on 
 in the direction of the minister's house. It was quite 
 bulky in appearance, but from the ease with which the 
 horses trotted along the level highway, it could not be 
 very weighty. A covering had been carefully spread 
 over the articles as if to protect them from the dust or 
 from general observation, and this in itself was enough 
 to excite curiosity. It would be a very superfluous waste 
 of thought in a city to give anything like a guess as to 
 where the different vehicles were going, or with what 
 they were freighted ; every one there has enough busi 
 ness on hand of a personal nature to prevent any curious 
 surmises as to their neighbors' comings and goings ; but 
 in the country there is leisure enough to do all one has to 
 do for himself or herself, and to keep a running account 
 of the more general affairs of others. There is nothing 
 malicious designed by it, it merely manifests how much 
 of a family concern the whole settlement has become, and 
 how much interest they take in one another. " Now this 
 loaded wagon must have come from the landing; it must 
 be furniture, for it was not heavy in proportion to its bulk, 
 and it must be going to the parsonage, for the team be 
 longed to Bradford, who lived near to it, and there was 
 no other house in the place that was not already furnish 
 ed." Mrs. Graham, among others had guessed this out, 
 and the wagon had not gone a hundred rods past her 
 house before her bonnet and shawl were on, and she mak 
 ing all decent haste towards the house of her neighbor, 
 Mrs. Bellows. 
 
 " Did you see that wagon go by," was the first excla-
 
 52 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 mation of Mrs. Bellows after giving her friend the cus 
 tomary salutation, " and what does it mean ? " 
 
 " It means, I fear, that our plan is defeated, and I have 
 told my husband again and again that we should be too 
 late ; the thipgs ought to have been got a week ago, and 
 not left so to the last minute." 
 
 " Then you think that was a load of furniture for the 
 parsonage ? " 
 
 " I know it ; it was Bradford's team, he lives, you know, 
 close by Mr. Ransom ; he brought it from the sloop that 
 came in last night, and I could see plain enough the leg 
 of a chair sticking out nicely, as he thought every thing 
 was covered up. Now, Betsey, we wont lose any time ; 
 where is Mr. Bellows ? " 
 
 " He has just gone to give the man some directions 
 about plowing, but he will be back in a few minutes, for 
 he has promised to spend this'day helping me arrange my 
 flower beds; did you ever see any thing so sweet as Mr. 
 Ransom's garden. He will make a good husband, I know, 
 for he seems so fond of flowers, and has taken so much 
 pains to have such a fine assortment." 
 
 " Well, if he is not fond of- them himself, I expect 
 somebody else is, and that shows well in him. A man 
 that is desirous to please his wife in small things, will be 
 very likely to do it in more- important matters; but as 
 you say, his garden puts us all to shame. I never saw 
 Graham so worked up about the garden before ; why, he 
 kept two men out of the field yesterday the whole live 
 long day, and himself too, working for dear life. 'Ah, ha !' 
 I said to him, ' you are getting quite gallant, you think 
 I suppose, that the young lady who is coming must be 
 fond of a nice garden, or there would not have been so 
 much care taken to prepare one for her ? ' ' 
 
 " ' "W ell Mattie,' he replied, ' I must say, I never before 
 thought a garden made such a difference in the appear 
 ance of things ; you shall have a nice garden after this, I 
 promise you.' So you see, Betsey, our minister is doing 
 good in more ways than one. But I want so to see Mr. 
 Bellows ; he is the very man to go for us, and he must do 
 it right of He must go and see Mr. Ransom and let him
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 53 
 
 know all about it, and that we wish to furnish his best 
 parlor, and that it shall be done handsomely ; and then you 
 see if he has got furniture for it already, no doubt it will 
 be rather plain, and he can take it for some other room. 
 Now don't you thirrk Mr. Bellows will go ? " 
 
 " He will go if you ask him, no doubt, for you know you 
 are quite a favorite of his." 
 
 " Am I ? well, then it is tit for tat, for he is a favorite 
 with all the ladies but here he comes. Oh, Mr. Bellows, 
 I am so glad to see you." 
 
 " Glad to see me ! then I know you girls have some 
 thing in the wind. What is it ? " 
 
 " We want you . to go right off and see Mr. Ransom 
 about our business ; he will have his house all furnished 
 before we get a single thing done." 
 
 " What makes you think so ? " 
 
 " Reason enough. Bradford has just gone past with a 
 large load of furniture." 
 
 "Well, what of that?" 
 
 " Why, it is a good deal of a matter. No doubt it is 
 for Mr. Ransom ; and now we want you to go right off 
 and see Mr. Ransom, and let him know what we ladies 
 want, and if he has procured furniture for his best room, 
 tell him he can take that for some other room. What we 
 wish is to furnish his best room, and that we will do it 
 handsomely. Now do go, will you not ? You are inti 
 mate with him, more so than any one else, and the most 
 suitable person to break the matter to him." 
 
 "I tell you what, Mattie," said Mr. Bellows, taking a 
 seat, " I would do almost any thing to oblige you, or your 
 good husband to say nothing of my wife but I hate 
 most confoundedly to have anything to do about this 
 business. I know Mr. Ransom, or I think I do, better than 
 any of you." 
 
 " Well, then you are the very person to go to him ; and 
 besides, what objections can there be? There can be no 
 possible difficulty, only that he may have purchased fur 
 niture already, but as we say, he can make use of that in 
 other rooms." 
 
 " If you would give me time to speak, Mattie, I would 
 tell you where the difficulty lies. You see, Mr. Ransom
 
 54 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 is as odd about some things as Dick's hat band, and you 
 know all about that." 
 
 "How you do talk, Edward Bellows! Mr. Ransom 
 odd ! I thought you esteemed him so highly." 
 
 " So I do. There is no man I know that I would put 
 along side of him there is no man I would do moi'e to 
 oblige, and there is no man in the world to whom I would 
 go, if at any time I had any trouble and wanted the sym 
 pathy of a true friend, so soon as him and there is no 
 one whose advice I should value so much as his. He is 
 as true as steel. He is a diamond, a pure diamond, and 
 yet I tell you he is odd. Now don't look so glum and 
 downcast. I am not saying what need hurt your feelings. 
 I would not do that, for I know you ladies all love him 
 almost to making some of your husbands jealous, and yet 
 you do not any of you think as highly of him as I do. I 
 know him I have been intimate with him I have 
 talked hours and hours with him, and never yet got tired. 
 He has treated me with the utmost politeness, and his 
 study seems like home to me when I get into it ; but af 
 ter all, there seems somehow a line between him and me 
 that I should not dare to step over. One can go so near 
 to it but no further. How he does it, or what there is in 
 him that keeps him as it does, within a certain enclosure 
 where no other man can come, is more than I can say." 
 
 " And you are afraid that in going to him, and making 
 known our wishes, you might possibly cross that line. 
 Edward Bellows, it is all your imagination ! " 
 
 " Well, Mattie, I will tell you what I will do ; if Char 
 lie will go with me, I will venture it." 
 
 "He will go." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " Do you think Charlie Graham would say no, if I told 
 him most seriously that my heart was set upon it ? " 
 
 " I suppose likely you have a way of getting round him 
 like most other wives ; but go at once and hurry him 
 along, for I must finish the job as soon as possible. I 
 have promised Betsey to spend the whole day as her gar 
 dener ; so tell Charlie to hurry along." 
 
 And Charles Graham under some charm which his love 
 ly wife knew how to exercise, did hurry along, for it was
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 55 
 
 less than an hour after the scene described above, that the 
 two gentlemen were on their way to the parsonage go 
 ing not to please themselves, nor fully under the influ 
 ence of their own judgment as to the propriety of their 
 errand. 
 
 " If he was like any other minister we ever had here, 
 Graham, I should feel different about this matter, but you 
 know what he told us when we were fixing about his sal 
 ary there must be no raising of subscriptions he 
 wanted nothing in that way what salary he received 
 must come to him through our organized method of rais 
 ing money." 
 
 " Well, Bellows, we might almost call that an organ 
 ized method. Why, in the next town, one third of the 
 salary is raised by subscription, and that of only three 
 men." 
 
 " I know it, and everybody has to take off their hat to 
 them ; and their ministers know it, and feel bound to be 
 very obsequious to them, and if possible do or say noth 
 ing to offend them. I never thought of the matter as I 
 now do, or when you and I went to propose terms of set 
 tlement to Mr. Ransom, I would never have made such a 
 fool of myself as I did." 
 
 " Nor I either ; but it is such a common thing, or it has 
 been in many places, that I presume few think at all of 
 the effect it has on the mind of the minister. Here we 
 are, though you will be the spokesman." 
 
 " What splendid tulips ! sweet scented, too !" This was 
 said as they were passing through the path from the front 
 gate, its borders lined with bunches of that rich flower 
 intermingled with hyacinths ; the air was filled with their 
 fragrance. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen, you find me in the midst of, I was 
 going to say, housekeeping, but more properly, house ar 
 ranging. I am glad to see you, though ; come in if you 
 can find your way through my trumpery. We have 
 placed it all in the hall, as Alice, my housekeeper, insists 
 upon it the floors must be scrubbed before the carpets can 
 go down, though where there is any dirt to scrub off is 
 more than I can see ; women, however, about such mat 
 ters must have their own way."
 
 56 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " It will be well for you sir, if you have profited by 
 what experience Alice has taught you, it may save trou 
 ble in future. Women must not only have their way in 
 the house, but sometimes about matters out of the house, 
 too ; for instance, here are brother Graham and myself 
 called off from our employments, at the bidding of two la 
 dies, whom for very good reasons we do not like to diso 
 bey, on an errand to our minister, which we think might 
 just as well have been done by ladies as by us." 
 
 " Perhaps they had so much regard to my feelings, that 
 is, if it be a question of yes or no as not to be willing 
 I should be put to pain in their presence, if unfortunate 
 ly the latter answer must be given." 
 
 " That or something else, at any rate, Mr. Ransom, we 
 have a commission to you from them, and I don't know 
 how many others, but it must be delivered to you in pri 
 vate." 
 
 " Pass on then into my study, gentlemen, you both 
 know the way ; in a few moments I will be at leisure." 
 
 " New paper in here, too ! how very neat, Graham, is it 
 not? " This was said as they entered the room. 
 
 " Perfectly so, and how orderly everything is arranged ; 
 this seems to me, Bellows, whenever I come into it, or 
 think of it, as a kind of holy place as though nothing 
 impure could stick to any thing no doubt it is a place 
 of much prayer." 
 
 "Those same feelings effect me in reference to this 
 room. I never feel like trifling here, and that makes me 
 think of an idea that has come into my head lately ; why 
 would it not be a good plan for any of us to have a room 
 call it a library or what you please but a place where 
 every day at certain seasons of it, we could go and sit 
 down and shut the door, and be alone and think. Let 
 the room be to us a sort of Bethel, and resolve with our 
 selves that when we enter there, every passion that might 
 be working in our breasts that was wrong, should be im 
 mediately hushed just as if we had come into the pres 
 ence of the Searcher of hearts, and must expel anger, 
 malice, envy, jealousy, pride, covetousness, and every 
 hurtful lust let the room in fact, be to us a consecrated 
 spot."
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 57 
 
 " It is a good idea. I never thought of it before, but 
 I believe it would be good for us. I am glad you suggest 
 ed it, for you know I am about making an addition to my 
 house ; I mean to have such a room, Bellows." 
 
 "And I will too that is, I mean to coax Betsey, to let 
 me have one of our rooms we have more than we can 
 really make use of. The fact is as you say, we want time 
 for thinking that is, for thinking, and meditating and 
 praying, and not let the world run away with us altogeth 
 er." , 
 
 " Well gentlemen," said Mr. Ransom, as he entered the 
 room, " 1 am at your servipe, now." 
 
 " Our story, sir, is a short one, and soon told. You 
 must know, Mr. Ransom, that it has got to be very much 
 the custom in most parishes for the people, and more es 
 pecially the ladies, when a young minister is about to set 
 tle, to club together and show their kind feelings by do 
 ing something by way of relieving him of expense, by 
 furnishing his house, or a least some portion of it and 
 as our ladies know that part of your house is already sup 
 plied, they have proposed among themselves to raise mon 
 ey enough to fit out one room designed for your best par 
 lor, and to do it handsomely. The money is all on hand, 
 and more can be had if needed, and the furniture would 
 have been bought and sent here, but I advised them that 
 you should be consulted first, as you might possibly have 
 some choice about a selection." 
 
 " I thank you veiy much, brother Bellows, for your con 
 sideration of my feelings, and I wish you both, brethren, 
 to say to your good ladies, and through them to all the 
 generous hearts that have devised this plan of expressing 
 their interest in me that I feel deeply this token of 
 their kindness ; it is worth more to me than ten times the 
 value in money they propose to expend. I thank them 
 most heartily, but if you are not too much in haste, I 
 should like to say a few things to you, and let you know 
 a little how I feel about this and other matters, and my 
 reasons for it." 
 
 "If you can spare the time sir, I think we can." 
 
 "I rather think neither of us have much time to spare 
 at present, but as this matter is, as I view it, a subject of 
 3*
 
 58 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 most importance both to you and me, perhaps we shall 
 each of us feel that the time consumed will not have been 
 wasted. When I made up my mind to make the Gospel 
 ministry my life work, I resolved to do all in my power 
 to prepare myself suitably for it. I did not intend to 
 take the shortest cut to the pulpit, and throw myself upon 
 providence to assist me when I got there to fulfill its du 
 ties. I believed that some experience at least, was neces 
 sary to enable me, or any other young man, to take the 
 responsible position of a settled pastor, and fill it to the 
 honor of God, and the profit of his people. I therefore 
 determined to look well around and mark as I was able, 
 such events in the course of my preparatory studies, as 
 would throw light upon my own future path of duty. I 
 wished to learn as far as possible where the rocks and 
 quicksands lay, against which so many ministers get 
 wrecked or injured ; for this purpose, whenever I could 
 obtain board in the family of a settled pastor, I did so ; 
 and as in general, I found such families, if not straiten 
 ed for means, at least very ready to add to their receipts 
 the profit from my board, I -had seldom any difficulty in 
 getting the accommodation. And now, gentlemen, to 
 say nothing of the many things thus brought under my 
 inspection, from which I hope I have learned some use 
 ful lessons, I will merely relate to you a few items that 
 have a bearing upon our present topic. 
 
 " In several societies amongst which I was thrown, I no 
 ticed that although there was apparently abundant means 
 to have provided for their minister a regular salary that 
 would have met all his necessities, they seemed to prefer 
 that the nominal salary should be only large enough to 
 eke out a bare subsistence, and to bestow as largess in 
 different ways the requisite balance. Some ministers, I 
 thought, were quite willing thus to receive their allowance, 
 and seemed to feel that it helped to encourage kind and 
 generous dispositions in their people. I had my own 
 thoughts on the matter, and drew different conclusions as 
 to the effect on the pastor as well as the people. Per 
 haps the sensibilities of such ministers and their families 
 may not have been as keen as most others, or from habit 
 been blunted, for in some cases I have witnessed much
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 59 
 
 suffering from the mortification of justifiable pride in the 
 humiliating manner that those offerings of benevolence, if 
 you can call them so, have been prosecuted. 
 
 " Two instances have made a deep and lasting impres 
 sion on my mind, and I will relate them. 
 
 " One was that of a family in which, previous to my be 
 coming a member of it, I was somewhat intimate. The 
 gentleman himself was not, and probably never would be 
 a popular minister ; his preliminary course had been as 
 short as could, with any prospect of success, enable a man 
 of superior talents, and robust health to meet the demands 
 of his situation, and he was not a man of more than or 
 dinary capacity, nor did he enjoy firm health. He mar 
 ried and was settled as a pastor. At first, as in most cases, 
 quite an amount of interest was manifested great at 
 tention was paid him and his lady, and his house was in 
 part furnished by the gratuities of his people. Whether 
 his family was as prudent in outlay as might have been, I 
 cannot say, but as far as I could observe, there was no 
 waste, and no disposition to extravagance. They lived 
 barely in respectability. But I know there was a con 
 stant dearth of means to provide what seemed to be the 
 necessaries of life, and I often felt pained to notice the 
 care that had to be taken with the outer garments in 
 which he officiated on the Sabbath, that they might at least 
 have a decent appearance. 
 
 " During my stay there, it had become in some way 
 noised among the people that there was a necessity for 
 aid, and some of the leading ladies proposed a donation 
 party, and a donation party was of course got up, and in 
 order to see how it worked, I remained that evening, and 
 assisted, as far as I could, in relieving both the pastor and 
 his wife from the trouble of waiting upon so many peo 
 ple. It had been a fatiguing day to both of them as well 
 as the other members of the family, for the house had to 
 be disarranged in its ordinary form, and one bed and bed 
 stead had to be removed, that the room might better sub 
 serve the purpose for which it was needed. There was 
 also more than ordinary care to be taken that everything 
 throughout the house should be in order, for as the house 
 was to be thrown open to the public, the public would be
 
 60 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 apt to pry more or less into its nooks and corners. I no 
 ticed through the day that the lady looked rather sad, and 
 in that respect the opposite of her husband. He, poor 
 man, no doubt elated with the prospect of relief from pre 
 sent demands upon an empty purse, and of having that 
 replenished too, wore quite a lively expression on his 
 countenance, and went about with alacrity, assisting all in 
 his power to help forward the arrangments. I had known 
 
 Mrs. G , we will for convenience call her by that 
 
 name, before she was married. Her family was highly re 
 spectable, bnt the parents not in a situation to give her a 
 large setting out ; they did what they could, and with, as 
 I have said, the aid afforded by the people in furnishing 
 part of the house, it was well supplied with good and 
 
 necessary furniture. Mrs. G- however, had never 
 
 known what it was to be straitened ; she was lovely iii 
 appearance and in character, and might no doubt have se 
 lected from among her suitors some one who could have 
 placed her in circumstances of independence, but Mr. 
 
 G won her heart and gave his own in return, but that 
 
 was all he had to give in fact when he married he was 
 still deeply in debt for his education." 
 " Do you not think that is wrong, sir ? " 
 "To what do you allude, brother Bellows ?" 
 " Why, that a minister should marry white in debt for 
 his education. What chance has he after he is married 
 and settled, with the salaries they are generally allowed, 
 to pay up arrearages. It is as much as they can do in 
 most cases barely to live." 
 
 " It does not seem right to me, but those who do so no 
 doubt anticipate some means of accomplishing it, or they 
 would not venture such an injustice. I look upon it as 
 wrong for any man to run in debt, unless he has at least 
 very probable means in reversion wherewith it may be li 
 quidated. A man in business may indeed, for some years, be 
 indebted for much of the capital on which he works ; but 
 if he be an honest man, those who loan him are fully 
 aware of his circumstances and of their own risks for 
 which, in many cases, a compensation is also paid ; but 
 debt, under any circumstances, is to my mind a burden. 
 A man is not a free man his manliness is injured by it,
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 61 
 
 and for a minister to have such a weight upon his mind, 
 to have such a spectre to haunt him in his study or his 
 pulpit to be obliged to feel that he owes any man but 
 that love which his fellow likewise owes to him is a sit 
 uation no sane man ought to throw himself into. But to 
 go on with my story. Towards evening the company be 
 gan to assemble, bringing along their bags, baskets and 
 bundles. These contained various articles for use in a 
 family, with quite a large proportion of cake and biscuit, 
 and such other knick-knacks as were to furnish a table for 
 the company were to enjoy a feast together, as well as to 
 comfort the hearts of their pastor and his family by their 
 
 donation. Mrs. G did not anticipate this part of the 
 
 arrangement in fact she was a novice in such matters, 
 and this was her first introduction to donation parties. It 
 took her therefore by surprise, as she entered 'her eating 
 apartment, to find all the tables gathered and stretched 
 out to make as large a surface as possible." 
 
 " ' Oh, Mrs. G = ,' said a sprightly young lady, ' we 
 have just been looking for you where shall we find your 
 table cloths we shall probably want several of them.' 
 
 "Mrs. , was somewhat confused first, by the pert 
 
 manner of the girl, and then by the unexpected demand. 
 She had table cloths enough to cover all the tables, but 
 some of them had been used, and would not answer as 
 mates to those which were clean, and she was obliged to 
 state the difficulty. 
 
 "' Oh, Avell,' said another lady, 'it does not matter 
 
 here Kate, you run to Mrs. L , in the neighborhood, 
 
 and ask her for her largest dinner cloth she has plenty, 
 I know.' 
 
 " As Mrs. G found that for the time being, her 
 
 place as mistress of her own house had been usurped, and 
 not feeling quite reconciled to the fact, yet afraid to man 
 ifest any displeasure, lest the harmony of the meeting 
 should be destroyed, gently submitted or submitted 
 with as good grace as possible, and stood a sad spectator 
 of the doings. Her closets were entered, and their con 
 tents brought forth crockery and glass ware passing 
 through the hands of thoughtless, laughing girls, and so 
 alarmingly jingling together, it seemed miraculous that
 
 62 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 the most of them did not break in the encounter. In the 
 meantime Miss Kate comes in, out of breath, and calls 
 out, 
 
 "'Mrs. L says her large table cloths are in the wash 
 
 and the small ones in use.' 
 
 " ' Dear me,' exclaims another, ' strange enough that 
 there ain't clean table linen enough in the neighborhood 
 
 to cover a few tables how is it, Mrs. G , are your 
 
 cloths very dirty? ' 
 
 " ' They are not very dirty, but are somewhat soiled.' 
 
 " ' Do let us have them we will turn them or cover 
 up the spots.' 
 
 " The soiled cloths were at length produced, and the ta 
 ble loaded and covered with a bountiful variety. But it 
 appeared that the guests were also bountifully supplied 
 with an appetite, and as quite a large proportion of those 
 present was made up of the boys and girls of the age 
 when cake and good things generally have a relish it 
 was surprising how few articles of any value were left af 
 ter the feast was over. 
 
 " The exercises of the evening were various a good 
 deal of running about was accomplished, and the young 
 people getting into one of the upper room, carried on a 
 romp that occasionally jarred the whole house, and must 
 have jarred harshly the feeling of its sensitive mistress, 
 whose ideas of propriety were not at all in harmony with 
 those who had taken possession of the premises. 
 
 " The most trying part of the ceremonies of the eve 
 ning, however, was the passing of the hat." 
 
 " What was the object of that ? " suddenly exclaimed 
 both gentlemen. 
 
 " The object no doubt was a good one ; it was to col 
 lect money for the use of the pastor from those who had 
 come there and perhaps not brought along their bonus, 
 and who might otherwise slip off after having had a good 
 time, and without contributing anything. This method 
 of collecting money might have done, although disgust 
 ing at best, if it had been confined to such parts of the 
 house where none but strangers were present, but when I 
 saw it passing round in the room where the pastor and 
 his wife were seated, and even handed to those who were
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 63 
 
 sitting by their side, and when I saw the deep flush that 
 mantled the cheeks of that lovely woman, and noticed the 
 restlessness which agitated her frame it occurred to me 
 that if the people had wished to pain and mortify a sen 
 sitive woman, and that lady their pastor's wife, they could 
 not have devised a more effective plan, than the pro 
 gramme of that evening. 
 
 "After the company had retired, as I was walking 
 through the rooms below, to satisfy my curiosity as to the 
 amount of damage sustained in the hurly burly, for I felt 
 very sure, that no decent furniture could have passed 
 through such an ordeal without showing the marks, I 
 
 found in a small side room, Mrs. G , alone by herself, 
 
 seated in a rocking chair, moving it rapidly, and her face 
 covered. I was about to retire when she called to me : 
 
 " ' Come in, Robert.' We had been acquainted from her 
 childhood, and she was then but a few years my junior. 
 
 " I came at her request, and taking my seat near to her 
 said, ' you must be very tired after the scenes of this day.' 
 
 " ' Oh,' she replied, ' I am almost tired of life, I am heart 
 sick,' and immediately burst into tears, sobbing with the 
 agony that racked her feelings, exclaiming at last, 
 
 " ' Never did I think that when I became a minister's 
 wife, I must be placed in the attitude of a beggar. Oh, 
 Robert, if you" go into the ministry, never marry. I en 
 treat of you never to place a lady in the situation you 
 have seen me placed this evening.' 
 
 " Now, brethren, I leave you to guess the answer I re 
 turned to her, and let your own hearts say what would 
 have been your reply." 
 
 "Mine would have been a pretty short and decided 
 one," answered Mr. Graham. " Never! never I " 
 
 "Never what, brother Graham!" said Mr. Bellows. 
 " Never to marry ? " 
 
 " No, no, by no means not that but if I were a 
 minister, I would never allow my wife to be exposed to 
 such humiliation." 
 
 " Nor I either," said Mr. Bellows. " It is taking the 
 very manhood out of a man thus to treat him turning 
 the honorable office of the pastorate into that of a beg 
 ging friar but why should it be so, Mr. Ransom ? "
 
 64 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " That is a serious question, brother Bellows. Sure 
 enough, why should it be so ! " The pastoral office is a 
 necessity communities, nor families, nor individuals can 
 do without it. What would your farms in this town be 
 woi'th, if the church should be leveled to the earth, and 
 the voice of the preacher heard no more, nor the ordinan 
 ces of religion again administered ? How many years 
 would it be ere the dark pall of semi-heathenism would 
 spread its gloom around you and your civilization. For 
 a moment look at the condition of two or three families 
 in your midst ; for some cause unbeknown to me, they ab 
 sent themselves from all religious services, and have done 
 so for years. They were once respectable, it is said, al 
 though it is hard to believe it could have been so. What 
 are they now ? Who among you associates with them ? 
 Would you purchase a farm adjoining to either of them ? " 
 
 " I would not live on it if given to me," said Mr. Bel 
 lows. 
 
 " And your whole town, without a settled ministry, 
 would in ten years depreciate in value. Strangers of re 
 spectability would not settle among you your children, 
 if not besotted and robbed of all ambition and enterprise 
 would seek other homes, where the Sabbath bell would 
 collect a decent audience in the house of God. No, breth 
 ren, the settled pastor for a longer or shorter period, is an 
 absolute necessity and why should not his respectable 
 support be so to ? Why should a scanty pittance be dok 
 ed out for his bare subsistence, and on an emergency, the 
 hat carried round begging for sixpences and shillings, 
 while he stands meanly looking on to see how much char 
 ity his people have, or how highly they value his services. 
 It is a degradation of the holy office a crying shame to 
 those religious societies which allow the nuisance. 
 
 "But, brethren, I have one more instance to bring be 
 fore you, and it has a nearer bearing upon our immediate 
 subject. 
 
 " In one of the ministerial families where I spent seve 
 ral months, I had the opportunity to observe the effect 
 upon the family, and the people too, of the fact that very 
 much of the furniture in the parsonage had been provided 
 by the contributions of some of the more wealthy mem-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 65 
 
 bers of the society. The salary, in this case, was a fair 
 one for a small family, but a number of children had of 
 course increased the demands upon it. A people with a 
 just sense of right, would have considered that a salary 
 suitable for a man and his wife with one or two children, 
 might not be sufficient to provide for eight children, with 
 the necessary outlay for clothes and schooling the lat 
 ter too, an absolute need, to which no parent, dependent 
 as a minister is on a mere salary, can possibly be indiffer 
 ent upon the education of his children their future live 
 lihood depends. He has no lands to distribute to his sons 
 as farmers have ; he has no trade in mercantile life by 
 means of which he can establish them. They must go 
 forth into the world with only such power to make a liv 
 ing, as their education may afford them. This case was 
 one which an honorable people would have considered, 
 and an addition made to the salary corresponding to the 
 additional demand upon it. But this was not done ; some 
 few felt the wrong and endeavored to supply the deficien 
 cy by privately contributing to the necessities of the fam 
 ily. Some would give to the minister's lady second hand 
 garments for the daughters, some of which at times she 
 gladly appropriated to her own use. The minister him 
 self, too, was often clothed in the same way. The effect 
 was very evident ; it created an obsequiousness on the 
 part of the pastor and all his family towards those upon 
 whose bounty they depended for so many comforts, per 
 fectly inconsistent as I view it, with that true indepen 
 dence of any man's favor, or which a minister of the 
 Gospel should feel. His commission is from above, and 
 all men are to stand, in one grand particular, before him or 
 to his view on a level circumstantial differences he has 
 nothing to do with. I noticed likewise, that the effect on 
 the minds of those who were thus helpful in their contri 
 butions of money or other articles, was not happy ; they 
 were good people no doubt, but it requires considerable 
 grace to be a benefactoi*. A sense of one's importance is 
 too apt to show itself a patronizing manner is apt to 
 crop out. And it did manifest itself on several occasions 
 that came under my observation. The children would 
 come home at times sadly mortified because Mrs. S
 
 66 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 had asked one of them about the dress she had on, ' and 
 if she wore it so in common every day,' or some school 
 companion had asked another ' if the dress she had on 
 was not one which the Lauries' had given her, it was ex 
 actly like one that Mary Laurie used to wear.' 
 
 " There was a donation party here, too, and being re 
 quested to join in the pleasures of the evening, I consent 
 ed. Here, the lady being accustomed to such scenes, was 
 not so affected by the fact of giving up her house for a 
 rendezvous for the evening, as the inexperienced Mrs. 
 G . She seemed to enjoy the scene it was confu 
 sion, worse confounded the hat was not carried round, 
 but instead thereof, each one who had anything' to give 
 would hand it directly to the pastor or his lady, who re 
 mained seated for that purpose. One individual who 
 wished to donate to his pastor one dollar, but not having, 
 as he found, any thing smaller than a two, handed it say 
 ing : 
 
 " 'Mr. P , can you change this bill for me by giving 
 
 me a one in return ? ' 
 
 " The minister smiled and bowed, and thanked him as 
 he with quite a business air, handed back the requisite 
 change. I perceived that there were no feelings on the 
 part of either the pastor or his lady, but that all was 
 right, and as it should be, and therefore my sympathy for 
 them could not be waked up ; but I soon found that their 
 children, who were old enough to understand the propri 
 ety of things did not view the matter in the same light 
 as the parents did. After the meeting had dispersed two 
 of the daughters were seated near the fire in the princi 
 pal room, one of them sixteen and the other about twelve 
 years of age. As I came into the room the youngest ask 
 ed me: 
 
 " ' Mr. Ransom, how much do you think pa and ma got 
 to-night? ' 
 
 '_' I was about to make some reply, when the elder sister 
 quickly said, 
 
 "'Julia, don't please don't bring up this hateful busi 
 ness. I have felt mortified enough all the evening. I 
 wish we could live on bread and water I wish there 
 were no carpets on the floors, and that we had plain wood-
 
 LOOKING AKOTJND. 67 
 
 en benches to sit on, and plain boards for a table to eat 
 f rom anything would be better than to be obliged to 
 feel that you are using furniture which has been given to 
 you by strangers, or eating food 4hat is handed to you as 
 charity.' 
 
 " ' What is the trouble, Miss Mary ? ' I replied. 
 
 " ' I think there is cause of trouble enough, and I hope, 
 Mr. Ransom, as you say you are going to be a minister, 
 that when you come to settle, you will buy your own fur 
 niture, if it is no better than Robinson Crusoe had, and 
 not let the people put into it even an old brass candle 
 stick.' 
 
 " ' Why not, Miss Mary ? ' 
 
 " ' If you had heard all the mortifying remarks I have 
 this evening how the carpets had been worn how 
 dingy every thing looked that the chairs wanted a coat 
 of paint, and even one woman said and she knew I 
 could hear it, too " that if she had thought things were 
 not to be taken care of she would never have opened her 
 purse." And then poor little Charlie happened to tell a 
 boy, who was standing on one of the cane-bottomed 
 chairs, to get down or he would break the chair, " what if 
 I do ? " was the answer ; " My father helped buy them." 
 Mr. Ransom, I would not marry a minister unless he was 
 rich, or I was. Its the hatefullest thing to be dependent 
 on a people. Talk about slavery ! We are slaves of the 
 worst kind, and yet have to bear every insult with a smil 
 ing countenance.' 
 
 "Now gentlemen, I have given you a few items of my 
 experience, and as I am able to furnish my house in a 
 plain, but respectable manner, from means that I have 
 honestly earned, do you not think I shall be happier and 
 more like a man to know when I place her whom I love 
 at its head, that no one can have a right to dictate to her 
 as to the way in which it is used ? " 
 
 " I must heartily agree with that young lady. I would'nt 
 receive as a gift even an ' old candlestick.' " 
 
 " And I join brother Bellows in that feeling. A minis 
 ter should have a home as much his own, and as sacred 
 from interference by others, as, other men." 
 
 " Then Mr. Graham, you have touched the very point
 
 68 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 x 
 
 on which I have determined to stand. I never meant 
 when I entered the ministry to renounce my manhood. 
 I am willing to give up my own selfish interest. I made 
 up my mind that to endure self-denial, as a good soldier 
 of Christ Jesus, I must expect ; and if it could be made 
 plain to me that, to serve my master, I must go round 
 daily with my hat in hand and beg my bread, I think I 
 should be willing to do it; but as all the injunctions of 
 scripture tend to an opposite direction, and we are exhort 
 ed to eat our own bread, it seems strange to me that the 
 idea should be so universal, that a minister may have the 
 bread of the mendicant offered to him, and he must take 
 it thankfully." 
 
 " Now, gentlemen, you have doubtless anticipated my 
 answer to the request of the ladies. Tell them, however, 
 that I am glad it was in their heart thus to manifest 
 their kind feelings, and that if ever they fail to receive 
 the most cordial welcome to the hospitalities of the par 
 sonage while I may 'occupy it, I will be willing as a pun 
 ishment to let them fm-nish the whole of it." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Bellows, as he and Graham were walk 
 ing home, " I have received some new ideas about minis 
 ters and people, too. Mr. Random is right. Why should 
 he, because he is a preacher of the gospel, and the pastor 
 of a people, give up his rights as an honorable man, as a 
 husband and a father ? How would you and I feel to be 
 living upon the charity of the public, and feel bound to 
 court the favor of every man of wealth or ability in the 
 place, and have our childi'en growing up with an obse 
 quious manner, and subject to the mortifying intei-ferenee 
 of strangers with their domestic arrangements ? " 
 
 "It would not suit you or me very well, but ministers 
 in general don't seem to mind it." 
 
 " Perhaps they mind it more than the people imagine. 
 But a great many of them act so heedlessly. They get 
 married without a cent in their pockets to begin with, and 
 are often not half educated, and have to dig away at mak 
 ing sermons out of slender materials, and very soon the 
 people have heard all they know, and get indifferent to 
 their preaching, and they see it, and are glad to hang on 
 to their situations under any circumstances, no matter how 
 humiliating."
 
 LOOKING AROWXD. 69 
 
 " I am glad for my part Bellows, that Mr. Ransom has 
 come out so plainly at the outset. He means to stand on 
 an independent platform, and we shall all like him the 
 better for it, after this breeze has blown over, but it will 
 make a breeze among the women." 
 
 " I never encoui-aged the thing, Graham, that Mattie 
 can tell you ; for in my first conversation with Mr. Ran 
 som about his settlement, I found that he was averse to 
 have any thing said or done about raising a larger salary 
 for him by outside contributions. Whatever he receives 
 must come through the regular channel." 
 
 " I have been thinking about what shall be done with 
 the money the ladies have raised ; they will want to do 
 something with it. How Avould it answer to propose to 
 them to use it in buying books as the foundation for a 
 good library among us? We need one very much." 
 
 "Just the very thing, Graham, I am glad you thought 
 of it. The young people want books, what few I have 
 are constantly in use. Since Mr. Ransom has had those 
 meetings of young people at his house, he has so stimula 
 ted them to read and inform themselves, that all they 
 want now is access to a good library, and let us try to get 
 as much more among the men as our ladies have raised, 
 and we will have a fair library at once." 
 
 " And Mr. Ransom will be the very man to select the 
 books. He knows just what works the people need. It 
 will also manifest to him how much we all prize his efforts 
 with our young people. If you and I, Bellows, had had 
 such a minister when we were boys, we would know more 
 than we do now, and be better able to train our own boys 
 and girls. I tell you what, Bellows, there is no telling 
 the good that man is doing among our young people ; he 
 has somehow got their confidence and love. Everything 
 he says is gospel with them." 
 
 " It is easy to see, Graham, how that has worked. In 
 the first place, they see he is interested for their improve 
 ment, and that you know will take hold of the heart of 
 any young person quicker than anything else. And then 
 they see he knows something besides theology. His 
 mind seems filled with knowledge ; they can look up to 
 him as one who is able to teach them, and to tell them
 
 70 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 what they need to know in order to make them wise and 
 useful." 
 
 " Yes, and this power over their respect, gives great 
 weight to the few words he drops to them on the subject 
 of religion. The fact is, he is leading them along in the 
 way, that if I do not mistake, will in a few years make a 
 great change in the whole face of society here. I tell 
 you, Bellows, Mr. Ransom has been wise in not taking as 
 he calls it, ' a short cut to the pulpit.' He has been along 
 while in preparation, but he is a master workman, he un 
 derstands his trade." 
 
 .Messrs. Graham and Bellows had more difficulty than 
 they anticipated in quieting the disappointed feelings of 
 the ladies. It was hard work to make them comprehend 
 the reasons which induced their minister to decline their 
 offers. " It was an unheard-of thing ! He was proud, 
 cold blooded ! He would never gain the love of the peo 
 ple ! If the parsonage was too good to be filled up a lit 
 tle decently, it was too good for them to visit it. Other 
 ministers were willing to throw themselves upon the kind 
 feelings of their people ; why should he set himself up to 
 be singular ? It was all done to touch them on account 
 of the small salary they were to pay him. He meant by 
 furnishing his house merely to let strangers see what peo 
 ple he had ! " All this was said at the meeting of ladies 
 who had subscribed to the sum raised. Messrs. Graham 
 and Bellows, who were invited to be present, sat quietly 
 listening to these outbreaks of disappointment, knowing 
 that until they " had said their say," and the breeze had 
 blown off its suppressed wrath, there would be little use 
 in trying to stop its fury. Women, they knew, had quick 
 feelings and strong feelings, but give them a chance to ex 
 press them and let them off, and the good creatures be 
 come relieved and are ready to be made happy again. It 
 took a great deal of talking and explanation, however, on 
 the part of the gentlemen. By degrees the storm lulled, 
 and when the proposition was made by them to raise as 
 much among the gentlemen, and with the united fund to 
 commence a public library, the idea was received most fa 
 vorably by some of the leading ladies, and soon met with 
 the views of the rest, and the meeting which threatened
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 71 
 
 no little difficulty, broke up in harmony. One thing, how 
 ever, perhaps, did as much to calm the disturbed elements 
 as any remarks from the gentlemen by way of advice and 
 counsel, and that was, a message from Mr. Ransom, which 
 they were requested to give to the ladies, " That he 
 would be very thankful for their assistance in arranging 
 his furniture, sewing carpets, etc., and placing his estab 
 lishment in a condition to receive its mistress." A smile 
 passed over the face of every lady all were ready, and 
 by mutual agreement the morrow was selected for their 
 labor of love. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Randolph Herbert parted from Mr. Ransom with his 
 mind relieved of a terrible burden. His little Willie was 
 safe, and in good hands ; it was indeed a severe trial to 
 him that the child on whom his heart doted, was a de 
 pendent on comparative strangers, yet even here was an 
 alleviation in the thought that there seemed to be on the 
 part of him who had been his deliverer a sincere regard 
 for the boy and a desire to keep him ; in fact, the request 
 had been presented as a favor to those who were ready to 
 adopt him. But all this could not take away the sting 
 which the better remembrance of his hasty conduct caus 
 ed his heart to suffer. It was a continual goad within 
 often causing him to cry out, " Oh Lord,' lay not this sin 
 to my charge deal not with me as I deserve." The re 
 lief which he had experienced had, however, a salutary 
 influence in softening the almost indurated condition of 
 his feelings. This sad state had been most aptly express 
 ed in his utterance of grief in the presence of Mr. Ran 
 som. " The heavens over him were brass and the earth 
 iron." The face of God was clouded, and wrath seemed 
 wrapped about him as a thick cloud. Some light now 
 was breaking through the darkness, and occasionally his 
 wounded spirit could perceive rays of mercy lining its
 
 72 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 gleam. Not long after the scenes described in a former 
 chapter, a gentleman from a distance called upon him to 
 make inquiry concerning a claim which Mr. Herbert held 
 against a man in the state of Ohio. 
 
 " I wish to know," the gentleman said, " whether you 
 hold any paper or obligation against one James Reynolds 
 formerly of Saugerties in this State." 
 
 " I do hold a note far one thousand dollars ; it has been 
 due for more than five years ; it was for money loaned 
 him, and for which at the time he was in pressing need. 
 He was an intimate friend, and I borrowed the funds to 
 accommodate him. He wanted the money only for a 
 short time. He was a clever fellow, and I firmly believed 
 -a very honest man. He was, however, not able to meet 
 the payments, and I was obliged in consequence to mort 
 gage my property in order to refund the money to the 
 person from whom I borrowed it, and that, with other 
 claims and losses, finally compelled me to sell everything 
 I possessed." 
 
 " You are right, sir, in your belief that Mr. Reynolds 
 was an honest man. He lamented long his inability to 
 return you this money, but fortune was against him. Just 
 before his death, however, a rise took place in property 
 around us; he had purchased quite a tract on speculation. 
 He died by a lingering disease, the consumption. Near 
 his last days, he saw plainly that there was a prospect 
 that his speculation would turn out well enable him to 
 die owing no man anything, and probably leaving a com 
 petence to his family. One debt, however, beyond all 
 others he felt deeply anxious should be cancelled and as 
 soon as possible after his death. He knew, he said, that 
 the obligation had been a cause of suffering to the indi 
 vidual who had loaned him the money, but still that pei- 
 son had never used any means to harrass him, nor even 
 written a harsh word when urging if possible that his 
 claim should be paid. And he enjoined upon those who 
 were to have the charge of his affairs, to hasten matters as 
 fast as could be, and to see to it that Randolph Herbert's 
 claim should be paid among the very first. And now, 
 sir, let me see the note." 
 
 Mr. Herbert soon produced the document in question.
 
 LOOKIKG AROUND. 73 
 
 " Please cast up the interest on it, Mr. Herbert." 
 
 " I do not wish interest, sir ; the principal will be all 
 sufficient if that can be paid, it is all I shall ever ask." 
 
 " But, sir, the interest is as much your due as the prin 
 cipal, and it was Mr. Reynolds' express desire that thus it 
 should be paid." 
 
 The calculation was accordingly made, and the amount 
 summed up nearly fourteen hundred dollars. The gentle 
 man drew forth his pocket book, laid down his money, 
 took the note into his possession, and after a short con 
 versation on the changes and chances of life, and of busi 
 ness life in particular, he took his departure. 
 
 For a while Mr. Herbert sat almost stupefied by this 
 sudden and unexpected relief. It was more than he ever 
 hoped again to have in his possession. It would enable 
 him to avoid, if properly taken care of, some personal 
 trials that had been most grievous to bear bonds of a 
 nature aggravating almost beyond endurance, were as by 
 a miracle suddenly burst asunder, a weight rolled off 
 from his oppressed heart. A sense of freedom stole over 
 his mind, the joy of which could only be realized by one 
 who had been long and hopelessly bound beneath a galling 
 yoke. He was alone in a room exclusively appropriated 
 to his own use ; gladly would he have called his wife and 
 communicated to her his good tidings, but he knew there 
 would be no sympathy with his joy, and more than prob 
 able the information would only tend to some new trial. 
 Oh, that his Willie were by him ! how he would draw 
 him to his heart, and how they would rejoice together 
 over this manifestation of divine goodness ! Yes, it was 
 indeed a token of divine goodness, and now his heart be 
 gins to feel those kindly emotions toward his Heavenly 
 Father, to which for years he had been a stranger. This 
 was a gift of money, a gift to one who had been a wan 
 derer one who had almost denied his master who had 
 tasted the heavenly gift, but had allowed the pleasures of 
 the world to injure his devotion to duty and the cause of 
 truth. In the time of distress and sorrow he had not 
 cast all his care on God, and gone manfully forward to 
 some work of usefulness, but had ventured to relieve his 
 present need by a device neither manly or just. He had 
 4
 
 74 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 pledged himself to love and keep one whom he did not 
 respect, and for whom he had no ability to provide. He 
 had made use of God's holy ordinance of marriage for a 
 mean and selfish end. These facts had been pressing 
 themselves upon his notice, as every new trial had come 
 upon him but the last, the loss as he feared of his Wil 
 lie had -broken down every barrier, laid open his con 
 duct clearly to his own vision, and^ the sight had filled 
 him with dismay. He was conscience stricken. Guilty, 
 guilty, was his plea, but thre was no tear of penitence 
 no going back to him from whom he had wandered for 
 the throne above was barred, and he had no Father there. 
 " The heavens over him were brass and the earth iron." 
 Still there was a yearning for those, hopes he once enjoy 
 ed. He could say, " My heart panteth for God, for the 
 living God." 
 
 The first gleam of light came with the tidings that his 
 son was safe. There was a loosening of the bolts and 
 bars of his prison house. He could see a little, and more 
 and more daily since that hour, how a father may chasten 
 but his wrath be turned away; and as that blessed truth 
 unfolded to his view his heart softened and took courage 
 he could bear the stripes if he could only truly know 
 they were inflicted by the hand of love. 
 
 And now this second mercy come to him as though 
 the Heavens had opened above him, and a messenger had 
 descended with a token in his hand that he was still ac 
 knowledged as a son. Providential dispensations cannot 
 always be understood nor their end interpreted by, neav 
 sighted, feeble man. " God sendeth his rain and his sun 
 shine on the evil and on the good." The wicked often 
 prospereth while the righteous are smitten, and go mourn 
 ing in heaviness. And yet, to the child of God, who has 
 learned to scrutinize the dealings of providence, and to 
 trace the leadings of the Divine hand, there is often a 
 clear view of the cause and the effect which others can 
 not perceive. He can see the reason for the judgment, 
 and notice the mercy mingled with it, and his mouth ut 
 ters no complaint ; it was not a chance that happened to 
 him even if it were the result of his own improvidence, 
 still, he sees back of that an overruling power, causing
 
 '*'. 
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 75 
 
 his wisdom fb be turned into foolishness for the punish 
 ment of his transgressions, or for the weaning his confi 
 dence in the earthly state, and fixing it more steadfastly 
 on divine care. 
 
 The effect in the mind of Mr. Herbert, was to fill it 
 with gratitude, and to give him a clearer perception of 
 the ways of God with man. The great trial of his life 
 still he must bear, but now the burden was not so griev 
 ous, and although no hope dawned upon him in refer 
 ence to that great mistake although there were to be 
 for him no sweet communings with a kindred spirit 
 no enjoyment of that tender love of which he had once 
 tasted, and he must plod along to his journey's end with 
 a companion by his side whose low tastes and contract 
 ed views allowed no spmpathy between them, yet he 
 would not murmur against the severe infliction ; he had 
 done the wrong, and was alone to blame. God had been 
 merciful and granted an alleviation from some of the 
 more bitter ingredients of the cup. He saw that the 
 trial was of a nature not to be removed but by a miracu 
 lous work of God's spirit which he had no reason to ex 
 pect. It must be a thorn in his flesh in all probability dur 
 ing the rest of his journey, but that was no evidence 
 he was not forgiven. Paul had to carry a thorn which 
 he had earnestly prayed to be taken from him, but the 
 only answer he received was that " he should have grace 
 to bear it." 
 
 Hereafter his life must be spent in the discharge of his 
 duty.. He had work to do it was confined to a narrow 
 sphere the world would know nothing of it, but it 
 would require the exercise of all the Christian graces, and 
 to show them forth even to eyes of but two or three, 
 might glorify his Father in heaven, and that was all the 
 stimulus he needed. 
 
 The following letter which Mr. Ransom received, writ 
 ten after his mind had become settled into a quiet state, 
 will perhaps best unfold his present views and feelings. 
 
 "My VERT DEAR SIR: I could wish you were by me 
 now, that I might enjoy the satisfaction of expressing to 
 you personally, the great benefit I have derived from the
 
 76 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 remarks you threw out in the course of our conference 
 together on the ways of God in His dealings with His 
 creatures, more and more especially with His true chil 
 dren. A little light opened upon me at that time, and it 
 has been growing brighter and brighter to me ever since. 
 I have indeed departed from God I have gone sadly 
 astray, but I have through infinite mercy not been per 
 mitted to lose that hankering for home, which I now firm 
 ly believe to be an earnest, that such a place is yet reserv 
 ed for me. The good mercy of God towards me in deal 
 ing so kindly with my dear Willie, and since then a re 
 newed token of God's goodness towards one so unworthy, 
 has caused me to judge that my trials are but chastise 
 ments, and that the rod is in a Father's hand. This thought 
 buoys me up and enables me with comparative cheerful 
 ness to bear the trials of rny lot. I find that the peace 
 of God in the heart is the infallible talisman, whose 
 charm nullifies evil, and throws a cheer around the most 
 gloomy path. 
 
 " It is not a very pleasant task for me, nor do I believe 
 it will be very agreeable to you, that I now proceed to ac 
 complish ; but on some accounts, I deem it right and prop 
 er that I should unfold to you those secrets of my life 
 which have a beai-ing upon our present relation to each 
 other, and I shall do it with all the confidence of a broth 
 er. I am surrounded with obstacles that prevent my doing 
 anything in the great work of life beyond that of stand 
 ing as a beacon, to warn others away from the dangerous 
 rocks on which I have been shipwrecked. You, as a min 
 ister of the gospel, may have occasion to use the facts I 
 reveal, for the benefit of many ; and as the friend and 
 guardian of my dear Willie, may feel more able to com 
 prehend what lessons would be useful to him, that he may 
 avoid the temptation to which his father has been expos 
 ed, and the sad condition into which his father has been 
 placed. 
 
 "In my days of boyhood, the thought never occurred 
 to me that I was ever to do anything by way of obtain 
 ing a livelihood, and from circumstances which I now re 
 call, I am led to the conclusion that my father too openly 
 encouraged that idea. I feel very sure now, that it would
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 77 
 
 have been a painful thought to him, that I should feel 
 there could possibly be need for any future exertions on 
 my part in order to obtain a living. I do not wish to 
 charge him with doing or feeling wrong. He had a most 
 affectionate heart, and was devoted to my happiness; and 
 yet I cannot but think it was a failing, and one most dis 
 astrous in its consequences. My time, when out of school, 
 was spent in amusement. Horses were at my command, 
 and servants to take care of them for me, and to bring 
 them and take them away at my bidding. At college my 
 wants were abundantly supplied without any care on my 
 part, or any suggestion from my father that I should be 
 careful of expenditure. Against immorality of every 
 shade he talked much, and wrote much, and I must think 
 his watch in that respect was attended with success, for 
 I never indulged in dissipation of any kind, and I suppose 
 the religious training of my youth had biased my mind 
 against such evils, so that when I left college my charac 
 ter was unstained by any loose indulgence. I did not 
 stand among the foremost in my class, but had a fair 
 knowledge of the studies I had pursued. With no pro 
 fession in prospect that was to be followed for a life busi 
 ness, I merely thought of acquitting myself decently. I 
 remember well the conversation my father held with me 
 after my return home on the subject of a profession. The 
 ministry he could not think of, because it would involve 
 a necessary separation from him, my mother having de 
 ceased, and my father in feeble health, to be separated 
 from me, his only child, he would not listen to. Medicine 
 he abhorred, and doctors he ridiculed. Lawyers too, 
 were in bad savor with him. But he said the study of 
 law was well enough, and he thought every gentleman 
 needed to know more or less of it, and I went into a law 
 yer's office for the greater part of one year, and became 
 somewhat fond of it, but the feeble health of my father 
 interfered so much with that pursuit, it was abandoned. 
 At my father's death, I was twenty-eight years of age, 
 and a more helpless person in reference to practical busi 
 ness of any kind, could hardly be found. The estate of 
 my father had been originally very large, but his easy hab 
 its had materially damaged it long before his death. His
 
 78 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 dislike of the law too, and his aversion to the employ 
 ment of men skilled in its practice for a defence against 
 imposition, laid him open to the arts of dishonest men, 
 by which means large losses were incurred and his love 
 of ease, and unwillingness to be cramped for the want of 
 ready money, threw him into the power of sharpers and 
 money lenders, so that with loans on mortgage and accu 
 mulated interest, and the very low price of land at the 
 time of his death, in consequence of a crisis in the money 
 market, a very large part of the estate was swept off, and 
 I found myself very far from being a rich man. Trained 
 as I had been hitherto, it will not surprise you to be told 
 that I was not a very provident manager, and that the 
 small estate left to me, soon began to grow smaller. At 
 tracted about this period by the beauty and lovely qual 
 ities of a lady to whom I was introduced at the city of 
 Boston, I courted and married her. She was the mother 
 of my dear Willie, and possessed of every quality calcu 
 lated to have made a man happy ; but how can a man be 
 happy in embarrassed circumstances ! Day by day, al 
 most throughout the whole period that lovely woman liv 
 ed as my wife, I was tormented with distracting care 
 owing money, which I could only pay by recourse to those 
 who loaned for large premiums, and returning that often 
 by sacrificing stock or produce at reduced value, or piling 
 mortgages upon my place. I feel sure that I did not 
 make an unkind husband, but it was not in the nature of 
 man under such a state of being, to keep a smooth brow, 
 or an unrufiied temper in the presence of even those he 
 loves most tenderly, and I have no doubt that dear wo 
 man had reason to feel that her married life, short as it 
 was, disappointed all the hopes she had indulged of con 
 jugal happiness. 
 
 " Soon after her death, things rushed to a crisis, and 
 my homestead was obliged to go under the hammer. 
 Only a pittance was left. My establishment of course was 
 broken up, the servants dismissed, and with my little Wil 
 lie I went to board. 
 
 " It was about a year, I think, after leaving the house 
 of my father, that I became engaged to a Miss Schmidt, 
 the daughter of a Dutch family, which had migrated from
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 79 
 
 New Jersey. They were respectable people, no doubt, in 
 their way, but without education or refinement. But 
 they were said to be rich, and the young lady especially 
 was reported to have an independent property of her own, 
 which she inherited from her grandparents, as it was said, 
 ' over the heads ' of her own parents. 
 
 " The young woman had no pretensions to beauty of 
 person, and her mind I well know was of quite a common 
 order, and without improvement. I saw nothing in her 
 that reminded me of the dear one I had lost. I thought 
 she had a mild temperament, and if not an affectionate 
 disposition, at least, of that pliable cast that could be won 
 by kindness. In both particulars, however, I have been 
 disappointed ; but not more so than I deserved, for to 
 tell you the naked truth, I courted and married her for 
 money. 
 
 " I hear you say, ' how could a man of education, and 
 one who had known the power and blessedness of true 
 love have been thus ensnared by a golden bait, and done 
 violence to his reason and his nature ! I answer it by un 
 folding two terrible facts in my life story. 
 
 " First, I was a poor dependent on any freak of fortune. 
 I had no preparation for a life work. I had learned 
 nothing to any account. Physically unable to earn a liv 
 ing by the sweat of my brow, and with no mental train 
 ing that would then enable me to provide for myself and 
 child in any professional calling, I was in the condition 
 of the man in the parable, ' he could not dig, to beg he 
 was ashamed.' This sad condition filled my heart with 
 anguish, made me envy the daily laborer who, with rough 
 garments and rough hands passed me on the way to his 
 honest, though laborious task. In my view he was hap 
 py, and I a poor, helpless wretch. This condition so hope 
 less, so desperate, urged me to the fatal act. 
 
 " But the second reason I give is of more significance 
 still. I was a wanderer from the fold of Christ. My 
 faith and hope were mere twinkling stars amid the dark 
 ness which enshrouded my soul. I had been seriously 
 impressed, when quite young ; and under the advice of an 
 incompetent pastor, as I now believe him to have been, 
 I united with the church. My religious feelings were for
 
 80 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 the time warmly excited, but my views of the doctrines 
 of religion and its practical truth, bearing on the heart 
 and life, were obscure in the extreme. I had no teacher. 
 "With my father, on the subject of religion, I never com 
 municated, nor he with me. The grosser sins were all 
 that he seemed anxious to have me avoid, and to those I 
 was never addicted ; but that the Christian graces should 
 be in lively exercise that God's word should be studied 
 as my rule in all things that a constant watch should be 
 kept over my heart, to keep out all evil, and to bring eve 
 ry thought into obedience to Christ, he never hinted at. 
 
 From the pulpit I received no help. The disjointed, 
 rambling discourses of our minister, had no influence 
 whatever, in unfolding the true Christian life. Nor did 
 he know any more of what I believed, nor what progress 
 I was making as a Christian, than I did of the design he 
 meant to accomplish in the delivery of his common-place 
 half-hour lecture, which he called a sermon. He took no 
 pains whatever, after I was united with the church, and 
 my name enrolled among the communicants, to ascertain 
 my spiritual condition, nor do I believe he did that of his 
 other young members ; and as far as my knowledge ex 
 tends, few amongst our members exhibited any more of 
 the life of Christ, than did others of the congregation 
 whose lives were merely not scandalous. Under such 
 circumstances, with little apparent life in the church, and 
 less in the minister, it is no marvel if what little piety I 
 ever had, should have nearly died out in fact, my reli 
 gion was a mere name, and the only restraint upon my 
 passions, was the moral nurture I received in early days, 
 and the idea that, as a member of the church, any gross 
 sin would be notorious. Every thing like hope or joy in 
 God, or love to the word of God, or striving after like 
 ness to Jesus Christ, was as foreign to me, as if I had 
 never indulged the belief that my heart had become 
 changed. 
 
 "In this state of mind, as to my religious character, I 
 went to college. The influences there were not favorable 
 to piety, and on my final return home, I found indeed a 
 new minister, but there was division in the church, and 
 my father being one of those unfavorably disposed, was
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 81 
 
 very willing to excuse himself from attendance on public 
 worship, on the plea of ill health, and I very naturally fol 
 lowed his example, attending only occasionally, and very 
 carefully avoiding communion Sabbaths. The fact was, 
 I became so conscious of my want of spiritual life, that 
 the very sight of the emblems of a Saviour's love, filled 
 me with self reproach and terror. 
 
 Thus it was through all my first married life distrac 
 tion without, and a guilty conscience within, and when 
 death came to my abode, and took my dear partner from 
 my side, and the execution of the law followed and took 
 my homestead from my grasp, I felt like one deserted of 
 God and man. A dark cloud settled around me, and all I 
 cared for, was a home to rest in, and worldly means 
 whereby I could live decently from fear of want. 
 
 " And now you will not wonder how it was that I could 
 have prostituted the sacred ban of marriage to the base 
 lust of gain that I could solemnly promise to love and 
 cherish one whose hand I sought as a refuge from pover 
 ty. It was a base act the basest of my life. But I 
 was, in the righteous judgment of God, caught in my own 
 net. The Holy Father whose name is love, would not 
 permit such a violation of His own institution without re 
 buke. Little by little the terrible sin of the step I had 
 taken unfolded in the disappointment of my expectation 
 as to property, and the more terrible certainty that the 
 heart of her I had married was only susceptible of the 
 very lowest of all passions she had an insatiable love 
 of money. 
 
 " What I have suffered from this cause, I have no heart 
 to tell you, nor could the revelation do any good. And 
 perhaps you will say, ' of what avail has it been that I 
 have harrowed your feelings by this sad recital ! ' My rea- 
 spn for it is this. I am myself a lost man, so far as this 
 world is concerned my life a waste. But, and I thank 
 God for that one ray of joy upon my cloud of sin and sor 
 row, I still live in my children. That dear boy, whom 
 God in his great mercy has taken away from scenes of 
 confusion and trial, and placed amid the peace and beau 
 ty of a happy home, will bear my life still onward, when 
 my weary, useless journey shall have ended. I want him
 
 82 LOOKING ABOUND, 
 
 to be warned of the rocks on which his father has been 
 wrecked, to be trained for usefulness, to be taught that 
 beyond all worldly maxims, the holy pi-ecepts of the Bi 
 ble are to be regarded as the only rules that lead to vir 
 tue and happiness. And, oh sii - , if thus it might be, and 
 my Willie should become a man, resolute in duty, strong 
 in holy principles, a light and a comfort and a stay to 
 them who may be cast upon his care, a man, pure and 
 true I shall leel that my poor life shall not have been 
 in vain. 
 
 " I herewith send you two hundred dollars to be used 
 at your option for my dear boy. God in his mercy has 
 sent me some relief from the straitened situation in which 
 I was placed when first introduced to you, and I can part 
 with this sum without inconvenience. May God bless 
 you and your dear wife, and reward you an hundred fold 
 for your kindness. 
 
 Your unworthy but obliged friend, 
 
 RANDOLPH HERBERT." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 It was two years after the scenes narrated in the two 
 first chapters of our story, in the latter part of October, 
 that "William Herbert was preparing to go to mill with 
 quite a large grist in general, this matter was accom 
 plished by throwing a couple of bags across the back of 
 Grey, with William mounted on them but as there 
 were too many bags to be accommodated in this way, and 
 as Mr. Ransom wished to use Grey himself, resource was 
 had to a neighbor for the loan of a horse and cart or 
 wagon. The cart being the only vehicle not in use, much 
 to the discomfort of William, he was obliged to accept of 
 it, and a horse very much the contrast of the fine, fat, 
 slick Grey. The establishment was not one that William 
 fancied, the cart being old and somewhat dilapidated, and
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 83 
 
 the horse not only aged, but bony and shaggy, with a halt 
 in one leg. He would certainly have put off going to 
 mill if necessity had not demanded that some part of the 
 grist should be in the house for use, before the day was 
 out. It may as well be said here, that a few years had 
 made a vast difference in the amount of produce that went 
 to mill from the little parsonage farm. As the reader al 
 ready knows, it contained only twelve acres, and when Mr. 
 Ransom took possession, it was a mere common, useless 
 for anything but pasture, and unsightly from the bushes 
 and wild vines that had taken possession along the lines 
 of fences. He saw at ence that the place in its present 
 condition would be of no value to him, nor to any other 
 inheritor. To leave it so' would be to him personally an 
 eye sore. He believed by proper culture it could be made 
 to yield enough to pay for the cost at least, and that, with 
 the improvement in appearance, would be a gain. As his 
 own time could not be given to any such side work, he 
 employed a man of sober habits, faithful to work, and as 
 it turned out, with quite a taste for keeping things in or 
 der, and skill enough in farming to know how to do what 
 ever needed to be done in the best manner, and in the 
 right time, but not by any means an expert in the art of 
 enriching land, and so rotating crops as to make ten acres 
 produce as much as thirty would under common culture. 
 Mr. Ransom, however, knew that the direction in that re 
 spect, would require but very little of his own time. In 
 one half hour he could designate all the work necessary 
 to be accomplished through the day, and all the thought 
 required in making the most of this little estate, would be 
 a relaxation from severer study. 
 
 The first year was pretty much taken up in clearing off 
 rubbish, repairing fences and out buildings, and in ar 
 ranging things around the dwelling house and garden, and 
 as has already been said, an entire new aspect was put upon 
 the premises. The house itself, presented to the road a 
 stone front of some forty feet, one story in height with two 
 domer windows projecting from the roof a double house 
 as generally styled, with a hall through its centre and 
 rooms on each side. Attached to the body of the house 
 on the north side, was a wing of sufficient size to form a
 
 84 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 comfortable kitchen ; this too fronted the road. It was of 
 wood and painted red. Two small yards ran before the 
 buildings, and were separated from each other by a slight 
 fence, and denominated severally the court-yard and the 
 kitchen yard. The latter contained within its bounds the 
 well and cistern, the wood-pile and etceteras necessary for 
 domestic purposes. It was in rather a confused condition 
 when Mr. Ransom commenced his experiment of keeping 
 house as a bachelor, for it had been made a depot appar 
 ently of all the rubbish a neighborhood could have accu 
 mulated. But things were soon routed out that had no 
 business there, and Aunt Alice's yard, as it was often call 
 ed she having become a fixture in the establishment of 
 Mr. Ransom rivaled in neatness and order, its close 
 neighbor with the ti'im flower beds and ornamental shrub 
 bery. The garden intervened between the dwelling house 
 and barn, and lay along the road, so that it was in fair 
 view, and could be either from its nice culture and thrifty 
 aspect and floral adornments, a joy to the passer by, and 
 a stimulus to go and do likewise, or a source for little 
 slants and strange surmisings, and hard conclusions if al 
 lowed to take care of itself, and nurse its own rank weeds. 
 People will judge one another in regard to many things 
 from associates and surroundings. Mr. Ransom thought, 
 aside from his own taste in such matters, that some part 
 of his influence depended upon the aspect which he him 
 self and his premises presented to his people. 
 
 But an agreeable appearance was not the only advan 
 tage obtained from the wise management of Mr. Ransom. 
 The little farm had become very productive. Not only 
 his horse and cow were abundantly supplied with choice 
 food, so that they both were in the finest condition, but a 
 great part of the provision for his family came from the 
 same source, and the bags of grain, which Peter, the hired 
 man, had put into the old cart, were some of them wheat 
 and rye, for the family, and coi-n for the horse and pig. 
 
 " And you will be careful, Mr. Willie, to sit well in the 
 front of the cart, for the load is a little too heavy behind. 
 I suppose I ought to change it, but if you keep well to the 
 front, it wont matter."
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 85 
 
 " I will, Mr. Peter, but it would not surprise me if the 
 whole concern came down together it is very shaky." 
 
 " You must go slow, then, and be careful of the ruts." 
 
 "1 think there will not be much danger of my making 
 great speed. I do hate to drive such a horse." 
 
 "Ay, ay, Mr. Willie, you'd much rather have bonny 
 Grey I warrant you, but in case of a break down, I am 
 not sure but this will be the safest beast, but you will 
 make all the speed you can, with safety, for Aunt Alice 
 says she must have the wheat flour at any rate but you 
 are not going to the mill with your good clothes on, my 
 boy!" 
 
 " I thought to do so they are not my best." 
 
 " That's true, and yet they're too good to go into the 
 old dirty mill, and to be handling bags of meal with ; the 
 le"ast you can do, is to put on your frock and overalls." 
 
 William had some private reasons for not wishing to 
 make the proposed change, but his own judgment so de 
 cidedly agreed with the advice of Mr. Peter, that he dare 
 not allow his feelings to have their way; he knew that 
 meal dust was by no means wholesome for good broad 
 cloth. The change was soon made, and William Herbert, 
 the gentleman's son, was transformed into a very good 
 looking farmer's boy. 
 
 Now, in general, William would have no scruples what 
 ever, in going into any part of the parish in his present 
 rig, but on the road to the mill there stood a dwelling 
 house of some pretensions, and at present there were vis 
 itors at it from the city of New York, and although the 
 house was so far from the road, that it would have been 
 difficult to distinguish individuals, yet on two occasions 
 when riding out lately for amusement, he had met a lad 
 of about his own age, and a young lady, of what age he 
 could not guess, her long riding dress making her appear 
 much older than she really was on horseback. They were 
 handsomely dressed, and on beautiful horses, and rodo 
 with ease, as though accustomed to the exercise. From 
 the peculiar cast of countenance of the young gentleman 
 as he passed them, he judged the young lady had made 
 some remark of a disparaging nature, and that the young 
 man was only restrained from a fit of laughter by a strong
 
 86 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 effort. He certainly saw a peculiar smile on the face of 
 the young lady. 
 
 Now, what there was in or about him to excite laugh 
 ter, he could not imagine. He knew that Grey was in 
 food condition and bore himself nobly, and as to his own 
 i-ess he knew that was as good as any of his age wore 
 in that vicinity he could not see how it materially dif 
 fered from that of the young stranger, and if it was his 
 style of riding that was the subject for ridicule, it had 
 been taught him by Mr. Ransom, and he knew a better 
 rider was seldom seen. But as there is nothing about 
 which a youth of his age is so alive as ridicule, and as he 
 had got the impression that for some reason he was the 
 subject of jest, and that on the part of the young lady 
 too, of whose sex William was in general very shy, he 
 allowed himself to be prejudiced against them both, and 
 sincerely hoped he might not meet them, and especially 
 in his present trim. 
 
 Mounting his cart and giving the old horse a cut that 
 being an absolute necessity for the beginning of any lo 
 comotion he went on his way at first, by an indefinite 
 sort of trot, gradually subsiding into a walk, which latter 
 pace William was quite reconciled to endure, opposed as 
 he was to it in general, rather than the sight of the limp 
 and the uncouth motion it imparted to the cart. The 
 distance to the mill was nearly two miles, and two thirds 
 of it was passed over, when to his inexpressible chagrin, 
 he saw the two individuals most upon his mind, just then 
 turning from their avenue into the highway, and coming 
 towards him. As quick as thought, at the first sight of 
 them and before they could have noticed him, he sprang 
 from the broad seat which had been placed so near the 
 fore end that his feet had dangled over the outside, and 
 threw himself on one of the bags of grain, and pulled the 
 board on which he had been seated, from its place, and 
 laid it beside him. The only advantage gained by this 
 move, was a little less distinguished position. He felt 
 that the body of the cart would be a sort of screen, at 
 least it was not so likely to attract notice as the one he 
 left. He had, however, in his energy to avoid one evil 
 forgotten the injunction of Mr. Peter to " keep well in
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 87 
 
 front." He noticed, however, that the jolting of the cart 
 was exceedingly increased, and that the bolt which con 
 fined the body to the shafts worked at every step of the 
 horse, as if it had more to bear than it could well sustain, 
 and that the belly girth was strained so tight that the old 
 horse had some extra efforts to make in keeping his fore 
 feet on the ground, he had to scratch hard as if going up 
 hill. William knew at once the cause for all this, but 
 there was no time to remedy matters not just then, for the 
 two riders were coming on at a fleet pace. It was a beau 
 tiful sight if he had been in a mood to enjoy it ; their 
 horses kept step together on a free canter. Beautiful an 
 imals were both of them, and the young riders full of life 
 and joy, were chatting and laughing merrily. William 
 saw them looking earnestly at him ; they were both smil 
 ing to be sure, but not necessarily at him. He felt very 
 uncomfortable, and to relieve himself gave the old horse 
 a cut. The riders were just beside him, in the act of 
 passing. There was a slight crack as the old horse start 
 ed at the application of the lash, and in the twinkling of 
 an eye, William found himself and his bags lying togeth 
 er in the road, and the old cart with its fore end pointing 
 in the direction of the North Star, or some other heaven 
 ly body. He called out whoa, quite lustily, which at once 
 caused a cessation of speed, but no letting down of the 
 upward tendency of the fore end. The aspect of affairs 
 was indeed very ludicrous, and he would himself, under 
 almost any other circumstances, have indulged a hearty 
 laugh, but it is one thing to laugh at one's own mishaps, 
 and a very different affair when one is laughed at. The 
 young lady did laugh, after recovering from the start 
 which the alarm of her horse had given her and perceived 
 that nobody was hurt. She did laugh, and really no one 
 in his senses could have blamed her. But William heai'd 
 it, for it was a beautiful, clear, ringing laugh, just such as 
 one might expect to hear from a lively, joyous girl of 
 twelve years of age. It, however, rung on the ears of 
 William like the grating of the most terrible discord. 
 He was mortified at his mishap vexed at himself for 
 want of thought troubled to know how to right mat 
 ters, and altogether in a very uncomfortable state of mind.
 
 88 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 
 
 The young gentleman on horseback at once dismounted, 
 and handing the bridle reins to his companion, stepped up 
 to the scene of trouble, and with a pleasant voice, al 
 though somewhat broken by his effort to restrain a laugh, 
 said : 
 
 " Shall I not help you ? Will you not need assist 
 ance?" 
 
 With a highly flushed countenance, and his eye spark 
 ling with resentment, William answered, 
 
 " No sir, your help is not needed." 
 
 There was no acknowledgment of the act of politeness 
 in coming to his aid, and the tone of the voice, hard and 
 quick, the fire from his eye and the flushed face, all were 
 of a piece. The young gentleman looked surprised 
 stood a moment as in doubt whether to say anything fur 
 ther, and then with a slight bow, in silence returned, and 
 mounting his horse the two riders went on their way. 
 
 William soon found that he did need help. He had not 
 sufficient strength alone, to right the iipturned body with 
 all the bags of grain, now lying close packed at the lower 
 end. He might indeed haul them out, and thus relieve 
 the unfortunate cart body, but how was he to lift the bags 
 again into it, when once in its horizontal position ! He 
 might possibly have strength to sustain a bag on his shoul 
 der when placed there, but how was he to get it there ? 
 He was certainly in a very unpromising condition to com 
 ply with the injunction, "to make all remarkable dispatch 
 as the flour was needed." 
 
 " You want some help, my boy, I'm a thinking." 
 
 William turned, and saw a man approaching, who had, 
 unperceived by him, just sprung over the fence from an 
 adjoining field. Never was he more rejoiced. Yes, he 
 wanted help, he wanted it badly, and was now quite free 
 to acknowledge it. And when things were all righted, 
 and the vehicle again prepared for progress, he could 
 hardly find words sufficiently strong to satisfy his sense 
 of obligation. 
 
 Nothing further occurred as a hindrance, and sooner 
 than he had any reason to hope he was on his way back 
 to the parsonage. 
 
 Mr. Ransom had returned, and was in his study about
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 89 
 
 the middle of the afternoon, when William entered it. 
 He had the liberty of free access there at all times when 
 the door was unlocked. 
 
 " Ah, Willie, you have got back safely, I hope ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " I almost feared when Peter told me what a frail con 
 cern you went with, that you might very likely have a 
 break down." 
 
 " I had a tip up, sir. A wooden pin that secured the 
 bolt, broke and let the cart body over, but no damage was 
 done. A man in a field close by, came and fixed it for 
 me. Do you think, sir, that Grey is too tired to go a 
 couple of miles this afternoon ? " 
 
 " Too tired ! No, who wants him? " 
 
 " I do sir." 
 
 " Oh, take him, certainly." 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 Having obtained the desired permission, his next" move 
 was to the barn, where he spent a full half hour in rub 
 bing, brushing and combing his favorite, until he looked 
 his very best ; saddled and bridled him, and then led him 
 to a stand under the shed, his usual place when harnessed 
 for an exciirsion. From thence he proceeded to his room 
 and changed his dress, completely arraying himself in his 
 newest apparel. 
 
 Being in general very careful of his clothes, it was 
 somewhat a surprise to Mrs. Ransom, to see him pass 
 throiigh the hall, and in a few minutes ride past the house 
 thus clad, and with an extra finish to his whole outfit. He 
 was not home to supper, and as they sat down to the ta 
 ble, Mrs. Ransom remarked : 
 
 " I wonder where Willie has gone, this afternoon. Do 
 you know, my dear ? " 
 
 " I do not ; why do you ask ? " 
 
 "He made such unusual preparation. He does not, 
 you know, in general, wear his best clothes, especially if 
 going on horse-back ; and it is not usual for him to ride 
 off without saying something to me, in case I might have 
 some errand in the direction he was going." 
 
 " He asked my permission to use the horse, he wanted 
 to go about a couple of miles, he said. I made no inqui-
 
 90 V LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 ries as to where he was going, as I do not like to have 
 him imagine that I distrust his judgment, or feel it neces 
 sary to keep an eye on all his motions. He will probably 
 of his own account, tell one or both of us on his return." 
 
 The errand on which William was bound, was the re 
 sult of wholesome reflection on the scenes of the morning. 
 When that young man left him, without making any re 
 ply to the surly answer he received, the conscience of 
 William began to exercise her power, and very soon 
 awoke him to sense of wrong on his part wholly inexcu 
 sable. He had allowed his suspicions to work unchecked, 
 until they had led him to lower himself beneath the char 
 acter of a gentleman. He became utterly ashamed of his 
 rude behaviour, and resolved to lose no time in repairing 
 his error as far as possible, by making a suitable apology, 
 and he was on his way now, to do it. 
 
 He was but slightly known at the house to which he 
 was going, and a perfect stranger to" the young persons 
 whose motions had worked up his bad feelings; he did 
 not know their names. He knew that the owner of the 
 place had lately purchased, and had removed there from 
 New York. He knew that his name was Douglas, and 
 he had seen him at Mr. Ransom's, and had heard that 
 gentleman speak well of him as a Christian, and a man of 
 more than ordinary information, and that he considered 
 him quite an addition to their society. He had heard also 
 that Mr. Douglas had friends from New York staying 
 there, but their names he did not know, and supposed of 
 course the young persons with whom he had come so un 
 pleasantly in contact, were some of these visitors. 
 
 He did not ride fast, although he was in haste to accom 
 plish his^ task. It was, of course, not a very pleasant un 
 dertaking, but he meant to go through with it, and the 
 sooner it was done and over, the better ; and yet he kept 
 Grey on a moderate pace, for he wished to keep himself 
 cool, and his thoughts collected. He might meet with a 
 rebuflj and have his feelings severely tried, and therefore 
 he wished to be well prepared by thinking, not of the 
 words he was to say, but of the obligation he was under 
 as^a gentleman to make the amende honorable, and to do 
 it in a proper spirit. He hoped too, by riding at a slow
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 91 
 
 pace, that he might meet the persons he was in quest of; 
 it might be a very awkward business when he got there, 
 especially as he was unacquainted with their names. 
 
 His wish, however, was not granted ; he met no one on 
 the road. He turned up resolutely into the fine wide av- 
 enne, and then, for the first time, he saw two horses stand 
 ing near the house. They were fastened, and doubtless 
 waiting for the riders. One of them had on a lady's sad 
 dle, and as he drew near he perceived that they were the 
 same he had met in the morning. He dismounted, and 
 was tying his horse to a post, when two gentlemen emerg 
 ed from the house, and took seats on the piazza. As soon 
 as he had fastened his horse, he walked up the steps, and 
 as Mr. Douglas, who was one of the gentlemen, recogniz 
 ed him, he at once arose, and taking his hand and leading 
 him up to the other, said, 
 
 " Mr. Stanley, this is Master William Herbert." 
 
 The gentleman, on taking his hand, gave him, as Wil 
 liam thought, rather a severe look. Of ^course he suppos 
 ed the scene of the morning had been rehearsed, and this 
 gentleman, doubtless the father of one or both of the 
 young people, was merely manifesting a very natural dis 
 pleasure. 
 
 " Mr. Douglas," said William, " is the young gentleman 
 in, who rode out from here this morning, accompanying a 
 young lady ? They were on horseback." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Charlie, you mean." 
 
 " I have never heard his name, sir. Can I see him ? " 
 
 " By all means, but you say you don't know his name, 
 and yet sure enough, he has only been at home a few days. 
 Charlie Douglas, come here." He gave a good loud call, 
 and immediately William perceived the said Charlie walk 
 ing with a quick step through the hall, followed by the 
 young lady, and both appareled for riding. 
 
 " Come, Charlie, I want to introduce you to this young 
 gentlemen." 
 
 This was rather an unpleasant turn to matters, under 
 the circumstances. However ready William might have 
 been to make the acquaintance, he could not but feel that 
 with the remembrance by the young man of the rude 
 treatment he had received a few hours ago, he, William
 
 92 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 could hardly be acknowledged as a fair specimen of a gen 
 tleman, to say the least. It must not be so. Before he 
 gave his hand, he must wash out the foul blot ; he there 
 fore quickly responded to what Mr. Douglas had said : 
 
 " I am by no means sure, sir, that the young gentleman 
 will desire my acquaintance. I treated him very rudely 
 this morning, and have come here purposely to ask his 
 pardon." 
 
 " That was the very thing I was going to do to you the 
 next time I met you, for my rudeness in laughing at your 
 calamities," said young Douglas. 
 
 " Oh, but Mr. Charlie Douglas," said the young lady, 
 " please let me confess my own transgressions. It was I 
 who laughed, and I felt very much mortified when I saw 
 that you were tried by it," addressing William. " I hope 
 you will forgive it." 
 
 " I came to ask forgiveness, miss, not to grant it. Your 
 laughter is very excusable, indeed, I could have laughed 
 many times to-day, myself, when thinking of my ridicu 
 lous position, had it not been for the mortification I felt 
 on account of my rudeness. May I hope that you will 
 forget it?" .turning towards young Douglas. 
 
 " Forget it ! " putting out his hand, which William took, 
 " why, there is nothing to forget on my part, if you have 
 nothing on yours, I am very sure." 
 
 Mr. Douglas looked on with an air of amazement while 
 the young people were thus settling their difficulties 
 the whole matter was a riddle to him and then taking 
 William's hand : 
 
 " This whole concern is somewhat of a blind business 
 to me ; but if I understand aright, my good fellow, you 
 have imagined yourself to have done wrong, and have 
 come forward manfully, and I must say under somewhat 
 trying circumstances, to confess it and make reparation. 
 Whether you have done this of your own accord, I know 
 not, but you have acted a noble part you have risen a 
 hundred per cent in my estimation." 
 
 " I have done it, sir, of my own accord ; but it was not 
 for an imaginary transgression. I was in an unhappy 
 state of mind, and forgot, sir, for the moment, my obliga 
 tion to God and my fellows."
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 93 
 
 William did not say this without manifesting strong 
 emotion. His lips quivered and his bright eye suddenly 
 moistened ; all present perceived it. The young lady, 
 perhaps, was more particularly affected by it. She imme 
 diately stepped up and put out her hand. 
 
 " You will forgive me, will you not ? It is I who have . 
 caused all this trouble." 
 
 William took her hand and tried to answer, but the un 
 expected turn things had taken, together with the deep 
 excitement under which for some time he had been labor 
 ing, had quite overcome his manliness. The tears started 
 he wished to get away he bowed to the company, 
 and was about to leave them, when young Douglas caught 
 hold of him, and as he descended the steps went down to 
 wards the gate a few steps/ 
 
 " Now, come, you are not going away so. You must 
 not mind it, there has been a mistake all around. You 
 have done your part, and more than your part to mend it. 
 Come, go in the garden with me a few minutes," and tak 
 ing his arm they walked off together. 
 
 " Douglas," said the gentleman whom we have called 
 Stanley, " who is that young fellow ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell you much about him, only that he is un 
 der the care of the Rev. Mr. Ransom, our minister ; his 
 name is Herbert." . ; 
 
 " His father living ? Wealthy ? " 
 
 " I cannot say whether his father is living or not, but 
 I think not. He is not wealthy, however, for Mr. Ransom 
 in speaking to me as he did on one occasion about him, 
 remarked, that he should be glad to find a situation for 
 him with the right kind of person, and that he believed 
 he would do well, for he was very ambitious to do for 
 himself." 
 
 " Did you notice what a fine eye he has ? " 
 
 " Brilliant there is a good deal of the man about him, 
 depend upon it." 
 
 " Sis, come here," and Mr. Stanley called by this title 
 the young girl who had taken such a part in the little 
 scene just described ; she was his daughter. She was 
 standing at the other end of the piazza, and very likely 
 looking at the young gentleman, who, from her position,
 
 
 LOOKHTG ABOUND. 
 
 could be seen walking arm in arm in the garden. She 
 came quickly at the call, and did not seem to care that 
 the tokens of tears were manifest on her countenance. 
 
 " N"ow, daughter, I want you to tell us all about this 
 business. What has happened to make this little breeze ? " 
 
 " Well, papa, I will tell you all about it. You see, one 
 day when Charles and I were riding on horseback, we met 
 a young gentleman on a very handsome grey horse. 
 Charles says to me, ' how proudly that horse steps ! ' and 
 I turning to him said, ' how beautiful his rider sits, and 
 how very handsome he is ! ' ' 
 
 " Well done, Eva ! " exclaimed Mr. Douglas, indulging 
 a hearty laugh. " Charlie noticed the horse, but you was 
 taken up with noticing the fine eyes and curly hair, and 
 the pretty face of the young gentleman." 
 
 " Well, you see, Mr. Douglas, pa wanted me to tell all 
 about it, and so I had to tell that, for it was the beginning 
 of it." 
 
 " The beginning of what ? " Mr Douglas was the speak 
 er, Mr. Stanley remaining silent, but apparently an inter 
 ested listener. 
 
 " The beginning of all the trouble, you see, for when I 
 said to Charles, ' how beautiful the young gentleman rides, 
 and how handsome he is,' he turned towards me and 
 smiled, and I smiled too I know I did ; and just then the 
 grey horse and his rider were opposite to us, and I saw 
 the young gentleman look very pleasantly as if he were 
 going to salute us bow, or take off his cap but all at 
 once his countenance grew very sober, and he chirruped 
 to his horse and went off on a gallop. I thought then 
 thati. like as not he supposed we were laughing at him. 
 Well, in a few days after this we met him again, and as 
 soon as he was near enough to distinguish who he was, 
 Charles says to me, 
 
 " * There Eva ! there comes your fine rider, and hand 
 some young gentleman.' " 
 
 " Well you see that set me to laughing again. I was 
 not laughing at the stranger, but that Charles should bring 
 up what I said just at that time ; it was foolish in me I 
 know, but how you see could I help it. This time he nev 
 er turned his eyes towards us, but kept his hand playing
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 95 
 
 with the mane of his horse ; but this morning was the 
 worst of all. Just after we got out of the avenue into the 
 road, we saw coming towards us, a horse and cart ; a very 
 old looking horse with a very odd gait, and the cart, too, 
 looked old, and squeaked a little, just a very little, so we 
 could hear it. At first, we thought there was no driver, 
 but as we drew near, we perceived some one sitting down 
 low, and behind him bags of grain. He was dressed in a 
 farmer's frock. Charles did not recognize who it was, but 
 I did, and I says, ' Chaules, that is the young gentleman 
 whom we have met on the grey horse.' ' Is it ? ' said he. 
 ' You must have noticed him pretty sharply to be able to 
 know him in such a different garb.' This, I suppose, made 
 me smile again ; and just then the young man gave his 
 horse the lash, and he jumped a little, and all at once, up 
 went the fore end of the cart, and down went the young 
 man backwards among the bags, and was sitting down 
 flat in the road and hallooing whoa, whoa, to his horse. 
 I could not help laughing, and no doubt he heard me ; and 
 I'm so sorry I don't know what to do," and exhausted 
 with the excitement of telling over the whole scene, Eva 
 had to let the tears come freely. 
 
 " Well, well, my darling," said Mr. Stanley, " I am glad 
 you are so sensitive of the feelings of others. I see the 
 whole thing now. The young man, no doubt, is very sen 
 sitive too, and very likely somewhat nettled because his 
 team was rather exceptionable, and his tumble down over 
 which, if no one had observed, he would no doubt have 
 laughed heartily, happening just as it did, and perhaps 
 hearing your laughter was a little more than he could stand, 
 but it is all well settled now, and I must have a talk with 
 him." 
 
 Very soon the two young men were seen coming in 
 from the garden. Eva dried her tears as well as she could, 
 and as they came up to her, Charles said : 
 
 " Now we are all going to have a ride together, but I 
 must first introduce you to my friend here, Miss Eva Stan 
 ley, Mr. William Randolph Herbert." Both smiled pleas 
 antly, and were about to go towards the gate, when Wil 
 liam, turning to the two gentlemen, who were still on the 
 piazza, removed his cap and bowed.
 
 96 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 " Stop, stop," said Mr. Stanley, and immediately he ad 
 vanced towards the group. 
 
 " I want to take this young gentleman by the hand." 
 William immediately stepped forward. 
 
 " I wish to say to you that I have been highly gratified 
 to find one so young as you are, so tenacious of the char 
 acter of a gentleman. It is a term very much abused by 
 its application to those who have no real title to it, but it 
 is a word that has great meaning, and involves in its true 
 signification, all that is just and honorable and of good 
 report. You have fairly blotted out every mark that 
 might possibly, from this little mishap, have been made 
 against your claim as such, and I will say more you have 
 manifested a care for your character in that respect, that 
 gives assurance of its resting on a firm basis. Be a true 
 gentleman, and you can never be a bad man." 
 
 " I thank you, sir, very much for your kind opinion," 
 said William, " and hope I shall learn to behave better 
 next time." 
 
 Miss Eva allowed William to assist her in mounting, 
 and the little party rode off as happy as young hearts 
 could be. 
 
 The next morning Mr. Ransom was called from his study 
 to see two gentlemen, who were waiting for him in the 
 parlor. As he entered the room, Mr. Douglas arose to 
 meet him, and introduced his friend, Mr. Stanley. 
 
 " I ought to apologize to you, Mr. Ransom, for bring 
 ing my friend here on Saturday. It being the last day of 
 the week, you are doubtless occupied in your preparations 
 for the Sabbath, but Mr. Stanley feels that he must return 
 to New York the first of the week, and he is very desir 
 ous of a few minutes' conversation with you, and so I 
 thought I would venture to come. 
 
 " No apology is necessary, my dear sir, for I must tell 
 you, I never leave my preparation for the Sabbath to the 
 uncertainties of a last day. I have learned that by tak 
 ing things in time, much anxiety is prevented and the 
 evils of haste avoided. I therefore commence my labors 
 as other men do, on Monday morning, and Saturday is as 
 much at the command of my friends as any other. So 
 make yourselves, gentlemen, perfectly easy on that score."
 
 
 
 -,_.,-; 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 97 
 
 " My friend here," said Mr. Douglas, " wishes to have a 
 little talk with you about the young gentleman at present 
 under your care. By the way, have you known anything 
 of a little occurrence that took place yesterday, between 
 him and my son and Mr. Stanley's daughter ? " 
 
 " I have heard of it, sir. Last evening, William, as is 
 his custom if anything has occurred with him more than 
 usual, related to me I presume, the whole scene, and I 
 must say I was pleased to know that he has such sensi 
 tive feelings as to his character on the score of politeness. 
 He felt that he had transgressed the rules which should 
 govern a true gentleman, and was unhappy until he had 
 made atonement." 
 
 " Then," said Mr. Stanley, " if I have understood you 
 correctly, you did not know of the affair until it had been 
 settled." 
 
 " I knew nothing of it, sir, until after his return from 
 the house of Mr. Douglas, in company with the young 
 gentleman and lady, whom he brought in and introduced 
 to Mrs. Ransom and myself; and, from the very pleasant 
 terms on which the young people seemed to be with each 
 other, I should never have imagined there had been any 
 difficulty between them. Yes, sir, his acknowledgment 
 of the error he had committed was a spontaneous actj and 
 I am glad it was so." 
 
 " And I too, sir," responded Mi\ Stanley. " I will be 
 frank with you, Mr. Ransom, and say at once that I have 
 formed a very high opinion of the young man. Am I has 
 ty in my conclusion ? " 
 
 " I believe I can say, sir, that so far as regards perfect 
 truthfulness, an open, frank, manly behavior, under all 
 circumstances, and a kind and affectionate disposition, 
 you are correct. I would trust his integrity to any ex 
 tent." 
 
 "I should judge, sir, too, from his very countenance 
 that he has energy, not easily daunted in an undertaking." 
 
 " I think it will prove to be thus when he has an op 
 portunity to be tested. Of one thing I am sure, he has 
 an insatiable ambition to take care of himself; how much 
 business talent may be developed, remains of course for 
 5
 
 98 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 the future to unfold. In small matters he is prompt, or 
 derly and systematic." 
 
 " I am in want, Mr. Ransom, of a young person of his 
 age and of the qualities which I believe he possesses. 
 Does he wish to enter on a mercantile life, or has he some 
 other course in view ? " 
 
 " The mercantile profession has been that for which he 
 has been, I may say, industriously preparing. He has a 
 good knowledge of arithmetic not so rapid in his cal 
 culations as some, but very correct ; he also writes a fail- 
 hand. Book-keeping he has not yet attempted." 
 
 Mr. Stanley then went into particulars, not necessary 
 to detail here, and after all explanations had been entered 
 into, Mr. Ransom ordered William to be called. 
 
 He was at work near the barn, husking corn. He came 
 in just as he was, for the servant told him he was wanted 
 immediately. Although clad in his working clothes, he 
 manifested no feeling on that account, but saluted the 
 gentleman with a pleasant and easy manner. 
 
 As he came up to Mr. Ransom, the latter took his hand 
 and William stood beside him. 
 
 " You will remember, Willie, that I have endeavored 
 to impress upon you the truth, that the path of duty was 
 the surest way to peace of mind and permanent prosperi 
 ty. I believe in the little affair in which you was con 
 cerned yesterday, you conscientiously endeavored to fol 
 low that path. In doing so you have gained the appro 
 bation of your own conscience, which is a great thing to 
 begin with, and besides that, you have won the esteem of 
 one person at least, who is now ready to give you a fair 
 chance for a start in life. Mr. Stanley, here, offers to take 
 you into his store to provide for you, to teach you busi 
 ness, and prepare you for taking your stand among mer 
 chants, and winning by your own exertions an independ 
 ence. What say you to it, are you ready to go ? " 
 
 William was so confounded by the unexpected pro 
 posals, that for a moment he could not answer. His eye 
 was keenly fixed on Mr. Stanley. At length turning to 
 Mr. Ransom, 
 
 " Can you spare me, sir ? " 
 
 This was spoken with so much meaning that Mr. Ran 
 som was deeply moved.
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 99 
 
 " It will be hard parting with you, Willie, for you and 
 I are bound together by no common tie. But the hour 
 has come for which I have been endeavoring to prepare 
 you, and for which you have been very ambitious to pre 
 pare yourself. You have been faithful in your obedience 
 to me, and I have no doubt you will be faithful to Mr. 
 Stanley, and will win his confidence as you have mine, 
 and he can do for you much more than I ever could." 
 
 "No one can ever do for me, sir, what you have done." 
 This was said with great difficulty, for the big tears were 
 falling fast. 
 
 " He is right there," said Mr. Stanley. " No one can 
 ever do for him, sir, what you have done. You have laid 
 the foundation on which his future depends. You have 
 been dealing with his moral nature, and your image will 
 be mingled with all the better thoughts and feelings of 
 his life, and I will venture now, if he would express his 
 whole mind that he would say, ' no one can be to him 
 what you have been and are.'" 
 
 " Yes, sir, I do think so, I know it," said "William. 
 
 " And I will now leave the matter," said Mr. Stanley, 
 rising to depart. " Master William can think of my prop 
 osition, and make his mind in the course of the day to ac 
 cept or not." 
 
 William looked at Mr. Ransom, earnestly. 
 
 " My mind is made up now, sir, if you are willing." 
 
 " I am, and think it best that you should go." 
 
 " I thank you, sir, most truly," -said William turning to 
 Mr. Stanley, " for your kind offer. I will most gladly ac 
 cept of it." 
 
 " Then our business is finished." 
 
 " Do you return to New York soon, Mr. Stanley ? " said 
 Mr. Ransom. 
 
 " It was my design to have left here on Monday, but a 
 day or two will make no material difference. How soon 
 can Master William be in readiness ? " 
 
 " No doubt, sir, by Wednesday next." 
 
 " Then let that be the day." 
 
 In the arrangement with Mr. Stanley, one of the items 
 of consequence was, that William was to live in his fam 
 ily, and a most happy one for the boy ; but under the cir-
 
 100 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 cumstances, Mr. Ransom perceived it would require on 
 the part of the youth more than ordinary care to main 
 tain his right position as a member of the household and 
 a clerk in "the store, and he thought best to have a free 
 conversation with him on the subject. 
 
 " I have told you, William, that you are to become a 
 member of Mr. Stanley's family, as well as a clerk in his 
 business establishment, and you will have need to exer 
 cise care in so conducting yourself, that the freedom you 
 may be allowed in the house, does not lead you to disre 
 gard the strict discipline so requisite in the place of busi 
 ness ; for many things which might be proper in one place, 
 would be very much out of character in the other. Mer 
 chants, in general, expect from their clerks, especially the 
 younger ones, a strict and prompt obedience to their or 
 ders. There must be on your part a manifest readiness 
 to do on the instant whatever you may be required to do, 
 and your mind must be intent on the business before you. 
 You must be observing of all that is going on, and in that 
 way make yourself familiar with the details of business. 
 Let your whole energies be in exercise, and throw your 
 self heart and soul into the part entrusted to you. 
 'Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your 
 might.' Never disturb yourself about the future, nor be 
 too anxious about what you are to do when you shall ar 
 rive at age. Your great object should be to serve faith 
 fully your employer while under his control, and make 
 yourself master of your business. When the time comes 
 for you to take the responsibility of business upon your 
 self if you are thoroughly competent, openings will 
 present themselves but I would advise you to ' look 
 around 'well, before you take the burden and care on your 
 own shoulders. You will be more likely to succeed by 
 commencing for yourself at thirty than at twenty-one, 
 and at thirty-five than at thirty. Many wish to make a 
 short cut to fortune and independence, and start for them 
 selves very early in life. In most cases they only involve 
 themselves and others in misfortune. It takes a long 
 time to obtain the experience essential to success. 
 
 " Merchants not only require on the part of their clerks 
 strict obedience, attention and wide awake energy, but
 
 LOOKING ABOUND 
 
 101 
 
 also deferential and respectful deportment in their pres 
 ence ; but as you have already learned the more important 
 rules of politeness, you will only need to pay due regard 
 to these, in order to bear yourself correctly in this mat 
 ter. Deference and respect to superiors lie at the founda 
 tion of the true gentleman's character. 
 
 " There is but one item more I would mention, and it 
 may be a matter of some moment to you. I have been 
 pleased hitherto with your treatment of ladies, whether 
 old or young ; you have been duly attentive and respect 
 ful, while at the same time there has been a reticence con 
 nected with your attention that I highly commend. ISTow 
 as you are to be situated, this peculiarity may be of great 
 use to you. Mr. Stanley has but one child, a daughter, 
 the one with whom you have already a slight acquain 
 tance. Of course, it is not every young man of your age 
 that he would take into his house and allow the privileges 
 of an inmate there ; and I have no doubt the opinion he 
 has formed of your character as a gentleman, has had its 
 weight in giving you the offer of so favorable a situation. 
 Think of that, and govern yourself accordingly. The 
 young lady may, as she grows up, prove to be very amia 
 ble and attractive, or qualities may develop of an oppo 
 site character. The part of wisdom for you, as it seems 
 to me, would be that you should be ever ready to oblige, 
 and attentive to every request on the part of the young 
 lady, but not to allow your intimacy to run into familiar 
 ity. Be kind and courteous, but let there be a line mark 
 ed and definite, beyond which you do not allow yourself 
 to pass. This is my advice. 
 
 "Another item of serious importance to you, is that 
 you do not lay too much stress on the apparent friendly 
 feelings of your employer. Base all your calculations on 
 his self interest, and your own ability to be useful. Mer 
 chants, in general cannot afford to be governed by their 
 feelings ; they can no doubt materially assist the young 
 man who passes up through their hands, and many of 
 them do ; but seldom indeed unless they find from expe 
 rience that his services are essential to their own interest. 
 The only place where you can expect to gain such confi 
 dence and regard as may lead to your advancement, will
 
 102 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 be in the store and based entirely on your efficiency. It is 
 a common saying ' there is no friendship in trade ; ' perhaps 
 this may in general be true. Your safest course will be 
 to act upon it, so far as not to rely upon any demonstra 
 tions of friendly feelings which may be manifested either 
 by the family, or Mr. Stanley himself; in fine, feel that 
 you stand alone, and having a fair chance, ask, nor expect 
 any favors beyond that." 
 
 It might perhaps have been better for William if Mr. Ran 
 som had omitted this last item of advice. The youth was 
 already quite disposed to throw off all dependence, and to 
 feel himself alone in the world. He had indeed been very 
 confidential with Mr. Ransom, and the treatment of the 
 latter had been highly calculated to win his confidence, 
 but his disposition, either from nature or from the circum 
 stances in which he had been early placed, was inclined to 
 reticence. He was conscientious and acted from princi 
 ple, but not careful what opinion others formed of his 
 acts, the correct course, no doubt, as a general rule, 
 and yet it may be carried to extremes, especially by one 
 in the beginning of his career. Youth cannot be possess 
 ed of experience ; it can only be acquired by months and 
 years of earnest struggle in the battle field of life, and it 
 would prevent many a sad disaster, if the young adven 
 turer could have by his side a veteran of the field to tell 
 him where the pitfalls are and when to exert his strength 
 and when to halt. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 William Herbert had passed through the ordeal of a 
 junior clerk in an establishment where several subordi 
 nates were required, especially during the more busy sea 
 sons of the year, and in three years was enabled to act 
 quite efficiently as salesman. The business which Mr. 
 Stanley pursued, was that of a wholesale dry goods job 
 ber. The store was in Pearl street, between Maiden Lane
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 103 
 
 and John street, and the dwelling house was in John street, 
 at no great distance from the store. He had been suc 
 cessful and had passed through that period, in the history 
 of most merchants, when the scales seem to be evenly 
 held for a while, between success and failure. He aimed 
 not at doing a large business, and when he found himself 
 getting before hand, became more and more cautious, and 
 as his means increased, seemed less and less desirous of 
 involving himself in liabilities that might by any possibil 
 ity lead him into trouble. Of course he did not accumu 
 late fast, but in the course of years, his ledger showed a 
 very handsome balance on the right side of his account. 
 
 The precautions which Mr. Ransom had given proved 
 to him of great value. He soon found that Mr. Stanley 
 at home and Mr. Stanley in his office were as unlike as 
 possible. At the former he was mild, cheerful and very 
 social, and William was made to feel as free as if he had 
 been a near relative. ^At the latter, the strictest discipline 
 was maintained, promptness and strict attention, and con 
 stant labor of some kind were required. Errors were re 
 buked not indeed with an angry tone but in such a 
 decided manner, as to be keenly felt, especially by one of 
 a sensitive temperament ; but very fortunate it was for the 
 lone youth that he had such an ardent desire to succeed. 
 His mind was so intent upon the one great object before 
 him, very seldom did it happen that a rebuke was suffer 
 ed. How well he pleased his employer he could only tell 
 by the increasing responsibilities thrust upon him, for at 
 home no allusion was ever made to business matters. - 
 
 Miss Eva had now reached an age that began to tell 
 upon her future character. The graces of her person, as 
 well as the qualities of her mind and heart, were unfold 
 ing in beauty and loveliness. Apparently unconscious her 
 self of any peculiar chai-ms, her freedom from vanity and 
 affectation, her open, almost child-like simplicity, added 
 much to her attractions, especially to those who were 
 privileged with such intimacy as would natarally be en 
 joyed by members of the same family. 
 
 The peculiar circumstances under which William and 
 she had made their first acquaintance, brought them per 
 haps into a closer relation, into a more free and cordial
 
 104 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 correspondence than would have taken place had he come 
 to b^j house under an introduction from her father as one 
 whom he had engaged as a clerk in his store. They had 
 been the cause of trial to each other. They had both ac 
 knowledged a wrong done, and aske*d forgiveness ; and in 
 this act the fountain of their youthful feelings had been 
 moved to its very depths ; and thus mingling under in 
 tense excitement for a little while flowing together in 
 gladness it would not be strange if the after intimacy 
 should be of a tender and peculiar nature. "William was 
 something more to Ev^, than her father's clerk. There 
 was something about him that elevated him in her view 
 above all her companions of his sex. There was also a 
 mystery about his family relatives that helped much to in 
 crease the charm. Mr. Ransom had not thought proper 
 to reveal all he knew about that matter. AJ1 he said was 
 that the parentage of the young man was highly respec 
 table that his father was a gentleman of refinement 
 and intelligence ; that in consequence of a second mar 
 riage, Willi'am preferred leaving home, in order to seek his 
 own fortune. 
 
 The manner in which William treated Miss Eva, had 
 also a tendency to win her respect and admiration. He 
 was always ready to do her bidding, but not forward to 
 offer his services ; free to converse with her on any topic 
 she might advance, but seldom commencing any subject 
 of his own accord. When invited by her to be her com 
 panion at an evening party, he seemed to acquiesce rather 
 in deference to her request, than from any special pleas 
 ure to himself. He often on rainy days waited upon her 
 to her school, and went for her at its close if the state of 
 the weather required it, but no one, not even the young 
 lady herself, could have supposed from his manner at the 
 time that it was particularly a gratification to him. His 
 father on two occasions came to see him, and all the fam 
 ily were delighted with the visitor ; his fine personal ap 
 pearance, his easy, refined manners, and his conversation 
 al powers, won their applause, and William took a higher 
 place than ever in their consideration. 
 
 Twp years more have passed, and tidings came of his
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 105 
 
 father's death. He had of course permission to go to his 
 home, to pay the last tokens of respect and affection, 
 
 On his return he seemed greatly dejected, and disposed 
 to keep by himself. He had evidently passed through a 
 severe ordeal. The color had fled from his cheek, and 
 there was a sadness to the expression of his countenance, 
 that attracted the notice of all ; but as he avoided con 
 versation and courted seclusion, no one felt at liberty to 
 break the spell of silence, or to intrude upon his sorrow. 
 
 Eva, however, could not rest satisfied without an at 
 tempt at consolation. Hitherto most pleasant had been 
 their intercourse, and her heart was by no means insensi 
 ble- to the gentler passions. Nothing had been said by 
 either, that could have been construed into an expression 
 of peculiar interest, and yet she felt as sure as she wished 
 to be that she was more to him than all others, and she 
 firmly believed that he also felt assured that he was dear 
 to her, and she was willing he should think so. Those 
 tender emotions which so quickly vibrate in sympathy 
 within the hearts of the pure, need not always the aid of 
 words to kindle them, or to bring to the knowledge of 
 each other their intensity. Love, pure and true, had 
 wound her golden chain about them, little by little, with 
 out parade or noise, and yet with them there was no clan 
 destine dealing nothing done by either of set purpose 
 to win the other's heart. But they loved they were 
 conscious of it and while William had never declared 
 his passion, Eva had takenjio pains to conceal her feel 
 ings. And it was not in her nature to know that one so 
 dear to her had been stricken by the hand of sorrow, and 
 not let him feel how truly she sympathized with him. It 
 was of course her wish to see him alone, but difficulties 
 for some days were in the way of that. He was in the 
 store through the day, except at meal time and when the 
 store was closed for the evening. 
 
 It was a beautiful moonlight evening, and William was 
 seated alone, near the window, in their parlor. She en 
 tered the room, and coming up to him said : " Do you not 
 feel like taking a walk on the Battery this pleasant eve 
 ning ? " By all means if you wish it." But little was 
 said by either until they reached that beautiful prome- 
 5*
 
 106 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 nade. It was not then what it has now become, and 
 those who remember its days of beauty and respectabili 
 ty, cannot but regret that so lovely a location should have 
 been allowed to be desecrated by the low and abandoned. 
 
 " It must be a terrible blow to lose a parent," was the 
 first word she said. 
 
 After a moment's silence, he replied : 
 
 " I have lost both of mine." 
 
 " Is not your mother living ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Are your sisters then all alone ? " 
 
 " Their mother is living." 
 
 " They are not your own sisters, then ? " 
 
 "Not in one sense, and yet they seem very near to 
 roe." 
 
 " Are they much younger than you ? " 
 
 " One is twelve and the other fourteen." 
 
 " It must be hard for them, and for you, to be thus sep 
 arated." 
 
 " Yes, it was a severe trial to us when I left them three 
 days ago ; they hung on my neck, and it almost broke my 
 heart to tear myself from them. They have lost all, as 
 well as I have." 
 
 " But their mother is living ! " 
 
 " You judge of a mother from your own experience. 
 Had you one whose heart was callous to all love for any 
 thing but sordid gain who knew not one tender emo 
 tion who could see husband and children carried to the 
 grave without a tear, provided they did not take with 
 them the gold she worships you would know then, that 
 a mother may be nothing more than a prudent manager." 
 
 " William, you say hard things. Can this be so ! I 
 sincerely pity them and you, but why have you never told 
 me this before ? Would it not be a relief for you at times 
 to let out some of the trials of your heart ; dare you not 
 trust me as a friend ? You are not happy ; some burden 
 seems always pressing upon you. I feel for you, but know 
 not what to say that might give you relief. Why is it af 
 ter so long an intimacy that you still shut up your heart 
 within itself?" 
 
 " My trials have been of a kind almost too sacred for
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 107 
 
 the ear of friendship. I could not expose them without 
 unveiling secrets that had better be shut out from the 
 world forever. Often and often when we have been walk 
 ing together as we are now, have I been on the point of 
 asking you if I might look upon you as a sister, and tell 
 you all I felt but " 
 
 " And did you doubt of my willingness to take that 
 place ? or my honor to keep most sacredly what in confi 
 dence you told me ? " 
 
 " No, no, oh no ! it was not that ; but there are things 
 which even the nearest kindred had better keep within 
 their own breasts. A parent's trials may be of such a na 
 ture that children should never even mention them to 
 each other. But that chapter is closed. He who has 
 been upon my heart so long whose heavy grief has 
 weighed upon my spirits with increasing sadness as my 
 years have advanced, is now at rest. The sorrow of his 
 life has ceased the memory of the past alone haunts me 
 now, and every act of my life that has caused a pang to a 
 heart already wrung with anguish, pierces me like a dag 
 ger." 
 
 " But I cannot believe, William, that you have ever been 
 an undutiful son ! " 
 
 " I have been a loving child. My heart has been bound 
 up in that of my father. Every sigh which escaped him 
 in my presence, troubled me ; and when I have seen him 
 walk the room with the deep marks of sorrow and des 
 pair upon his brow, I have tried to say words of cheer 
 and comfort ; and my daily prayer to God has been, that 
 he might be sustained, and in some way, I knew not how, 
 delivered from his trials. Yet for all this I have caused 
 him sorrow ; for part, perhaps the greater part of his dis 
 tress was on my account, and if I had borne with patience 
 what I had to endure if I could have heard my moth 
 er's name " 
 
 Here William paused. He could go no further without 
 revealing what must lead to a full development. 
 
 " I do not ask you, William, to tell me what it would 
 distress you to reveal. I only want you to feel that if at 
 any time it would be a relief to unburden your mind, you
 
 108 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 have a friend to hear your trouble and to sympathize most 
 heartily in all your griefs." 
 
 He took her hand, and gently pressing it raised it to 
 his lips. There was no sign on her part that the act was 
 offensive. She had no desire to conceal what she felt 
 to have done so would have been prudery. She was in 
 earnest, not for tokens of his love they were not needed 
 but to gain his confidence, to win him to a free com 
 munion on such topics as might lead her into his secret 
 trials, that she might, as much as possible, bear part of the 
 burden with him. After walking a short distance in si 
 lence, he again spoke : 
 
 "I thank you. I want to tell you all I must I 
 will. I know you will pity me, even if you should not 
 approve." 
 
 And he told her all. The secrets of his past history, to 
 the day they first were brought together, were unfolded 
 scenes he had never exposed to Mr. Ransom himself. 
 
 " And now, Eva," he said as he closed, " you know all 
 my story, and will not perhaps think as well of me as you 
 have done, but it will be a relief to my mind, to know 
 that you at least, are not ignorant of the severe ordeal 
 through which I have passed." 
 
 " And I am glad you have told me, William. You have 
 suffered more than I could have imagined, and I do not 
 think you have cause to blame yourself for one act of 
 your life. I may not be an impartial judge. Oh, dear ! 
 how ungrateful I have been ! what you have just told me 
 makes me feel more sad on my account than yours." 
 
 "Why so, Eva? or what possible connection have you 
 with my trials, that you need blame yourself for? You 
 could not sympathize with sufferings you knew nothing 
 of." 
 
 " You do not comprehend. Your story has made me 
 contrast my own happy lot during the same years. All 
 with me has been peace and love. Every wish gratified 
 no care no fear of want no stranger's hands ad 
 ministering to my necessities. My cup has been running 
 over with mercies, and how little have I realized the kind 
 ness of my Heavenly Father ! I shall feel different after 
 this. Your sad hours will come up I mean those that.
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 109 
 
 are past. I shall think of your boyhood alone, cheerless, 
 worried by ill temper, neglected by the unfeeling, hungry 
 at times even to suffering, keeping your trials in your own 
 young heart lest your father should have an additio^ to 
 his sorrows. Yes, these will come up to me when I am en 
 joying the rich blessings of parental love and all the com 
 forts of my happy home ; and I shall be more humble and 
 more grateful." 
 
 " If my story should thus affect you, Eva, I do not re 
 gret that I have told it. If anything in my life can ben 
 efit you, I may feel that I have not suffei-ed in vain." 
 
 " Yes, William, and I firmly believe the bitterness of 
 your early days will be compensated by a future of use 
 fulness and peace. Do you not think that those tears you 
 shed in secret places for your father, and every effort you 
 made to cheer and calm his distracted heart, and every 
 prayer you offered for him, are remembered ? Oh, you 
 have a much higher claim to the blessing on an obedient 
 child than I can ever have." 
 
 " Do not say so. I claim no merit for the past, and can 
 only hope that I may be able in time, to atone for defi 
 ciencies in my conduct to my father, by taking his place 
 as far as I can to my sisters. I shall throw my whole life 
 into an effort to rescue them from their present unhappy 
 condition." 
 
 " But surely their own mother does not treat them as 
 she did you ! " 
 
 " Not in the same way. They are well clothed and fed, 
 but young women need more than these. They need cul 
 ture. My father has devoted his later years to their im 
 provement, and I have been astonished how much he has 
 accomplished in spite of all the obstacles in his and their 
 way. But that assistance they can have no more, and 
 they feel it bitterly. Schooling they are not allowed, and 
 for this^eason, ' they can read, write and cipher,' and that 
 theif mother thinks is all they need. Their only chance 
 for improvement now is from reading ; and happily my 
 father's books are th^re, and they regard with sacred rever 
 ence every thing that once was his. Oh, Eva, you cannot 
 think what joy was mingled with my teai-s when, alone to 
 gether with them they poured out all their hearts, and told
 
 110 LOOKING AKOUND. 
 
 me of their troubles and of their fears for the future, and 
 then they said, * do you know, dear brother, what our 
 father suffered. How kind, patient and loving he was, 
 and now perhaps we shall hear his name lightly spoken 
 of,' and they wept, and I wept with them, and if I had the 
 power would have brought them away from a place that 
 will only be to them a place of gloom and trial." 
 
 Eva was deeply affected. She could not restrain her 
 tears, and these tokens of her sympathy were like a pre 
 cious balm to the wounded, troubled heart of her com 
 panion. And when she again spoke, the tones of her voice 
 were low and tender, just suited to his feelings ; his heart 
 gleamed with strange emotion she never seemed so 
 near to him before, and words of love were almost tremb 
 ling on his lips, and yet he did not utter them. He felt at 
 once it would be wrong. She had not asked him to walk 
 with her, with any thought not the most distant that such 
 a subject would be introduced ; it would be an insult to 
 her generous, noble heart. Her only purpose was to try 
 and open that secret chamber where he kept cloistered 
 some heart trouble to help him as a sister might, by 
 the sweet power of sympathy, and her whole effort was 
 accomplished. He felt stronger to do the work of life 
 entailed upon him. The dark cloud which had been about 
 him lifted up, and a brighter atmosphere surrounded and 
 sparkled on his path. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Mr. Stanley had for some time been in feeble health. 
 There seemed to be no marked symptoms of a serious 
 disease. He had indeed a cough, but that was not thought 
 of much consequence " it was constitutional ; he had al 
 ways been subject to it at times." His strength, however 
 was failing. He could not endure what he did a few 
 months past. The debility was attributed to the influ-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 Ill 
 
 ence of spring weather ; " when that became settled and 
 the steady warmth of summer was established, he would 
 feel better," but the summer heat, only increased the weak 
 ness. The country air was tried, first at the sea-side, and 
 then far inland on the mountains. As the fall approach 
 ed, the symptoms became more unfavorable. He could 
 no longer attend to his business. Soon for days he did 
 not leave his chamber, and at length he lay upon his bed, 
 with the consciousness that his struggle for life was over, 
 and his work done. 
 
 During all this period, William had the burden of the 
 business resting upon him. He saw little of Eva, for his 
 stay in the house was as short as possible merely to eat 
 and be gone, and his evenings were fully occupied at the 
 store, often until late at night. Mr. Stanley had him dai 
 ly at his bed-side to consult with him, and give such di 
 rections as he could, and at times talked freely about his 
 approaching end, and about what he wished after that 
 event should have taken place. He spoke to him as if he 
 felt that the care of those dear to him, would devolve on 
 William, and as if it was a great relief to his wearied 
 mind, that one would be with them in whom he had such 
 perfect confidence. 
 
 One day as William was about to leave him, he called 
 him back. 
 
 " I am about arranging my affairs. I feel it high time. 
 I shall leave you as the principal manager, but have con 
 cluded to name my friend Blanchard, as joint executor 
 with you." 
 
 William was startled by the announcement, and for a 
 moment did not reply, and Mr. Stanley continued. 
 
 " I could with perfect confidence entrust every thing to 
 your honesty and prudence, but you know Mr. Blanchard 
 is a near friend ; and Mrs. Stanley, in particular, might feel 
 a little more confidence in having such a judicious person 
 connected with you. All you will have to do, will be to 
 consult with him when you are at a loss as to what course 
 to pursue. I shall expect the business to be continued as 
 it has been, curtailed of course at first, until you get ad 
 vanced enough from your own means to go on as you 
 think best. Had I lived you would have been my part-
 
 112 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 Tier. I feel that your faithful service demanded such an 
 act on my part, but as it is, I shall order a certain amount 
 of capital to remain in the business for a few years." 
 
 William knew more about Mr. Blanchard than Mr. 
 Stanley did, although the latter had been acquainted with 
 him for many years. He knew also that Mrs. Stanley was 
 strongly attached to Blanchard and his wife ; their word 
 would be law with her, he himself would be a mere ci 
 pher, and might be involved in difficulties and perhaps be 
 placed in a hostile relation to the family. Mr. Stanley he 
 knew to be honorable and true, but not shrewd in detect 
 ing evil. Without guile himself, he did not suspect it in 
 others. Blanchard, William believed, to be in character 
 the opposite of that ; and he had his own reasons for be 
 lieving that he had a strange prejudice against himself. 
 Under these circumstances to be placed in such a relation 
 as joint executor with Mr. Blanchard, would be of no avail 
 for any good to himself, or others. He therefore replied : 
 
 " I thank you most sincerely, Mr. Stanley, for all the in 
 terest you have hitherto manifested for my welfare, and 
 for the confidence in me expressed by your present pro 
 posal ; but sir, you know Mrs. Stanley would naturally con 
 sult with Mr. Blanchard. I might not think as they did, 
 I could not well set my opinion in opposition ; my name as 
 executor would, I am convinced, give me no power, and 
 it may be, sir, that both Mrs. Stanley and Mr. Blanchard 
 might object to it. Have you mentioned to them your de 
 sign ? " 
 
 " I have not, but if you wish, I will do so." 
 
 " And to assure you, sir, that I am ready in every way 
 to meet your wishes, if you find it is their desire that thus 
 it should be, or if they do not object, I shall be willing 
 that your design be carried into execution." 
 
 What occurred after this, William knew not, but he 
 thought the conduct of Mrs. Stanley towai-ds him, was 
 greatly changed. He was not often allowed to be in Mr. 
 Stanley's room without either she or Mr. Blanchard were 
 present. It might have been accidental, but he believed 
 not ; neither was he allowed to watch with him as he had 
 been, and when h'e offered, the excuse was, " that Mr. Stan 
 ley was so low now, that she could not leave him," or that
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 113 
 
 " Mr. Blanchard was such an experienced nurse in sick 
 ness, it would be better that he should be with him, and 
 he, William, must be very tired." The latter reason he 
 would have argued against and put down, if he thought 
 it had been offered in sincerity." 
 
 The hour of trial at length came, and the house which 
 for so many years had been the abode of comfort and hap 
 piness, was turned into a house of mourning. 
 
 William saw nothing of Eva in the hours which pre 
 ceded the funeral, for the family of Mr. Blanchard was 
 there, and William, conscious that he was no favorite with 
 any of them, and finding his services were not called for, 
 kept out of the way as much as possible. And when the 
 funeral solemnities were over, still several members of 
 that family remained, and Mrs. Stanley, overcome by the 
 sad loss she had met with for she truly loved her hus 
 band. remained in seclusion ; whether confined to her 
 bed, William did not know. He never saw her again. 
 
 It was the third day after the funeral, that William en 
 tered the house about the middle of the afternoon. He 
 had brought a cartman with him, the cart was standing at 
 the door, and the man at his request followed him into' 
 the house, and up into his room, where two trunks lay 
 ready locked and strapped. One contained his wearing 
 apparel, and the other was well filled with books, which 
 in the course of years he had purchased. Immediately 
 they are taken up, one at a time, and placed upon the cart. 
 As the last one was brought out, William said : 
 
 " You remember the direction ? " 
 
 " No. Dey street." 
 
 " Right. Please say to them I will be there this eve 
 ning." 
 
 " I will." 
 
 William now stood a moment upon the stoop. He 
 looked towards the open door stepped in as if to close 
 it, and was in the a<;t of doing so, when he saw Eva de 
 scending the stairs, and approaching him. He advanced 
 to meet her, their hands were clasped in silence, and she 
 led him into the parlor, and then closed the door. 
 
 " What does this mean, William ? Jane tells me you 
 have taken away your trunks, and aile going to leave us ! 
 Can this be true ? "
 
 114 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 He was too much overcome at once to make any reply. 
 He had gone through a scene of intense excitement that 
 day. Mr. Blanchard had been at the store and assumed 
 direction. That of course William had anticipated, for 
 without making inquiry, he felt well assured that Mr. 
 Blanchard had been left sole manager of all Mr. Stanley's 
 affairs, and as a collateral, he also expected that his own 
 connection with the business would be of short duration, 
 but he did not anticipate a rude dismissal, nor insulting 
 language, and his proud spirit had been deeply wounded. 
 He had not allowed himself to use any expressions that 
 Mr. Blanchard could make a handle of to his injury, but 
 had maintained the character of a gentleman throughout 
 the trying scene. The kind manner in which Eva met 
 him, brought back at once all the past, and for a few mo 
 ments, as has been said, there was no reply ; at length by 
 a powerful effort he was enabled to say : 
 
 " I think it will be best." 
 
 Eva saw his emotion. She had no idea what peculiar 
 cause had excited him, nor could she imagine that his 
 leaving the house for some other abode, would by any 
 means suspend the relation of friendship in which they 
 had now for so long stood to each other. 
 
 " I am sorry you feel it best to do so just at this time." 
 
 He handed her his card with the number and street of 
 his new place of residence, and said as she took it, 
 
 " I shall be there for the present, and when I leave there 
 will advise you of my address, so that whenever I can be 
 of any service to yourself or your mother, you may know 
 where I may be found. Any thing I can ever do for ei 
 ther shall be done to the very extent of my ability ; your 
 kindness will never be forgotten." 
 
 " But, William " she had taken the hand he had 
 extended as he was about to go, and was intending to re 
 monstrate against this sudden step ; her feelings, however 
 became too much excited to allow her utterance. She fix 
 ed her eye steadily upon him her whole heart and all 
 they had been to each other the past and the present, 
 seemed to him concentrated in that look. He could not 
 endm-e it. Suddenly he exclaimed : 
 
 " Eva, may God bless you," and then broke away from 
 her and departed. 

 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Hallo, Captain ! don't haul off yet." 
 
 " What's the matter now ? " was answered by a short 
 man in pea jacket and tarpaulin hat, with a pleasant, 
 though weather beaten countenance, who was standing at 
 th.e stern of a sloop in Albany basin, and pulling away 
 upon a line fastened to the spile at the end of the pier. 
 Two other hands were engaged in like manner, and un 
 der their united strain the Polly was beginning slowly to 
 move from her station. The young man, who was a mu 
 latto, had no doubt been running for some distance, for he 
 seemed quite out of breath, and having aroused the at 
 tention of the captain by his exclamation, stood for some 
 moments without seemingly being able to reply to the 
 captain's question. The order "vast hauling," yws in 
 the mean time given, and the mulatto boy jumpra on 
 board. 
 
 " It's you, Jim, is it ?" said the captain. "What's to 
 pay now ? " 
 
 " Mr. Roland wants to go up, captain. He's coming as 
 fast as possible, but the shoemaker disappointed him about 
 his boots, and he's just gone to buy a pair. He'll be down 
 in fifteen minutes or, may be half an hour, and he sends 
 his compliments to Captain Joe, and says he'll be 'specially 
 obliged if you will wait, for he wants to go very urgent 
 ly." 
 
 Quite a number of passengers were on board the Polly, 
 and being on deck, as passengers usually are when about 
 to start, many of them could not fail to hear what was 
 just then going on ; and one of them, a gentleman with 
 somewhat more pretensions as to dress than the rest, 
 stepped xip, and with a consequential air, thus addressed 
 the captain ; 
 
 "Of course, captain, you do not mean to comply with 
 any such request. You was to have sailed at one o'clock,
 
 116 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 it is now past two ; a whole hour we have been waiting 
 here for one thing or another. I tliink it a piece of im 
 pertinence for any man to request the boat to be detained 
 just for his convenience, with the wind fair too, and a 
 good breeze." 
 
 Captain Joseph Bluff, was a very civil man naturally, 
 and very much disposed to accommodate all round, but he 
 knew his own business best, or thought be did; at least 
 he generally acted as his own judgment dictated, without 
 spending much breath in giving reasons for his conduct. 
 His only reply to the gentleman was, 
 
 " Make fast the stern line, boys." 
 
 . The order was readily obeyed, and the sloop Polly lay 
 still again, only a few feet in advance of her former posi 
 tion. The gentleman being somewhat acquainted with 
 the ways of the world from having been many years en 
 gaged in business in the city, was able to come to a cor 
 rect conclusion, as to the propriety of saying anything 
 further to Captain Joe. He therefore walked from the 
 upper deck, and mingled with the passengei'S who were 
 gathftted around the cabin gangway, addressing himself 
 to a gentleman, who was seated with a little girl on his 
 knee, upon one of the trunks, of which several stood in 
 that vicinity. 
 
 "A pretty piece of business this, Mr. Sandfbrd, that you 
 and I, and all the rest of us here, should be kept waiting 
 for some country booby or other ; no doubt a crony of the 
 captain's. These country folks ought to have some les 
 sons given them as to the necessity of promptness and 
 the value of time." 
 
 "I fear it will be hard teaching them. They know 
 nothing about change hours, or bank hours, or even market 
 hours. A half hour with us sometimes, is of great con 
 sequence. I have in my day suffered more between half 
 past two and three o'clock, than I ever mean to suffer 
 again if I can help it. It seems to me now, Blanchard, a 
 delightful tnought that I arn going where a man will have 
 no such terrible master over him as ' Bills payable.' Come, 
 sit down man, and keep cool. It will be a matter of lit 
 tle moment whether we get off an hour earlier or later. 
 I have bid good-bye to the city, squared all off there and
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 mean to make the best of what I have left, and not worry 
 myself about trifles. It is the best way, depend upon it." 
 
 "Yes, perhaps it is, if a man can only make up his mind 
 to do so, but I hate imposition, whether in the city or 
 country. I have had some specimens already of their in 
 dependent ways, but I have been up to them ; I let them 
 know that when I want a thing done, its got to be done, 
 in true time too. You know I told you I have been build 
 ing? at least putting an addition to my house." 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Well, I called upon one or two of the best builders in 
 that region, and told them what I wanted, and showed 
 them the plan I had drawn out for me by an architect, 
 and asked them what they would do it for, and how long 
 it would take to finish it. What are you smiling at, Sand- 
 ford ? " 
 
 " I was thinking what answer they gave you." 
 
 What do you think it was ? " 
 
 " I can guess pretty nearly, I think. They very likely 
 looked some time at the plan you handed them, said after 
 a while, ' that it would add to the looks of the hoi^e ' 
 ' that they would like to undertake the job,' ' that they 
 had as lief work for you as for anybody,' and ' whatever 
 they did about it should be done in workmanlike manner,' 
 and ' that they would charge fair wages and their board,' 
 and ' that they thought the thing might possibly be put in 
 shape in a month or so just according to the number 
 of hands you are mind to put on.' " 
 
 " Well, you've come pretty near the mark, only they 
 seemed to put the matter a little more in the shape of a 
 favor to be done for me, than a thing of any consequence 
 to them. It was a little too much so for me, so I said 
 nothing further to them, and just made a contract with 
 a boss in the city, at a stipulated price and to be done 
 within a stipulated time, and no more trouble about it 
 board nor nothing. And I should advise you, if you 
 like the looks of things at my place, to engage the same 
 fellow, unless you have engaged a builder already. You 
 mean to put up a new house, I suppose." 
 
 " Not I. Not just yet, at any rate ; we shall patch up
 
 ^_ .M*. * >'!; 
 
 118 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 the old one, and make her answer. You see, Blanchard, 
 I am leaving the city for good. I design living in the 
 country, which as I understand matters is altogether a 
 different thing from living in the city." 
 
 M You want a good house, though ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes. I want a comfortable, tight house, and I 
 think I have got one. It is plain I know fine furniture 
 will not show to much advantage in it and so I have 
 made a clean sweep of everything, except beds and plain 
 est carpets, etc. All the trumpery that cost me a deal of 
 money and was designed chiefly for other people to look 
 at, I've cleared out sold off. I have had enough of 
 slaving myself, wearing out soul and body to keep up ap 
 pearances, and conform to city fashions. My constitution 
 wont stand it. I am ten years older than I ought to be." 
 
 " It is wearing, I know. I have got tired of it myself, 
 that's a fact. I am retiring, you know ; left business and 
 mean to rest and enjoy myself the remainder of my life, 
 but I don't see why fine furniture and a fine house cannot 
 be as well enjoyed in the country as in the city, if a man 
 can afford it." 
 
 " True, if he can afford it. You probably can live as 
 expensively as you did in the city, and leave your children 
 enough to go on living so when you are gone. It is oth 
 erwise with me. I leave the city with a small income 
 and mean to live within it. I expect to give up show and 
 style, and in lieu thereof, to have freedom from distracting 
 care, time to think, to read, to enjoy the society of my 
 wife and children, and the beautiful world which God ha? 
 given us to live in. None of these have I been able real 
 ly and truly to have much satisfaction from, so far ; it is 
 as you know, utterly impossible for a man absorbed in 
 business, with all the crooks and turns and changes in 
 money affairs, to have anything like a calm, settled state 
 of mind utterly out of the question." 
 
 How long the two gentlemen might have kept on in 
 the track to which their conversation had diverged there 
 is no telling, had they not been interrupted by the stir of 
 the men with the little captain at their head, now in good 
 earnest, heaving away some at the long line at the head 
 of the pier, and others hoisting the jib. The mainsails
 
 ** 
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 119 
 
 had been flapping in the wind with its peak down for 
 more than an hour. The gentleman for whom the delay 
 of the last half hour had been made, had no doubt come 
 on board, but so unostentatiously that no one probably, 
 except the captain and the hands who knew him were 
 aware of the fact. The mulatto boy, however, was ob 
 served by our Mr. Blanchard, and again addressing the 
 gentleman with whom he had been holding the conversa 
 tion above recorded. 
 
 " Sandford, is the captain going at last, without that 
 fellow he has kept us waiting for. The negi*o, I see is on 
 board. Perhaps he was the gentleman after all to whom 
 we are indebted for this delay." 
 
 " I see there a man pulling in the slack as the hands 
 are hoisting the jib, who don't look like a boatswain ; you 
 see he has gloves on his hands, and his dress is not exact 
 ly a sailor's rig." 
 
 " Ay, ay, I see. I suppose he has some interest in the 
 concern. That accounts for his importance. Rather a 
 stern looking chap. What raven black hair he has ! a 
 fine form, too." 
 
 " And a remarkably bright eye. I caught a glimpse of 
 his face just now look " 
 
 This was said as the person about whom they had been 
 speaking, having surrendered the rope into the hands of 
 the boatmen, that they might give a last pull and make all 
 taut, turned his face toward the two gentlemen, casting a 
 mere glance that way, while he walked past them, and 
 mounting the after deck, approached the captain, who was 
 standing by his tiller. The latter touched his hat before 
 he took the proffered hand of his passenger. 
 
 " I feel under great obligation to you, captain. I hope 
 the delay has not put you to inconvenience." 
 
 " Not at all, not at all, Mr. Roland ; the wind is fair to 
 be sure and a good breeze, but do our best, we shall not 
 be able to get beyond the edge of the highlands to-night. 
 The south wind is heaping up for us some squally weath 
 er off in the north-west. We shall probably have a flus 
 ter before sundown, and then a stiff nor'-easter right in 
 our teeth or a dead calm ; a half hour sooner or later wont 
 make much difference take care of the boom, sir."
 
 . 
 
 
 120 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 The gentleman stooped in time to avoid the sweep of 
 the heavy sail as it took the wind and flew across the 
 deck, and spread its broad white form without a wrinkle, 
 full to the breeze. Some little stir was perceived among 
 the group of passengers who still maintained their posi 
 tion around the cabin-door, and the captain with a slight 
 chuckle pointed his companion that way. It seemed that 
 Mr. Blanchard had his curiosity somewhat excited in ref 
 erence to this gentleman, who had been the cause of some 
 disturbance to his equanimity, and could not very well 
 keep his eye from that direction, There was something 
 in the countenance and the bearing of the young man 
 for he was not probably over thirty that in spite of his 
 plain dress, indicated his position as above a medium rank, 
 and Mr. Blanchard, like most men who, from a low posi 
 tion originally, have accumulated money enough to ena 
 ble them to imitate those they think their betters in ex 
 ternals, was sensitive in that particular point. His own 
 consciousness assured him that between this stranger and 
 himself there was a "vast gulf fixed." Money could not 
 bridge it over, nor give to himself that unmistakable air 
 which had been acquired from early childhood. He might 
 indeed pretend to ridicule the idea that one man was not 
 as good as another, if he had as much money at his com 
 mand and ability to make the most of it ; and yet he felt 
 the contrast the could not help it ; and although he loved 
 money and prided himself upon what he had accumulat 
 ed, yet he would have felt himself flattered to be ac 
 knowledged by that person as an acquaintance, even al 
 though he should know that his own purse was much the 
 best filled. 
 
 These -feelings being in operation, Mr. Blanchard, as has 
 been said, kept his eye that way, as though under fascina 
 tion, and the spell was not broken until he felt his hat and 
 other appurtances belonging to the upper region suddenly 
 torn from their proper place. Being neai'er the centre of 
 motion, the boom had accomplished the feat before he 
 had time to think of stooping, and left exposed to the air 
 and the free gaze of his companions, a white shining pate 
 as guiltless of hair as an apple. Instead of plunging for 
 his hat and its accompaniment, he clapped both hands to
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 121 
 
 his head, which caused increased attention that way, many 
 asking with more or less interest, " if he was much hurt." 
 
 He made no reply, but walked with his hands still 
 spread over his cranium in the direction of the missing ar 
 ticles. One of .the hands on board had luckily grabbed 
 them on their way after the boom towards the blue waters, 
 and as he handed them to their owner, the hairy scalp 
 was so quickly replaced upon its shaven pedestal, that suf 
 ficient care -was wanting in properly adjusting it. The 
 consequence was, the crown of his head appeared just 
 over the frontal bump, and the foretop with its curls was 
 overlooking the collar behind. An irrepressible shout of 
 laughter greeted this singular transformation, very much 
 to the consternation and dismay of the sufferer. He felt 
 that something was wrong, but not knowing exactly where 
 the difficulty lay, clapped his hat over the scene of disor 
 der, and looking very much like a man with his face in 
 the wrong place, rushed down into the cabin. 
 
 To most men of Mr. Blanchard's years, such a mishap 
 would have been merely a fit cause fora hearty laugh, and 
 he would have joined in readily with those around. He 
 was of the ripe age of fifty, and if deficient at that period 
 of life in the necessary covering for his head, he might with 
 perfect propriety put on a substitute. But Mr. Blanchard 
 was a widower a rich widower, he was called and 
 there was among the list of passengers on board, a pair 
 of very soft and expressive eyes, which, it may as well be 
 said at once, had made a powerful impression on his heart. 
 Those eyes had witnessed this development of his cranial 
 peculiarities, and their owner had joined in the shout of 
 laughter, and the tender sensibilities of Mr. Blanchard 
 were sadly disturbed. 
 
 But the vessel has now got under full way, and with the 
 stiff breeze then blowing, and the tide in her favor was 
 making rapid progress. The spires and parallel streets of 
 the great city were passing in quick succession. Soon the 
 pretty dwellings scattered along the outskirts are attract 
 ing admiration, and as all objects recognized as belonging 
 to New York, are lost in the fields, and fences, and com 
 mon country residences, the passengers remit their united 
 gaze, and begin to scatter about the vessel and amuse 
 6
 
 122 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 themselves according to th^ir different tastes. They had 
 now fairly commenced their voyage, and all knew enough 
 of sloop navigation, to feel that there would be time for 
 trying a variety of positions, and doing a variety of odds 
 and ends, before there would be any propriety in asking 
 the captain, " how soon he thought they would get to the 
 landing." 
 
 1 It was a beautiful afternoon in the month of June, 
 rather warm, indeed, for the season. Our pas^ngers," how 
 ever, suffered no inconvenience from that source. The 
 elasticity of the pure air now they were once out on the 
 broad river, and the wind that " followed fast," nullified 
 at least, while they were on deck, the scorching sunbeams, 
 and caused a continued expression from one and another 
 of thankfulness " that they were out of the city." More 
 especially did manifestations of delight, not only at the 
 delicious change from the stifling atmosphere of the city, 
 but in the glorious visions of nature that now lay spread 
 out on every point of view, escape the lips of a young 
 and beautiful specimen among the females. She seemed 
 to be quite carried away from all sense of conventionali 
 ties, and with her bonnet hanging by its strings in her 
 hand, her light, very" light, brown hair dangling ad libitum 
 upon her neck and shoulders, she seemed like some young 
 animal just loosed from a long confinement, snuffing the 
 air with delight, and ready for a spring in any direction. 
 The sunbeam did not appear in the least to affect the full, 
 bright play of her very dark, blue eyes. She heeded them 
 no more than if she had no fair skin to tarnish, and had 
 been a German peasant girl, accustomed to exposure in all 
 weather. At times she stood and gazed up at the expand 
 ed sail, and then at the blue water as it tumbled along the 
 vessel's side, and then at the vast panorama of water and 
 land that opened at the stern as their progress into mid 
 channel exposed more clearly the beautiful bay with its 
 circling landscape and its small opening to seaward at the 
 narrows. Her admiration was not that of the mere " hoy 
 den," who, deprived of nature's beauties by confinement 
 to the dull round of some city boarding school, looked, 
 and laughed, and giggled, and romped about glad to be 
 at freedom. There was no smile on her beautiful counte-
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 123 
 
 nance, there was no restlessness in her motions; she seem 
 ed in no haste to withdraw her eye from any one of the 
 varied scenes that for the time attracted her notice. She 
 evidently was thinking, Mjhile her eye was gazing, and 
 more than once held up her hands, bonnet and all, as some 
 view, more captivating than trie rest, unfolded Its beauties 
 to her. At length, a middle aged lady, peeping her head 
 around above the cabin hatch, as she stood upon its upper 
 step, espied her seated upon a hencoop near the stern, 
 conversing with the little captain, who was also seated on 
 the end of his tiller. At once the elder lady ascended the 
 deck, and as she approached the other, said : 
 
 " Do, Eva, for go6dness sake, put on your bonnet ; you'll 
 scorch to death." 
 
 " I will, Aunt Lizzy, to please you ; but really, I had 
 forgotten that it was not in its place. Is not this love-. 
 ly?" 
 
 " Its dreadful hot," and the lady fanned herself more 
 rapidly as she said this, and scowled, as though the water 
 and the deck on which she stood, and all about her, were 
 distasteful. 
 
 " But such a delicious breeze as we are having, Aunt 
 Lizzy, makes one forget all about the heat. We are not 
 in the city now, where every puff of air seems to come 
 from a furnace, or from some burning desert." 
 
 " Its dreadful hot here, too, and not a speck of shade or 
 any thing to keep the sun off; that's the worst of the 
 country, and you'll find it just as I have told you. It's 
 dreadful hot in the summer, and it's dreadful cold in the 
 winter, and what with toads, and mosquitoes, and dust, 
 and mud, and the horrible snakes well, you'll all see 
 if you ain't all sick to death before summer is over do 
 come down in the cabin, Eva, out of the broiling sun ; 
 you'll be burnt as black as a Mohawk." 
 
 " No danger now, Aunt Lizzy, with this great scoop on 
 my head." 
 
 "Yes, the water will burn you just as bad as the sun, 
 and more than all, we are going to have a gust, I know 
 we are, the wind is south." 
 
 "Oh, Aunt Lizzy ! what sign can you perceive of a gust, 
 the sky is clear, I am sure."
 
 124 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " Yes, yes but I can see look up in the northwest, 
 it's gathering there this south wind always brings them. 
 I don't like south winds not in summer; you can't cheat 
 rne about gusts, I can feel them in the very ends of my 
 fingers." 
 
 The captain had been lisfening attentively to the old 
 lady, and from the pleasant twinkle of his eye and a pe 
 culiar nod of his head occasionally as he caught the eye 
 of the younger one, showed that he was not a little amus 
 ed. He now gave a hearty " ha, ha," saying at the same 
 time, 
 
 "I guess your fingers tell right this time, madam." 
 
 Miss Eva joined in the laugh, but not so the old lady ; 
 her countenance assumed a more serious aspect if possi 
 ble, and taking a step closer to the captain, she spoke in 
 a very earnest tone. 
 
 " Then you think we are going to have a thunder gust, 
 captain ? What shall we do ! you'll put in somewhere, 
 won't you ? " 
 
 " Oh, never fear, madam, we'll take all the care we can, 
 but you know its hard fending off thunder and lightning, 
 they go pretty much where they're sent." 
 
 " Oh dear, I knew it would be so, and to think of being 
 in a boat, with a jnast, too, to draw the lightning ! " 
 
 " Yes, but auntie, you know it will not be so high an ob 
 ject as St. John's steeple. You have always been wish 
 ing we lived any where but so near that steeple. I know 
 we have got a careful captain, and don't mean to give my 
 self any concern about the storms." 
 
 " No, I'll warrant you wont ; you never did, not even to 
 shut down a window till the rain, and hail, and dust was 
 pouring in on everything." 
 
 " We shall not have any dust, Aunt Lizzie ; that will 
 be an evil out of the way. You know you have always 
 said the dust was more frightful to you at such times than 
 any thing else, and then we can have a clear view of the 
 storm when it comes." 
 
 " I dont want to see it ; but do come down, Eva, and 
 sit with me in the cabin, I'm dreadfully nervous." 
 
 With a pleasant smile on her face, the young lady made
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 125 
 
 a slight obeisance to the captain, and tripped it after her 
 friend, though not perhaps with a very good will. 
 
 As we shall not have much to. do with all the passen 
 gers, we shall only introduce to the reader such of them 
 as will be actors in the scenes we are about to relate. 
 
 Mr. Blanchard was one of the multitude, who in the 
 city of New York, had managed by the time be reached 
 his fiftieth year, to accumulate what was thought in those 
 days some forty years since a handsome fortune. He 
 was worth, probably, a little over eighty thousand dollars 
 at least this was the report. He was a native of the city, 
 but of a low origin. His father had been a laboring man 
 a porter in a large retail grocery, and had succeeded in 
 procuring a situation for his son in a wholesale establish 
 ment in the same line, as a clerk. Young Blanchard was 
 then fourteen, an active boy of fair capacity, and so well 
 did he please his employers, that he was by degrees ad 
 vanced from that of an errand boy to that of junior clerk, 
 book keeper, salesman, and finally was taken into the con 
 cern as a partner. He had ever been a close applicant to 
 business ; his mind was fully satisfied with being engross 
 ed in its details, and as the concern was prosperous and 
 the business a regular affair that of supplying country 
 stores with rum, sugar, molasses, etc., it was not neces 
 sary that its managers should be men of large capacity, or 
 cultivated intellect. They knew enough of geography to 
 be able to realize the whereabouts their customers lived, 
 but as their sales were principally made along the river 
 towns of the Hudson, as far west in New Jersey as Morris- 
 town, and to a few of the villages in Connecticut, it would 
 require but a limited knowledge of the terrestrial globe, 
 to be able in imagination to locate their customers. And 
 as to spelling and grammar, there was little occasion for a 
 critical knowledge of either. The few common-place re 
 marks which they had to make at the end of the bill of 
 goods, such as, " we hope the articles will prove satisfacto 
 ry," or, "we shall be glad to receive further orders from 
 you," were not easily put out of joint in construction, and 
 the words not difficult for plain spellers. It is quite an er 
 ror to suppose any great amount of knowledge or talent is 
 required in order to be a successful trader in some of those
 
 126 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 branches of business in the great city which have turned 
 out quite wealthy men. Many fine establishments at the 
 present day, both in the city and out of it$ have owners 
 who must feel strangely amid their surroundings, and 
 above all, very peculiar in their own library, if they have 
 such an appendage to their dwellings. 
 
 We are straying however, from our friend, Mr. Rufus 
 Blanchard. The business was indeed prosperous, but all 
 Mr. Blanchai'd's money was not made in regular trade. 
 He had on his own account dabbled occasionally in 
 stocks, in which he had been successful; he had also 
 made a very fortunate investment in vacant lots just at a 
 time when a sudden rage for speculation in fast property 
 had broken out, and more by that chance than either his 
 regular business or his stock ventures, was he enabled to 
 realize that he had become a man of some consideration 
 a monied man. To be sure much of the importance at 
 tached to him, may be attributed to the fact that public 
 rumor proclaimed him to be worth just about double what 
 he did possess, and as he never took any pains to contra 
 dict that veracious oracle, when he had the opportunity, 
 he therefore passed on change and elsewhere, as a very 
 lucky fellow, received all that homage which wealth in 
 sures, and was not sorry to know that any envied him on 
 account of his prosperity. In fact, without running to the 
 excesses which many indulged in, he was heartily in love 
 with the world, and although a professor of religion, the 
 injunction "to love not the world nor the things of the 
 world," "if riches increase set not your heart on them," 
 "possessing as though we possessed not," he did not 
 seem to feel had any reference to him. He had made his 
 money, and as he sometimes said, " God had prospered 
 him," and of course he had a right to enjoy his gifts all 
 which cannot be denied oy gainsayed. But the thought 
 never came into his mind, that his abundance had calls 
 deep and loud, from many a sufferer, and that he was en 
 trusted with it for this very purpose. The talent entrust 
 ed to him was not that of superior intellect, or such gifts 
 as would have enabled him to grapple with the minds of 
 men in warning, convincing and leading them from the 
 paths of sin and sorrow, to those of truth and holiness.
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 127 
 
 But he was entrusted with material substance beyond what 
 his necessities required, and he knew that the Master 
 whom he professed to love, "-went about doing good," 
 and that his disciples were enjoined to do likewise even 
 to deny themselves, if that were necessary at any rate, 
 " to remember the poor." Not that Mr. Blanchard never 
 gave for that purpose, when called upon, but it was given 
 for the same reason, and in the same spirit that he paid 
 his taxes he could not very well help it and kesp up 
 a very fair name. He had little sympathy with the poor 
 rather blamed than pitied them. 
 
 His religion had not so remodeled his heart, as to make 
 him truly in love with its holy principles. He held on to 
 it as a safeguard, or it may be from habit, or from defer 
 ence to the opinion of others. It was not a source of 
 much comfort to him ; he rather feared than loved God. 
 
 That he was not truly happy, is not at all strange ; he 
 had no sweet communions with his Saviour the Bible 
 was not much of a companion for him he never went 
 to it for counsel, nor had his spirit enraptured with its di 
 vine teachings and promises. . The holy joy which breaks 
 forth in the Psalms and escapes from the heart of the 
 Apostles, touch no chord in his. How then can Be be 
 happy ! And yet he was a professor, in good and regular 
 standing. Aside from this fact, it would have been utter 
 ly impossible, even for those most intimate with him, to 
 have discovered wherei-n he differed from those who fol 
 lowed the devices and desires of their own heart, and 
 made no secret of it. When he was reviled, he gave as 
 good as he received. When he suffered from any cause 
 from a fellow man in his pocket or his person, he left 
 no means untried, either by law or any other way, except 
 giving hard blows, (he was not a fighting man,) to make 
 his aggressor suffer in return. As to leaving matters to 
 " Him who judgeth righteously," he never once' thought 
 of the thing. ^'The meekness and gentleness'" of the. 
 Divine Master, might as well never been urged as a pat 
 tern to copy, for all that such a motive affected him. To 
 sum the whole up, he lived as far from God as a friend, as 
 far from Christ as his pattern and atoning sacrifice, and 
 from the Holy Spirit as the communicator of heavenly as-
 
 128 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 pirations and sanctifying grace, as though the -triune man 
 ifestations of Almighty love and care had no part in his 
 creed, and yet he sat regularly at the communion table, 
 said grace over his meals, and numbered himself with those 
 who had been born again. 
 
 Mr. Sandford had been in business in the city of New 
 York for nearly fifteen years. He had accumulated a 
 small property, and would no doubt, if he had continued 
 in trade, succeeded in time to an independence ; but un 
 happily he had engaged in business at a period during 
 which there was a very unsettled state of things in the 
 commercial world. Every few years some derangement 
 took place in monetary affairs ; more than once he was on 
 the eve of bankruptcy. He held on his way, however, 
 but being of a nervous temperament and very suscepti 
 ble to the terrors which such an event inspires, he resolv 
 ed that as soon as he could gather up enough to sustain 
 his family in decency, he would retire into the country, 
 purchase a farm, and leave the arena of the great strug 
 gle. He had reasoned the matter with himself fully, as 
 he thought, and the course of his reasoning was in this 
 wise " What is the great struggle for ? in most cases 
 for a'living. Well, that to be sure is a necessity, but is it 
 necessary for me to live in the city ? Rents are higher, 
 the state of living daily becoming more sumptuous and 
 expensive, and the course of trade more uncertain, ex 
 tended and hazardous. But perhaps by continuing here, 
 I may after many years of toil, anxiety, distraction and 
 great effort, accumulate, as some few do, sufficient to en 
 able me to retire from business and live on my income. 
 I shall in all human probability then be far advanced in 
 life, my energies paralyzed, my capacity for rest and en 
 joyment destroyed. In the meantime, the flower of my 
 life, the years in which I shall be most capable of appre 
 ciating the blessings of life and of home pleasures, will be 
 eaten out by the canker of care. Farmers can be inde 
 pendent on a small sum. Their land yields the'm all they 
 need abundance crowns their table they have no 
 care ; their style of living is plain to be sure, but that is, 
 more than compensated by the beauties of nature and the 
 freshness and purity of their surroundings. I have a
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 129 
 
 .. '--f x ' 
 
 growing family; if my boy should.be brought up in the 
 city he must mingle with other boys. Vice is contagious; 
 the temptations to youth here, are increasing rapidly, and 
 can I hope that he will escape them ? How many young 
 men within my knowledge are running the course that 
 leads to infamy and an early grave. Absorbed in busi 
 ness how can a father watch as he ought the plants en 
 trusted to his care ! " 
 
 This sample will suffice to give in some measure, an 
 idea of the workings of his mind ; but beside this, another 
 inducement added its weight to his conclusions. He had 
 married a wife some yeai'S his junior; she was but seven 
 teen and he thirty-two when they united their destinies. 
 He was devotedly fond of her and she as devotedly fond 
 of him. It was a union of love, for she knew he had no 
 wealth to offer her. The duties of business separated 
 them from each other through the day, and often, in the 
 business seasons, through the evening, and at times of dif- 
 iculty, the anxiety for the morrow, sadly marred the pleas 
 ure of the evening s intercourse. She was too, in the hey 
 day of life, of a romantic turn, not caring much for show,- 
 but by the power of idealism, throwing around her whole 
 existence that peculiar charm which robes even plain or 
 rude things in a pleasing dress. Her husband was not to 
 her the plain Mr. Sandford, the wholesale grocer in Front 
 street ; she never thought of him as such. He was the 
 type of nobleness, and purity, and wisdom, and strength, 
 and manliness. She loved to see him in the nicest trim, 
 and with her own hands arranged his hair to suit her fan 
 cy, disheveling the straightly brushed locks, and giving 
 them as much as possible a graceful curling carelessness 
 of look, and would insist upon the nicest plaitings for his 
 bosoms, and an easy, jaunty tie for his cravat ; for she. 
 knew, or thought she did, that nothing could be too good 
 to set off the excellence of the manly form and soul they 
 adorned. And he let her have her way, for he dearly loved 
 her not for any ideal picture which his mind had form 
 ed out of her real self; it was enough for him to see her as 
 she was and to please her. He knew that she was fond 
 of nature, for he had accompanied her to the country, and 
 heard her exclamations of delight at witnessing its varied 
 6*
 
 130 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 scenes. The snug homestead nestling beneath the trees 
 
 the mowers reaping the luxuriant meadows the tall 
 grain waving to the -gentle wind .-^- the babbling brook, 
 plashing back the sunbeams from its broken waters and 
 curling amid the rocks that obstructed its way the gold 
 en edges of the clouds at sunset and the amber beams of 
 the coming day, all had attracted her notice and filled her 
 with, delight. So when his own conclusions had been 
 ii^de, and he revealed his thoughts about a change of 
 life, she embraced the notion with a childlike joy ; and 
 at once the whole scene was before her. * The beauty and 
 freshness of the country their snug and quiet home 
 the broad shadows of the trees, the lovely garden the 
 green leaves the cool, spai'kling brook the pleasant 
 walks with him whom she loved beside her along the 
 shaded paths within the echoing woods the lowing kine 
 
 the ride at early dawn the sweet voices of the birds, 
 
 with no daily partings no brow of care no restless 
 nights no haste to be away at business hours nor long 
 watchings for the well known footsteps through the lone-' 
 ly evening. " Oh, how delicious it would be ! how like 
 true living ! " 
 
 And at once his mind is settled and his affairs arranged 
 for a final move. He found, however, that the amount he 
 would realize, would not quite come up to the balance in 
 his favor which his books displayed. He would have 
 enough however, to purchase a farm of desirable size and 
 still have some thousands at interest. ' The farm would, 
 of course, provide all the necessaries of life, and the sur 
 plus would enable him to procure such extras as might 
 tend to make their surroundings more agreeable to the 
 taste of his wife. His stock of goods was disposed of to 
 those who took his stand of business, and most of his sur 
 plus fund was in notes at various and extended dates, well 
 endorsed as he believed, and he and his little family bade 
 good-bye to the city, and were now, at the commencement 
 of our story, just about to enter upon the new state of ex 
 istence they had marked out for themselves. 
 
 They were now seated together in the fore part of the 
 vessel, and within the grateful shadow which the outspread 
 sail afforded. Two little children were amusing them-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 131 
 
 selves near to them sitting on the deck a boy and girl 
 their only children. A tidily dressed young woman 
 was near at hand, wh'o occasionally said something to the 
 little Ones, and was ready to assist them in their play or 
 occasionally to take them up and show them a passing sloop, 
 or some object on the distant shore. 
 
 " How happy they seem to be ! " said Mrs. Sandford, 
 laying her hand upon her husband's arm, and looking into 
 his face, " and you too, Edward, your brow seems smooth 
 er already. You feel a great relief do you not ? " 
 
 " I do, indeed, Caroline. I feel as if in a new world ; it 
 never seemed so bright to me before. I feel now as if I 
 could enjoy what God has given me. You seem nearer 
 and dearer to me, and these little darlings, and this beau 
 tiful creation around us, the water and the land and the 
 bright sky and the pure free air. The only thing which 
 troubles me now, is the fear that you may not like our 
 change ; you will miss so. many things that were sources 
 of comfort to you in the city." 
 
 " Do not for a moment, I beg of you, allow a shade of 
 fear on my account. I am very happy I assure you 
 very, very happy." . 
 
 " I am almost sorry I did not take you up to see the 
 place before I pui'chased. I fear you will be disappointed, 
 the house is so plain and things ai - e in such disorder, and 
 then the state of society may not be agreeable." 
 
 " Will it not be as bad for you, as for me ? " 
 
 " Oh, well, I shall have you and the children." 
 
 " And I shall have you and the children, too, and do 
 you not think it will be happiness enough for me to hear 
 once again your free, hearty laugh, and to know that the 
 burden of care you have labored under is removed ; and 
 to see you seated under the shadow of the big trees you 
 have talked so much about, reading at your leisure some 
 choice book, and perhaps taking my sewing, seat myself 
 beside you and listen to that voice which is so pleasant to 
 me. What care I for a fine house or fine furniture ? I 
 know we have elements of happiness independent of such 
 incidentals." 
 
 Mr. Sandford could not reply. His heart was too deep 
 ly touched, not only by the lovely scene his wife had
 
 132 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 painted to his imagination, but by the exhibition of that 
 pure woman's love which led her to draw the picture. 
 Their conversation was broken in upon just then, by the 
 appearance of Mr. Blanchard, who came up with rather a 
 serious face, remarking : 
 
 "I fear we are going to have an ugly time of it ; the 
 weather looks rather threatening." 
 
 "Ah, indeed!-" said Mr. Sandford. "Where? what 
 sign of it ? " 
 
 " Those clouds gathering in the northwest. What a 
 heavy bank of clouds is rising ! and this south wind don't 
 seem to keep them back." 
 
 Mr. Sandford directed his eye to the object of Mr. 
 Blanchard's alarm, observing : 
 
 " Oh, well, we are only passengers you know : if it rains 
 we can go below, we shall not have to trouble ourselves 
 with the management of the sails. Our captain, I judge, 
 understands his business, "a fine little fellow he seems 
 to me." 
 
 " Perhaps he does, but these captains want watching ; 
 they are very venturesome; they'll carry sail to the last 
 minute." 
 
 "Jenny, Jenny," said Mrs. Sandford, addressing the 
 woman, " Carlos is troubling that gentleman ; you had 
 better bring him here." 
 
 The gentleman alluded to, was the passenger who had 
 delayed the boat and increased the displeasure of Mr. 
 Blanchard. He had taken a seat on a coil of rope not far 
 from where Mr. and Mrs. Sandford were sitting, and was 
 engaged in reading. The child had walked up to him and 
 seemed quite disposed to make friends ; and the gentle 
 man, apparently pleased with the confidence of the little 
 one, had laid down his book and was amusing him with 
 the exhibition of a handsome knife which he had in his 
 hand for the purpose of cutting some leaves in a number 
 of the London Quarterly, the book with which he was 
 then engaged. As the boy did not appear at all disposed 
 to comply with the solicitations of Jenny, Mr. Sandford 
 at once went to her assistance. 
 
 " Come, my boy, give the gentleman his knife. He is a 
 young traveler, sir," addressing the gentleman, " and not 
 versed in the proprieties."
 
 LOOKING AROTTND. 133 
 
 " Let him have it, sir, by all means. I have been quite 
 gratified with his confidence ; children, it is said, can dis 
 tinguish those who like their company." 
 
 "Have you any of your own, sir." 
 
 " Oh no, sir ; I have not that happiness. I am as yet 
 without the pale of such enjoyments, and very seldom see 
 little folks at all, but I often think I should like such a 
 little one about me, if for nothing else, to notice the exhi 
 bition of human nature in its guileless state." 
 
 " Not always a very pleasant exhibition," said Mr. 
 Sandford, smiling. 
 
 " That would depend, I presume, sir, upon the example 
 it should have had. Children, beyond the instinct they 
 have in common with all young animals, will exhibit just 
 such feelings as they perceive their elders manifest ; is it 
 not so, do you think, sir." 
 
 "Doubtless much of the character they exhibit is ac 
 quired from contact with the world in which they live, 
 but after all, there is an innate propensity to evil, which 
 shows itself, in spite of all the influences to good with 
 which they may have been surrounded." 
 
 The eye of the young man which 'was very dark and 
 penetrating, for a moment rested on Mr. Sandford, and a 
 slight flush was manifest on his bronzed cheek, as he re 
 plied : 
 
 " An innate propensity to evil ! born with it, do you 
 think, sir ? " 
 
 Mr. Sandford clearly perceived that the idea was repul 
 sive to the gentleman, and not wishing to get into an ar 
 gument on original sin, and moreover, for some reason 
 rather pleased with the peculiar manner and appearance 
 of the young man, he chose to avoid a direct answer, by 
 saying : 
 
 " No doubt much, if not most of the bad dispositions 
 and departures from the right path is owing to unfortu 
 nate management and improper example." 
 
 " The countenance of the young man brightened up as 
 he replied : 
 
 " Have you seen the last number of the London Quar 
 terly?" 
 
 " I take that work, sir, but have been too busy to look 
 at it since it was out."
 
 134 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 " I am just reading an able article in it, on the instincts 
 and training of animals, and I find the writer classes chil 
 dren among them, although he makes this distinction 
 * the inferior animals act from instinct alone, man from im 
 itation ; but that some of the higher grades of animals 
 approach quite nearly to man in manifesting a degree of 
 imitative power. ' ' 
 
 " Doubtless man has his types in the lower orders of 
 creation, both in physical structure and in his mental or 
 ganization, and yet between the two an infinite chasm ex 
 ists, never to be passed over." 
 
 The young man seemed to be revolving the subject in 
 his mind, as though not quite prepared to reply, and Mr. 
 Sandford took the opportunity to change the subject by 
 addressing his little boy : 
 
 " Conie, my boy, now give the gentleman his knife ; we 
 have intruded Igng enough and kept him from his book." 
 
 " By no means, sir. I ought rather to apologize for thus 
 isolating myself with a book ; it would be more appropri 
 ate in a larger vessel." 
 
 Obedient to his father's word, the little fellow held it 
 up, but looked so wistfully, first at the gentleman and then 
 up at his father, that the former requested he might be 
 permitted to retain it, and added : 
 
 " Captain Joe tells me that you are about to settle in 
 our vicinity, and although they say a knife is not a prop 
 er friendship's offering, yet I think this young gentleman" 
 will remember me by it, and I shall be happy if it prove 
 the means by which he and I shall form a better acquain 
 tance. Please let him keep it, sir." 
 
 Mr. Sandford could not well under the circumstances 
 force the little fellow to give up his prey, but in a low tone 
 replied : 
 
 "Perhaps he will tire of it in a short time and be wil 
 ling to relinquish it. It is almost too valuable a play 
 thing." 
 
 It was indeed a beautiful specimen of its kind, the han 
 dle being of solid silver, very tastefully embellished with 
 carved scenes. 
 
 Mr. Sandford was about to ask the gentleman some 
 questions as to the whereabouts of his residence, when his
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 135 
 
 name was called, and turning saw his wife beckoning him, 
 and both she and the young lady whom we have called 
 Eva, looking towards the eastern shore, the latter pointing . 
 with her finger to some locality there. 
 
 "My dear, do look yonder; Eva says that is 'Sleepy 
 Hollow,' the scene of Irving's beautiful story." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I have just been looking at it ; that young 
 gentleman has pointed it out to me, and I was coming to 
 give you the information. Who told yu of it, Eva ? " 
 
 " I asked the captain to let me know when we should 
 be opposite Sing Sing, and I knew ' Sleepy Hollow ' was 
 in that vicinity, but I cannot distinguish that particular 
 spot. The captain does not know anything about ' Sleepy 
 Hollow,' but he says that village is Sing Sing." 
 
 Mr. Sandford then directed them to the locality as it 
 ha'd been designated to him. 
 
 " What is it you're looking at ? " said Mr. Blanchard, 
 coming up in a familiar way, and addressing the young 
 lady. 
 
 Miss Eva coloi-ed slightly, as she replied, 
 
 " We are looking for the spot where Mr. Irving laid the 
 scene of his legend of ' Sleepy Hollow.' " 
 
 " ' Sleepy Hpllow ! ' it must be a dull kind of a place. 
 What does he say about it ? " 
 
 As the young lady could not very easily have given a 
 satisfactory answer without entering into the details of 
 the story, she preferred to make no reply, and commenced 
 playing with Carlos, admiring the beautiful plaything 
 which he was forcing upon her attention. Mr. Blanchard 
 therefore stepped up to Mr. Sandford, and putting his 
 hand in a familiar way upon that gentleman's shoulder. 
 
 " I say, Sandford, what is there about that place you are 
 all looking at ? " 
 
 " Have you not read the ' Legend of Sleepy Hollow,' by 
 our countryman, Washington Irving ? " 
 
 "Me no. I never read anything but the newspapers, 
 but what is there about it so curious ? " 
 
 Mrs. Sandford looked at Eva and smiled ; that young 
 lady, however, did not smile in return ; her countenance 
 had rather a serious expression. 
 
 "It would be difficult to describe to you, sir," said Mr.
 
 136 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 Sandford, " what charm there is about it, if you have not 
 read the work, but depend upon it, ' Sleepy Hollow ' will 
 be as famous in future in our country, as ' Loch Lomond ' 
 is in Scotland. It is wonderful what power such writers 
 have to invest the localities where they lay their scenes, 
 with deep interest." 
 
 The last idea was addressed to his wife, but Mr. Blan- 
 chard interrupted her by saying : 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is, Sandford, you're all looking over 
 yonder to see something that don ? t seem to me much to 
 look at, while on 'tother side of the river is a sight that I 
 can't keep my eyes off." 
 
 "What is it? " and Mr. Sandford turned as he spoke. 
 
 " There ! a pretty serious business as I take it, and here 
 are we in the middle of Tappan Bay, and a tremendous 
 gust just upon us. Isn't it black ! " 
 
 It was indeed rather a threatening object. The mass 
 of vapor that was rolling up, gathering together its moun 
 tain heaps, as though charged with mighty stores of de 
 struction, had already obscured the sun, and its dark shad 
 ow reflected from the broad expanse of water, gave a som 
 bre aspect to the whole scenery in that direction. 
 
 " We shall have an awful time of it, mind my words. 
 I wish 1 was safe on land ; a plague take these boats." 
 
 "It will likely be a flurry and soon over. I have often 
 noticed that when the clouds are so very dark and threat 
 ening, they soon dissipate as the wind gets under them, 
 and scatter wildly over the heavens without affecting us 
 much below ; they are a grand sight, though ! " 
 
 "There ! the wind is shifting they are hauling in the 
 mainsail it ought to be lowered at once. Come, Sand- 
 ford, go with me and let's speak to the captain." 
 
 " Oh, by no means. He knows his own business best, 
 and may not like any inteference." 
 
 " Like it or not like it, I shall speak to him ; he has no 
 business to be carrying sail when a squall is likely to cap 
 size us at any minute, and women and children on board, 
 too." 
 
 As he said this, Mr. Blanchard looked at the ladies, but 
 whatever may have been their feelings, neither of them 
 showed any signs of being in the least alarmed.
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 137 
 
 
 
 Mr. Sandford, however, seeing that the storm was rap 
 idly approaching, intimated to the ladies that it might be 
 better for them to go into the cabin, as they would be in 
 the way when the squall came ; they immediately de 
 scended, while he followed, leading his boy by the hand. 
 Mr. Blanchard had, in the mean time, ascended the after 
 deck to make known his opinion to the captain. 
 
 " It seems to me, captain, we are going to have a terri 
 ble squall ; had you not better lower sail ? " 
 
 " Not quite yet, sir." 
 
 " But they come very sudden, sometimes ; and remem 
 ber, you have got women and children on board, sir." 
 
 " They don't seem to be much alarmed." 
 
 " They don't know the danger." 
 
 "But I do, sir haul that jib a little tauter," calling 
 aloud to the men at the fore sheet. " You see that boat 
 ahead there, sir," again addressing the gentleman by his 
 side. "She has just lowered her sail, and they lie there 
 at the mercy of the wind. I presume they have no oars, 
 if they had, they never could reach the shore before the 
 storm comes. It's a small boat, and unless we take them 
 up, I tear there'll be mischief. Stand by the halyards, 
 now, with a single turn," again addressing his men. 
 
 "Captain," said the young gentleman who had left his 
 position at the bow, and had come in haste to the quarter 
 deck, " there is a small boat with two ladies and a man, 
 they must be in great danger ; cannot we take them up ? " 
 
 " I am doing my best for it, Mr. Roland, they are in a 
 bad situation. I mean to hold on as long as possible, the 
 wind freshens, though five minutes is all I ask. Will 
 you run to the main hatch, and uncoil line enough as far 
 as you think you can throw,, and be ready the moment we 
 are within reach ? I dare not let a man leave tho hal 
 yards." 
 
 The young man sprang nimbly forward, and in a mo 
 ment more he stood with the coil in his hand and ready to 
 perform his part. 
 
 The storm had burst on the opposite shore, A cloud 
 of dust obscured the whole horizon in that direction. A 
 stiff breeze as yet was only felt on board the sloop, but as 
 her sails were hauled close to the wind, she felt it much
 
 138 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 
 
 more than was comfortable to Mr. Blanchard, or than he 
 thought was by any means safe, for her lee gunwale was 
 near the water. <" 
 
 t " Captain, captain ! " he called out as he held fast to the 
 upper rail of the main deck. " This is too bad ! you are 
 risking the lives of all your passengers." A vivid flash 
 of lightning, followed almost immediately by a tremen 
 dous p.eal of thunder, prevented any further remonstrance 
 on the part of the terrified gentleman. He shut his eyes, 
 resting himself on the deck, and held on with both hands. 
 
 " Had you not better go below ? " 
 
 " Not I, sir. Not for a thousand dollars would I be in 
 that cabin. You are not doing your duty, sir ? " 
 
 The captain made no reply ; his mind was intently oc 
 cupied with care for his own vessel and for the safety 6f 
 those so exposed to imminent danger. 
 
 The small boat was now near at hand. The persons on 
 board of her could be distinctly seen looking fixedly to 
 wards the sloop, and one of the ladies was waving a hand 
 kerchief to attract their notice. Young Roland at once 
 took off his hat and waved it in token that they were 
 seen. The storm was also near. It had struck the wa 
 ters of the bay, and a long stretch of white foam could be 
 seen sweeping on wildly towards them. Presently there 
 was a rushing sound, and the~loud voice of the captain 
 rang out : 
 
 " Let all go< down with mainsail and jib;" 
 
 The roaring wind, the rattling block and the flapping 
 sails, created for the moment a scene of confusion that was 
 by no means very comforting. The captain himself could 
 hardly discern whether the object he had in view was at 
 tained. He knew the boat was within reach, and that the 
 rope had been thrown, but whether the man on board of 
 her caught it, or whether the boat had been swamped by 
 the waves, he knew not. His whole attention for some 
 moments was absorbed in the muneuvers of his men and 
 his own duty at the tiller. His doubt however, were soon 
 dispelled by seeing the three passengers of the little boat, 
 assisted by young Roland, clambering on board. It was 
 however, only by a desperate spring that the young man 
 caught the shrouds, for the boat filled as he was aiding the
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 139 
 
 last lady to ascend the side of the sloop ; all were saved 
 however. The ladies at once descended to the cabin, 
 while the young man grasped the hand of him whom he 
 supposed to be his deliverer. 
 
 " May God bless you for your timely aid ; you have 
 saved my sisters and myself." 
 
 " You must thank the captain," said young Roland, " he 
 held on sail as long as he dared." 
 
 " You are not the captain, then ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, only a passenger. Yonder he is at the tiller." 
 
 The young man, not heeding wind or rain, at once 
 mounted the deck, and offered his hand. 
 
 " Can't take your hand now, sir glad you are safe on 
 board." 
 
 " Our lives, captain, have been saved by your kindness." 
 
 " Perhaps so, we cannot say, however. Walk into the 
 cabin until the squall is over." 
 
 " Can I not be of some use, here ? " 
 
 " Well, if yon please, you can help in hauling in the 
 main sheet." 
 
 Young Roland was already there aiding two of the 
 hands in gathering in the folds of the sail which had been 
 lowered by the run and lumbered the leeward side of the 
 deck. The stranger sprang at the captain's suggestion and 
 laid hold with a right good will. The storm meanwhile 
 raged with great violence, but as it was steady in its force 
 and the sails were down with the exception of enough of 
 the jib to give efficiency to her helm, there was no appar 
 ent danger. The gale lasted only about twenty minutes, 
 but as it ceased the electrical discharges began. The 
 clouds seemed to be suspended over the bay ; flash after 
 flash gleamed across the dark water, and crashing thunder 
 followed quick, reverberating from the surrounding moun 
 tains. It would have been grand if unaccompanied to 
 those in the vessel with manifest danger. How much this 
 was appreciated by the most on board it would have been 
 difficult to say ; no one expressed apprehension but our 
 passenger, whom we left at the outburst of the storm 
 clinging to the upper railing of the quarter deck. He had 
 fairly squatted down, lying partly on one side, his feet 
 drawn up, his hat slouched over his eyes, and was no
 
 140 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 doubt expecting every moment when he should be oblig 
 ed to clamber on the side of a miserable wreck, " all in 
 consequence of the fool-hardihood of an ignorant captain." 
 The lulling of the gale, however, and the terrific peals of 
 thunder evidently aroused him to a new sense of danger. 
 The mast was high and the electric cloud, as he thought, 
 very low. He could not ask the captain to have the for 
 mer lowered, and therefore said nothing to that gentle 
 man ; he came, however, to the conclusion that the cabin 
 would be rather a safer place than the deck, and had risen 
 very cautiously, making his way to the cabin hatch, when 
 a blinding flash of lightning, followed instantly by a crash 
 that sound like the breaking up of the earth's foundation, 
 impelled him to a descent below that was something of 
 the quickest ; in fact he knew nothing, as he afterward said, 
 until he found himself opening the door of the after cabin. 
 Seeing ladies there, however, he immediately stepped back, 
 and finally threw himself on the seat that ran beneath the 
 births. 
 
 " You are not afraid are you ? " said an old lady to 
 Aunt Lizzie as she has been called who was sitting by 
 her side wringing her hands and rocking herself back and 
 forth, with a countenance deadly pale. 
 
 Nothing makes a man feel more foolish than having ex 
 hibited unnecessary haste in avoiding danger when his 
 efforts to do so are entirely uncalled for. Mr. Blanchard 
 was old enough to have known that the danger to him was 
 past, when he saw the glare of lightning; conscious of 
 the weakness he had shown, he was therefore not a little 
 nettled on turning around, to see Mr. Sandford with a 
 smile on his countenance, sitting quite composedly, hold 
 ing his boy on his knee. Hearing at the same time the 
 remark of the old lady, and supposing of course that it 
 was addressed to him, looked rather stern, and replied : 
 
 "Me, madam?" 
 
 " Oh la ! no, sir. Men, I believe, are never frightened at 
 thunder, it is only women and children, they say ; but it's 
 no iise to be scared. The lightning is in God's hands, 
 and it strikes just where he bids it ; some people I've seen, 
 jump and start and run, first here and then there, but I 
 always tell 'em there's no use in it ; it will catch 'em if it's
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 141 
 
 sent after them. We are all in his hands, and that's a 
 blessed thought." 
 
 Mr. Blanchard, no doubt, heard the ( remarks of the old 
 lady, but as he found he had been mistaken in supposing 
 she had refei-red to himself in her first remarks, he did not 
 feel called upon to take any notice of what she said, so he 
 took a seat by Mr. Sandford. 
 
 " Rather a bluster we have had, sir," said the gentle 
 man. 
 
 " A terrible storm, sir ! these captains are not to be 
 trusted, they are fool hardy ; its .a great wonder we have 
 not all been swamped one minute more and she would 
 have capsized." 
 
 "He seems a fine fellow, though, that captain, and 
 since we have been carried safely through, we must give 
 him credit for it. It appears he held on sail for the pur 
 pose of rescuing a little party in a small boat ; it would 
 have been terrible for them to have been left to the mer 
 cy of such a tempest they must have perished." 
 
 " Yes, that's all well enough, but they had no business 
 to be out sailing at such a time." 
 
 " It seems they are a brother and two sisters, who had 
 crossed the river and were returning, and did not notice the 
 approaching gust until they had got too far from the other 
 side to think of going back. They had to take down 
 their sail for fear of the wind, and had no oars on board ; 
 that was careless, to be sure, but they would have done 
 them but little good, as there was but one man with them." 
 Just then the ladies' cabin-door was opened, and the 
 gentlemen rose to offer them seats, and soon a very lively 
 conversation was began and kept up for some time, in 
 which Mr. Blanchard tried his best to take a part. He 
 felt quite sure that the ladies at least had not witnessed 
 the scenes on deck, or that of his descent into the cabin, 
 and he was evidently trying to make himself agreeable. 
 The two ladies who had so suddenly made an addition to 
 the party, were quite young the eldest not apparently 
 over seventeen, and the younger probably fourteen. They 
 might both be called handsome, but the appearance of the 
 elder was decidedly captivating, and in using this term to 
 express her beauty, it relieves us from the necessity of be-
 
 142 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 ing particular in delineating her features ; for all know that 
 the charm of mere expression of countenance, depends 
 not upon any stereotyped cast. It attracts our admiration 
 perhaps, at the first glance its power over us increases 
 as we gaze sometimes we are almost ready to judge 
 that it is the finely arched lips, or its ruby color, and then 
 again we give the credit to the dimpled cheek, with its 
 radiant skin, or the soft eyes so richly shaded. They each, 
 . no doubt, help to give power to the rest, nor do we care 
 to which the greater charm may be attributed. She was 
 tall for her age, of graceful form, her hair quite dark, and 
 rather carelessly dressed, or more properly, arranged with 
 out much design. There was a luxuriance of it, and that 
 it should not be in the way, seemed the aim of its OAvner, 
 rather than to make the most of it as an ornament ; it 
 formed, however, a rich background to her finely moulded 
 face. Mr. Blanchard was evidently much taken with this 
 new vision, and really deserved a rebuke if any one could 
 have administered it with propriety, for the persistency of 
 his stare even while talking to others his eye would be 
 directed that way. But Mr. Blanchard's gaze can do no 
 harm, it is a very innocent token of his sensibility to per 
 sonal charms. Mr. Blanchard's heart is turned in another 
 direction. 
 
 There was, however, an exception to be made of Miss 
 Eva to the remark above, " that there was a lively flow of 
 of conversation," for some cause her manner had changed. 
 She had been conspicuous for animation during the whole 
 scene of the storm, trying to cheer up the elderly lady 
 whom we have styled Aunt Lizzy, and it was not until 
 some little conversation had been held between herself 
 and the two young strangers, and they as was natural had 
 made some revelation of themselves and their companion, 
 and now Miss Eva seems to be in an uneasy frame, of 
 mind. She enters not heartily into any thing that is 
 said ; her fine, fresh color too has departed her eye turns 
 as it were, involuntarily towards the cabin-door. At 
 length voices are heard near the companion way two 
 young men stand side by side there a few moments 
 they are in earnest converse, and their voices are distinct 
 ly heard in the cabin. One of them is the young man
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 143 
 
 whom we have called Roland, and the other is the one 
 who had been rescued from peril in the small boat. 
 
 " I do believe, sister Julia," said the elder of the two 
 young ladies, a"nd the one of whom we have given some 
 particulars, " that brother William has met some old ac 
 quaintance ; he seems so absorbed as hardly to think of 
 us." 
 
 " He knows," replied Mrs. Sandford, " that you are safe 
 in the cabin but here he comes." 
 
 " I should think, Master Willie, you had almost forgot 
 ten us." 
 
 " Oh, no, my good sister, I never do that, but as he 
 was saying this he suddenly paused ; his eye in passing 
 around the cabin, had fixed in an instant upon Miss Eva. 
 A moment he hesitated, and then stepped towards her ; 
 she arose, their hands were clasped, but not a word spok 
 en, and there was for a few seconds perfect silence in the 
 little cabin. All seemed surprised. At length the gentle 
 man said, still retaining her hand : 
 
 " Will you allow me to introduce you to my sisters ? 
 you have often heard me speak of them Miss Eva Stan 
 ley." 
 
 " And often and often have we heard your name. Oh, 
 how glad I am to see you," said the elder sister, sealing 
 her words with a kiss, while the younger earnestly offer 
 ed the same kind salutation. 
 
 Either the warmth of the greeting, or some other cause 
 has however, had a powerful effect on Miss Eva; her 
 face is highly flushed and she seems much agitated. The 
 tears have started, and breaking from the circle, she has 
 tens to the after cabin, followed at once by Mrs. Sandford. 
 The young gentleman, too, gave tokens that his own feel 
 ings were in a disturbed state, for his face was highly flush 
 ed, and his mind confused. A diversion, however, was 
 immediately granted to his thoughts, whatever they may 
 have been ; it was caused by a remark from Mr. Sand- 
 ford. 
 
 " Our storm seems to be about over, sir." 
 
 The young man turned towards the speaker as if to as 
 certain whether the address was intended for him, and as 
 he did so his eye fell upon the glum countenance of Mr.
 
 144 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 Blanchard, who had taken a seat near Mr. Sandford. A 
 moment it fixed a stern and piercing gaze before which 
 the eye of Blanchard quailed and turned away, and the 
 young man then instantly, with a sudden change of aspect 
 replied to Mr. Sandford : 
 
 " So it seems, sir. It was quite violent for a few mo 
 ments indeed, I never felt so much in danger in the 
 wildest storm on the ocean, as when in that small boat." 
 
 " And I think," said the captain, who was just then de 
 scending the stairs, " you were likely in more real dan 
 ger." 
 
 " And I know not, sir," said the young man at the same 
 time taking the captain's hand, " how to express my 
 thanks sufficiently for the prompt manner in which you 
 came to our relief; it was a venture on your part many 
 would have hesitated to make." 
 
 " Oh, sir, I don't need any thanks. I saw you had la 
 dies aboard, and a man will venture a good deal before he 
 will see them harmed." As he said this, his eye glanced 
 towards the two young ladies, at the same time making a 
 slight obeisance. 
 
 " And I can assure you, sir," said the elder of the two, 
 " the ladies do not lightly prize your noble efforts, we feel 
 deeply indebted to you." 
 
 The captain bowed again, and then turned and fixed a 
 quizzical look at Mr. Blanchard, who was in quite an un 
 pleasant state of mind for some cause unknown to most 
 of those about him. The captain seemed about to speak 
 to him, but as if upon reflection having changed his mind, 
 turned to the young man he had first addressed. 
 
 " I suppose the rain will cease in a few moments, as the 
 sky is quite clear in the west ; perhaps you would wish to 
 be put ashore ? " 
 
 " It would certainly be a great favor to us, but I hardly 
 dare ask it, captain. Our boat I suppose has gone to the 
 bottom ? " 
 
 "Not so bad as that. I kept my eye on her, and have 
 sent a couple of hands for her. They are towing her up, 
 she is full of water though at present ; that, however, we 
 can soon bail out when we get her along side, but she will 
 not answer very well for ladies. Our boat will be much
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 145 
 
 more comfortable, and we will see you safe ashore ; we 
 have run somewhat above Sing Sing, but I presume our 
 ladies and gentlemen here will not object to our laying 
 to for such a purpose." 
 
 " By no means, captain," replied Mr. Sandford, " that is, 
 so far as I am concerned, and no doubt we all feel ready 
 to accommodate." 
 
 One or two men in plain farmer's dress who were seat 
 ed in one corner of the cabin, answered quite promptly : 
 
 " By all means, Captain Joe, it's all right." 
 
 Mr. Blanchard said nothing. He was not in a humor to 
 be very accommodating, but as the eye of the captain met 
 his, he made a slight inclination of his head, as much as 
 to say, " do as you please, sir." He would no doubt have 
 been willing to have had the sloop lay to any number of 
 hours, rather than have the young gentleman a passenger 
 to the end of the voyage. 
 
 " In a few moments, then, if you will bring up your la 
 dies, we will be ready for you," said the captain, and 
 sprang up the companion-way with a bound. 
 
 The boat was soon in readiness. As soon as he had 
 handed them to their seats in the boat, the captain turned 
 to the little group that had assembled to witness their de 
 parture. 
 
 " Would any of you ladies like a sail with us, there is 
 plenty of room." 
 
 " Oh, do, do come," exclaimed those in the boat. Do, 
 Miss Stanley." 
 
 Eva hesitated, and looked inquiringly at Mrs. Sandford. 
 
 " Go, by all means, if you feel like it. I should like it 
 myself." 
 
 " Well, madam," said the captain, " why not ? plenty of 
 room." , 
 
 " What do you say, papa ? " turning to her husband. 
 
 " Go, certainly, if you wish." 
 
 Mrs. Sandford and Miss Eva the latter apparently 
 somewhat in doubt but as though yielding to the solici 
 tations of the rest, gave their hands to the captain and 
 were soon in their seats. 
 
 " They will come back faster than they go," said Mr. 
 Sandford to Mr. Blanchard, who had just then come on 
 7
 
 146 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 deck, and who, not caring to manifest any interest in ^ the 
 departure of the young man and his sisters, had remained 
 in the cabin until he supposed they were on their way, 
 " that boat they are towing, impedes their progress consid 
 erably." 
 
 " This is a bad concern, all around," was his answer. 
 
 " How so, my dear sir ! it seems to me a very pretty 
 episode in our voyage, and they all seem so happy." 
 
 "It will delay us all of an hour." 
 
 What is an hour to you or me, Blanchard what dif 
 ference will it make whether we get to our landing one 
 hour sooner or later there is nobody waiting for us." 
 
 " That's not the thing, it's the imposition but where 
 is Eva?" 
 
 " Off, too, don't you see her yonder ? " 
 
 " Gone, too ! what's that for?" 
 
 "Oh, just for the fun of it a little variety you 
 know ladies like that. I felt just boy enough to have 
 gone too, but dared not leave the young ones." 
 
 " We shall not get to the landing until noon to-moiTow, 
 and perhaps not before night." 
 
 "We may as well take it easy, then. We have pros 
 pect of a beautiful evening, a clear sky, and a full moon ; 
 it will be lovely among the highlands to-night. What a 
 beautiful world we live in, Blanchard, all nature seems to 
 be rejoicing and telling of the glory of God." 
 
 Mr. Sandford might have gone on talking to his heart's 
 content in this strain, for any interruption he would have 
 met from his companion. The thoughts of Mr. Blan 
 chard were too busily occupied w r ith other topics, and be 
 sides, he had no sympathy with such feelings. Rivers to 
 him were merely suitable for navigation an easier and 
 cheaper highway than the land. Green fields were valu 
 able for mowing or grazing, and trees were useful for fruit 
 or for fuel. As for mountains by moonlight ! he could not 
 possibly comprehend what beauty there could be about 
 such rugged, rocky, unprofitable lumps of matter ! " 
 
 Just then, young Mr. Roland emerged from the forecas 
 tle, and seeing the two gentlemen near at hand, stepped 
 towards them. 
 
 " I was wondering," said Mr. Sandford, " what had be 
 come of you."
 
 LOOKING AEOTTND. 147 
 
 " Herbert and I assisted in furling the sails until we got 
 somewhat sprinkled, and then betook ourselves into the 
 forecastle to have the advantage of the cook's fire, and to 
 talk over old times." 
 
 "Then you were acquainted with the young gentle 
 man?" 
 
 " We were quite intimate for a time, when we were 
 boys ; we have played together, and fought together, in 
 fact, I ought to have said we have fought together and 
 played together, for our acquaintance commenced by a 
 fight, but it was our first and last disagreement. We 
 have not seen each other for many years, however, until 
 we so strangely met to day." 
 
 " He is a fine looking fellow ; there is something very 
 attractive in his countenance, do you not think so, Mr. 
 Blanchard ? you saw him, you know, in the cabin." This 
 was said by Mr. Sandford. 
 
 "I didn't see anything very remarkable about him," 
 was the reply. " He seems to have a good share of pride." 
 
 " He has some, title to indulge a little pride, sir," replied 
 Roland. " He has had to make his own way in the world, 
 and has got a good foothold now ; he will be a rich man 
 if his life is spared." 
 
 "Does he belong in this part of the country ?" said 
 Mr. Sandford, addressing himself to Roland. 
 
 " I think he was born in the eastern part of the state, 
 but when I first knew him, he was under the care of the 
 Rev. Mr. Ransom of our town." 
 
 " Indeed ! then you reside in Woodburn ? " 
 
 " I do, sir." 
 
 "Carry on farming?" joined in Mr. Blanchard, who 
 had puzzled himself very much to know what position in 
 society the young man belonged. 
 
 " I do a little in that way, sir.' 
 
 " Speaking of Mr. Ransom," said Mr. Sandford, " I was 
 much pleased with an interview I had with him when I 
 was in Woodburn looking for a place ; in fact, I don't know 
 but I must say, the high opinion I formed of him, decided 
 me in purchasing there. Is he thought much of in the 
 place ? ". 
 
 " He is esteemed very highly, sir, and I must say I be-
 
 148 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 lievc he deserves to be ; at any rate, a man who should 
 speak against him in Woodburn would get his head into 
 a hornet's nest at once." 
 
 " It is a great thing to have the right kind of a minister, 
 especially in the country ; they have generally more influ 
 ence in many ways in forming the character, and giving a 
 tone to society, than they can possibly have in the city ; 
 that is, if they are what they ought to be." 
 
 " There is a great difference in them, however," replied 
 Mr. Roland. "Some we had have never did much to 
 affect the state of society for good or evil. Mr. Ransom, 
 though, I must confess, has had a mighty influence in our 
 place ; he seems to be a man of good, common sense. 
 One thing is singular about him ; although a very temper 
 ate man himself, and one who long before the temperance 
 movement set an example, as I have been told, to his 
 brother clergy, yet will have nothing to do personally with 
 the movement." 
 
 "That is singular ! does he not approve of it ? " 
 
 " I have never been intimate with him, and therefore 
 have no means of knowing his peculiar reasons ; but 
 from what I have seen myself of the manner in which the 
 thing is managed, I am not at all surprised that a man of 
 the good sense I take him to have, should have some 
 scruples about the propriety and efficacy of their meas 
 ures." 
 
 " I don't approve of all their measures, myself, but have 
 you no temperance society in your place ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, sir, but the people manage the affair. He 
 says, as I am told, that it properly belongs to them ; that 
 his business is to preach the gospel that temperance as 
 well as other virtues which the Bible inculcates, it is part 
 of his duty to enforce by precept and example, and that 
 it is his aim to.leave none of them without due attention." 
 
 " Do you not have temperance lecturers come among 
 you?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir, but the church is never opened to them. 
 Mr. Ransom seems in that respect to have adopted the 
 views of the Episcopal church. He says, 'a building con 
 secrated to the worship of God, is too sacred a place to be 
 used for the purpose of having all kind of loose and vul-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 149 
 
 gar anecdotes related, and especially by men who pretend 
 to be reformed drunkards, retailing with unblushing 
 cheeks accounts of their former drunken scrapes ; and I 
 must say I respect him for the stand he has taken in that 
 particular. I should say, from what 1 have heard from the 
 lips of those lecturers myself, that it would be a profa 
 nation." 
 
 "I have had, I must say, such thoughts myself, when 
 I have been listening to some of those persons. The 
 pulpit did not seem to me just the right place for them, 
 nor a church a proper place for exhibitions. But do the 
 people give in to him ? Does it not make some distur 
 bance among them ? You know there is a great amount 
 of feeling waked up on this subject ; not only individuals 
 but ministers are denounced if they do not fall in and 
 help along the cause." 
 
 " He has a strong hold of his people I imagine, sir ; 
 they seem to think he is about right. I have heard of 
 no disturbance. There is a rumor that he has had a call 
 though, from the city, and there seems to be a good deal 
 of apprehension by some that he will accept ; the salary 
 offered is three or four times as much as he gets here." 
 
 " Then I fear he will accept. Somehow our ministers 
 manage^to reconcile it to their conscience, to leave their 
 people, even if things are ever so satisfactory. The plea 
 is ' a larger sphere of usefulness.' You attend his church, 
 I presume." 
 
 The young man colored somewhat and manifested some 
 confusion, as he replied : 
 
 " I attend there occasionally. I go there when I go 
 anywhere but here comes the boat." 
 
 " Ah^indeed, so it is." 
 
 Mr. Blanchard now came up. He had not remained to 
 take part in the conversation ; his mind was in a restless 
 state, and not in a mood for Entering into the concern of 
 either ministers, parishes, or the public in general. He 
 was, however, much concerned for some one in that little 
 boat, and as it neared the sloop, watched apparently each 
 sweep of the oars with deep interest. 
 
 " They have had a fine time I imagine, they all seem 
 lively and happy." This remark was addressed to Mr.
 
 150 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 Blanchard, as the young gentleman had withdrawn a lit 
 tle one side from those who were more particularly con 
 cerned in her arrival, but the boat was near enough to en 
 able those on board to catch its meaning. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," exclaimed Mrs. Sandford, " we have had 
 a delightful time, both of us, only Eva seems down-hearted 
 on the return trip." 
 
 Eva colored a little, as she at that moment gave her 
 hand to Mr. Blanchard, who was eagerly holding out his 
 for that purpose. 
 
 " So you run away without asking," was the salutation 
 she received as she sprang, with his assistance, to the deck. 
 
 She looked at him a moment as though desirous of as 
 certaining whether the remark was made in jest or ear 
 nest. She probably comprehended its meaning as intend 
 ed, for she made no reply whatever. 
 
 " Yes, papa," said Mrs. Sandford, " we have had a most 
 delightful trip of it, and we both feel truly grateful to our 
 captain here, for his kind invitation, and for all the pains 
 he has taken to make it pleasant." 
 
 " I hope, madam, the trip has given you a good appetite 
 for supper, which I guess is now ready for us." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 We left our passengers, in the last chapter, about to take 
 their places at the supper table, but as suppers on board 
 sloops arc no great affairs, we will pass and take a look at 
 things on deck, about the hour of nine o'clock. The 
 breeze had been quite favorable, and with one or two 
 short tacks after entering the highlands, they were ena 
 bled to make fair headway ; it was now evidently dying 
 away. The sails were not filled, and scarcely a ripple 
 could be heard at the bow of the boat. But the scenery
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 151 
 
 around there was of a character which one who had any 
 taste for the beautiful and even the grand, would not wish 
 to hurry through. They had passed the famous promon 
 tories of Dunderberg and Anthony's Nose. Mountains 
 arose before them and behind them and on every side, in 
 varied outlines some conical, wooded to the summit 
 some rising boldly from the water, presenting a huge sur 
 face of broken rock, spotted with low scrubby trees 
 some from behind a level plateau a little further from the 
 river, and looking down no doubt on cultivated farms and 
 a few handsome dwellings, too much elevated above the 
 river, however, to be distinctly seen from thence. The 
 moon's full face was just peeping over a ridge of moun 
 tains in the east, and as her fairy beams fell upon the op 
 posite shore and rugged mountain-.side, all manner of fan 
 tastic edifices, and deep caverns and outlandish forms of 
 men or beasts at once lay pictured to view. Occasionally 
 a white gleam would come back from the landscape and 
 mark the position of some secluded mansion on the 
 patches of mist that were gathering on lower spots with 
 in and beneath the mountains a white mantle in the 
 fairy moonbeams. The whippowils were wide awake 
 too, and their ringing notes, in answer to each other, were 
 the only sounds to break the silence, except that of some 
 small cascade tumbling along from its hidden recess into 
 the river. 
 
 Most of the passengers had crept into their berths, and 
 among them Mr. Blanchard ; he was discouraged when 
 the wind died out, and went below bestowing himself 
 just as he was, partly on two chairs, and partly on his 
 pillow and mattrass, which he had hauled to the edge of 
 the berth. He complained of the heat he feared the 
 bugs too, which he said were always on board of sloops, 
 although the Polly was never known to carry any such 
 passengers but he wished to be on the safe side. 
 
 Mr. Sandford and young Roland had taken a seat to 
 gether near the bow of the vessel, and were much engag 
 ed in conversation on topics of deep interest, especially 
 to the latter, but we cannot attend to them just now ; our 
 business is more particularly with two lady passengers 
 who, wrapped in their shawls and seated amid-ship had
 
 152 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 been enjoying the beauties of the strange scenery around 
 them. They are now engaged in conversation, and al 
 though the tone of their voice is low, yet the subject 
 seems to be of much interest to them both, for the elder 
 lady has taken the hand of the younger, and is holding it 
 on her lap, and while the rather sad countenance of the 
 latter betrays perhaps more feeling than she could wish to 
 express, even before a friend with whom she was quite in 
 timate. As the conversation is of some consequence in 
 the unfolding of our story, there can be no harjn in our 
 listening to it. 
 
 " Why is it, dear Eva, that you have never happened 
 to mention the name of Mr. Herbert to me before ? " 
 
 "Why should I, Mrs. Sandford? " 
 
 " Only because I perceived that both he and you mani 
 fested a good deal of feeling when you first recognized 
 each other. You certainly was deeply affected, and he 
 evidently had his mind intent on you all the time on our 
 excursion to the shore." 
 
 " Why was it that he scarcely addressed me all the 
 way?" 
 
 " There may have been a reason for that ; perhaps if 
 you two had been alone, he would not have been so si 
 lent." 
 
 "My feelings were no doubt excited, Mrs. Sandford, for 
 a sight of him brought at once to my mind some of the 
 happiest days of my life my own dear home and my 
 loving parents." 
 
 " Why, was he ever a member of your father's family ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, for some years, he was a clerk in my father's 
 store and lived with us. I was but a little girl when he 
 first came, and he a boy of perhaps fifteen. I ha'd no 
 brothers nor eisters, and of course you know, it was very 
 natural for two thus associating every day to become in 
 timate, and my parents never making any objections to 
 his waiting upon me, etc., why of course we were as much 
 together as a brother and sister might have been." 
 
 " Do you know anything of his family ; did they live in 
 the city?" 
 
 " Oh, no, they lived in the country." 
 
 " Did his parents never visit him ? "
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 153 
 
 " His father did once or twice. He was a very fine 
 looking man, and appeared to think a great deal of 
 Will of his son. He had a step-mother, a very pecu 
 liar woman, and that was the reason why he never visited 
 his home ; and it was only during the last year that he 
 was with us, that I ever heard him speak of his sisters." 
 
 " That is strange ! He seems now to be very fond of 
 them." 
 
 " They are not full sisters, his own mother died when 
 he was quite young. Yes, he does seem very fond of 
 them, and they of him." 
 
 " Did he live with you until the death of your father ? ' 
 
 " Yes, and I have no doubt if my father had lived, he 
 would have been taken as a paitner; for I have often 
 heard my father express his great confidence in him. I 
 heard him once say that if he should die, there was no one 
 he would so soon entrust the settlement of all his busi 
 ness with, as to Mr. Herbert, and I know mother was quite 
 surprised to find when father's will was read, that William 
 was not one of the executors." 
 
 " How did it happen that Mr. Blanchard should have 
 had every thing entrusted to his care, and you put under 
 his guardianship ? " 
 
 " I suppose it was on account of the great intimacy be 
 tween Aunt Blanchard as I. always called her and 
 my mother and father ; you know, she when a child had 
 been adopted by them. I was not born until they had 
 been married twenty years. Mr. Blanchard married her, 
 and the families were always very intimate." 
 
 "I suppose young Herbert left then, at your father's 
 death?" 
 
 " Yes, soon after, and in a strange manner. He very 
 soon procured another situation, for he understood busi 
 ness thoroughly. He remained but a few days at our 
 house, although we expected him to make it his home. 
 My* mother was anxious that he should do so, as we were 
 alone, and he had been there so long, and had even taken 
 charge of many things in the family, purchasing supplies 
 etc., just as if he had been a son and a brother. But all 
 at once he made up his mind to leave us. I did not know 
 the cause nor did my mother; we only surmised that 
 7
 
 154 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 some difficulty had arisen between him and Mr. Blanchard, 
 but he made no explanations. All he said, was, ' that if 
 ever he could be of any assistance to my mother in any 
 way, he would be ready to render it to the utmost of his 
 power.' I have always thought he might have given to my 
 mother some reason for his strange conduct." 
 
 " Perhaps he could not do so without implicating Mr. 
 Blanchard, and it is possible something may have been 
 said to him by that gentleman, by which his feelings were 
 wounded ; he seems to me to have fine sensibilities." 
 
 " He is very sensitive, I know. He has a spirit of in 
 dependence that borders on pride. He could very easily 
 be aroused if that were touched, but then, what had we 
 done ! He had been treated with great familiarity and 
 kindness." 
 
 " Did he never call at your house after he left ? " 
 
 " He called during my mother's illness she died soon 
 after my father. I did not see him, for I did not know 
 that he had called it has been a strange thing altogeth 
 er. I feel very sure he thought a great deal of my father 
 and my mother, too." 
 
 " And of you, too, dear Eva, and I feel very sure he 
 does now." 
 
 "Why then should he never have called upon me after 
 my mother's death ? He knew I was alone in the world 
 he knew with what confidence I had always treated 
 him, reposing on his care, and taking his advice about all 
 matters, and consulting with him just as a sister with a 
 brother." 
 
 It was with difficulty the closing sentence came from the 
 trembling lips of the young lady. The thoughts which 
 had come from the past, brought with them scenes that 
 had taken hold of the deep fountains of her heart. She 
 could not quite brace herself against them. Pride Avould 
 have forbidden that a tear should fall at the remembrance 
 of what William Herbert had once been to her, but she 
 was sitting beside one whose heart was as sensitive as her 
 own, a few years her elder, but still fresh with all a wo 
 man's sympathies, and who could understand how the heart 
 might be interested and inwardly bleed, while propriety
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 155 
 
 would demand an unruffled exterior. Mrs. Sandford 
 pressed the hand of her young friend. 
 
 "Dear Eva, don't be troubled. I feel assured there 
 will yet be an explanation. That young man's very coun 
 tenance expresses honor and truthfulness ; he is not one to 
 trifle with friendship, or be indifferent to its sacred de 
 mands. You will be thrown together now, no doubt, for 
 his sisters are to reside in Woodburn. They are, it ap 
 pears, under the care of the minister of. the parish. You 
 will have an opportunity for frequent interviews." 
 
 " I shall never seek an interview, Mrs. Sandford." 
 
 "But you would grant one, if asked for." 
 
 " Circumstances must decide whether I should or not." 
 
 Just then Mr. Sandford came up to them, having left 
 the young gentleman with whom he had been engaged in 
 conversation. 
 
 " I have a proposition to make to you, which you are 
 at liberty to accept or not, just as you please." 
 
 " I can have no possible objections to hear it, then, since 
 the conditions are so reasonable, only I hope it is not that 
 we leave this lovely scene for the confinement of the cab 
 in, in that case I fear I should be tempted to take advan 
 tage of the privilege you have annexed." 
 
 " Not exactly that, but if you accede to the plan pro 
 posed, it may be advisable to retire soon, for you may be 
 obliged to make an early start." 
 
 "Do, papa, let me hear it. I cannot conceive what it 
 can be ; there will certainly be no need, from present ap 
 pearances, for very early rising, without it be to witness 
 the breaking of day among these mountains. That in 
 deed may be worth a little sacrifice." 
 
 " You will probably have an opportunity to witness it. 
 The tide will turn about twelve o'clock, which, with a 
 light breeze, even very light, will enable us to make a lit 
 tle headway. About ten miles from where we now lay, 
 is a private landing ; it belongs to this young gentleman, 
 with whom I have been conversing, and whose house is 
 just above it. From thence to our farm is only three 
 miles, or rather he says two and a half, whereas, from the 
 proper landing of the sloop, will be all of eight miles. 
 Now, his proposition is, that I and my family land with
 
 156 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 him, and he will send us immediately on our way. He 
 has horses which he says it will be a favor for him to have 
 used." 
 
 " But our trunks and some furniture ! Why, dear hus 
 band, think what a load ! you and I and the two children, 
 the nurse and Betty ! " 
 
 " The trunks and furniture can go on with the sloop 
 I can send for them." 
 
 " Well, I am sure I can have no objections ; it is cer 
 tainly very kind in him." 
 
 " Then it is a bargain shall I tell him so ? " 
 
 "Yes, and present my acknowledgements for his gener 
 ous offer. Only two and a half miles ! then, dear hus 
 band, he will be quite a neighbor of ours." 
 
 " Yes, and I think a pleasant one, too." 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Well, this has been a day marked with peculiar events 
 for us all. Little did we think when we started on our 
 sail of pleasure, this morning, that the aspect of the sky 
 could change so suddenly. We were in great danger, 
 greater than I have ever thought myself to be on the 
 ocean." ' 
 
 " But now, William, I want to talk with you about Miss 
 Stanley. We are alone, and I can talk >freely. She is 
 very beautiful ! do you not think so ? " 
 
 " I cannot say but she is." 
 
 " You know she is, and that you think so, too, and that 
 you " 
 
 " Please stop, dear sister ; do not let us bring up this 
 subject again. You have known some of my feelings in 
 days past, but you have never known the agony I have 
 suffered. Thank God, I have risen above it at last." 
 
 " Willie, Willie, dear William ! " and she clasped with 
 both hands the arm on which she was leaning. " Do not 
 deceive yourself, or try to ; you cannot deceive me, how-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 157 
 
 ever, I know you too well. You love Eva Stanley, and 
 there is no use in trying to hide your feelings from me." 
 
 " I have no wish to conceal any thing from you, Mary, 
 but T tell you truly, that whatever feeling I have had for 
 her, I have crushed out." 
 
 The lively girl who was hanging on his arm looked him 
 full in the face, and then broke out into a hearty laugh. 
 
 " Crushed it out ! Oh Willie, do not tell me that. I 
 have never been in love, you know, but I can give a good 
 guess what the feeling is ; it cannot be crushed out. It 
 may be smothered a little its strong yearnings may be 
 stifled somewhat by earnest engagements, when busy 
 among your hides in Rio, and jabbering away with Span 
 ish Gauchas, you no doubt forget all about Eva, and Mary, 
 and Julia, and every one else that you love, or loves you ; 
 but when you are alone, and your mind has time to rest a 
 little, I know you need not tell me swift as thought 
 can fly, it skims the ocean and is here among us, and then 
 all those pleasant times you used to enjoy at Eva's home, 
 and the pleasant walks you took with her by your side, 
 and her arm entwined with yours, and her face turned up 
 to yours in all the confidence of a sister, and her musical 
 voice, and her merry laugh, and her grace of motion and 
 of form, and her beauty and her guileless ways all come 
 before you, and you sit and think and nourish the dear 
 vision, and you are helpless now is not that so ?" 
 
 " Oh, Mary, you are a most inveterate talker ; it would 
 completely exhaust me to go through such a long speech." 
 
 "It does not tire me in the least, dear. I can just as 
 well as not, go straight through another one, only I wish 
 to hear something from you. I want you for once, dear 
 William, to let out the budget that you have so long kept 
 to yourself, and especially now as you are so soon to leave 
 us to come back nobody knows when can't you trust 
 me ? " and again her countenance beaming with sisterly 
 interest, was turned full upon him. 
 
 " Well, Mary, if I must talk, let us take a seat on this 
 rock ; the fact is, I am not so strong as I once was, or I 
 am getting old and lazy." 
 
 " It is age, my dear ; only to think how time steals 
 along already you have seen twenty-four summers and
 
 158 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 twenty -three winters it is a long time to live, dear, but 
 come, sit down ; what are you looking at ? " 
 
 " The beauties of nature. Can there be anything more 
 lovely than the river from this spot those heaps of 
 mountains those green fields that long stretch of bare 
 wall fringed with cedars that glassy bay lying as smooth 
 as if its waters had not been disturbed for a month." 
 
 "They looked disturbed and angry enough to-day. 
 Water is pretty, but it is very deceitful ; the least thing 
 stirs it up, and the least change in clouds alters its face ; 
 it is wonderful, though, how very smiling it is now, and 
 how complacently it receives the slanting sunbeams, and 
 reflects the rugged hills and the boats at anchor on its 
 bosom, but the sun is going down, and the dew will soon 
 be on the grass ; every moment now is precious, so come, 
 take your seat, and like a good boy, for once, do the right 
 thing, and make me your confidant." 
 
 " I always have " taking his seat beside her " have 
 I not?" 
 
 " Oh, well, in a certain way. You have told me about 
 many things, but what I wish to know now, is, how you 
 feel about Eva since you have seen more of the world. 
 That you should have been captivated when so much in 
 her society, and before you had an opportunity to mingle 
 with other ladies and before your mind had become some 
 what matured, was very natural the question is how 
 do you feel, now ?" 
 
 " I have told you I have crushed it out." 
 " It looked like it, when you met her to-day. I think 
 the crushing operation must have been going on then, for 
 you turned as red as a purple rose, and then as pale as if 
 life was going from you." 
 
 " I was enraged at meeting that Blanchard, knowing 
 that poor guileless girl was subject to his control. I will 
 tell you what I have lately heard. For a while it was 
 said that both he and his wife tried their best to form a 
 union between Eva and their son George, but she had too 
 much sense to be pleased with such a mere dandy, but 
 now that his wife is dead, it is believed he is trying to court 
 her himself." 
 
 " I cannot believe it. People, at least some, are always
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 159 
 
 showing out their suspicious natures by surmising evil of 
 others. Why, his wife was her own aunt, was she not ? " 
 
 "By no means. She was the daughter of a lady who 
 married for her second husband Albert Stanley, the broth 
 er of Robert Stanley, Eva's father. Albert Stanley and 
 his wife dying, this lady was adopted by Robert Stanley, 
 as he had no children. Eva was not born until her fath 
 er and mother had been married fifteen or twenty years." 
 
 " That accounts for her being made such a pet of as you 
 have said she was." 
 
 " Robert Stanley and his wife w r ere much attached to 
 this young lady. Her name was Maynard. Blanchard 
 married her, and the two families were always very inti 
 mate, and no doubt the reason why Robert Stanley ap 
 pointed Blanchard guardian of his daughter was, that he 
 believed Blanchard's wife would be a true mother to Eva." 
 
 " Was she not ? " 
 
 " She was a woman of no sensibility, a very common 
 place sort of person never loved any one very much 
 her children excepted. I think it likely she was never un 
 kind to Eva, but what little love she was able to give was 
 bestowed, from what I hear, upon her own flesh and 
 blood." 
 
 "It nwst have been a great change for that dear girl 
 from such a home and such attention and love as she once 
 had. But you do not suppose for a moment, that Eva 
 could be induced to throw herself away upon such a per 
 son as Blanchard, old enough to be her father !" 
 
 " I cannot tell, he is a very strange man. He can be 
 very complaisant and insinuating when he has an end to 
 gain and that he has a very important end in view in 
 trying to get her, I know and to my cost, I know he 
 can be very rough and tyrannical when it pleases him to 
 be so." 
 
 " You have never told me the particulars of his treat 
 ment at the time you left, and I did not wish to ask you." 
 
 " His treatment was shameful, and I have no doubt he 
 has since been much ashamed of it. He knew that I was 
 dependent upon my salary that I also knew all about 
 the business, and had for some time carried it on almost 
 without the aid of Mr. Stanley and he also knew that
 
 160 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 with a very little aid afforded me by not withdrawing the 
 whole of Mr. Stanley's funds, I might have gone on with 
 the business. It would have been no damage to Mr. Stan 
 ley's estate, and Mr. Stanley expi-essed to me his wish that 
 thus it should be ; and I supposed that some arrangement 
 had been made in the will to that effect, but it proved 
 otherwise, no doubt through Blanchard's influence, for he 
 was quite insulting in his remarks when I made the prop 
 osition, and went on to say that but no matter, I do not 
 wish to say any more." 
 
 " Dear William, my dearest brother, tell me all. ' I wish 
 to know every pang that has pierced your heart." 
 
 "I dislike to recall the scene, much less can I bear to 
 speak of it, but you shall have it. After expressing in 
 rather strong language his surprise that I should have the 
 temerity to make the request, he added, ' I think further, 
 that your hanging around the family of Mrs. Stanley since 
 the death of Mr. Stanley, is, to say the least, very strange. 
 Delicacy ought to have shown you its impropriety, espec 
 ially, as Mrs. Stanley herself is now confined to her bed. 
 It must on many accounts, be very unpleasant to the fam 
 ily.'" 
 
 " What did you reply." 
 
 " My dear sister, what could I say ? My heart was full, 
 and I feared if I attempted to speak, my feelings would 
 get the upper hand, and I did not care to let him see how 
 much his injustice had caused me to suffer. I merely 
 made out my account of salary due me at that date ; he 
 at once paid it, and I left the premises." 
 
 Mary Herbert was looking full in the face of her broth 
 er. She was much excited. She well knew how keenly 
 sensitive he was how pure and noble was every thought 
 that Tie should have been treated thus that he should 
 have suffered silently under such barbarous treatment, at 
 a time too, when he had no worldly protector, and was 
 left to feel that all his past faithful services was to go for 
 nothing! Her emotion could not be restrained, and lean 
 ing on his shoulder, she gave full vent to her tears. For 
 some time they sat in silence, the brother thinking of the 
 past, only with gratitude for that kind Providence which 
 had, in the hour of his extremity, opened a way for him,
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 161 
 
 in which his energies might be exerted. Wonderfully had 
 he been dealt with ! He is now in a condition of compar 
 ative independence. He is a partner in a lucrative busi 
 ness, and although for some years yet, must suffer a sepa 
 ration from those he loves, for the active and responsible 
 duties of his station in a foreign land, yet what is that, 
 when from it comes his present independence, and a fu 
 ture home in which he hopes to cluster these jewels of his 
 heart. 
 
 u Dear, dear William, oh that I could have suffered for 
 you ! " 
 
 " The suffering is all past now, dear. Let us think of 
 it, only to stir our hearts with gratitude, and to inspire 
 them with hope and trust." 
 
 " But that man contemptible, cruel man ! I wonder 
 when you met him on board that sloop to-day, you did 
 not say or do something to let him know how much you 
 despise him." 
 
 " I presume he has a just idea of the opinion I have of 
 him, and I rather think my presence under the circum 
 stances, was punishment enough. The manner in which 
 Eva met me the deep emotion she manifested < must 
 have been torture indeed, if there is any truth in the re 
 port I mentioned." 
 
 "And the feeling she manifested on seeing you! " 
 
 " Oh, no, dear Mary, do not deceive yourself ; that emo 
 tion had nothing to do with me, except as the sight of me 
 brought back the scenes of the past." 
 
 " And you, dear William, are connected with that past, 
 vely upon what I say." 
 
 " I feel that this has been an unfortunate day foi\me." 
 
 " Willie, you must not say so. It seems more to me 
 like a day of peculiar providences our deliverance from 
 danger, and your meeting with Eva take it all togeth 
 er, it has been a star day, one from which some very im 
 portant, and perhaps strange results may follow." 
 
 "Mary, your romantic mind, I see, tinges the incidents 
 of life with a halo that may be very agreeable to you, and 
 perhaps may do you no material harm, but I cannot see in 
 them what you see. Now that meeting with Eva, makes 
 me rather sad than otherwise. It has recalled so many
 
 162 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 happy scenes now past forever, and with the happy ones, 
 some, that I have tried entirely to forget ; it has been like 
 a fresh injury to a wound nearly healed." 
 
 " Say, rather, dear William, that it has been the renew 
 al of feelings in the minds of two beings most intensely in 
 terested in each other, but which outward circumstances 
 had for a long time kept apart, but a single glance of the 
 eye, a single clasp of the hand, has taught them that the 
 will is powerless against the heart." 
 
 " You are very sanguine, Mary, and I have no doubt you 
 are in earnest in what you say. You love me, I know, and 
 you of course think that one who has seen so much of me 
 as Eva has, must certainly love me too ; and perhaps I 
 have been vain enough in days past to indulge such a 
 hope, but keep in mind, that in all my intercourse with 
 her, I was very careful to say or do nothing that should 
 give her the least intimation how I felt towards her that 
 is, as a lover. I was of course ready to meet her re 
 quests with pleasure, but never forward in my attentions." 
 
 " And do you not know that such a course was much 
 more likely to win such a heart, than if you had been very 
 obsequious ready to spring the moment her thimble or 
 her scissors happened to fall on the floor watching eve 
 ry look, and trying to say agreeable things, like George 
 Blanchard, as you have described him to me, with his 
 hands delicately cased in gloves, and his chin fastened as 
 in a vice between two stiff collars, and his feet dressed 
 like a dancing master, afraid of doing this, and afraid of 
 saying that, lest it might not be altogether proper or pleas 
 ing. Women, nor girls, like your ' nice ' young men ; they 
 want io see character, independence of thought and ac 
 tion. They want something to look up to, to lean upon, 
 and not a butterfly fluttering around them and showing 
 its gaudy wings but here comes Julia." 
 
 " Oh, you good-for-nothings, you have put me all out of 
 breath hunting for you." 
 
 " What's the trouble now, sis," as he arose from his seat 
 and took the hand of the panting girl. 
 
 " The matter is, that we have been ' come for.' " 
 
 "Come for?" 
 
 "Yes, the young man with whose family we are to
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 163 
 
 board, says that he expects to be busy to-morrow, and he 
 thought it might possibly make no difference to us if he 
 came this evening. It will be moonlight, he says, and it 
 is only two hours' drive. What a fine looking young man 
 he is, Bub ; quite a gentleman in manners, too is he a 
 fanner ? " 
 
 " Yes, Julia, he is a farmer, and they tell me he is a hard 
 worker, too. He is a noble-hearted, manly fellow. Mr. 
 Ransom gave me quite a history of him. I cannot tell it 
 now, but he takes ypu two girls to board, because he has 
 lost a large sum of money, for Mm, through means of a 
 brother. The brother has failed, and more than two thou 
 sand dollars of the responsibilities he has taken upon him 
 self. He kept up a good heart, however, and has taken the 
 whole family home. He says so long as the old home 
 stead stands, and he has hands to work, it shall be a ref 
 uge for all those who sat together with him on the same 
 knee, and were born under the same roof. You will have 
 plenty of company, therefore, but the house is large enough 
 to hold a small colony." 
 
 This was said while they were walking towards their 
 place of residence. Each sister clung to an arm. They 
 were about to separate ; the parting was to have taken 
 place in the morning, and the elder sister, Mary, was ex 
 pressing regrets that they should have been sent for so 
 many hours before the time. She was interrupted by the 
 brother. 
 
 " A few hours, Mary, more or less, can make no material 
 difference, and I wish there may be no such scene as 
 marked our first separation. We love one another, and 
 enjoy each other's society, but we cannot always be to 
 gether. Let us be thankful that I have work to do. Let 
 there be no tears then, but with a smile and a kiss, let us 
 say good-bye. We shall have in our hearts the conscious 
 ness of mutual affection, and the hope of meeting again 
 in a few years. In the meantime, letters can be passing 
 with every ship that is bound for Rio, or from Rio to New 
 York or Boston." 
 
 " William v you are strangely platonic, this evening. I 
 do not know what to think of you ; if I did not know to 
 the contrary, I should conclude your heart has become 
 callous."
 
 164 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " I have felt the necessity for hardening it." 
 
 " Against us ! " and his younger sister looked him full in 
 the face. 
 
 " No, dear sister, not against you or any other friends, 
 but against circumstances." 
 
 "And by-and-bye your indifference to circumstances 
 will lead to a hardening process against friends, until it 
 may be you will, to use your own expressive language, be 
 able to ' crush them out of your heart altogether ' " 
 
 . " Do, dear, me ! I never heard such riddles as you, 
 Mary and William are reading me. I do not understand a 
 word you say, nor what either of you can find to smile at. 
 For my part, I feel more like crying, and I shall cry, I 
 know I shall. What a ridiculous idea ! Here you, Wil 
 liam, are to be gone from us, there is no telling how many 
 years, over the ocean, too, ever so far; and we two girls 
 left all alone ^no relations, but those who never have a 
 thought for us ; and we among perfect strangers, and ye t 
 with a shake of the hand, a smile and a kiss a very gen 
 tle one I suppose we are to part ! " 
 
 " And he has not told us either, Julia, which was to be 
 first, the smile or the kiss." 
 
 Without noticing the remark of the elder sister, the 
 brother asked : 
 
 " What sort of a conveyance has the young gentle 
 man ? " 
 
 " Oh, a very nice one indeed ; a neat wagon with two 
 seats, and a splendid pair of horses ; no top, however." 
 
 " If I knew that I could conveniently get on board the 
 steamboat to-morrow evening, I should be tempted to go 
 up there with you, and trouble you another day with my 
 company." 
 
 "Oh, do, do, dear William," exclaimed both sisters at 
 once, " we shall be so happy ! We shall then have one 
 good, whole, quiet day with you ; this has been so confus 
 ed and broken up." 
 
 It was not far they had to walk, and the young man 
 who was standing on the steps of the house, as they drew 
 near, advanced to meet them. 
 
 ^ Herbert relinquished the arms of his sisters, and gave 
 his hand to the young man, at the same time introducing 
 his sisters to their future host.
 
 LOOKIXG * ABOUND. 165 
 
 The young man made his obeisance with an ease of 
 manner that took the ladies by surprise at least, the el 
 der of the two, who had not seen him. His appearance 
 was as unexpected as his deportment. There was noth 
 ing of the rough farmer about him. He was of good size, 
 well formed, a good countenance, with a thoughtful cast, 
 but when lighted with a smile, almost brilliant his dress, 
 that which any gentleman might with propriety wear in 
 the country : nothing new or fashionable, or stiff, well fit 
 ted to his person and adapted to the profession he follow 
 ed not too fine to fear contact with whatever he wished 
 to handle, nor so coarse as to be unsightly. 
 
 " I have three questions to put to you, Mr. Bradford, 
 the answers to which may vary my plans a little for the 
 next twenty-four hours. The first is : 
 
 " Is there any way by which from your house, I can get 
 on board the steamboat from Albany to-morrow eve 
 ning?" 
 
 " There is a lauding, sir, not far from my house ; it be 
 longs to Mr Roland, but is generally used by all in our 
 vicinity. By holding up a light, the steamboat sends out 
 a boat." 
 
 " Can you accommodate me with lodgings to-night, with 
 out inconvenience ? " 
 
 " Not only, sir, without inconvenience, but with a great 
 deal of pleasure." 
 
 " Have you a seat for me in your wagon ? " 
 
 " The seat I occupy is designed for two." 
 
 " Then that matter is settled. Now girls, for your bag 
 gage." 
 
 With joyful haste the sisters gathered their lighter ar 
 ticles, while the two young men lifted out the trunks. It 
 required but a few moments to arrange all matters, settle 
 tavern bills, etc., and they were off.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Roland's landing was a very unpretending place indeed, 
 and from the middle of the river could not be distinguish 
 ed from the rocks and bushes which lined the eastern 
 shore. On nearing it, however, you perceive that a slight 
 attempt at a dock has been made, by fastening a piece of 
 heavy timber to a shelving rock that projects a few feet 
 into the water. This piece of timber is no doubt fasten 
 ed by clamps drilled into the rock, and with the plank be 
 fore it, foi'm an abutment convenient for a small boat to 
 haul up to, or even for a sloop, if necessary. Planks are 
 laid lengthwise from this piece of timber, to which they 
 are fastened, and afford pleasant and sure footing for those 
 who may have landed. To one at but a few roods from 
 it, it seems a landing at the foot of an inaccessible steep, 
 but to those on the dock a road is visible, and by follow 
 ing it, one finds an easy, though winding way, through a 
 valley, or more properly a ravine, and very soon a level 
 spot is spread out, and through clumps of noble trees and 
 a lawn well kept and of a rich green if in the summer 
 months you come very soon to a red brick mansion. 
 The mansion has nothing particularly noticeable, in the 
 way of architecture. It is large and well proportioned, 
 with a wing on one side, a broad piazza fronting the river, 
 a back building attached to the rear, and out houses ex 
 tending beyond that, and a very large collection of barns 
 and stables. No one could doubt, from the first glance, 
 that it must be a very large estate, whose products could 
 fill the premises appropriated for them. 
 
 This homestead, with the domain attached, was known 
 throughout that region, and in fact by most persons who 
 traveled along that beautiful river, as " the Roland place." 
 A large number of acres of arable land, as well as a much 
 larger number of acres of mountain woods, were attached 
 to it. The dwelling could not be seen except from certain
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 167 
 
 positions on the river ; a ridge of land, or more properly 
 of rock, thickly studded with cedars, concealed the dwell 
 ing from any who might be looking for one, while imme 
 diately opposite upon the river, but views could be had 
 by those who knew its locality, from two or three different 
 openings above and below. 
 
 The house had been built before the Revolution, and 
 its owner having taken a decided stand in favor of royal 
 ty, the estate was confiscated and sold. Thomas Roland, 
 the grandfather of the present occupant, became the pur 
 chaser. He had held a major's commission in our army, 
 and had particularly distinguished himself at the battle 
 of White Plains. 
 
 The present inheritor was, as yet, quite a young man 
 not much over twenty-five. He had been through col 
 lege, but had taken no profession ; his father dying soon 
 after he graduated, so much being thrown upon his hands, 
 his mind was diverted from any calling but that of manag 
 ing his farm, and attending to his houses and lots in the 
 city. 
 
 A few years before his father's death, his mother had de 
 ceased, and an aunt of his, the only sister of his father, 
 had been placed at the head of the house, and with her 
 daughter, a young lady of eighteen, and young Roland, 
 constituted now the total of the family proper, quite a 
 number of domestics, however, must be added, as the 
 house was large, and the same style of living was kept up 
 by the present proprietor, as formerly. 
 
 The father of Donald Roland, the present owner, was 
 by no means a popular man among his neighbors; he 
 was in general overbearing, where he had any power to be 
 so, although there were exceptional cases, where, if his 
 fancy pleased and it seemed to be an impulse of fancy 
 rather than from kindness of heart he would be quite 
 liberal. He was a member of the church, a Presbyterian 
 of the straitest sort of Calvinist ; a great stickler for or 
 thodoxy, and to all appearance possessing but little claim 
 besides, to the character of a Christian. Probably this 
 peculiarity may have had an influence in molding the 
 views of his son and only child ; for when Donald came 
 to years of discretion, and especially after the death of
 
 LOOKING AKOUKD. 
 
 his father, he manifested an indifference to religion, very 
 seldom attended religious service, and whenever question 
 ed on the subject, gare such answers as led to the belief 
 that he had very little faith in what is called revelation. 
 With this exception, he was one _whom all loved. He 
 was of a most kind and obliging disposition ; liberal in all 
 his dealings, and without any hauteur of manner, so nat 
 ural to one who had large possessions, and many depend 
 ents. Not indolent, nor without a certain care over his 
 business matters, and yet so unsuspicious and ready to 
 credit the assertions of those with whom he dealt, that 
 some did not hesitate to say, " if Donald Roland did not 
 yet become a poor man, it would be more from good luck, 
 than careful management." 
 
 The very reverse of Donald in such matters, was the 
 lady, at the head of his establishment. She was a pru 
 dent, managing woman, careful to be sui-e that nothing 
 was wasted in the house, and so far doing for the interest 
 of her nephew ; but beneath all her manifestations of care 
 for him, lay a substratum of pure, self-seeking for herself 
 and those belonging to her. 
 
 She had three children the daughter already alluded 
 to, and two sons who, having been inmates with Donald 
 for some years, and those at the period of youth, may be 
 said to have been brought up with him. One of these 
 sons was a farmer. He took for a certain rental, to be 
 paid in kind, one of the portions of the estate which had 
 been formerly the most productive for the same number 
 of acres. The other son did business in the city of New 
 York, and was reputed to be making money. He was a 
 lively, sociable, jovial sort of person one who would be 
 very likely to inspire confidence in his integrity, if not iff 
 his capacity for business. There were several old ser 
 vants about the establishment, who seemed as much fix 
 tures, as the stone barns themselves. They were not now 
 in the main very serviceable, but Donald Roland would no 
 more have thought of parting with them than he would 
 of pulling down the old substantial house and putting up 
 a new and fashionable one ; in fact, he looked upon the 
 whole concern, in doors and out, as fixtures to be used by 
 him as long as he should need them, and then to go, he
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 169 
 
 knew not to whom, nor does he give a single thought 
 about the matter. He is young, just beginning life, with 
 every thing ready made to his hand, and enough for all 
 reasonable expenses. 
 
 Young Roland, although surrounded with many advan 
 tages for the enjoyment of life, was not, after all, happy. 
 The beautiful scenery which surrounded him he had al 
 ways been accustomed to see. Born and brought up in 
 the midst of it it had nothing new to present. His 
 independent circumstances,'for the same, reason inspired no 
 gratitude he had never known any other condition. 
 The fact of his being master of his own actions, and his 
 large income, made no change in his habits. He had no 
 taste for dissipation of any kind, nor was he fond of soci 
 ety. All that called upon him were cordially received, 
 and made welcome by a generous hospitality. He had, 
 however, a very strong attachment to his home, and to 
 his home as he had always known it. Some, with his 
 means, would have been- very likely to have modernized 
 the old building, or have made additions ; but to Donald 
 the structure, with all its surroundings, were sacred. Re 
 pairs were of course occasionally required ; they must 
 however be homogenous with the old architecture ; if 
 new fences were needed, they must be an exact pattern 
 of those which had gone to decay. New paint might 
 be laid upon the bricks, but it must be red and not even 
 penciled with white, as some advised, to give it a more 
 lively appearance. The old, curiously wrought ornaments 
 that surmounted the front door, and the heavy mouldings 
 that projected from the eaves of the roof, must have the 
 same coat of cream color they had sh6wn for a hundred 
 years. 
 
 Within the house, likewise, he was resolute in keeping 
 the old fashioned furniture, much to the chagrin of his 
 aunt, the present mistress of his mansion ; in all other 
 matters she might do as she pleased, and he never inter 
 fered, but no modern chairs, or settees, or tables, or look 
 ing glasses, were allowed to usurp the places of those his 
 progenitors had used. The long mantle glass with its 
 frame of glass, he had always seen, and the solid side 
 board with its silver trays and tankards, and those leath- 
 8
 
 170 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 ern bottom, high back chairs were to him as old friends, 
 and he would not part with them. 
 
 Two rooms in the house were, however, more particu 
 larly attractive to him. They were in the second story, 
 on the south side of the great hall ; they opened into each 
 other one occupied as his sleeping apartment, and the 
 other as a library or sitting-room. In these two rooms he 
 may be said to have lived, they were, in fact, his home of 
 homes. In his library were two large glass cases ; one 
 containing the books which had been gathered by his 
 father and grandfather, and to which no additions were 
 allowed ; the other contained those which he himself was 
 collecting, and was already well stored, with room enough 
 however, for all that would be needed for some years to 
 come, that is, if he purchased only what he wished to 
 read. 
 
 On some accounts the life which young Roland led, 
 might be one of comfort and ease not much indeed 
 that was exciting, but free from care, perfect leisure, intel 
 lectual entertainment in abundance, so far as it could be 
 derived from books, and every luxury that his taste de 
 manded. No one to disturb his quiet when ensconced in 
 his easy chair, in his little sanctum, where he had collected 
 some rare and costly pictures and works of art, and for 
 exercise, a fine stud of horses at his command. He was 
 an excellent horseman, and he took delight in mounting, 
 at times, some of the more spirited of his beasts ; he could 
 soon tame them to his will. His favorite, however, was a 
 splendid hunter, imported from England ; a horse perfect 
 in all his points, docile as a dog and fleet as a deer fear 
 less of either sight or sound ; with the bridle lying on his 
 neck, his master could fire his double barrelled gun from 
 his back and scarcely an ear would be moved. Perhaps 
 Trim had as large a share of his master's regard as all the 
 rest of the world together. 
 
 But in saying this, the reader must not assume that 
 Donald Roland was by any means a misanthrope. He 
 had a kind heart, and one that could be most intensely 
 aroused. Strong passions, too, were lying beneath an ap 
 parently unmovable superstratum, the fires might burst
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 171 
 
 forth at any moment, but the calm still surface gave no " 
 token of their existence. 
 
 But one subject of annoyance has as yet crossed his 
 path. It was not a very serious matter after all, and yet 
 as it was an every day affair, and one that met him in "his 
 own home, and from which he could not very well rid him 
 self it was something more than a vexation. His aunt 
 as has been said, was a designing woman, and was endow 
 ed with a good share of tact, or management. She had 
 procured good berths for her two sons, but the chief aim 
 of her life, was, if possible, to get a berth for Cornelia, 
 her promising daughter, not but the young lady might 
 have had offers enough if she had been allowed to mingle 
 in general society, for she had a very pretty face, even 
 handsome, and a genteel form ; she had some education, 
 too, and a few accomplishments ; a few of the simple 
 tunes she could play on the piano, and some few she could 
 in her way, accompany with her voice. It was what few 
 of the farmers' daughters in general could do in that day, 
 and it pleased such as were no great amateurs and 
 there is no doubt if Miss Cornelia had given them an op 
 portunity, more than one of the young farmers might 
 have been quite ready to make her suitable offers but 
 Miss Cornelia had been taught to look for higher things. 
 " It would be such a snug concern and all in the family 
 so," that she should be installed mistress of Roland place, 
 and for a while every thing seemed to work favorably for 
 such a result until it came to be considered a settled mat 
 ter by those in the vicinity who felt interested in such af 
 fairs, that Cornelia Peabody was to marry her cousin Don 
 ald, or he was to marry her, and the estate kept in the 
 family. 
 
 Donald had indeed given no special occasion for such 
 conclusions on the part of the young lady herself. He 
 had indeed been kind, and in a certain way attentive to . 
 her ; sometimes she wished to walk through the woods, \ 
 and Donald would accompany her, or she wished to ride j- 
 on horseback and he did what he could to teach her al- i 
 though that was no easy task she was too timid ever to 
 make a decent rider. She was at times, too, " very desir 
 ous for improvement," such spells however, did not last
 
 172 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 long, but he was rather glad to find that she had a desire 
 for knowledge, and of course placed books in her hand, 
 and occasionally entered into conversation concerning the 
 subject she had been reading ; in general, however, all she 
 could say about it, was "It was very interesting." 
 
 As there were in general few visitors, and the two young 
 persons were often thrown together, it was^but civil, and 
 very natural too, that a young man should under such cir 
 cumstances, make himself agreeable ; and Donald certain 
 ly did so. He had been perfectly unsuspicious that his at 
 tentions could possibly have been misunderstood by a lady 
 of common discernment, but when within the few last 
 weeks on occasion of saying good-bye to her, as he was 
 about to be absent a few days, he saw the tears drop 
 ping from her eyelids and the handkerchief applied to her 
 face to hide the deep emotion that was stirring up her 
 heart, a new light broke upon his vision all at once. 
 He must change his conduct, and lose no time in letting 
 her and all others interested in the case know, that it 
 would be quite agreeable to him that there should be no 
 tears, or heart-aches on his account, and he has been pon 
 dering the matter in his mind, while on board the sloop 
 on his way home, and has come to the conclusion that his 
 cousin must be even more weak-minded than he h*ad sup 
 posed, but in some way or other a stop must be put to all 
 such expectations. He had no feeling whatever towards 
 her, but that of good will nor ever could have. They 
 had no sympathy in common. She was not in the least 
 degree a realization of his ideal love and even that im 
 aginary idol was but faintly pictured to him yet in fact, 
 he had not loved, he had not even allowed himself the 
 luxury of a day dream on that subject ; his mind is not in 
 a happy state for such an expression. 
 
 On one important point, there was a cloud on the mind 
 of young Roland. As has been said, he was sceptical in 
 regard to Divine revelation. It was not an unbelief orig 
 inating in a "desire to disbelieve because the precepts of 
 the Bible would not allow him to follow his own sinful in 
 clinations ; he never found fault with the purity or strict 
 ness of its precepts, and one not on the most intimate re 
 lations with him might, from the correctness of his life,
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 173 
 
 have very naturally drawn the conclusion that it was reg 
 ulated by Scripture, or he had formed good habits from re 
 ligious training. It may not be too much to say, that he 
 did really wish to believe ; the cloud that was upon him 
 spoiled all his sources of enjoyment. Neither the beau 
 ties nor wonders of creation, nor the abundance of which 
 he was possessed, was a source of pleasure. Life to him 
 was an enigma, and a great mistake. 
 
 What had produced this darkness, it would be needless 
 to inquire ; perhaps he himself could not have told the 
 reason for his doubts, but they were none the less real, 
 and they cast their sombre shadow on even his most cheer 
 ful and pleasurable moments. 
 
 Perhaps this sketch has been particular enough, to give 
 the reader a little insight to the individual by way of in 
 troduction ; it only remains to give a slight description of 
 his personal appearance. He came of a portly race ; both 
 his father and grandfather were distinguished for fine fea 
 tures and manly proportions, and gained flesh as they ad 
 vanced toward the later period of life, retaining to the last 
 a fresh and cheei-ful countenance. There was nothing in 
 Donald's countenance so marked, as to distinguish him 
 among a crowd. He was good looking, his features well 
 set ; his hair raven black, and his eye sparkling and bright. 
 His aspect in general sober and thoughtful, but when 
 pleasui-ably excited, a most winning smile would illumine 
 his features. His voice full and deep toned, and a set of 
 teeth of the most perfect form, and apparently indestruc 
 tible. He was of full stature, well proportioned, graceful 
 in movement, and with all that ease of manner which dis 
 tinguishes those who have been trained to it from their 
 earliest days. 
 
 It will be remembered that Mr. and Mrs. Sandford had 
 accepted the invitation given them by the young gentle 
 man with whom they had become accidentally acquainted 
 on board the sloop, to stop at his landing, as it would be 
 so much nearer their place of future residence. It was 
 just at the breaking of day that the sloop neared the lit 
 tle whar and the party intending to stop there were mus 
 tering on deck, ready to step on shore the moment the 
 vessel should reach the dock.
 
 174 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " How I do hate to part with you," said Eva, as she em 
 braced Mrs. Sandford in saying good-bye. 
 
 " Why cannot you go with us, dear ? I know Mr. 
 Sandford will be able, in a few days, to take you to Mr. 
 Blanchard's, and we should have such nice times in get 
 ting things fixed." 
 
 " I should like it above all things, but it would be put 
 ting Mr. Sandford to too much trouble." 
 
 " What is that about giving me trouble ? " said Mr. 
 Sandford, as he came up to them. 
 
 " Will it, pa, be too much trouble for you in a few days, 
 after things get a little fixed, to drive Eva home to Mr. 
 Blanchard's ? I want her to land here with us." 
 
 "Trouble ! no. It will give me the greatest pleasure." 
 
 " But you have no horse yet, and may not be able to 
 get one." 
 
 " I will be responsible for that, miss," said Roland. 
 " The gentleman shall have as many at his command as 
 he may require for any such service ; and allow me most 
 cordially to extend the invitation I have given to this lady 
 and gentleman, so as to include youi-self ; you will con 
 fer a favor by accepting it." 
 
 " Well, if you all say so, I am willing. I thank you 
 very much, sir," turning to young Roland. 
 
 He bowed to her, and was about to say something fur 
 ther, but was interrupted by Mr. Blanchard, who came up 
 just then, with a scowl on his forehead, and apparently in 
 no very good humor. 
 
 " What does all this mean, Sandford ? we are not go 
 ing to land here ! " 
 
 " Some of us are, sir. This young gentleman, Mr. Ro 
 land, who owns this landing, has invited Mrs. Sandford 
 and family to stop here, as it is but a short ride to our 
 place, and we are going to throw ourselves upon his kind 
 offer to have us conveyed to our home." 
 
 " And we are going, Mr. Blanchard, to take Eva with 
 us." 
 
 " What is that for ? " 
 
 " Oh, just for the fun of it ; it will be so pleasant for us, 
 and she would like it too. We will see her safe home to 
 you again."
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 175 
 
 " Oh, that will be giving a great deal of useless trouble 
 No, no, I do not think it best." 
 
 " But I do," said Eva, looking at Mr. Blanchard with a 
 pleasant smile on her countenance. 
 
 Mr. Blanchard was about to let out his feelings which 
 had become almost uncontrollable ; for many reasons he 
 was quite out of sorts. He was angry at the captain for 
 stopping the progress of his vessel to land passengers at 
 this out of the way place, but for prudential motives, he 
 kept in the worst of them ; yet some reply he must make 
 to Eva's short answer, and to do so he had to follow her 
 to another part of the vessel, for she had tripped across 
 the deck to where her old nurse was standing, and was 
 telling her of her purpose, and of what she wished done 
 about putting their rooms in readiness against her return. 
 
 " Eva," said Mr. Blanchard on coming up, " I am sur 
 prised at the answer you made just now, and before so 
 many people." 
 
 " Not more so, I presume, sir, than I was by your at 
 tempt to restrain my wishes." 
 
 " Who else is there to do it, if I do not." 
 
 "No one I hope, but ray own judgment." 
 
 " A pretty restraint that would be." 
 
 M As much as I feel willing to submit to at present." 
 
 " I do not think it proper you should go with those peo 
 ple, and I shall not consent to it." 
 
 Aunt Lizzy now whispered in her ear. 
 
 " Do, darling, for the goodness sake, don't speak so, you 
 will be making trouble." 
 
 Eva, hoAvever, had been thinking very hard most of the 
 night. She had, as never before, examined things in refer 
 ence to her situation for some time past, and the conclu 
 sion she had come to was, that she had passed from a state 
 of childhood, and ought not to be treated as such. She 
 was now past eighteen, and could see no propriety in be 
 ing called to account for every turn she wished to make. 
 She had submitted to it during the life of Mrs. Blanchard, 
 but the watch which had been held over her of late, had 
 become offensive, as had the peculiar treatment of Mr. 
 Blanchard. His obsequious attentions for a few months 
 past, were more disagreeable than all the indifference with
 
 fr ; ' . 
 
 176 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 which Mrs. Blanchard had treated her. She now deter 
 mined to have the matter well understood at least, be 
 tween Mr. Blanchard and herself. She had passed over 
 his abrupt refusal with a determined reply indeed, but 
 with a pleasant manner, but since he has made such seri 
 ous work of it, she put on a serious air likewise. She did 
 not think a reply to his last remark necessary, so request 
 ing Aunt Lizzy to bring her shawl and reticule from the 
 cabin, she at once resumed her place by the side of Mrs. 
 Sandford. 
 
 The determined manner of Eva completely disconcert 
 ed her guardian. He could do nothing further by way of 
 enforcing authority, without exposing himself to ridicule 
 or insult, for he felt assured all would take her part. His 
 resentment then turned upon the captain. He could do 
 nothing now, but once ashore he believed he knew what 
 string to pull that would make this " fellow " smart for it. 
 
 It did indeed take more time to get alongside and all 
 on shore, than one could have supposed, for they lost the 
 current of the wind, and it was found necessary at length 
 to use the great sweeps. All this took time, and the sun 
 was throwing his rays on the summit of the western 
 mountains as the little party stepped upon the deck. 
 
 Now all this may seem hardly worth the trouble of 
 narrating, but great events are sometimes hinged on tri 
 fling circumstances, and some very important consequen 
 ces to several of those who have just landed on that lit 
 tle dock, will be seen to follow this movement, and even 
 to shape their destiny for life, and of some too, who did 
 not land. 
 
 It was no little surprise to the company that followed 
 young Roland up the winding path when they reached 
 the plateau above, on which stood the noble mansion with 
 its beautiful lawn and majestic shades. 
 
 " What a beauty spot ! " exclaimed Mrs. Sandford, each 
 of the company assenting in terms of unqualified delight. 
 
 "What a pity the house cannot be seen from the river." 
 
 "It can, my dear," said Mr. Sandford, "from several 
 points, but not immediately opposite. I suspect the place 
 is somewhat like its owner a good deal of substantial 
 worth without much desire for notoriety."
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 177 
 
 This remark could not have been heard by the gentle 
 man himself, as he walked somewhat in advance, leading 
 in his hand the little boy of Mr. Sandford, who had be 
 came quite intimate with him, since the present of the 
 knife. 
 
 As they ascended the steps, and stood upon the extend 
 ed and roomy piazza, Mrs. Sandford could not help saying 
 to her host : 
 
 " Oh, I could live on this porch ! I should not care for 
 anything more of a house." 
 
 " Perhaps in cold weather, madam, you would like walls 
 to it." 
 
 "That, indeed! but I am only thinking of summer, 
 now." 
 
 But the hall was wider than the porch, and the large 
 parlor into which they were immediately led, with its 
 heavy wooden cornice, and its deep embrasures and cush 
 ioned seat under each window, and the deeply moulded 
 panneling that covered the walls, and the old fashioned, 
 rich furniture, was a still further source of admiration. 
 
 In a few moments a lady entered, accompanied by the 
 master of the house, whom the latter introduced as his 
 aunt, Mrs. Peabody." 
 
 "And now, aunt, if you will please to order breakfast 
 as soon as it can be had, I know it will be agreeable to us 
 all I am sure it will to me." 
 
 " Oh, but my dear sir," said Mrs. Sandford, " that was 
 not in the agreement ! " 
 
 " It was not so written down, I know, but it was so un 
 derstood by me, I assure you, madam ; country hospitali 
 ty, you must know, always includes 'breaking bread to 
 gether,' and I promise myself the pleasure, if it should be 
 agreeable to you, of returning the compliment perhaps 
 quite as often as you may wish." 
 
 " Well, sir, on these conditions, I for one am certainly 
 willing to accede to your proposals ; but believe me we had 
 no idea of putting you to such trouble." 
 
 While the anticipated meal was in preparation, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Sandford, and Eva, seated themselves upon the pi 
 azza, admiring not only the immediate premises, but the 
 fine view in the openings to the river, and the mountains 
 *8
 
 178 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 behind threw up their massive heads as far as they could 
 see. 
 
 "It seems to me, dear husband, that such surroundings 
 as this young man has, must tend to purify and ennoble the 
 mind." 
 
 " One would naturally think so, but all do not admire 
 nature as you do." 
 
 " But," said Eva, " do you not think that a person may 
 be affected by the scenes of nature unconsciously ? Now, 
 there is something about this gentleman that seem to me 
 in keeping with his ' surroundings,' as Mrs. Sandford calls 
 them. His ease of manner, his unpretending politeness, 
 his freedom from all that stiffness, both in dress and be 
 havior, which so often we see in the city ; may not all 
 this have been acquired by living amid the graces of na 
 ture ? " 
 
 " And yet," said Mr. Sandford, " are not farmers in gen 
 eral, Miss Stanley, thought to be clownish ? " 
 
 " There are, no doubt, many persons of rude manners 
 to be found in the country, but I have noticed, even among 
 those who work hard on their own land, a certain ease of 
 manner, and quiet, unpretending politeness, that has been 
 quite as pleasing to me, as the more formal and conven 
 tional manners of the city. No, I do not believe, that in 
 general, country people are clownish." 
 
 Young Roland now came up to them ; he had been giv 
 ing some directions to his coachman. 
 
 " You perceive," said Mrs. Sandford, "that we are admir 
 ers of nature. We cannot get our fill of the luxuries 
 around us." 
 
 " I hope, madam, since you are as you say, * about to be 
 come an inhabitant of the country,' that your enjoyment 
 of its beauties may not be marred by circumstances. I 
 presume our pleasure from such sources, depends much 
 more upon other things, than the aspect of nature herself, 
 even to those who may be her lovers." 
 
 " No doubt that is true. 'It is content of heai't gives 
 nature power to please." 
 
 He immediately replied : 
 
 " To some, ' a dreary wild at best, in spite of its gor 
 geous array.' "
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 179 
 
 Mrs. Sandford looked at the gentleman as he quoted 
 this line, and was struck with the peculiar expression of 
 sadness that, for the moment, settled upon his counte 
 nance, and with woman's quickness drew the conclusion 
 that there was some canker at the bud ; a slight sigh, too, 
 escaped his lips. At once a deep interest was aroused in 
 her heart. She wished to gain his confidence, to probe 
 the wound, and help remove the cause of suffering, what 
 ever it might be. The shadow, however, passed quickly 
 away, for he turned to Mr. Sandford, and with a smile, 
 said : 
 
 "Men, I believe, have so much to do with the realities 
 of life either in subduing nature to their use, or what 
 is harder still, contending against the elements of selfish 
 ness, of which the world is full, or baffling unpropitious 
 fates that they have not much feeling left for the poet 
 ry of nature." 
 
 " You think it is all prose with them ? " said Mr. Sand- 
 ford. 
 
 " Pretty much so, sir." 
 
 " Well, I cannot say but I can sympathize a little in the 
 poetical view which you think the ladies take of nature, 
 but I have seen the time when I would have given more 
 to know where the means were to come from to meet my 
 engagements at bank, than for the most fascinating view 
 the combined beauties of nature could present. Now I 
 can enjoy whatever comes along. I have banished care, 
 that is, coiToding care, and my mind is at rest." 
 
 " That is saying a great deal, sir. I should like to get 
 your recipe ; perhaps as we are to be neighbors, you may 
 take the trouble at some time to give it me." 
 
 " I can give it to you Mr. Roland," said Mrs. Sandford, 
 laying her arm on her husband's shoulder, " he has a good 
 wife." 
 
 " I should think, madam, that may be an important ar 
 ticle in the recipe, and yet under some circumstances, I 
 could imagine that fact might only be a source of great 
 unrest but there is our bell," and offering his arm to 
 Mrs. Sandford, preceded the little company into the break 
 fast room. Miss Cornelia had not yet seen her cousin 
 Donald ; she was in the room, however, when the compa 
 ny entered."
 
 180 LOOKING AKOUND. 
 
 " Good-morning, cousin," said Roland, giving her his 
 hand, as they had not seen each other for the last fort 
 night, at the same time introducing her to the new circle. 
 The young lady was quite reserved, both at the time and 
 during the meal, whether from perceiving that she had 
 fallen into company that was a little more intelligent than 
 usual, or for some other reason Donald could not define. 
 She was, he knew, by no means bashful, and was in gene 
 ral quite talkative. He noticed, however, that she kept 
 her eye fixed on Miss Stanley, so far as she could do it, 
 with any kind of decency. The meal, with the exception 
 that the mistress of the table and her daughter were rath 
 er silent, was a very social one indeed, and when it was 
 finished, and as they were passing through the hall, Mrs. 
 Sandford remarked : 
 
 " I can now understand why it is, that you gentlemen 
 and ladies, who have your home in the country, have 
 adopted the idea that a visit is of no account, unless you 
 can as you have said, ' break bread together.' I feel as if 
 we were more intimately acquainted than we should have 
 been by any number of mei-e calls." 
 
 " That remark reminds me, madam, of an Eastern usage 
 in reference to guests, and that is, ' that any person who 
 has partaken of your salt, must, in person and character 
 be sacred to you.' " 
 
 " And what an admirable custom it is, why cannot we 
 adopt it ? " 
 
 I believe in general, madam, the effect of a social meal 
 is to awaken kind feelings for the time, but the evil is, that 
 we are such perverse creatures, and under such baneful 
 influences, that charity as well as other kindred virtues, 
 cannot abide with us. It may linger a few moments, like 
 the bubble on the broken stream, and then is gone." 
 
 " Oh, but you must not think quite so bad of humanity 
 as that ; you and I are too young to allow of such dark 
 views. Now, believe me, I was on the point of promising 
 in my own case to carry out the beautiful idea suggested 
 by that eastern custom you spoke of; only to think how 
 soon one would be absolutely shut out from not only slan 
 der, but ungenerous thoughts ! " 
 
 They had now reached the piazza again that is, the
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 181 
 
 two who were holding the conversation recorded above. 
 Eva had entered the parlor, and Mr. Sandford, with his 
 little son, were on the way to the garden. Mrs. Sandford 
 was becoming much interested in her host, and he in like 
 manner manifested a disposition to converse with her in 
 preference to others and thatwas, by no means to be 
 wondered at. They were apparently about the same age. 
 She was still in the bloom of life, with all its freshness 
 and buoyancy her beauty uninjured as yet by the cares 
 of life her mind elastic and well cultivated her tem 
 perament joyous and ready at all times to enter with spir 
 it into the duties or pleasures of the passing hour. Young 
 Roland had not been iised to just such society as that of 
 Mrs. Sandford. That in which he had occasionally mingled 
 was rather of a plain stamp, in which his mind could take 
 no interest, from the fact that there was nothing congenial 
 to it. He was not only now ready to do the honors of a 
 host, but to embrace every opportunity for familiar con 
 versation. As they stepped upon the piazza, Mrs. Sand- 
 ford remarked : 
 
 " I suppose there are people in the world, who would 
 value those majestic trees merely as so much cord wood." 
 
 "Doubtless, madam, but they would not have allowed 
 them to attain their present size, before they had laid the 
 ax to their roots ; they are rather too large now to be 
 handled with profit. After all, perhaps such people are 
 as wise as any ; they look upon the world as a utilitarian 
 concern altogether, and take some pleasure in making the 
 most of it. Their aspirations are for gain, and their hearts 
 are satisfied with the results." 
 
 " But what a wretched existence must that be." 
 
 " Perhaps not more so, than that of one who, gifted 
 with an intense imagination, throws the halo of poetry 
 around all he sees in the natural world, and finds at length 
 the brightness vanish and dark mists spreading the gloom 
 of reality over his fairy pictures, and groans out, ' all is 
 vanity and vexation of spirit.' " 
 
 " You describe one, who, although of poetical sympa 
 thies, has not had a mind properly balanced. He has not 
 viewed God in his handiwork ; the glory of the earth 
 and the heavens have not been to him an emanation of
 
 182 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 Divine wisdom and love. Our beautiful world without 
 God, must be sooner or later, to such as you remarked 
 this morning, ' a dreary wild at best.' As Mrs. Sandford 
 said this, she fixed her bright, blue eye full upon her com 
 panion ; his quailed before it, and that peculiar shade of 
 sadness marked his countenance ; he made no reply, and 
 feeling now well assured that from some cause she could 
 not fathom, the present subject was painful to him, deter 
 mined to follow it no further. After a few moments' si 
 lence, he said : 
 
 " I suppose according to agreement, I ought now to 
 be making preparations to see you to your new home, but 
 I have still a request to make in reference to that matter. 
 I understand from Mr. Sandford, that your servants have 
 gone on with the sloop, and of course will not be here un 
 til sometime in the course of the day; I propose, there 
 fore, that we take a ride to your place, and I, with my 
 man and Mr. Sandford, do what we can, under your di 
 rection of course, in putting things in order; then your 
 self and family return with me and spend the night. You 
 can scarcely be comfortable by one day's preparation, and 
 you see, we have abundance of room, and provender 
 enough." 
 
 " Oh, you are very kind. I suppose I ought to say 
 something about the trouble we should be giving you, but 
 I believe I already understand you well enough to know 
 that you would not have given the invitation, without tak 
 ing that into account, so I will say nothing on my own ac 
 count against the preparation. To me it would be very 
 pleasant, but smiling archly as she said it, ' you know I 
 have a husband.' " 
 
 " And I have no doubt his highest pleasure is to meet 
 your wishes." 
 
 " Ah, ha ! you must not be too sure that his judgment 
 and my wishes may coincide. He is fifteen years my sen 
 ior, and more than that, wiser than I, and withal not quite 
 so much influenced by feeling." 
 
 " In spite of these possible obstacles, I will venture a 
 good guess that if you authorize me to express your con 
 sent, I shall not find them insurmountable." 
 
 " I do," she playfully replied, " and more than that, will
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 183 
 
 be bold enough to say, I wish you success, so you see what 
 kind of a visitor you have got on hand." 
 
 " I hope by the time she loses that title, I may be per 
 mitted to give her a far better one. 
 
 "Thank you, I think I shall not have reason to be 
 ashamed of it." 
 
 " I hope so, but dare not make a guess as to that." 
 
 Roland immediately after giving directions for the car 
 riage to be in readiness, walked into the garden to seek 
 Mr. Sandford, and very soon the two gentlemen returned 
 to the house. Eva had now joined Mrs. Sandford, and 
 as the two gentlemen neared them, Mr. Sandford looked 
 at his wife, and gave her a meaning smile. She at once 
 answered to it : 
 
 " You know, dear, I am very easily persuaded." 
 
 " Yes, true, when your own mind is in favor of the 
 thing, but I must leave the whole matter to Miss Stanley 
 and yourself; I feel, I must say, very much like a passen 
 ger at present, or a boy in a holiday." 
 
 " I advise you, then, sir," said Roland, " to make the 
 most of it. I rather think when you come to get things 
 in full operation, you will find farming not much of a holi 
 day." 
 
 " You think not ! Well, I know it will be new business, 
 but my dear sir, there will be no notes to pay no devis 
 ing of ways and means no asking favors of bank direc 
 tors no fear of tightness in the money market, or of 
 Western notes any thing will be better than such bur 
 dens." 
 
 "True, but after all, farming has its peculiarities; a 
 man must have a good stock of patience to begin with." 
 
 " I can help him to that, Mr. Roland." 
 
 " I have no doubt, madam, that you will do all you can 
 that way, but if you are willing to receive the advice of 
 a friend, I would suggest that you do not be too liberal ; 
 you may find it quite convenient to have a small store on 
 hand for yourself." 
 
 " Oh, dear me ! I hope you do not mean to bring up 
 any bugbears to frighten folks. Why, I have in my mind 
 the most beautiful vision of green fields, and pure air and 
 sweet scents, and delicious shades and calm domestic
 
 . 
 184 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 quiet of sitting with ray husband beneath the shadows 
 of our own Mines, talking and reading, while the birds are 
 making sweet music for us." 
 
 " It is a pretty scene, Mrs. Sandford, and I think I should 
 like to make one of the party under those vines you speak 
 of, but perhaps a third person would spoil the charm." 
 
 "By no means, I assure you. You might point out 
 beauties which we did not see." 
 
 " I fear not, madam ; I rather think you would find me 
 too much like the man who would make cord wood of 
 those trees." 
 
 " Then I should forever renounce all pretensions to an 
 alyze character." 
 
 " And I, too," said Mr. Sandford. 
 
 Roland was about to reply, when the conversation was 
 interrupted by a messenger, who came to inform him that 
 that a gentleman on horseback, was at the gate near the 
 barn, and would be glad to see him. 
 
 " There is something about that young man," said Mr. 
 Sandford, after Roland had got out of hearing, " that I 
 admire very much ; what say you, Miss Eva ? " 
 
 " Oh, I do not feel quite at liberty to give an opinion 
 of young gentlemen. You know I am under guardian 
 and teachers." 
 
 " I hope you will not be long under the one you now 
 have. Well, I dare give my opinion, even in presence of 
 my husband ; I think him one of the most agreeable gen 
 tlemen I have met with for a great while, but, dear hus 
 band, depend upon it, there is some cause of sorrow at his 
 heart. Do you not notice how his features settle into 
 melancholy shadow, when not in conversation, and even 
 sometimes then. How I should like to know what it is, 
 but here he comes, and another gentleman with him," and 
 turning to Eva, " why, my dear, it is Mr. Herbert ! " 
 
 Mrs. Sandford saw, however, that Eva had discovered 
 ihat fact already, for she was very pale and seemed much 
 agitated. As young Roland led the gentleman up to the 
 little group, his face assumed a brighter aspect than they 
 had before seen it wear. 
 
 " You see, my friends, that our little episode of the 
 storm on our voyage, is like to turn out much to our ad-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 185 
 
 vantage ; it has made us acquainted with some new neigh 
 bors." 
 
 " What," replied Mrs. Sandford, as she gave her hand to 
 Herbert, " are you and your sisters to be in this vicinity ? " 
 
 " Not more than two miles from here that is, as re 
 gards my sisters my stay here will be only a few hours." 
 
 " And but a stone's throw from your house, Mrs. Sand- 
 ford," said Roland. 
 
 " How very glad I am ; who knows what that storm 
 was sent for ! If you had not been taken up by us and 
 if I had not taken that sail, or rather row with you, I 
 should not have known anything about you, and now I 
 feel as if you and your sisters are old acquaintances ; how 
 very pleasant it will be." 
 
 " I assure you, madam, it is highly pleasing to me, as 
 my sisters will be alone that is, away from those with 
 whom they have been on terms of intimacy. I feel it 
 will be a great thing for them if they can have the privi 
 lege of your society. They are known only to the fami 
 ly of Mr. Ransom." 
 
 " And I shall esteem it a great privilege, I can assure 
 you to have theirs, for do you not know, I have fallen in 
 love with that elder one, and now Eva, if we could have 
 you with us, what a happy little company we should make. 
 But I thought, Mr. Herbert, you were to have returned 
 to the city last evening." 
 
 " That had been my intention, madam, but as I learned 
 there was a private landing in this vicinity, from which I 
 could get on board the steamboat, I concluded to spend 
 one day longer and see my sisters settled." 
 
 " Then you go down this evening ? " 
 
 " That is, if Mr. Roland, who I understands owns the 
 landing, will not object to my using it," at the same time 
 turning with a smile to that gentleman. 
 
 " I am too happy, Herbert, if it can be of any service 
 to you, and will order the light there in time to arrest the 
 notice of the boat." 
 
 " You are very kind, I thank you. Mr. Bradford spoke 
 of taking a light with us." 
 
 " Not the least occasion for it. . I have one expressly 
 for the purpose, and as I see my carriage is coming to con-
 
 186 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 vey our friends here, we will go to the barn and attend to 
 that business. Please excuse us ladies, for a few mo 
 ments." 
 
 " Certainly, and shall we be getting ready ? " 
 
 " If you please." 
 
 When the two young men entered the stables, Roland 
 remarked : 
 
 " To tell you the truth, Herbert, I do not wish to part 
 with either of these horses, although I have scarcely any 
 use for them ; they are both ladies' horses, one of them, 
 perhaps, the most perfect creature for that purpose, that 
 can be found within a hundred miles circuit, as docile as 
 a lamb, and with the agility of a deer no timidity, and 
 very fond of being caressed. Is your sister accustomed 
 to a horse ? " 
 
 " Quite so ; she is perfectly fearless, and a good rider." 
 
 " I know it will be very difficult for you to procure any 
 thing around here suitable for a lady to ride, and no 
 doubt Bradford knew that when he directed you here. I 
 tell you what I will do ; I cannot think of selling the 
 horse the fact is, my horses are my pets you see I 
 have nothing else to love." 
 
 " Then all stories I hear, are not true ? " 
 
 " What stories ? " and he looked at his visitor with 
 much meaning. 
 
 " Oh, pardon me, it was rather presuming in me to have 
 taken such a liberty. Please excuse me, Roland, I was off 
 my guard thrown off by your playful remark, in refer 
 ence to your horses." 
 
 " I assure you, my dear fellow, I take no offence at it, 
 but you have doubtless heard something that is of conse 
 quence to me to know, and as you and I are old friends, 
 if you have heard, in any way, my name connected seri 
 ously with that of any lady, I ask you, as a particular fa 
 vor, to reveal it to me. Who told you is of no conse 
 quence, I do not by any means wish to know, but there 
 are reasons in my case which I could easily explain if I 
 had time, why, I wish to know the substance of the report 
 you have heard." 
 
 " It was simply this, Roland ; that it was a general ru 
 mor that you were engaged to be married."
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 187 
 
 " And to whom ? " 
 
 " Well, I paid some little attention to the matter I 
 had a little curiosity to know who the lady was it was 
 to a cousin." 
 
 Young Roland took his hand. 
 
 " I thank you most cordially for your frankness ; what 
 you have said is of more importance to me than you can 
 well imagine. I have had some suspicion that there might 
 be such a rumor, I shall now be on my guard. In gene 
 ral, we young men have no objections to such reports 
 but only when they happen to have truth on their side. 
 If it should be in your way to contradict such report, it 
 will oblige me to have you do so, and you may give your 
 authority." 
 
 " I will certainly." ' 
 
 " And now, Herbert, as I said, I do not wish to sell this 
 horse, but having no present use for him, it will give me 
 pleasure to know that somebody has enjoyment from him, 
 and as your sister is used to riding, and as you say is fear 
 less, I will gladly loan him as long as she may need his 
 services. Whom can you get to take care of him for 
 her?" 
 
 " Mr. Bradford said if I could procure a horse, he would 
 himself see to that." 
 
 "That will do; Bradford is a fine fellow fond of 
 horses, and knows how to take care of them ; then if you 
 are willing to accept my proposition, the horse is at your 
 service." 
 
 " I hardly know how to answer you, except by thank 
 ing you most heartily for your generous offer. I am quite 
 willing to pay a liberal price for the horse, but as you feel 
 unable to release your claim from your pet, I must either 
 take him on your own terms, or relinquish the hope of 
 
 f-atifying my sister. I will at once, when I reach New 
 ork, send up proper equipments." 
 
 " By no means. I have them all made on purpose 
 a perfect fit and but little used ; in fact, I should prefer 
 them to be used in preference to new ones ; they might 
 not be exactly suited, and would make him restive, and as 
 your sister may feel better pleased to think she was using
 
 188 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 her own horse and accoutrements, you need not let her 
 know they are not her own." 
 
 " She ought to know, however, the obligation she is un 
 der." 
 
 " By no means necessary, and indeed, upon further re 
 flection, I should prefer that she did not know the precise 
 terms of our bargain, nor any one else beside ourselves, 
 only that under no circumstances must he be sold ; that 
 when she had no further use for him, he is to be returned 
 to me, and I to settle with you on your return." 
 
 The hostler was now summoned to equip Tommy, and 
 the beautiful creatui'e pawed and neighed and seemed de 
 lighted at the prospect of a frolic in the open air. He 
 was a pure white with here and there a spot a little shad 
 ed with brown, thin mane, a little curled, and light tail, 
 his neck finely arched, with a bright eye, and a coun 
 tenance denoting sprightliness and docility. 
 
 " I do not wonder that you should be unwilling to lose 
 your claim to this animal," said Herbert, " I feel as if I 
 could love him myself. I hardly know how to express my 
 obligations for your generous kindness." 
 
 " The truth is, Herbert, I am so much alone, and few 
 persons around here to associate with, I feel anxious to 
 do what I can to encourage any who come into our neigh 
 borhood, and make their stay as pleasant as possible. I 
 am anticipating much pleasure in the acquaintance I have 
 made in the family of Mr. Sandford, and that reminds me 
 that they may be waiting for me. Do you return imme 
 diately ? if so, I will accompany you, as I shall ride on 
 horseback. I will just put this bridle over the pommel, 
 and the horse will follow us." 
 
 " Shall I not lead him ? " 
 
 "By no means, he will follow and come at a call just 
 like a dog. Come Tom," and giving a slight whistle, the 
 horse immediately walked after the two gentlemen. 
 
 " Oh, what a beauty ! " exclaimed Mrs. Sandford, " who 
 is to ride that ? " 
 
 "Mr. Herbert must answer that question, but I have no 
 doubt, Mrs. Sandford, if you wish, he will have no objec 
 tions to your backing him." 
 
 " You have my hearty consent, I assure you madam."
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 189 
 
 " Papa, what do you say ? " 
 
 "I have nothing to say at all ; you would not have* me 
 disappoint two gentleman whom I perceive are to be 
 mounted, and you in the bargain." 
 
 What a dear, good soul you are, but just to think what 
 a miserable, selfish being I am ! Eva, dear, Eva, where 
 are you ? " The young lady hearing her name called, im 
 mediately came from the adjoining room whither she had 
 retired on seeing the gentlemen approach the house. 
 
 " Eva, dear, would you not enjoy a ride on horseback ? 
 Here is that beautiful creature all in readiness ; come, do, 
 I know both gentlemen will be delighted." 
 
 " Are you not going to your home ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, but it seems that Mr. Herbert and Mr. Roland 
 are on horseback, and this lady's horse, I presume the for 
 mer has been purchasing for his sister, and they are going 
 our way ; ypu will -enjoy it, I know you will." 
 
 " Have I been invited ? " 
 
 "They invited me merely because I happened to be 
 present, but you may well suppose they would much \Jte- 
 fer your company." 
 
 " If thei*e is room for me in the carriage, I should choose 
 to go in that if you are willing." 
 
 This conversation was carried on at too great a dis 
 tance to be heard by either gentlemen. As Mrs. Sandford 
 felt sure that Eva's choice was to go in the carriage, she 
 was at once in readiness to mount, and the little party 
 was soon on its way. 
 
 Mrs. Sandford had not as yet seen the place which was 
 to be her future home. It had been described to her as 
 correctly as could well be done by words, and yet when 
 Mr. Roland turned his horse up to the gate, and the little 
 cavalcade stopped, she could not help exclaiming : 
 
 " What a dear, good husband I have got ! he has select 
 ed the very place of all others I could have chosen." 
 
 " I thought, since I have had the pleasure of ascertain 
 ing a little how your taste runs, Mrs. Sandford, that you 
 would be much pleased, and sometimes I almost wonder 
 that those who erected the buildings on ray place had not 
 selected this location ; it is much more airy and pictur 
 esque."
 
 190 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " But does your land extend so far ? " 
 
 " That stone fence, madam, is the southern boundary of 
 my land, and the northern boundary of yours." 
 
 " And those beautiful woods are yours ! I must get 
 leave to have the piivilege of a ramble there. What 
 splendid oaks and chestnuts ! " 
 
 " I give you a carte blanche, madam, not only to those 
 but to the whole domain, to ramble by foot or horseback, 
 only asking in return the favor that you will sometimes 
 make a call upon its lonely owner." 
 
 "Not always to be lonely, I feel sure of that ; but de 
 pend upon it, there will be a path worn between our two 
 houses, if my influence has any power." 
 
 The carriage now drove up, and as its inmates alighted, 
 William Herbert stepped up, and had the pleasure of as 
 sisting Eva. He held for a moment the hand which she 
 had given him, and as they stepped a few paces on one 
 side to allow the others whom Mr. Sandford was assisting 
 to debouch, she said to him in a low voice, 
 
 " Can you allow me a private interview in some portion 
 of this day?" 
 
 If she was ever beautiful it was at that moment a 
 deep flush of rich blood gave life and luster to her coun 
 tenance. Her eye sparkled, and her lips trembled as she 
 replied, 
 
 " Certainly, at any time most convenient to yourself." 
 
 The ready consent took Herbert by sui-prise, and the 
 more so as his request seemed, from unmistakable signs, 
 to have deeply affected her. He replied, 
 
 " If I am here in the course of an hour, will you be 
 ready to accompany me in a short walk ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 More perplexed than before at this prompt reply, not 
 so much by the word of assent itself as by the manner 
 and the tone of voice he mounted his horse, and lead 
 ing the one Mrs. Sandford had ridden, departed for the 
 home of his sisters. 
 
 In much less than an hour he was back, and found Eva, 
 as she had promised, in readiness for their walk. 
 
 A short distance from Mr. Sandford's house a lane ran 
 off from the main road into the fine woods already alluded
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 191 
 
 to, and in a few moments they were entirely hidden from 
 observation. The surface of ground was in spots broken 
 by rocks through whose crevices in some unaccountable 
 way trees obtruded, and some of them of large size. 
 Where their roots obtained sustenance to support their 
 bulk, was equally unaccountable, but it must have been 
 far down beneath the incumbent masses. The rocks, how 
 ever, in spots, afforded pleasant seats, and he soon select 
 ed one for that purpose. 
 
 " This is a pleasure I have long desired," he said, as he 
 was placing a shawl upon the rock for the accommodation 
 of the lady. 
 
 "I believe I can honestly say the same thing, but I 
 have supposed it would not have been according to the 
 rules of propriety that I should have been forward in 
 seeking it. thave never, I believe, refused an interview 
 or shunned your presence." 
 
 ; No, Miss Eva." 
 
 ' I wish you to understand, William, that I have given 
 this opportunity to one with whom I have been on terms 
 of intimacy from childhood, and not to a gentleman who 
 feels it necessary to use terms of common place politeness. 
 If I am not Eva, and you William, our conference must 
 end at once." 
 
 " Pardon me, then. I did not know, for how could I, not 
 having seen you for more than three years, that I should 
 be allowed the old privilege, and that my old standing 
 could be resumed." 
 
 " It must be on that foundation, if any, for of late you 
 have not offered me the most distant chance to know in 
 what relation we stood to each other." 
 
 " You know why that has been." 
 
 " How could I know ! I know indeed, that my home, 
 where William Herbert was always welcomed with a sis 
 ter's joy, was broken up ; that I was cast among compar 
 ative strangers. Friends, to be sure they were called, but 
 in reality strangers to me strangers to my heart with 
 with no sympathies in common with selfish ends con 
 tinually manifesting themselves through all their show of 
 attention. Oh, how grateful it would have been to my 
 poor, lone heart, to have been able at times to let out its
 
 > n 
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 feelings to one who had once known almost every thought 
 that passed it, or every emotion that thrilled it." 
 
 " Oh, Eva, hear me. You almost distract me ; how 
 could I see you ? Would you have had me renounce all 
 my manliness, and venture into a family where I might 
 have been insulted ? " 
 
 " Insulted ! By whom ? " 
 
 " By Mr. Blanchard. He drove me by insult from the 
 position I held in your father's store and I may say 
 also from your home after your father's death ; and would 
 he not have indulged the same treatment, had I presumed 
 to enter his house ? " 
 
 " I know, William, you have a proud, sensitive spirit ; 
 it would not take much to arouse it and wound it, but had 
 the case been reversed, Eva Stanley would have braved 
 insult would have borne it rather than have allowed 
 William Herbert to feel that she had forgotten the past." 
 
 " You know, too, Eva, that for these three years past, I 
 have been in a foreign land." 
 
 " Not so far off but that letters could find their way to 
 friends at home." 
 
 " Did you never receive one from me ? " 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " On the eve of my departure I wrote you a long letter, 
 explaining the reasons why I had not called, and saying 
 in it all I could say to assure you of my friendship, and 
 of my readiness to aid you in any way I could, if you 
 would only let me know that you needed aid." 
 
 "Aid was not what I wanted, William, although I 
 thank you for the offer. I can take care for myself but 
 that letter I never received ; how did you send it ? " 
 
 " Through the post-office." 
 
 " You have been in the city some time, William, and 
 our meeting has been purely accidental. You have neither 
 sought for me, and I know not that you have ever inquir 
 ed for me. In a few days, as I understand, you are again 
 to sail for a foreign country." 
 
 " Oh, Eva, I wish you would let me tell you all my 
 heart all I have suffered but when you acquiesced in 
 my wish for a private interview, you did it in a way that 
 assured me you did not anticipate any thing beyond a
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 193 
 
 mere explanation by me of the cause why I have absent 
 ed myself from you, and I will not take advantage of 
 your kindness by urging a request that may be painful to 
 you." 
 
 " I suppose I ought not to understand what that request 
 means, but I tell you plainly, William, no such revelation 
 would now change our relation to each other. I am not a 
 poor, weak girl, or such a poor, weak girl as many may 
 suppose. What I have said in reference to our former in 
 timacy, we both understand is the reason, and the only 
 reason why this interview has been allowed ; and for that 
 same reason I have let you know that I once felt you to 
 be a very near friend. I have suffered much in being 
 obliged to conclude that the band was broken and the 
 past forgotten. Tell me frankly, William, is it not so ? 
 Have you not ti'ied to put my image out of your remem 
 brance, and all feeling you once had for me, away from 
 your heart ? " 
 
 William Herbert was confounded. He knew that she 
 spoke the truth ; he had endeavored, as he told his sister 1 , 
 to crush all interest in her out of his heart. He had not 
 that confidence in her love for him, that enabled him to 
 trust to its strength against all the influences which would 
 be brought to bear upon him. He knew that when he 
 parted from her she was but a girl, of strong feelings and 
 an impulsive nature. He was deeply interested in her, 
 and felt quite sure that she thought a great deal of him, 
 but three years had raised her into womanhood, and how 
 could he know that it had not changed all the course of 
 her feelings, especially towards him. That his interviews on 
 board the sloop had revived the scenes of the past, and 
 the feeling of the past, he was conscious, although he had 
 tried to make himself believe to the contrary. The pres 
 ent interview he had asked, without clearly defining to 
 himself what end he had in view ; most probably he 
 meant to probe her heart, and find out if he could, how 
 much Eva, the young lady, retained of Eva, the young 
 girl ; and possibly make a declaration of his attachment. 
 Her ready assent to his request the business manner 
 she assumed the frank avowal of her former friendship, 
 and made by her the basis of her consent to a conference 
 9
 
 194 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 all tended to debar him from proceeding a step beyond 
 the past. But the question she had now put to him must 
 be answered, and his only safe way is to tell the simple 
 truth. 
 
 " You have asked me a question, Eva, which I can an 
 swer only in one way. You are right ; I have endeavor 
 ed to forget the past, I have tried to put you out of my 
 mind but " 
 
 " That is enough, William," she quickly replied, " not 
 one word more, if you please ; we understand each other 
 now, and as I presume that was your object in wishing 
 this interview, let what has been said, suffice. When do 
 you sail ? " 
 
 " Probably in a week." 
 
 " You have been successful, I hope and are your 
 prospects good ? " 
 
 " I have indeed a fair prospect of independence." 
 
 "I shall hope to enjoy the society of your sisters, 
 while I am up here, at least. I am so glad, for your sake, 
 that they have been left to you. Oh, what a blessing it 
 must be to have somebody to love ; in whom you can 
 confide under all circumstances whose heart has become 
 one of your own, no change to fear I mean change of 
 affection, no possible reverse to weaken its power 
 nothing but death to dissolve the band, but even death 
 unable to tear it from the heart. Shall we go ? " and say 
 ing so she arose from her seat. 
 
 " Oh, Eva, I cannot part thus. Will you not allow me 
 to make an explanation ? " 
 
 " It could do no good it could not alter facts we 
 had better go." 
 
 He offered her his arm, which she readily took, and 
 their conversation turned at once upon subjects of light 
 interest upon which she talked freely and pleasantly, and 
 they soon reached the house of Mr. Sandford. 
 
 " I suppose," said William, "I must say good-bye to you 
 now." 
 
 " Shall I not see you again ? " and she gave him that pe 
 culiar look, which he remembered once before encounter 
 ing, and which filled him with self reproach. 
 
 He took her hand, and without reply, went on his way.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 As the little party emerged from the carriage, and Mr. 
 Sandford came iip to his wife, who was standing by the 
 side of young Roland, earnestly surveying the house and 
 its surroundings, she turned towards him a look of intense 
 delight. 
 
 " You are a dear, good husband." 
 
 " What's the matter, now ? " said he, smiling. 
 
 "Just the very place you knew would please me." 
 
 " Glad if you like it ; ' rather plain,' I feared you would 
 say." 
 
 " Oh, but the trees, dear husband ! What sweet shades, 
 and what a charming view in every direction. Don't you 
 think it beautiful ? " turning to Mr. Roland. 
 
 "The prospect, do you mean, Mrs. Sandford, or the 
 house ? " (The house was a plain, but good sized, and 
 substantial building.) 
 
 " I am not thinking about the house." 
 
 " Perhaps, madam, that may have, in the end, a good 
 deal to do with your enjoyment of the view from it. The 
 latter is indeed, very fair." 
 
 " Very fair ! I almost fear you are so accustomed to 
 fine scenery, that you have become obtuse to its charms." 
 
 Mr. Roland, somewhat diverted by the enthusiasm of 
 his companion, smiled as he replied : 
 
 " I have learned that the circumstances within doors 
 have a modifying effect upon the view from its windows. 
 A smoky chimney, or a leaky roof, or even a poor cup of 
 coffee, will sometimes make a material difference with the 
 aspect of woods and mountains, and rivers, too." 
 
 " Oh, you miserable men ! dependent on physical com 
 forts spiritual enjoyments but a secondary considera 
 tion ! Oh, how I pity you ! " 
 
 " Come, Caroline," said Mr. Sandford, " if you are pleas-
 
 19t> LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 ed with the outside of things, suppose we step in and look 
 round there a little ; you may not be so well satisfied." 
 
 But Caroline was in a frame of mind to be satisfied with 
 every thing, and the satisfaction she manifested at the size 
 of the rooms, and the disposition her husband had made 
 of the various articles of furniture, was indeed a real 
 pleasure to him ; and then that large willow tree i-n the 
 rear of the house ! " How cool and refreshing seemed its 
 extended shade, and how green and inviting the velvety 
 grass beneath it ! " 
 
 " What are you doing with those chairs, Caroline ? " 
 Mrs. Sandfbrd had given a hasty survey had been 
 into the kitchen and up stairs among the bedrooms all 
 pleased her, and coming into the parlor, where her hus 
 band was busy wheeling the sofa to another side of tho 
 room he thought more appropriate for it, she caught up 
 two of the chairs, and was conveying them off, when he 
 made this exclamation. 
 
 " I am going to realize some of my day-dreams. Come 
 dear husband, and take a seat beside me." 
 
 " Is not this all our hearts can desire ? " she said, as Mr. 
 Sandford took the seat she had prepared for him. 
 
 " It is very pleasant, certainly, and the more so to me, 
 as it seems to satisfy you." 
 
 " I should be very um-easonable not to be satisfied, when 
 I know you have done your best to please, even if it did 
 not meet my expectations, but it is far, far better than I 
 ever fancied." 
 
 " Why does not Eva come out ? Where does she keep 
 herself? " 
 
 " I fear Eva, dear husband, is not happy. I wonder how 
 matters stand between her and young Herbert. You know 
 they have had a walk together. I fear it has not been sat 
 isfactory to her, or to him either, for I saw when they 
 parted, he looked very, very sad, and she, I know, has been 
 weeping since." 
 
 "Do you think they are fond of each other ? " 
 " I think they have been, but there is some misunder 
 standing that disturbs them both now, and it is very un 
 fortunate, for he is going away to be gone for years, and 
 she has got to be subject to the influence and designs of 
 that Blanchard."
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 197 
 
 " I should think from the manner in which she treated 
 his veto yesterday, his influence has no power over her." 
 
 " Yes, but my dear husband, he is, I think, a very artful 
 man, and a continual dropping will wear away a stone, 
 you know ; there, she will be under his own roof, compar 
 atively alone. He can make himself agreeable when he 
 wishes. My only hope is, that Eva has sense enough to 
 see through him, and heart enough to spurn all his advan 
 ces ; but still it is a dangerous situation for a young girl 
 to be placed in. But here comes Mr. Roland." 
 
 " Well, madam," said Roland, as he entered the yard, " I 
 see you are trying the experiment of sitting under your 
 own vine." 
 
 " Yes, we are, and here you see is a seat for you." 
 "For me ! well, I must say it is a very pleasant shade, 
 and rather grateful, just now it is going to be a warm 
 day. I suppose, Mr. Sandford, you do not yet take upon 
 you the responsibility of matters here, not until you have 
 had your holiday." 
 
 " Well, no sir, not until I learn a little what is needed 
 and what directions to give. I leave every thing at pre 
 sent to the care of Mr. Bradford." 
 
 " Bradford is a fine fellow. You will think much of 
 him, Mrs. Sandford, when you come to know him. I 
 think he takes the poetical view of things." 
 " Indeed ! and a laboring man, too ? " 
 "Yes, madam, one of our most industrious, hard work 
 ing men. His romantic ideas, however, I believe, do not 
 run in the vein of sitting under the shadow of vines, or 
 living upon wide piazzas." 
 
 " Only in summer, I said," replied Mrs. Sandford, with 
 a hearty laugh, " but I fear you have too good a memory." 
 " It is a good memory, I suppose, that keeps hold of the 
 sayings and doings of those we feel respect for." 
 
 " If it does not treasure them up as witnesses against 
 them." 
 
 " Mr. Bradford is poetical in his friendship. He is the 
 youngest brother of quite a large family. His two sisters 
 have married, and two of his brothers, and he has two un 
 married brothers. They all had their share of the prop 
 erty which their father left, equally divided. For his por-
 
 198 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 tion, he chose the farm and homestead, and as none of 
 them cared to remain in the country, they were very will 
 ing he should take it. He was not brought up to work 
 any more than the rest. Their father owned quite an es 
 tate, and the boys, most of them, preferred going into 
 business, and the old gentleman sold off one farm after 
 another, to supply each of them with capital, as they be 
 came of age. Lucius had remained at home, being the 
 youngest, and superintended matters, as the old gentleman 
 became unable to do so. They had been well brought up, 
 that is, they were affectionate to each other, and were dis 
 tinguished always as a harmonious family. When the old 
 gentleman was about to make his will, he called them all 
 together, and made known to them what he designed to 
 leave to each, and had them all express their wishes in 
 reference to the old place whether any of them partic 
 ularly desired it and were willing to take it as a portion. 
 The older ones preferred money to real estate, and thought 
 as they were all either settled in business, or clerks in 
 the city, and should probably never wish to live there, 
 that it had better be sold. Lucius had not yet been asked. 
 When his turn came, he said, "that if he could have his 
 choice, he should prefer to keep the homestead and farm 
 attached ; its value might be assessed, and if it was worth 
 more than his share, a mortgage might be placed upon it. 
 He did not wish more than the rest had. The brothers 
 and sisters, however, seemed united in the feeling, that as 
 he had remained at home, and would continue to remain, 
 the whole ought to go to him. The value of the estate 
 was probably eight thousand dollars, which was about the 
 sum which the others would each receive for their share. 
 
 " I was quite intimate with him, for we are of the same 
 age. One day, in conversing with him on the situation of 
 his brothers and sisters, he remarked : 
 
 " ' They seem to be all doing well, and I believe are 
 making money,' but, said he, 'they are all living in the 
 city, and living as yet in hired houses, which, you know, 
 cannot seem much like home. They will live in one per 
 haps a year, and then hire another and move to that; they 
 are all young yet, and I know must feel a longing at times 
 to come up and see the old place where we were all born
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 199 
 
 and brought up ; and supposing it had been sold ! there 
 would not have been one spot on earth towards which 
 their affections could center which they could look to as 
 home.' " 
 
 " What a beautiful idea ! " exclaimed Mrs. Sandford. 
 " Sure enough, there would have been no rallying place 
 for their hearts that is, as brothers and sisters and he 
 meant to make them feel that it was to be truly such." 
 
 " That was one of his objects, madam, but perhaps not 
 the main one ; he has used every means to make them feel 
 that it is as free to them as ever, and sometimes he gets 
 them all together under the old roof, and then seems per 
 fectly happy. He keeps things snug, and in the same con 
 dition as when their parents were living, and will not al 
 low a tree or shrub to be cut down or removed ; every 
 thing in the house must remain just as it was. And yet 
 beyond this, he had an ulterior end in view which borders 
 a little more on the romantic, considering that he is the 
 youngest of the family, than what I have already told you. 
 Said he to me, * my brothers, I know, seem to be doing 
 well, but business in the city is precarious ; times change 
 there very suddenly. They may some of them get into 
 difficulties may fail and be broken up, what are they 
 then to do ? No father's home to go to ! living in the 
 city expensive ! Now I mean to make this a refuge for 
 them. There shall be one bright spot they can turn their 
 eyes to one shelter where they can run to when storms 
 overtake them one table that shall be spread for as 
 many of them as can get round it." 
 
 " Oh, the noble fellow ! " said Mrs. Sandford, her bright 
 eyes glistening with the starting tear. 
 
 "And has his liberality ever been tested?" said Mr. 
 Sandford. 
 
 " It has, indeed, sir. Two years after the death of their 
 father the elder brother failed. Lucius heard of it, and 
 off he started. He found him and his wife in great trou 
 ble. He did all he could to help them, but his supply of 
 money was not large. He could not reinstate things, for 
 the failure was for a large amount, but he paid off some 
 private bills such as the family had incurred and then 
 brought the whole concern home with him, the wife and
 
 200 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 the wife's sister, who was then dependent upon his broth 
 er, and three children, and a servant to wait upon them, 
 as the wife was in feeble health, and when he got them 
 here, he seemed to me, perfectly happy. His whole effort 
 was to. make them feel at home, and that the whole thing 
 was a pleasure excursion, and as much for his comfort as 
 theirs. And I truly believe, if he could not have brought 
 them back with him, and thus have relieved his brother 
 of the care and expense necessarily connected with the 
 then' state of affairs, he would have been very sad in 
 deed." 
 
 "And are they there, still? " asked Mrs. Sandford. 
 
 " Oh, no, madam ; they remained there nearly a year. 
 His brother's affairs were compromised, and he was able 
 to go on again ; but the real aid he afforded in the time 
 of their need, the weight of care, and the burden of ex 
 pense of which he relieved his brother, was a great mat 
 ter ; great in many ways, for it enabled the brother to turn 
 his whole attention to the settling up of his affairs, and to 
 offer his furniture to his creditors, and to let the house he 
 had hired. The creditors would not take his furniture, 
 and no doubt settled with him more readily, because 
 they saw that he was not living at their expense ; but it 
 has opened a place for him in that brother's laeart, and in 
 that of his wife, too, that I can imagine of more value, 
 than all the mere material interests that have been af 
 fected." 
 
 " And he has opened a place in my heart, too," said Mrs. 
 Sandford, " I shall feel proud to know him." 
 
 " I have heard," said Mr. Sandford, " that he has lately 
 lost money by some of his friends." 
 
 " He has so, sir. Some months since, the husband of 
 one of his sisters, died. He had not been prosperous in 
 business ; he was by no means a thrifty man, and not even 
 honest. A few months before he died, Lucius received a 
 letter from his sister, asking him to come immediately to 
 the city, for they were in trouble. He went, of course at 
 once, and found that his brother-in-law was in danger of 
 having a criminal prosecution commenced against him, for 
 some underhand way in which he had attained money, 
 amounting to two thousand dollars. Lucius borrowed
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 201 
 
 the money on his own responsibility, paid the obligation, 
 brought his sister and her two children home with him, 
 and got the husband off to some foreign countiy, to try 
 and make a living where he was not known, and there he 
 died. But I must ask of you, as a particular favor, not to 
 let a word escape your lips in reference to this matter, for 
 in fact, the sister does not know that her husband was in 
 danger of prosecution as a felon, and no one but her 
 brothers know the .whole truth about the matter. It has 
 cost him more than two thousand dollars to accomplish 
 the whole thing. He told me 2 for he has always made me 
 his confidant, and I have told you for the reason that, as 
 you are to be neighbors, and will no doubt be at times 
 brought into somewhat jntimate relations with him, you 
 may know something of his character ; and I believe you 
 can appreciate his motives for keeping the^matter secret." 
 
 "We thank you," said Mr. Sandford, i* for the confidence 
 reposed in us ; it shall not be abused, depend upon that." 
 
 " There must be something more than a poetical turn of 
 mind," Mrs. Sandford interposed, " that has led to such 
 poetical results. He must be a Christian." 
 
 Mr. Roland made no reply. 
 
 " I mean," she continued, " a Christian not merely in 
 name. He has manifested the true spirit of our Master, 
 do you not think so ? " 
 
 " He is very fond of his friends, and like every true man 
 who values friendship, is ready to make sacrifices for it in 
 the hour of need but suppose we take a Avalk into your 
 garden. I have taken the liberty, Mr. Sandford, of setting 
 my man to work there, in cutting up the weeds, as I per 
 ceive there will be no occasion for his services in the 
 house. Mr. Bradford has done something about planting 
 it with vegetables, but of course has not had time to keep 
 things in proper trim." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, thank you, you are very kind. The 
 fact is, my wife enticed me here, in order to realize some . 
 of her beautiful visions, and between her flights of fancy, 
 and your entertaining history of that young man, I have 
 iorgotten most every thing else." 
 
 " Now just hear him, Mr. Roland ! is not that a pretty 
 9*
 
 202 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 way to reward us for doing what we could to make his 
 holiday pleasant ? " 
 
 Mrs. Sandford now left the gentlemen for the purpose 
 of seeking for Eva. She found her seated in one of the 
 upper rooms, rocking herself in a large arm chair, and 
 looking pale and agitated. Mrs. Sandford took her hand 
 as she placed a seat beside her. 
 
 " Dear Eva, I fear you are not happy." 
 
 " It is most unfortunate for me that I did not go on in 
 the boat. I am sorry that I landed." She spoke in brok 
 en tones, and the big tears were coursing down her lovely 
 face. 
 
 " Can you not, dear Eva, confide in me enough to let 
 me know the cause of your trouble. My husband and 
 myself are ready to do anything for your comfort. Can 
 you not trust us as friends ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, but friends can do nothing in my case. I am 
 most unfortunate, and it seems my destiny to make others 
 unhappy, too." 
 
 " Not your destiny, dear. You may be unfortunate, as 
 all of us are at times, in doing or saying what may grieve 
 our friends, but do tell me, has your trouble arisen out of 
 your interview with Mr. Herbert, this morning ? " 
 
 " It has. I have been much to blame I see and feel it 
 now my pride has made us both wretched." 
 
 And then Eva, in a straight forward way, related all that 
 had transpired between her and William Herbert that 
 morning. 
 
 Mrs. Sandford was silent a few moments, reflecting on 
 the difficulties of the case. Here were two young hearts, 
 bound to each other by a strong affection, but an unfortu 
 nate circumstance had aroused their natural pride, and 
 placed an obstacle, almost insurmountable, in the way of 
 their union. William had been shut out from further ad 
 vances, and Eva could not consistently open the door 
 again. 
 
 At length Mrs. Sandford said : 
 
 " I think, dear Eva, that much of the difficulty which so 
 often arises between hearts that truly love, springs from a 
 wrong idea of true delicacy. It seems to me, situated as 
 you and Mr. Herbert have been with such an opportu-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 203 
 
 nity for knowing each others peculiarities some forbear 
 ance was required, and a good deal of confidence. You 
 believe he loves you still, and you are free to confess that 
 you love him ? " 
 
 "If I thought he did not love me, dear Mrs. Sandford, 
 I should not suffer as I now do. I feel assured he loves 
 me. I believed it at the time when I refused to listen to 
 any explanation. And now he is about to go on a long 
 voyage, to be absent for years, probably, for a few years 
 make great changes we shall never meet again, and he 
 will carry away with him the idea that I have a cold, proud, 
 calculating heart, ready to inflict bitter suffering on an old 
 friend, in order to gratify " 
 
 But she could say no more ; her proud spirit had to 
 yield she gave way to a full burst of tears. 
 
 " Eva, dear Eva, this must not be ; you and Mr. Her 
 bert must not part thus. Let me see him." 
 
 " Oh, no, no, no ! death would be better than such hu 
 miliation." 
 
 " Give him then some chance of explanation." 
 
 " I do not need any explanation ; the look he gave me 
 when we parted, was explanation enough." 
 
 " Are you willing, then, under such circumstances, to let 
 him depart, without one token of your interest in him ? 
 Think what it would be to him when far off in a strange 
 land, to have the consciousness that he was loved by one 
 on whom his own affections were placed." 
 
 " What would you do, Mrs. Sandford, after a gentleman 
 acknowledged to you ' that he had tried to put you out of 
 his thoughts ! to expel you from his heart ! ' ' 
 
 " But he did not say, nor do you believe, that he had 
 succeeded in any such endeavor. He had reasons which 
 he thought demanded such an effort on his part, and I 
 must say, dear Eva, I do not view his conduct as you have 
 done. You would not have had him renounce his man 
 hood, and throw himself in the way of insult, where he 
 could neither resent it, nor very well hear it, without feel 
 ing abased in the very presence perhaps, of the one before 
 whom of all others, he would wish to act the man. De 
 pend upon it, Herbert has a spirit you might well be proud 
 to submit to."
 
 204 > LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " I know it ; I believe him to be the noblest and best of 
 men." 
 
 This conversation was here interrupted by a knock at 
 the room door. Mrs. Sandford opened the door, and see 
 ing her husband, stepped into the entry and closed the 
 door after her. 
 
 " Blanchard has come for Eva." 
 
 " Why has he come so soon ? " 
 
 " That question he must answer himself." 
 
 " But you know we were to take her home in a few 
 days. I do not believe she will go with him." 
 
 ".Then she had better tell him so ; he seems in quite a 
 different mood to day as pleasant as possible. It is very 
 likely he will do as she says." 
 
 " I do not believe it, dear husband, and you will see if 
 it is not as I say ; but let him wait a few moments, Eva 
 cannot go down just yet." 
 
 " Let her come as soon as.^she can, then." 
 
 " What do you say, dear Eva," said Mrs. Sandford, as 
 she again entered the room, " Mi*. Blanchard has come for 
 you do you think you had better go ? " 
 
 Eva was taken by surprise. She could not for a mo 
 ment make any reply. She inwardly hoped that in some 
 way an opportunity might be afforded for another inter 
 view with William Herbert. She was also astonished that 
 Mr. Blanchard should have hastened so unnecessarily to 
 take her to his home, but as he had taken the trouble to 
 come, it might be best on many accounts, that she should 
 go ; she therefore replied : 
 
 " I feel as though it would be best, although the idea of 
 going, certainly is not very agreeable ; but perhaps the 
 eooner I get away from this place the better for me and 
 others. Yes, Mrs. Sandford, I think on the whole I had 
 better go." 
 
 Eva at once made efforts to erase all traces of the emo 
 tion she had yielded to, and was soon ready to accompa 
 ny Mrs. Sandford to the parlor below. Mr. Blanchard 
 met her in quite a joyous mood. He had arrayed him 
 self in much more than usual style, and seemed particu 
 larly amiable. 
 
 " Well, miss," he said, as he stepped with quite a youth-
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 205 
 
 ful air up to meet her, " you see how necessary you are to 
 my to our happiness. Aunt Jemima would start me 
 off as soon as I had reached the house, (this was not true,) 
 she said it would not seem like home till you got there." 
 
 Eva made no reply to all this, further than to say, " that 
 she was ready whenever he would be so." 
 
 " But, Mrs. Sandford," said Eva, turning to that lady, 
 "I must see that kind gentleman, Mr. Roland, to acknowl 
 edge, at least, his hospitality." 
 
 " By all means," said Mrs. Sandford, " I will let him 
 know that you are going." 
 
 In a few moments Mr. Roland entered, and at once 
 stepped up to Miss Eva. 
 
 " I am sorry to learn, Miss Stanley, that you think of 
 leaving us so soon. I had hoped to enjoy one good, 
 long, pleasant evening on our piazza, which Mrs. Sandford 
 admires so much," and he turned smiling towards that 
 lady. *< The Misses Herbert, too, with their brother, are 
 to be with us as you no doubt know he takes the boat 
 to-night from our landing." 
 
 " Oh, I do wish you could stay," exclaimed Mrs. Sand- 
 ford, it will be such a delightful gathering ; Mr. Blanch- 
 ard, must Eva go ? " 
 
 Mr. Blanchard did not reply. He either did not hear 
 the question, or was too much excited just then, to say 
 any thing, for Mr. Sandford had at that moment come into 
 the room, and handed a neatly folded note to Eva. Her 
 first question to Mr. Sandford, was : 
 
 "Is he here?" 
 
 " In the north parlor." 
 
 Eva at once left the room, and Mr. Sandford took a 
 seat by his guest, that he might do something to divert 
 him, for he appeared beside himself. Mrs. Sandford had 
 left when Eva did she must say something, for she 
 well knew that she was about to see Mr. Herbert ; and 
 Mr. Roland walked out under the willow, to regale him 
 self with the fresh breeze. 
 
 " What does all this mean, Sandford ? " 
 
 " All what ! what do you refer to ? " 
 
 " Refer to ! why why what made Eva turn so red 
 when you handed her that note ! who was it from ? "
 
 206 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " I did not see the signature." 
 
 " But who is it she has gone to see ? I have a good 
 mind to call her back." 
 
 " I think you had better not attempt it ; if you will take 
 my advice, you will let young girls manage their own love 
 matters." 
 
 " Love matters ! love matters ! I shall stop it at once, 
 stop it at once ; how dare any one ! it must, it must be 
 stopped it shall be stopped ! " and in a violent mood, 
 he at once arose and was going into the hall. 
 
 " Blanchard, Blanchard, what ails you ? where are you 
 going?" 
 
 " To find Eva, to be sure ! she must go home with me 
 at once." 
 
 " Stop, stop, Blanchard, I beg of you, don't make a fool 
 of yourself; you must not leave this room with any such 
 intent. Remember she is a young lady ; you would not 
 wish to insult her." 
 
 "Insult her! It's me that's insulted me, her lawful 
 guardian it is me, sir, and I will not allow any one to 
 usurp my rights." 
 
 "Blanchard, come, come back. I cannot allow any 
 such doings in my house. You shall not disturb her, so 
 take a seat now and be easy." 
 
 But Mr. Blanchard had too far lost the equipoise of his 
 mind just then, to listen to reason ; and it was only by 
 bracing himself against the door, that Mr. Sandford could 
 prevent him from putting his threat into execution. This 
 added fuel to his rage, and with almost the look of a de 
 mon, he broke forth on Mr. Sandford. 
 
 " And it was for this, sir, you enticed her to land here ! 
 It was a trick, all a trick ; I knew it at the time, and I'll 
 have you all prosecuted for conspiracy. I am her lawful 
 guardian, and " 
 
 " Blanchard, I tell you at once what I shall do, if you 
 do not stop your abuse, and take a seat and behave de 
 cently. Esquire Roland, that young gentleman you saw 
 here a few moments ago, is a Justice of the Peace ; he is 
 in my house, and I shall have you taken up as a disturber 
 of the peace. And now I tell you plainly, Miss Stanley 
 is a young lady old enough, and with sense enough, to
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 207 
 
 judge for herself, and she has too many friends to allow 
 of any insult to her, with impunity. You had better take 
 your seat now, and try to calm yourself." 
 
 " And allow my niece, who has been placed by her own 
 father under my care, to be shut up in a room with some 
 young scapegrace, and perhaps about to run away with 
 him f" 
 
 "If she were your daughter instead of your niece, as 
 you call her, what could you do ? You forget that this is 
 a free country. Girls have liberty as well as men, but as 
 you are neither her father nor her uncle, and can only 
 have power over her, by exerting influence in a mild and 
 reasonable way, you are doing the very thing to make her 
 run away, or to place herself beyond your control. You 
 know, Blanchard, that by the terms of her father's will, 
 she can at any time choose another guardian." 
 
 " How do you know that ? " 
 
 " I understand that to be the reading of the will." 
 
 Did Eva tell you so ? " 
 
 Blanchard had by this time walked away from the door 
 and had been moving to and fro across the room. On 
 asking this last question, he resumed his seat. Mr. Sand- 
 ford noticed that he turned suddenly pale, and seemed 
 much agitated. 
 
 " Eva did not herself tell me so, but I am very certain 
 that she thus understands it. Is it not so ? " 
 
 As Blanchard did not reply, Mr. Sandford continued. 
 
 " Now, Blanchard, I am not as old as you, and you have 
 seen more of the world than I have ; " Blanchard colored 
 a little, and straightened himself up, " but I can tell you, 
 if you wish to retain any influence over that young lady, 
 you must change your course towards her entirely. She 
 is not of a temper quietly to submit to any compulsion. 
 She has never been used to it, and however submissive 
 she may have been under your care, while passing from 
 the girl into the woman, depend upon it, any rigor ex 
 ercised, or any meddling with her rights as a lady, will 
 cause her to throw off all control you could possibly have 
 over her." 
 
 Blanchard began to cool down. He knew that much 
 depended upon his being able to retain a hold on Eva,
 
 208 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 and should she, as Mr. Sandford had intimated, throw off 
 his control, and choose another manager, he would be in 
 trouble of no ordinary kind ! In fact, the rage he mani 
 fested, when Mr. Sandford suggested the idea that Eva 
 was closeted with a lover, was caused as much by fear, as 
 by jealousy for it may as well be said at once, Mr. 
 Blanchard was earnestly endeavoring to g~ain her hand, 
 and for reasons of the last importance to him. She had 
 refused his son most decidedly, that he knew and was. 
 not sorry for it but his self-complacency led him to 
 believe that such a result would not attend his own ex 
 periment. He knew that his personal appeara'nce was 
 commanding. He was called a handsome man. Age had 
 not, he believed, made any mai-k upon him that a young 
 lady would notice. Then his standing as a man of prop 
 erty, reputed to be wealthy, that was an additional item, 
 which he counted much upon, for although Eva had " some 
 property," Mr. Blanchaixl always spoke of it that way 
 " some property," " some little property? he some 
 times said ; yet he believed women in general loved mon 
 ey, or loved show, and his wealth would be an induce 
 ment, which his son, of course, had not to offer. The 
 only thing which Mr. Blanchard had feared, was the in 
 terference or opposition of his two daughters one of 
 them a year older than Eva, and the other a year young 
 er. They might not fancy a mother put over them of 
 their own age, and his great desire of late had been, that 
 they might be profitably married, and he had great hopes 
 that the elder one, at least, was in a fair way to that end. 
 They were both of them in New York, at present, not 
 caring to spend the summer in the country. They were 
 boarding at a relative's, and Mr. Blanchard was quite hap 
 py in the prospect of having a quiet time with Eva. She 
 preferred the country, and as her old nurse accompanied 
 her, felt no reluctance in going to Mr. Blanchard's coun 
 try seat, even without her usual companions, his daugh 
 ters ; in fact, was not sorry to be relieved of their pres 
 ence. She got along peaceably with them, but it had 
 been by the exercise of forbearance on her part ; their 
 tastes were dissimilar, and the company they selected not 
 such as Eva enjoyed. Mr. Blanchard had therefore been
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 209 
 
 calculating much upon the advance he could make in 
 gaining the object of his desire upon pleasant rides in 
 his carriage, with Eva by his side, and pleasant tete-a- 
 tetes on rainy days, or warm summer evenings it was 
 to be a very good time indeed, as Mr. Blanchard had pic 
 tured it, and the reader will now be able to comprehend 
 the cause for Mr. Blanchard's excitement under present 
 circumstances, and make allowances for poor, human na 
 ture, when sorely tried, and also to appreciate the answer 
 which Mr. Blanchard made to the reasoning of his com 
 panion. '/ 
 
 " I only wish to control her for her own good." 
 
 " That may be, but Avomen at her age are very apt to 
 feel that they are the best judges of what is for their 
 good ; you must know that they are more led by their 
 hearts than their heads." 
 
 " Therefore the more necessary that they should be 
 under proper care. Now, in this case, it seems to me 
 highly improper that she, a young girl without experi 
 ence, and without any acquaintance with men by the 
 way, who is the gentleman ? you must know it must 
 be some acqxiaintance she has made here." 
 
 " I suppose I can give a good guess, although, as I told 
 you, I did not see the signature to the note. It is an old 
 friend, the gentleman we took on board the sloop in that 
 storm." 
 
 " Not young Herbert ! " 
 
 "I presume it is he, and you can understand now, Mr. 
 Blanchard, what an unfortunate thing rt would have been 
 for you to have interrupted their interview. Any slight 
 or disrespect shown to that young man, would have so 
 offended her, that I do not believe she would ever have 
 been induced again to enter your house. You must act 
 with caution in dealing with women you must feel as 
 if yon were handling glass ware." 
 
 " How came he here ? 1 thought he landed some miles 
 down the river." Mr. Blanchard spoke now in not only 
 a mild manner, but his voice was quite husky ; he was un 
 der greater excitement than he had been yet, but he had 
 to restrain his feelings ; he saw clearly that he must move 
 with caution.
 
 210 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 "His sisters are at board in this neighborhood, and they 
 all came up hei-e last evening. He leaves to-night for 
 New York, and in a few weeks for South America, and of 
 course it is very natural that Miss Eva should wish to see 
 one who was, as you know, once so intimate with her 
 family." 
 
 Eva's voice was now heard in the hall, as though call 
 ing to some one who had just left. 
 
 " Give my love to your sisters. I shall hope to see 
 them this evening." 
 
 And then she came with haste into the room, her coun 
 tenance somewhat more calm than when she had left it. 
 
 " I am sorry, uncle, to have detained you so," Mr. 
 Blanchard perhaps unconsciously knit his brow ; he had 
 of late objections to that title "I believe I shall con 
 clude to give my friends here the trouble to carry or send 
 me home in a few days, as they seem so ready to do so, 
 and perhaps I can be of some assistance to Mrs. Sandford, 
 in getting ready for country housekeeping. I believe I 
 know more about the country now, than she does." 
 
 Mr. Blanchard began to realize that Eva, as Mr. Sand- 
 ford had said, felt herself equal to the task of being her 
 own advisor or guardian, for she did not attempt to hide 
 the fact that she had made up her mind to stay. He was 
 sorely disappointed. He had calculated on having such a 
 pleasant ride home such a fine opportunity for com 
 plaisance and attention. 
 
 " But what will Aunt Jemima say ! she feels dreadfully 
 lonesome." 
 
 " Oh, well, you know she has her kittens and little Jow- 
 ler, she must amuse herself with them ; I don't think she 
 will suffer." 
 
 " Well, well, if it must be so, it must, but when shall I 
 come for you ? " 
 
 " Oh, uncle, you need not do that by any means ; we 
 have so many gentlemen around here that seem to have 
 not much else to do but wait upon ladies," smiling toward 
 Mr. Sandford, " that I have no doubt the moment I say 
 the word, they will be ready to take me." 
 
 Another hard blow upon Mr. Blanchard's suffering 
 heart; he choked it down however, made the best he
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 211 
 
 could of the matter, was very formal in his bows to the 
 company, and was soon on his way, no doubt indulging 
 some thoughts about the past, present and future, not all, 
 of them very agreeable. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The letter which Mr. Sandford handed to Miss Eva 
 Stanley, and which caused such disturbance in the mind 
 of Mr. Blanchard, was entirely of a business nature. It 
 was a request from William Herbert, that she would al 
 low of an interview between them, as he wished to com 
 municate with her on some matters that had reference 
 solely to her own personal interests, and with which he 
 himself had no concern. Mrs. Sandford, as we have seen, 
 accompanied her from the room where the company had 
 been assembled, and led the trembling girl into an adjoin 
 ing one, that she might read the letter, and that she, Mrs. 
 Sandford, might say a few words to her before the inter 
 view with Mr. Herbert. She saw that Eva turned pale 
 while reading its contents, and felt deeply anxious to know 
 what it contained. As Eva laid it on her lap, Mrs. Sand- 
 ford asked : 
 . " May I see it ? " 
 
 " Oli, yes, there is nothing in it that I care for," and 
 handed it. 
 
 "What does it mean, dear Eva ? " 
 
 "I cannot imagine, nor do I care. Business! and per 
 sonal concern ! I care for neither." 
 
 " But you will see him ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I suppose I must." 
 
 " You wish to see him, do you not ? " 
 
 " I cannot say what I wish. My mind is in a whirl 
 every thing is dark about me life is getting to be a 
 burden." 
 
 " You should not say so. You must not feel so, you 
 have many things agreeable in your lot."
 
 212 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 "You do not know, dear Mrs. Sandford, or you would 
 not say so. Thrown upon the cares of a family, not one 
 member of which has any true sympathy for me, because 
 we have no views or feelings in common ; and the only 
 human being besides yourself to whom I might have 
 looked for it, the only one who really knows me, and 
 whom I once thought loved me. Yes, I will say it to 
 you, I thought he loved me. I am to be separated from, 
 and with his own confession ringing in my ears ' he had 
 tried to put me out of his mind.' " 
 
 "^Do don't, dear Eva, you will get your feelings all 
 worked -up again. You will wish to feel composed when 
 you meet Mr. Herbert ; but promise me, dear Eva, if there 
 is any opening for an explanation, you will not put an 
 obstacle in his way again." 
 
 She made no reply, but rising and taking the letter in 
 her hand, proceeded at once to the room where William 
 Herbert was waiting to receive her. 
 
 On entering the room, he rose quickly and gave his hand 
 which she readily took. Neither spoke. He led her to a 
 seat, and placed himself near her. She saw he was dead 
 ly pale, and when he spoke there was an evident tremor 
 in his voice, and the tones very low. 
 
 " I have taken the liberty to request this interview, not 
 for any personal reason of my own," he said, " as my note 
 informed you^ and yet in some sense it is a personal mat 
 ter of my own, too. I cannot, without an effort to pre 
 vent it, see the daughter of th6se from whom for so many 
 years I received such tokens of kindness, and from whose 
 lather I learned those principles of business that have en 
 abled me to gain a livelihood, and perhaps an indepen 
 dence, in danger." 
 
 " In danger ! From what source ? " 
 
 And Eva looked at him earnestly, and almost with a 
 countenance tinged with displeasure. 
 
 " From one who is entrusted with power over you and 
 your property. 
 
 " I understand you, but I could not have imagined that 
 William Herbert had so far lost confidence in Eva Stan 
 ley, that he could for a moment give credence to the idle
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 213 
 
 stories that I hear are circulating. I must have fallen in 
 your estimation, William, much lower than I supposed." 
 
 "I suppose I know to what you allude, but I can assure 
 you, my apprehensions are not founded on any such idea. 
 You do me injustice by the mere suspicion that my fears 
 were excited by that cause." 
 
 " Pardon me, then, I believe you. I am sorry I did not 
 wait and learn fully to what you referred." 
 
 " That Mr. Blanchard should desire to make sure in 
 some way of your good will, and even endeavor to obtain 
 your hand, I can very readily believe ; but unless I could 
 be assured that Eva Stanley had lost all respect for her 
 self and those from whom she is descended, not for an in 
 stant could the thought dwell in my mind that her con 
 sent could ever be obtained. My fears are entirely con 
 fined to the power which Mr. Blanchard has over your 
 property. He is, you know, a guardian, and under no 
 bond for the fulfillment of that trust ; it has been left to 
 his honor." 
 
 " One would think that would be bond enough, to say 
 nothing of the hard-heartedness that would take advan 
 tage of a lone and friendless one as I am. Surely the ob 
 ligations he is under to my father, who, as I have often 
 heard, assisted him materially in his earlier days, must 
 have weight enough to keep him from injuring me ; and 
 besides, what object could my small property be to him, 
 a rich man." 
 
 " How small do you suppose your property is ? " 
 
 " I have never thought about it any way. My allow 
 ance is six hundred a year. Mr. Blanchard always spoke 
 of it in that way, ' small property,' it may probably be 
 twelve or fifteen thousand dollars." 
 
 " Yes, and five times that amount and more too ; that 
 is, your father left that amount of property. There must 
 have been all of ninety thousand dollars received by Mr. 
 Blauchard, from your father's estate." 
 
 " Are you sure, William ? " 
 
 " Sure as my senses can make me. Every dollar of his 
 money was under my inspection. Your father kept noth 
 ing from me." 
 
 " I know he reposed the utmost confidence in you."
 
 214 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " I have evidence that I can rely upon, that your prop 
 erty is in danger. Mr. Blanchard is, in some way, closely 
 linked with a man in the city of New York, who is known 
 to be a reckless speculator. He may be an honest man, 
 but he is a very unsafe person to be trusted with funds. 
 He has met with great losses, and is likely to lose a vast 
 deal more, if the present times continue. Mr. Blanchard 
 knows something of this, but probably is not aware to 
 what extent he has already suffered. His own property is 
 small. I know he is reported rich, but he was not rich 
 when your father died. Forty thousand dollars would 
 more than cover all he was worth ; the large amount, 
 therefore, which he is operating upon, must come from 
 other sources. Do you know that he has sold many of 
 your lots in the upper part of the city ? " 
 
 " I do not know that he has sold them. He did once 
 say to me, that he thought it would be better to sell them 
 as they were unproductive, and might better be sold and 
 the amount invested in some way that would yield an in 
 come, but I made no reply, for, in fact, I cared little about 
 such things." 
 
 " Money is a blessing, if properly used it is power 
 it is a talent with which you are entrusted. You ought 
 now, that you are near the age when you can in some 
 measure act for yourself, acquaint yourself with your af 
 fairs. It would be a sad thing for you to be left desti 
 tute ; you have never known want, nor what it was not to 
 have every wish gratified that is, so long as I knew you. 
 Your father earned his money honestly and honorably, 
 and I cannot bear to think you are in danger of losing it 
 all, and perhaps becoming dependent upon others." 
 
 " What can I do, William ? I have no more idea my 
 self, than a child." 
 
 " Choose another guardian." 
 
 "But whom should I choose ; you, I suppose, could not 
 take it ? " 
 
 " I could not, although I thank you for the confidence 
 that suggestion intimates. I shall be away, and even if I 
 were here, I might not be able to assist you. It may be in 
 a change of guardianship the Chancellor will demand large 
 securities I am yet comparatively poor. I can, how-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 215 
 
 ever, recommend to you a gentleman of sterling integri 
 ty, and of large means a friend of mine in fact, the 
 one with whom I am engaged in business." 
 
 But a perfect stranger to me ! " 
 
 " He is not exactly a stranger, for he knows about you 
 and your affairs, and it is chiefly through him I have ob 
 tained the information which has alarmed me. He knows 
 Mr. Blanchard thoroughly is in some measure intimate 
 with him. He is a kind-hearted, benevolent, whole-soul 
 man, and to tell you further, he has urged me to impress 
 upon you the necessity of taking some steps for removing 
 your property from the grasp of Blanchard." 
 
 Eva did not at once reply. She was deeply absorbed 
 in thought, trying to reconcile the statement now made to 
 her, with the circumstances under which it was made. 
 This meeting with William was accidental. Why had he 
 not taken pains to see her, or to communicate with her 
 while in New York ! If so interested in her affairs, why 
 should he have left the matter to the uncertainty of an 
 accidental meeting ? She could not comprehend it. 
 
 " I am uncertain what I ought to do. Mr. Blanchard 
 is my only friend, or at least the only one that has stood 
 in that relation to me. If I take the course you advise, I 
 must break loose from his care entirely, and then I am 
 alone indeed, and shall be thrown upon entire strangers." 
 She paused, for her feelings were becoming highly excited. 
 
 William saw the color suffusing her face, and a tear 
 steal from the drooping lids and fall upon her cheek. 
 
 " I feel deeply," he said, " the trial to which I see you 
 will be subjected, and most gladly would I relieve you 
 of every burden. I truly believe the advice I have given 
 is that which you ought to take. You have allowed me 
 to feel that the relation we ever held towards each other, 
 was not displeasing to you, and therefore I venture as 
 William Herbert of former years, to address you as Eva 
 Stanley of old, and ask you most earnestly to confide in 
 me as you did then ; for your own sake, forget all that has 
 given you displeasure since then, and believe me " 
 
 She put out her hand, which he took in silence. 
 
 " Thank you, thank you. Now tell me what to do ; I 
 will follow your advice to the very letter."
 
 216 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 In a quiet, business like manner, he then in few words 
 recommended a course which he thought the only feasi 
 ble one for her to pursue. That course need not be rela 
 ted here, and then rising to depart, 
 " I shall not probably see you again ? " 
 " Will you not be at Mr. Roland's this evening ? " 
 " I expect to be there, but are you not going back with 
 Mr. Blanchard ? I see his carriage is here." 
 
 " I thought I should when he first came, but I am now 
 under your control, and as I believe William Herbert and 
 Eva Stanley would in days gone by, if about to be sepa 
 rated for years, have wished to embrace the opportunity 
 to the last moment, of saying the last words, I therefore 
 have concluded not to return with Mr. Blanchard." 
 " And you are going to remain for my sake ! " 
 " Do you not think it best? " 
 " Eva, dear Eva." 
 
 She did not rebuke him for the warmth of his address, 
 nor did she attempt to withdraw the hand which he still 
 held. She did not speak, and in a few moments he con 
 tinued : 
 
 " You will allow me then to feel that an explanation of 
 my apparent neglect is unnecessary." 
 
 " We are William Herbert and Eva Stanley, as once we 
 were." 
 
 William was about to say something it must have 
 been something that took hold of his heart, for his coun 
 tenance manifested deep feeling. He almost pronounced 
 her name as beginning an address he hesitated gently 
 pressed her hand, and bade " good morning." 
 
 It may surprise the reader as it confused Miss Stanley, 
 why Mr. Herbert should not have taken some pains while 
 she was in the city, to have communicated to her the 
 information which he had now brought, and should have 
 left such an important matter to a chance meeting. The 
 reasons are plain ; he only learned the particulars a few 
 days before he left New York. He was then busily en 
 gaged making arrangements to remove his sisters from 
 their former home, where they had been living after the 
 decease of their mother, who had now been dead about a 
 year, to Woodburn, in order that they might be near Doc-
 
 LOOKING AROTTN-D. 217 
 
 tor Ransom, to whom their father had on his death-bed 
 entrusted them, provided he could be induced to take the 
 supervision. This was not known xintil William, on his 
 return from abroad, found among his father's papers which 
 the sisters had cloistered with great care, a sealed letter 
 addressed to himself and enclosing one to the reverend 
 gentleman ; and as the girls were desirous of leaving a 
 place, now on many accounts disagreeable to them, he at 
 once proceeded to carry out his father's request. Doctor 
 Ransom was willing to take the supervision, but he could 
 not take them into his own family, but as we have seen, 
 board was obtained at the house of young Bradford, and 
 William in accomplishing all this, had necessarily to go 
 back and forth several times, both to the residence of his 
 sisters and to Woodburn, and as there were no railroads 
 in these days, journeys occupied days instead of hours. 
 He had stopped at Sing Sing for a day and night, for the 
 purpose of gratifying his curiosity in viewing those spots 
 made classical by Irving's beautiful legend, and had sail 
 ed across the bay to see the spot where Andre had been 
 hung. 
 
 It was his firm purpose after leaving his sisters, to en 
 deavor in some way to see Eva, or communicate with her 
 on his return to New York. Their unexpected meeting, 
 and the information he received from his sisters that she 
 was to spend the summer at Blanchard's, broke up that 
 plan. He therefore resolved on his return to New York 
 to get his friend Mr. Tremain to write to her, enclosing 
 one from himself; his own letter he feared would not 
 reach her. When he again so unexpectedly met her at 
 the house of Mr. Roland, he resolved to ask a meeting. 
 It was granted, but it ended so abruptly, that he could 
 not bring himself to the point. It was only when he ac 
 cidentally learned that Blanchard's carriage had driven up 
 to the door of Mr. Sandford, that fearing she was about 
 to go away, he hastily resolved to seek another interview, 
 the result of which the reader knows. 
 
 It was not such a lively time on Mr. Roland's piazza 
 that evening as Mrs. Sandford had anticipated ; the hour 
 for separation was so near, and so many of the little com 
 pany were affected by it, as to throw a damper on the rest. 
 10
 
 218 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 Most of the conversation was carried on in almost whis 
 pered tones, and yet there seemed to be a happy ming 
 ling of sympathies, especially with the three young la 
 dies and Mrs. Sandford. Mary and Julia Herbert had 
 taken seats, one on each side of her, and were each hold 
 ing a hand. They had only seen her for the first time 
 the day previous, but her pleasant manner had won their 
 confidence, and when they found that their place of resi 
 dence was so near to hers, and that daily intercourse could 
 be readily enjoyed, it greatly increased the pleasure of 
 the acquaintance ; it would grow into friendship so they 
 thought, that is, if their society should be as agreeable to 
 her as hers was to them. They felt alone ; their guar 
 dian brother was to be away Mr. Ransom they loved 
 because William loved him. Mrs. Ransom they had not 
 seen yet. They hoped they should find her as lovely as 
 William had described her to be, but Mrs. Sandford was 
 a present joy, her loveable countenance beaming glad 
 ness and sensibility, her warm heart ready to embrace all 
 who needed her sympathy, these were palpable and met 
 their present need. Nor was Mrs. Sandford's interest in 
 them, merely the outgushing of benevolence towards the 
 two orphans. She had heard a little about them from. 
 Eva, and that, with their own open, candid conntenance, 
 behavior, and perhaps we may add, their fine personal ap 
 pearance, all combined, made her anxious to draw them 
 close to her heart. And they three sat together, and 
 there was a fast flow of words, and sometimes even a tear 
 would be started, as they were more particularly dwelling 
 upon the charm of their dear brother Willie. Mi-s. Sand- 
 ford, too, knew how to manifest sympathy in a way that 
 relieved, while it -encouraged the heart. There was always 
 a bright side to her view of life, and under the electric in 
 fluence of her voice, as she sits and talks to the two girls, 
 their hearts yearn towards her. Their confidence yields 
 to her open and truthful interest in them, and they begin 
 to feel that even their brother's absence will not leave them 
 entirely alone. 
 
 Eva is conversing with Mr. Bradford, while William 
 Herbert and young Roland are walking arm in arm in the 
 broad walk running in front of the piazza. The subject
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 219 
 
 of conversation need not now be revealed, but the name 
 of Blanchard could have been distinctly heard by those 
 seated near them, if they had not all been so absorbed in 
 subjects of more pleasing interest. At times, at the fur 
 ther end of their promenade they would stop, and while 
 Herbert, who was the chief speaker, would be addressing 
 his companion with much earnestness, the latter listened 
 with intense interest, while his countenance manifested a 
 troubled expression. At the close of one of their pauses 
 in their walk, Roland took the hand of Herbert, as though 
 thanking him for what he had revealed ; and then arm in 
 arm, they walked up to the rest of the company. 
 
 It was drawing near to ten o'clock, when the servant 
 who had been some little time watching from the landing 
 came up, and announced that the steamboat was in sight, 
 about two miles off. As soon as the intelligence was re 
 ceived, Eva arose and retired within the house, while 
 Bradford and Roland, with an instinct of delicacy, walk 
 ed towai'ds the gate. 
 
 " I suppose we had better say good-bye here," said 
 William, as the girls arose, each clasping one of his hands. 
 
 "Do you think so! " they replied, looking earnestly up 
 into his face, which was lightened with a smile.' 
 
 " Oh, William," said Mary, " how can you put on such a 
 cheerful countenance at such a dreadful moment ! 
 
 " Dear sister, do not let us make the worst of life's 
 trials. Let us thank our Heavenly Father for the many 
 pleasant scenes we have enjoyed together for the past few 
 weeks, and for the many comforts of the present moment. 
 I feel very sure that I leave you among those who will 
 yet prove dear friends to you. And he looked with mean 
 ing at Mrs. Sandford as he spoke. 
 
 " That is just what I have been telling them," she re 
 plied. " I for one, love them already, and I assure you 
 Mr. Herbert it shall not be my fault if the trust you re 
 pose in us is not verified." 
 
 " I thank you most heartily, madam, and now dear girls, 
 one good kiss. Come, Julia, the youngest first." 
 
 Julia had not only seized his hand, but was leaning with 
 her head upon his arm, clasping it tightly and giving full 
 vent to her overwrought feelings. As he said this, she 
 threw her arms about his neck.
 
 220 BOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 c,. 
 
 " Dear, dear, brother, I will be a good girl. I will mind 
 all you have told me, I will put down my selfishness, I 
 will curb my pride, 1 will read the Bible every day, and 
 try to do just what it says." 
 
 The young man was much affected with this simple out 
 pouring of her heart, the expression of readiness to 
 comply with his request made with reference to her best 
 good. It was a testimony to his faithful interests as a 
 brother. She believed it would comfort him more than 
 ought else she could say. He pressed her in a warm em 
 brace, and as her trembling lips met his, he only said : 
 
 " God bless you and keep you, dear Julia." 
 
 As the elder sister yielded the parting embrace, she 
 whispered in his ear before she gave the long, warm kiss. 
 What she said could only be guessed ft-om his reply. 
 
 " I will see her." 
 
 Immediately he entered the house, and the sisters walk 
 ed up to Mrs. Sandford, who had retired a little from the 
 circle during the parting scene. They saw the tears on 
 her cheek, and touched by this mark of feeling for them, 
 threw themselves upon her neck as if she had been a friend 
 they had always known. 
 
 Eva was walking the room as William entered ; she 
 paused and extended her hand as he came up neither 
 spoke. A moment they stook looking each other in the 
 face, each countenance manifesting sad, yet tender emo 
 tions. Should he embrace her ? He had never taken such 
 a liberty. The temptation was a strong one, but he re 
 membered they were to each other only as William Her 
 bert and Eva Stanley of former days ; and yet that ear 
 nest, confiding, tender look that was fixed upon him ! He 
 might never behold it again ! Would she resent it as a lib 
 erty unwarranted by their present or past relation ! Ho 
 raised her hand, and for a moment pressed it to his lips, 
 and then was about to turn away, when he saw the deep 
 emotion glowing from every feature of her lovely face. 
 
 " I cannot part so. You will not deny me a warmer 
 token ! " 
 
 And she did not.
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 The country residence of Mr. Blanchard was a very re 
 tired spot. A mountain ran up behind it, and shut off all 
 view of the river, and a woods intervened between it and 
 the highway, so that it was still life there all the time ex 
 cept when the thunder clouds settled over them there 
 was noise enough then. It was just such a place where 
 deeds of violence might be enacted, and days pass before 
 any tidings might reach the public ear. There was noth 
 ing particularly attractive in the view from it, without one 
 delighted in mountain scenery or woods, and even then, 
 they were both too near to appear to advantage. Moun 
 tains present indeed, a charm, when just far enough re 
 moved to put on their fairy covering of blue, and when the 
 vapors that rest upon their summits or creep along their 
 sides appear like smoke wreaths, and their graceful curves 
 throw a fine drapery around the huge blue monster ; but 
 when the scrub trees and the jagged rocks are plainly vis 
 ible, and the clouds are nothing but a fog or drizzle, the 
 beauty and romance are lost. The building, however, was 
 large and well finished, and all its appearances in good or 
 der. There was also a fine carriage path through the 
 woods, not a straight avenue, but winding gracefully, and 
 of sufficient width for vehicles to pass each other with 
 ease, and at the gate which led to the highway, was a 
 small tenement or porter's lodge. It was a neat building, 
 and was occupied by the gardener ; and as he had no 
 children the building was of sufficient size for his accom 
 modation. The establishment had once been the proper 
 ty of a gentleman from the West Indies, a Spaniard by 
 birth, but educated in this country, and married to au 
 English lady to whom he became introduced at Porto 
 Rico. His wife died very suddenly, and was buried with 
 great privacy on his own grounds ; and almost immedi-
 
 222 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 ately he left the place and went abroad. Strange stories 
 were soon circulated in reference to the death of his wife, 
 but as the people in the immediate vicinity were mostly 
 of the laboring class, and had enough business of their 
 own to attend to, and as the servants had been hired from 
 the city and returned there when the establishment was 
 broken up, no efforts were made to search into the truth 
 of the rumors which were started. But most people in 
 the vicinity believed that a foul deed had been commit 
 ted there, and in general shunned the place. Mr. Blanch- 
 ard had purchased it cheap, and probably never heard 
 that an ill name was attached to it, for he was not one 
 who would willingly encounter ghosts, or even run any 
 risk of such adventures, for with all his bluster and com 
 manding presence, he was at heart a coward. 
 
 As to the situation of the house, it suited him as well 
 as any place in the country. He had no taste for its beau 
 ties ; fine scenery would be lost upon him, as much as 
 rich music upon the car that could not distinguish discord 
 from harmony. He had purchased because he wanted a 
 " country seat." It was but a few miles from a landing 
 where he could have access to the steamboats, and it had 
 a name by which it was distinguished from the more com 
 mon residences of farmers. Woodbend was something a 
 little out of the common course ; there was not much 
 meaning to it, nor very significant of its position, but 
 there was certainly woods about it, and a road through 
 them, bending in its course ; whether it took . its name 
 from those two items, is not now known, nor of much 
 consequence. 
 
 The family of Mr. Blanchard had spent one season here, 
 and with the exception of Eva, not one of them fancied 
 it ; so that they made excuses for not wishing to go into 
 the country the present season. The younger daughter 
 was taking music lessons and did not wish to leave the 
 city on that account; and the eldest was taking lessons of 
 another description, from a gentleman ; and as her father 
 was very willing she should profit by them, he readily ac 
 quiesced in the ai'rangement already alluded to. Eva, 
 however, rather courted retirement. She had taken all 
 the lessons she desired from teachers, and being fond of
 
 LOOKING AKOTTHD. 223 
 
 improvement through books, felt it desirable rather than 
 otherwise, to be where interruptions need not be feared. 
 She had also a passion for the country. Its stillness 
 its freshness its variety had charms for her. A 
 walk through the lonely woods, with the leaves rustling 
 to her tread, and the wild bird's song, and the echo of 
 the lowing cattle in the distant field, were more engag 
 ing to her than the noise and throng and gaiety of the 
 city. But another inducement had been added of late, 
 to make a few months' residence in the country de 
 sirable the company of the Sandford's. She had for 
 some months been on terms of intimacy with them, and 
 when she learned their determinations to leave the city, 
 and that they had selected a place but a few miles' re 
 move from Mr. Blanchard's, she felt quite willing to yield 
 to his invitation. 
 
 Mr. Blanchard had put his own interpretation upon the 
 motives of Eva, and was for a time ha'ppy in the thought 
 that a rare opportunity would be afforded him in the 
 prosecution of his suit. Some abatements have been 
 made, as we have already seen, to these bright anticipa 
 tions, and although he is not yet hopeless, he has some 
 fears which did not trouble him when he started in the 
 sloop Polly, for Woodburn. 
 
 We have not yet introduced to the reader, Aunt Jemi 
 ma, the lady at the head of Mr. Blanchard's establish 
 ment. She was a second cousin of that gentleman, and 
 somewhat his junior in years. At the death of his wife 
 he had looked round for some person to fill the place in 
 his house thus left vacant, his daughters having no taste 
 for domestic duties. Aunt Jemima Richards was a wid 
 ow, who had been left without property, and was then 
 living with a brother-in-law, who, with his wife, were will 
 ing to receive her, as an act of kindness, but who by no 
 means courted the privilege. She was not of a congenial 
 disposition with her sister, a mild, amiable, artless and 
 good woman. Mrs. Jemima's views were of the lofty 
 kind. She had a great idea of her personal standing in 
 society. She had never lived in style, nor, from family or 
 any other attachment, could lay claim to consideration ; 
 and yet, to see her, with a queenly air, dressed as far as
 
 224 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 she could be in the extreme of fashion whatever that 
 might happen to be one who did not know might have 
 mistaken her for the relict of a millionaire. She was, 
 however, quite an efficient housekeeper in a certain way, 
 being a great stickler for fashionable custom, and keeping 
 a strict surveillance over servants looking upon them 
 all as so many outside barbarains, who would lie, steal, 
 and waste to any extent, and who could only be kept in 
 their place by hauteur of manner and cold disdain. She 
 had been in youth handsome, and retained a good share 
 of beauty even to the period of life at which she had ar 
 rived when Mr. Blanchard made proposals for her advance 
 ment to the station of housekeeper. 
 
 It was rather a shock to her nerves when the offer 
 was made. Mr. Blanchard was a widower ! Would it be 
 proper? Would it not also affect her position in society ? 
 Housekeepers in general were not thought much of. But 
 upon her brother-in-law hinting that in all probability 
 " she would in time be mistress of the establishment in 
 good right, and at any rate she would have plenty of 
 money at command to do as she pleased with," after a 
 great deal of talking, and guessing, and halting, she final 
 ly concluded to take the position. 
 
 Aunt Jemima was no fool, although the wisdom she 
 had was not exerted for any end that did not center in 
 self. She could tell a very plausible story, and had a tact 
 of winning the confidence of those she wished to gain to 
 her views. Mr. Blanchard's daughters were not strong 
 minded it must be said, nor was he himself gifted in that 
 way ; and Aunt Jemima knew just how to manage them, 
 so that it did not take long to enable her to wield almost 
 unbounded influence over them and him. It was by her 
 means that the country seat had been purchased, and 
 when she found the girls did not like the country, it was 
 through her persuasions they had been left to board in 
 the city. But she had other reasons besides the ostensi 
 ble ones, in accomplishing that feat. She wanted to have 
 Mr. Blanchard all alone to herself, for it may as well be 
 told at once, she had designs upon the good man. He 
 was not aware of them, for he had other and far different 
 designs in his own mind, as we have already seen.
 
 LOOKING AEOTTNT*. 225 
 
 Mrs. Jemima still thought herself handsome ; in fact, 
 when she surveyed herself in the glass, the color on her 
 cheeks seemed as fresh as ever; and as she did not use 
 glasses, which would have aided her vision materially, she 
 could not of course distinctly perceive those marks which 
 time in his stealthy tramp makes upon the polished brow 
 of youth ; all seemed to her as smooth and fair, and fresh 
 as ever, and if she could have the object of her desire all 
 alone by herself, with no rivals but such as country lasses 
 might afford of whom she had no fear it would be 
 almost a certainty that her design would be accomplished. 
 But the first baulk to her plans originated in the unex 
 pected consent of Eva to accompany them. She had sup 
 posed of course that a young lady like Eva, would prefer 
 to remain with her cousins, as they were called, and in as 
 wise a way as possible she hinted to Mr. Blanchard that 
 it would not be best to urge that is the word she used 
 
 to urge Eva to go ; " she feared she would be very 
 lonely." But the young lady did not need urging, and 
 seemed rather pleased that she could go ; and what was 
 more strange still to Mrs. Jemima, Mr. Blanchard mani 
 fested greater pleasure than she could have anticipated, 
 when the matter was fully arranged. This circumstance 
 aroused the sensitive feelings of the lady and set her 
 to thinking thinking backward and she began to get 
 some light upon matters by this process. She remember 
 ed now that a great change had been made by Mr. 
 Blanchard in his conduct towards that young lady for 
 some months past ; little attentions that he had paid her, 
 
 a manifest desire to do what was agreeable to her, af 
 ter consulting her, when Mrs. Jemima thought that she or 
 his daughters had a prior claim to that honor a readi 
 ness to wait upon her when she wished to go to the Sand- 
 ford's, or to go for her if she were spending an evening 
 there, instead of sending his son George. 
 
 Things began to grow husky to the eyes of the lady. 
 She did not like the view. The most convincing proof, 
 however, she had of the wrong way things were going, 
 was in Mr. Blanchard's sending her, Mrs. Jemima, up in 
 company with his son and the servants to the country, to 
 get things in readiness, and his waiting to accompany 
 10*
 
 226 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 Miss Eva himself. There was also quite a stir in her mind 
 the morning Mr. Blanchard had arrived from New York 
 in the good sloop Polly. He had come indeed, without 
 Eva, and that for the moment was a cause of joy ; but 
 when she found that Mr. Blanchard was in a disturbed 
 state of mind, caused by the fact that she was rejoicing 
 in, and that he had immediately ordered the carriage to 
 be in readiness, and that he himself was going on the im 
 portant errand of bringing the young lady home, she was, 
 to say the least, confounded. He was a careful man, she 
 knew, about some things, and it might be well for him as 
 her guardian, to be watchful ; yet this seemed like exer 
 cising unnecessary vigilance ; but she prudently restrained 
 her feelings, so far as it was possible for woman's nature 
 to do so. She however gave vent to a sly cut as he was 
 about ,to depart. 
 
 " Tell Miss Eva," she said, " that she must come by all 
 means, it's so dreadfully lonesome here without her? 
 There was a sarcastic or sardonic smile about her lips as 
 she said it, and quite a ruddy hue to her cheeks, as she was 
 fidgety and kept fanning herself, although it was quite 
 early in the day. Mr. Blanchard did not notice these symp 
 toms, and took the cut in good part, and faithfully deliv 
 ered his message as we have seen ; but Mrs. Jemima was 
 out of sorts all day, and did not recover full command 
 of her better feelings until Mr. Blanchard returned and 
 nobody with him. He made as fair a story as he could 
 invent as to the cause of his unsuccessful errand, but the 
 sharp eye of Mrs. Jemima clearly perceived the chagrin 
 which he tried to conceal. " There was a wheel within a 
 wheel," somewhere about the affair, and she meant to keep 
 an eye on the movement of both parties. 
 
 Mr. Blanchard left the house of Mr. Sandford in a very 
 uncomfortable state of mind, although he put on the best 
 face that the nature of things would admit ; he had time 
 however, to meditate upon the aspect of affairs. If he 
 had not been utterly blinded by the ardor of his feelings, 
 he might have learned that his suit for Eva Stanley was 
 hopeless ; he did not see it in that light, and had a firm 
 belief if she were once under his roof, and subject to no 
 influence but what he could bring to bear upon her, his
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 227 
 
 purpose would yet be accomplished. And while he was 
 busily employed in ardent thoughts on this important 
 matter, among other things which might be made use of, 
 it occurred to him that Aunt Jemima would be a wonder 
 ful aid ; he had unbounded faith in her power to accom 
 plish any end she set her heart upon. What if he could 
 get her to exert her influence with Eva ! in a covert way 
 to use the power which one of the age and experience of 
 his cousin must have over the mild and unsophisticated 
 girl, who already had learned, as he blindly supposed, to 
 yield to her advice as completely as did his own children. 
 It was a new thought, and he catched at it eagerly, and 
 the longer it stayed with him, the brighter and more im 
 portant it appeared, until he made up his mind that he 
 would take cousin Jemima into his confidence. Only one 
 impediment presented itself, and that was an apparent 
 disturbance of an internal nature, that had of late mani 
 fested itself on the part of that lady. He had noticed 
 something like a distance of manner ; she had not receiv 
 ed him as cordially as was her custom, and he had heard 
 her in rather sharper tones than usual, rebuking the cham 
 bermaid, and he noticed that she seemed quite flurried as 
 she stood in the door witnessing his departure in the car 
 riage. Something ailed her. She must be pacified, and 
 suddenly a happy thought occurred to him. He had pur 
 chased a breast pin, which he had designed giving to Eva, 
 when they should be alone riding in his can-iage. It 
 would be more confidential and effective, than if present 
 ed where she could at once exhibit it to others ; that op 
 portunity for the present was lost. What a charm it 
 would possess if presented to cousin Jemima ! He knew 
 she valued such things highly ; it would make a smooth 
 path for him to her good will, and no doubt quicken her 
 zeal to serve him. He felt really glad now, that things 
 had thus happened ; it would be all for the best, as most 
 events were, he found from past experience, and before 
 the good man had reached Woodbend, he became quite 
 composed in mind, though silent and thoughtful. The 
 gift, however, was not presented that evening, for on 
 reaching home he received a letter that informed him of 
 the need for his presence in New York, and he must go
 
 228 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 down that evening, and some two or three weeks elapsed 
 before his return. 
 
 When Mr. Blanchard came back, he looked as though 
 lie had been through a fit of sickness. Business had 
 troubled him ; stocks had fallen terribly, and were still 
 going down, and there were reasons now why a union 
 with Miss Eva would not only be most desirable, but al 
 most an absolute necessity. He was jn a desperate con 
 dition, and different measures must be resorted to. Mrs. 
 Jemima seemed alarmed at first at his altered appearance, 
 but he said, " it was nothing ; the weather had been very 
 warm in New York, and he had a great deal of running 
 about to do." He was very careful to speak in the bland 
 est tone, for he was now firmly resolved to try the ex 
 periment of engaging the powerful aid of Aunt Jemima 
 in the great work he had before him. Eva had not reach 
 ed home,' but was expected in a day or two. It would be 
 better to have all preliminary arrangements settled before 
 her return. So that very evening, after sitting for some 
 time beside the table at which the lady. was also seated, 
 he, busy with the paper, and she with her knitting, just 
 as she had put up -her work and was about retiring for the 
 night, laying down his paper, 
 
 " Cousin " Mr. Blanchard always gave her that title 
 when the children were not present, as they called her by 
 the more dignified title of aunt "I have a trifling pre 
 sent for you. I thought you might fancy it," and saying 
 so, he opened a small box, and handed it as gracefully as 
 he could towards her. 
 
 " A present for me ! Oh, how very kind ! " And as she 
 took out the box, pulled out her handkerchief at the same 
 time. She appeared deeply affected, blushed very much, 
 smiled graciously, just a passing smile it was only a 
 flush and then a most serious cast settled on her face, 
 and the teais started, or at least the handkerchief was 
 there to catch them. 
 
 " Oh, I never thought you cared enough for me to " 
 but the deeply affected lady could say no more, not then. 
 
 " Oh yes, why do you say so ? I am sure, cousin, I 
 have ever manifested an interest in you; put it on. 
 
 The lady had not as yet touched the precious article ;
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 229 
 
 she no doubt was waiting for the gentleman to take it out 
 and fasten it on the proper place. Mr. Blanchard, how 
 ever, to his credit be it said, had not practised gallantry 
 of that sort ; so, finding that if the breast pin was to bo 
 exhibited she must pei'form the delicate operation her 
 self, after some fumbling and blushing there at length it 
 shone. It was a showy article, though not very costly; 
 it sparkled brightly, however, in the light of the lamps, 
 and as Mrs. Jemima walked to the glass, and Mr. Blanch 
 ard held the light that she might take a fair survey, their 
 eyes met we mean in the glass and the lady gave 
 such an expressive glance of tenderness, that Mr. Blanch 
 ard felt a warm flush creeping over him, and his eye drop 
 ped and he set down the lamp. 
 
 " What shall I say to you for this beautiful, costly pres 
 ent. I never had a gift I valued so highly before," and 
 turning toward him offered her hand, which of course he 
 readily took. Whether she expected he would salute her, 
 or whether she designed offering the compliment to him, 
 it would have been difficult for a looker on to determine. 
 She was certainly highly excited, and the gentleman some 
 what nervous. He, however, must say something in re 
 sponse to her outburst of gratitude. 
 
 " Oh, it's a mere trifle, cousin, a mere trifle ; you have 
 been very faithful to my interests a mere trifle and 
 perhaps before long I may have a-favor to ask of you be 
 yond what I have ever had occasion to ask hitherto. I 
 hope you may have a pleasant night and pleasant dreams.' 
 
 " I don't think I shall sleep to-night," and as if by mu 
 tual consent, the hands dropped loose, and the scene for 
 the night had closed. 
 
 If Mr. Blanchard had not been absorbed with the one 
 idea that had taken possession of him, he might have 
 been somewhat startled at the peculiar emotion manifest 
 ed by the lady; but it all passed with him for gratitude, 
 and he was quite elated with the effect produced. He 
 felt very sure now that he would have a coadjutor who 
 would be all powerful. f 
 
 Mrs. Jemima Richards was right when she said, " she 
 could not sleep that night," at least partly right, for it was 
 a long, long time before she could allow herself even to
 
 230 LOOKING AEOTTNT). 
 
 shut her eyes ; that scene, so unexpected, so thrilling, was 
 not to be slept upon until it had been pondered and sift 
 ed in every imaginable way. But of what was it to be the 
 precursor? "some favor beyond what he had occasion 
 to ask hitherto ! " he wishes to smooth his way to my 
 heart. Well, I shan't trifle with him ; he is diffident, I 
 know. He thinks it a terrible thing, no doubt, to say the 
 word to say he loves me, and to ask for my regard. 
 We are neither of us young, and there need be no foolish 
 making believe, and saying no when I mean yes. I will 
 not try his feelings. If he asks me, I shall say yes at 
 once that I love him, and have loved him a long while. 
 But what will the children say ! Well, let them say. 
 Euphemia will no doubt have Peabody, and if the other 
 don't like it she can live with her sister, and George will 
 not care so long as he can spend his salary as he pleases ; 
 and he and I have always been good friends. But one 
 thing I shall do this place shall be sold. I am not go 
 ing to be cooped up here in the woods. I shall not say 
 any thing about that for a while not until the wedding 
 is over and that need not be delayed. We know one 
 another well enough, and I do not care to have much fuss 
 made about that a private wedding is just as well 
 and when the knot is tied let them grumble who may." 
 
 Now, with so many important matters running in one's 
 head, and with the eyes open too, and the moon shining 
 brightly, it could not be surprising if sleep kept one side. 
 It did come at last, however, for Mrs. Jemima awoke from 
 a very troubled dream in fact, it was nothing more nor 
 less than a contest with Mr. Blanchard, in which he 
 charged her with duplicity and forwardness, and with try 
 ing to cajole him into a marriage. The effect of the dream 
 was to cause the lady to start upright in her bed, and when 
 she found herself awake, to feel for the pin she had ta 
 ken it to bed with her. It was there fastened to her 
 night-dress. A sweet token that all was well the 
 dream was a trying one to be sure, but as they are al 
 ways to be interpreted by contraries, she was upon the 
 whole glad of it. She did not, however, care to be sub 
 ject to another such disturbance, not that night, and as 
 the birds were beginning their music, it would not have
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 231 
 
 been worth while to make any further ventures into dream 
 land. 
 
 " Good morning, cousin," said Mr. Blanchard, as he en 
 tered the breakfast room, and took his seat at the table. 
 " Had a pleasant night ? " 
 
 The lady colored a good deal ; she seemed somewhat 
 confused, cast her eyes down, and putting on a girlish, 
 maidenly manner, replied in tones as soft as she could 
 possibly modulate them, as though the scenes of the night 
 and of the last evening were of a very delicate nature, 
 and only to be referred to in the most confidential way 
 between them. 
 
 " Pretty much as I expected," and then raising her eye, 
 gave ons expressive look only one, and that but for a 
 moment, and the lids drooped again. As she handed the 
 cup to the gentleman there was another stealthy glance 
 of the eye ; it was full of meaning, but Mr. Blanchard did 
 not notice it, or it did not affect him as intended. He 
 was very fond of his coffee and his buttered toast, and 
 was at once absorbed in the matter of attending to his 
 physical necessities. While thus earnestly engaged, with 
 out even looking at the lady, he remarked : 
 
 " This is going to be a fine day. What do you say to a 
 ride ? " 
 
 " Are you going ? " still the same low, confidential tone. 
 She asked this question for the reason that Mr. Blanchard 
 seldom rode with the ladies. He had not been in the 
 habit of accompanying any of the family, and preferred his 
 sulky when disposed to go abroad. The proposal was 
 made by him on the same principle that the pin was giv 
 en. He wished to heap up all the obligations possible. 
 
 " Well, I had not thought of it. I seldom ride in the 
 carriage, you know perhaps you would like to take 
 Aunt Lizzie with you." Now Aunt Lizzie was the at 
 tendant of Eva, and no great favorite of Mrs. Jemima. 
 She was of herself a respectable person, and Mrs. Jemima 
 had often rode with her in company with Eva ; but the 
 idea that as matters now stood between Mrs. Jemima and 
 the head of the house, according to the views of the for 
 mer, she should be lowering herself to take as a compan 
 ion on a ride for pleasure, one who held the station of an
 
 232 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 inferior in the family j it was horrible, and not to be 
 thought of for a moment. 
 
 " Thank you." Mr. Blanchard looked up, for there was 
 something peculiar going on, the voice was broken and 
 the handkerchief hid the rest. 
 
 Now don't what's the matter ? " 
 
 Nothing." 
 
 " I had thought of going with you, but perhaps you 
 would prefer going alone." 
 
 " There is not much pleasure in riding alone." 
 
 " Well, if you prefer me to Aunt Lizzie, I am your 
 chap anything to accommodate." 
 
 "I certainly should." 
 
 " Then that's settled. I will tell Joe to have the car 
 riage ready." 
 
 There was a little something about this, not quite sat 
 isfactory to the lady, but she knew Mr. Blanchard had 
 some odd ways and queer notions, and had never been 
 particular in matters of gallantry. She was to ride with 
 him ! all alone with him ! The coachman would be out 
 side, secluded from the possibility of seeing or hearing 
 what was going on within. Perhaps ! It might possibly 
 be ! the favor he had to ask of her might be promulgat 
 ed ! "Well, she would be prepared ; he said, " that he de 
 signed proposing to accompany me oh, dear ! " and the 
 lady sighed a very heavy sigh ; what caused it the reader 
 must guess, for it is beyond our comprehension. 
 
 " It is not at all improbable that Mr. Blanchard had 
 some such design as Mrs. Jemima suspected, and that a 
 confidential communication was to be made ; but what 
 ever he had contemplated in that way was not carried 
 out ; in fact, the ride may have been a very agreeable one, 
 but not at all demonstrative. There was but little con 
 versation carried on ; the lady was silent, because she did 
 not care to say anything that might divert the mind of 
 her companion from the great point. She was in a state 
 of quiet expectancy, merely moving her hand occasion 
 ally the hand next to Mr. Blanchard, shifting it from 
 her lap to the cushion, and from the cushion back to her 
 lap it was ungloved and ready for any emergency, 
 and to tell the truth, it was a fair specimen of a fine lady's
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 233 
 
 hand, and had one or two rings on it. Mrs. Jemima had 
 taken good care of her hands, they had never been en 
 gaged in a work that could spoil their symmetry or deli 
 cate texture. 
 
 Mr. Bianchard was silent too, for the reason that he 
 was thinking very hard, and trying to bring himself to the 
 effort of a disclosure ; the more he thought, however, the 
 less resolute he became, and we cannot wonder that so it 
 was. In the first place, there was the natural shyness 
 which he possessed in common with other men about re 
 vealing heart affections ; then there was a very natural 
 fear that cousin Jemima, as well as the, world at large, 
 might think he was a little out of the way in seeking to 
 gain the hand of one so distantly removed by age, and 
 over whom he had been entrusted with parental guardian 
 ship. But stronger than all was the idea of humiliation. 
 To be obliged to ask the aid of another in such a delicate 
 matter, was even to Mr. Bianchard, callous as he was to 
 the finer feelings repulsive. Twist it in every way he 
 could, it would not present a pleasant aspect. The zeal 
 which had inspired him the day before, had relaxed, and 
 left him without support when the time for action arrived. 
 Although the ride, as has been said, was not demonstra 
 tive of enjoyment, yet as they drew near to Woodbend, 
 on their return, Mrs. Jemima felt assured that nothing of 
 consequence was likely to occur, she ventured to say : 
 
 " How agreeable is the face of nature ! " 
 
 They were then just entering the winding road through 
 the woods. 
 
 " You like the woods, then ? " 
 
 " Yes, there is a charm even about them ; do you not 
 think so ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, they're well enough ; a little shady in dark 
 days." 
 
 " Oh, well, to me they seem a screen, to shut our dear 
 home in from the cold, gaping, curious world." 
 
 Mr. Bianchard had never thought of that. It was a 
 new idea to him. He had wished sometimes, that there 
 were a few openings that would bring them a little more 
 to the notice of the passing world being screened off 
 and shut in, was not altogether so satisfactory ; he was
 
 234 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 glad, however, that things were so agreeable to cousin Je 
 mima, so he replied : 
 
 " Glad if you like it." 
 
 " Oh, you know 
 
 ' It is not that nature has shed o'er the scene, 
 Her purest of purple and brightest of green. 
 'Tis not the soft magic of streamlet or hill, 
 Oh, no, it is something more exquisite still ! ' 
 
 and then Aunt Jemima paused. 
 
 " Is that the whole of it ? " 
 
 " Oh, no." 
 
 " Go on, then, let's hear the rest it goes quite glib 
 I rather like it." 
 
 " Oh, not now some other time. Have you never 
 read it ? " 
 
 " Not I, at least, not that I know of." 
 
 " I think it exquisite." 
 
 " Well, here we are. I hope they've got dinner ready, 
 for I am hungry." 
 
 Mr. Blanchard was glad the carriage ride was over, and 
 glad upon the whole that he had not committed himself; 
 he was still free, with his own secrets within his own 
 breast, and the present relief he felt, made him doubtful 
 as to the propriety of the measure after all ; but he was 
 somewhat changeable in his feelings, and before evening 
 came, he forgot all about his misgivings, and resolved to 
 bring the matter forward at the first favorable opportu 
 nity : and by that he meant when circumstances should 
 assure him that Mrs. Jemima was in a pleasant mood ; and 
 he thought moreover, that it must be done before the ef 
 fect produced by the breast pin should die away. " Strike 
 while the iron is hot," he knew was a very safe maxim, 
 and he felt pretty sure that the iron was in a pretty fail- 
 state at present, for cousin Jemima was unusually atten 
 tive, and seemed to like to keep round him, and even to 
 anticipate little wants such as bringing his glass of bit 
 ters before dinner, and his box of cigars after the cloth 
 was removed trifling matters of themselves, no doubt, 
 but showing, as straws in a whirlwind, the direction of 
 the current.
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 235 
 
 That evening happened to be one of those witching 
 periods which often mark the summer months, the air 
 balmy and filled with fragrance, the moon brightly shin 
 ing, and the whippowil whistling with unwonted energy. 
 It was a night for lovers, young or old, and Mrs. Jemima 
 must have been affected by it in some way or other, for 
 she seemed restless. A while she would sit by the parlor 
 window, leaning her head upon her hand, while the el 
 bow rested on the hard sill ; possibly it was not so easy a 
 position as it seemed, for she arose soon, and walked out 
 as far as the garden gate, and Mr. Blanchard, who was 
 sitting on the stoop, with a cigar in his mouth, must have 
 thought she was bound for a walk there ; but she merely 
 paused when she reached the gate and looked up steadily 
 at the moon. Mr. Blanchard, no doubt thinking there 
 must be something going on up there, more than usual, 
 brought his chair from its leaning position down on its 
 four legs, and stooped forward a little to get a peep 
 the roof of his piazza obstructing his vision of the queen 
 of heaven ; there was no sign of an eclipse, nor any 
 thing unusual t^iat he could discover, so he leaned back 
 again, and went on with his cigar it was almost through. 
 Cousin Jemima, finding that she was not likely to have 
 any company where she was, returned to the stoop, and 
 having plucked a sprig of sweet briar as she ascended 
 the steps, handed it to Mr. Blanchard, and then walked to 
 the end of the stoop, and clasped her arms around the 
 pillar. That position not affording any very satisfactory 
 result, she quietly withdrew her arms, and walked with a 
 slow and measured step towards the hall door, and as she 
 was about to enter, asked in that soft, confidential tone, 
 which she had assumed ever since the last evening : 
 
 " Shall I order the lights ? " 
 
 Mr. Blanchard just then threw away the stump of his 
 cigar, and set his chair square down. 
 
 " Lights ? not for me. I don't care about them, cousin, 
 I want to have a little talk with you a little confiden 
 tial talk no, I don't care about light." 
 
 The lady did not reply, but led the way into the with 
 drawing room, opposite the one usually occupied, and 
 took a seat on a settee near a Avindow. Mr. Blanchard
 
 236 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 wishing of course to be near enough, so that conversa 
 tion could be heard without using the louder tones, en 
 sconced himself beside her ; probably not seeing very dis 
 tinctly, or confused by the excitement under which he 
 was just then laboring, did not allow as much as he ought 
 to have done for bulk. He had placed himself so very 
 near, that if she had not quickly have withdrawn a pretty 
 hand, that lay gracefully stretched out in readiness for 
 circumstances, it would certainly have been in a very un 
 pleasant predicament. It was unfortunate for Mr. Blanch- 
 ard, as the result showed, that he had not been a little 
 more careful, for that hand in its sudden change of posi 
 tion, without the least design on its part, came somehow 
 or other in such close contact with that of the gentleman, 
 that it would not have been manly in him to have retired. 
 There they were the position was harmless enough 
 under the circumstances, although to do Mr. Blanchard 
 justice, he would gladly have had both hands to himself. 
 The lady held a handkerchief in the other hand, which 
 she kept in motion ; it was a sort of relief to the agita 
 tion of her mind. 
 
 " Cousin," said Mr. Blanchard, " I have been for some 
 time wishing to have a free talk with you on a very deli 
 cate subject." There was quite a twitch to the delicate 
 hand that held his. " Perhaps you can anticipate what 
 the nature of that subject is. I have made up my mind 
 to change my situation." 
 
 In the softest tone, and scarcely above a whisper, Mrs. 
 Jemima replied : 
 
 " Have you told the children ? " 
 
 " No, I have not, nor do I intend to, until my plans are 
 accomplished, and then I have no doubt, with you to aid 
 me, and smooth the way, all can be made right enough." 
 
 Mrs. Jemima put up her handkerchief to her eyes, and 
 in broken accents replied : 
 
 " I had never thought, when I lost my dear husband, 
 that I could ever give my heart to another ; but if I can 
 make you happy " there was a pause here for a moment. 
 Mr. Blanchard was too astounded to speak ; his tongue 
 literally cleaved to the roof of his mouth, everything 
 looked double to him, and seemed to be moving ; but be-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. . 237 
 
 fore he could clearly comprehend the peculiar meaning of 
 her reply, the lady continued, and as she spoke, laid her 
 head upon his shoulder. m "I cannot trifle with you. I 
 know what you would say, and that it is hard for you to 
 say it. Your wish is complied with my heart is yours, 
 and has long been yours ; if I can only make you happy 
 is is all I ask." 
 
 Yes, if she could only do that ! Mr. Blanchard would 
 have thanked her, or any other of the human family, 
 for a more utterly confounded and utterly wretched man, 
 he did not think was there in existence. 
 
 He sat motionless and speechless, trying to gather up 
 his thoughts sufficiently to decide what to do. He had 
 heard of people getting into tight places he had him 
 self been in such difficulties but there was nothing he 
 had ever heard or conceived possible, that could be liken 
 ed to his present situation. If there could only be a cry 
 of fire, or even considerable of an earthquake, a whirl 
 wind, a flash of lightning anything that was not death 
 itself, would be a relief. Something, however, did occur 
 very opportune for his present dilemma, for a noise was 
 heard in the kitchen at the extreme end of the house, 
 and presently there was a rushing of servants through the 
 hall, accompanied with exclamations of terror. Of course 
 it would not do for Mrs. Jemima to be seen under present 
 circumstances, nor was Mr. Blanchard in any humor to 
 suffer martyrdom in the cause of gallantry he had suf 
 fered enough. So, as soon then, as the sound of approach 
 ing footsteps was heard, he sprang forward without say 
 ing " with your leave," and was at the door as two maid 
 servants rushed up. 
 
 " What's the matter ! What's the matter ! What's all 
 the noise for ? " 
 
 " Oh, it's matter enough, sir ! There's a man in the 
 kitchen." 
 
 " A man in the kitchen ! What sort of a man ? What 
 does he want ? " 
 
 " We don't know, sir, but he talks very strange." 
 
 " What did you let him in for ? " 
 
 " He came in of his own accord, sir, and stood in the 
 door and looked round the kitchen, and says he, ' Are you
 
 238 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 all alive here ! it's a dying woi'ld people are dying all 
 around,' and then he began to say, ' Hark, from the tombs 
 a doleful sound ! " We did not want to hear no more, so 
 we run away. He's surely crazy, Mr. Blanchard, and he 
 looks like a strong man." 
 
 Mr. Blanchard had no experience that could give him 
 faith to encounter persons who were without reason, and 
 so he very earnestly asked : 
 
 " Where is Joe ? " 
 
 " He is off to the tavern, sir." 
 
 " This was unpleasant, for there being no other man be 
 sides the master himself, it necessarily devolved upon him 
 to stand between danger and the females looking to him 
 for protection, and he must meet it at once. Just at that 
 moment a man was seen approaching from the further end 
 of the hall, having emerged from the kitchen. He walk 
 ed slowly, striking his cane on the floor as he advanced, 
 and talking to himself. It was certainly a case of mania, 
 and Mr. Blanchai'd was at his wits' end to know how to 
 manage it. He had a gun in the house, but it was not 
 loaded, and then he had some humane doubts as to the 
 propriety of thus dealing with the matter ; in fact, as the 
 stranger came near the light which one of the girls held 
 in her hand, his countenance was by no means terrifying. 
 He had, in fact, quite a respectable and even venerable 
 appearance. His foretop was bald and showed a firmly 
 arched crown ; the features of his face seemed somewhat 
 marred by exposure to the weather, but they were well 
 formed, and gave assurance that in youth or under more 
 favorable circumstances, he must have passed for good 
 looking. 
 
 " The girls," said he, " seem afraid of me ; la, I would 
 not hurt anybody. People die fast enough without any 
 one's taking pains to get them out the way. They say 
 you are a rich man I don't know but you are your 
 riches can't save you from being put under the clods of 
 the valley. We are a dying race can you tell me how 
 we are to help ourselves ? I am a poor man, and you are 
 a rich man, or people say you are. Now, if your riches 
 can't save you from getting into the sexton's hands, what 
 good are they going to do you ? Shan't I write you an
 
 LOOKING ABOTnO). 239 
 
 epitaph ? I am handy at that ; give me pen, ink and paper 
 and I will write you quite a showy one, extolling your 
 virtues, if you are distinguished for any, and sheering 
 over your faults, and all I ask is a glass of eider, and a 
 night's lodging in the barn." 
 
 During the whole of this scene, Mrs. Jemima, who had 
 waked from her delirious dream by the sudden jumping 
 up of Mr. Blanchard, arose quickly and followed him, de 
 termined to share every danger with the man to whom 
 she had just given her heart, although a little chagrined 
 that he did not manifest more reasonable excitement on 
 receiving the gift. Fearful lest he should venture his 
 precious person into the kitchen, or elsewhere, within the 
 grasp of some dangerous outlaw, she clutched fast to 
 one arm and kept whispering, " be careful, dear," " do be 
 prudent, for my sake," " remember your life is doubly pre 
 cious, now." Mr. Blanchard did not think so ; it had nev 
 er before seemed to him so little worth ; he did not know 
 but it was completely spoiled that is, all that remained 
 of it and he did not like being held so tightly, espec 
 ially as there were other persons present. Whether the 
 girls had noticed the interest Mrs. Jemima took in the 
 gentleman, is doubtful ; they were at first really frighten 
 ed, and when the foundation for fear was removed, they 
 began to be much amused. The stranger, however, no 
 ticed that the lady was anxious and troubled. 
 
 "You need'nt be at all afraid, madam. I don't mean to 
 hurt your husband, or anybody else ; he's big enough to 
 master such as I am. Lord, what poor creatures we are ; 
 we are all afraid of dying, and yet we have got to. That 
 pretty face of yours has got to be shrivelled all up. Did 
 you ever see a skull? if you have not I can show you one. 
 Here, girls, hold that candle." So he commenced haul 
 ing round a bag that was slung upon his back, apparent 
 ly with the design of producing- the article ; there was, 
 however, a general exclamation of alarm Mrs. Jemima 
 running off into the parlor and the girls towards the 
 kitchen, where they had the satisfaction of seeing the head 
 of the coachman peeping into the hall, and endeavoring 
 to ascertain what caused such unusual disturbance.
 
 240 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " Oh, Joe, do come ! Here is a crazy man, and Mr. 
 Blanchard wants you to put him out." 
 
 With that Master Joe steps forward, and when near 
 enough to be recognized by the stranger, the latter puts 
 out his hand. 
 
 " Well, here I am. I am alive, and that is more than 
 many poor devils can say. You ain't dead yet, I see. 
 Can't you give me a cup of sanctum and a place on the 
 mow ? I've come all the way from Mellbourne ; they are 
 dying there like rotten sheep two funerals in one day. 
 I don't see but we shall all die we have got to, there is 
 no help for it. That man there is rich, no doubt;. his 
 riches wont save him, the worms will have him yet. Man 
 is born unto trouble as the sparks fly upward." This was 
 said while walking back in company with the coachman, 
 who knew him well, and to whom Mr. Blanchard was 
 quite ready to commit him. He heard, however, the 
 quotation from scripture, and thought within himself 
 the man may be crazy, but he has uttered a terrible truth. 
 " Man is born to trouble, and there is no telling where or 
 when he may get into it." 
 
 Mr. Blanchard, not caring to venture into the presence 
 of Mrs. Jemima, betook himself to the piazza, and there 
 tried to arrange his thoughts. He was in a dilemma of 
 the worst kind. His grand plan for gaining what he 
 thought would be a valuable assistant, had failed, and his 
 eyes were opened to the fact that while he had designs 
 upon the heart of another, his own was ready to be grasp 
 ed in a way not at all to his mind. But what was he to 
 do ? If matters were left as in their present condition, 
 it would be taken for granted that the bargain was made ; 
 to that he would never consent. She must be undeceived. 
 But how to do it ! What would she say ! What would 
 she do ! How could they live together after this ! Again 
 and again he cursed his stupidity in not being more 
 awake to demonstrations on her part. Something must 
 be done, however. Matters could not be worse that is, 
 so far as he could see. Suddenly springing from his chair 
 he was about to seek the object of his solicitude, when ho 
 perceived her standing in the doorway, close by where he 
 had been sitting. Somewhat startled, for he almost feared
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 241 
 
 he had been talking aloud to himself instead of thinking, 
 so very exciting were the interests he had been ponder 
 ing, he exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh, it is you, is it ! " 
 
 " Yes, dear, did you want me ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do want you. I want to say a word or two." 
 
 So Mrs. Jemima avoiding the sitting-room, where lights 
 had been placed, passed quietly into the one where the 
 scene so full of joy to her, had so recently transpired, and 
 placed herself in the identical spot she had previously oc 
 cupied. Mr. Blanchard, to avoid all collision the second 
 time, took the precaution to place himself upon a chair at 
 sufficient distance to prevent any danger of having his 
 shoulder made a pillow for any body's head ; his hands he 
 thrust into his pockets. 
 
 " Cousin Jemima, I wish to have an explanation of mat 
 ters between us. I fear you did not understand me." 
 
 " Oh, yes, dear, I understand perfectly I know what 
 you meant. I knew it was a trial to you to express all 
 your feelings it was not necessary we have both been 
 through with such scenes before; we are neither of us 
 children. I am satisfied if you are ; all I want is to make 
 you happy. I felt a little anxious, to be sure, about the 
 children, but you relieved my mind on that point." 
 
 Mr. Blanchard trembled all over ; he saw clearly that 
 the case was a desperate one. To tell a woman to her 
 face who had thus exposed her feelings, that he did not 
 care for her that his only design was to engage her in 
 terest on his behalf, in favor of another, was putting a 
 little more on human nature at least, on woman's nature, 
 than it would stand. How could he do it ! There would 
 no doubt be an outcry ; there might be fainting, or other 
 disagreeable events. Servants must be called, perhaps 
 the doctor sent for, and the whole town be made aware 
 of the ridiculous concern. So he sat in silence more con 
 founded than ever a very miserable man, and with no 
 prospect ahead, of any relief. Mrs. Jemima, however, had 
 more to say. 
 
 " I suppose I might have put you off as young girls are 
 apt to do, while they wished to say yes, at the same 
 time ; but it did not seem to me to be dignified. You 
 11
 
 242 LOOKING AEOinSTD. 
 
 need not disturb your mind about explanations. I know 
 men in general are loth to expose their feelings, even to 
 one they love, and I know that to you it must be very 
 trying, for you never talk much, but your kind attentions 
 have been too marked for me to mistake their true mean 
 ing" 
 
 Mr. Blan chard no doubt heard all these words, although 
 spoken in a low, confidential tone ; but whether he under 
 stood them is doubtful, for he was in such a collapsed 
 state that his mind went wildering about like a small boat 
 in a gale of wind without a rudder. He perspired freely, 
 breathed thick wanted to say something, but had not 
 the coui-age to do so ; at length driven to desperation, 
 his voice found utterance. He spoke in quite a quick and 
 hard tone. 
 
 "Jemima!" 
 
 " What, dear ! " and the lady arose and stood by him, 
 and placing her hand upon his head, began to smooth 
 down his side locks. 
 
 " Do, for goodness sake " jerking his head quickly away. 
 " Don't, I don't like anybody meddling with my hair," 
 and starting from his seat, he walked out on the piazza, 
 drew forth a cigar, and lighting it, commenced walking 
 up and down with more rapid steps than he was accus 
 tomed to take. 
 
 Mrs. Jemima thinking this one of his odd streaks, though 
 a little nettled at first, hushed down all bad feelings by 
 consoling herself with the idea that when he was once 
 buckled to her, or she to him, she could soon cure all such 
 eccentricities. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 
 
 The village of Woodburn was in quite a commotion, 
 in consequence of the rumor that had become pretty gen 
 erally spread through the place, and which had been hint 
 ed in a previous chapter, that the Rev. Doctor Ransom
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 243 
 
 had received a call from the city. The Presbyterian par 
 ish was more particularly concerned, but the reverend 
 gentleman had by his wise and prudent management, his 
 conciliatory manners, and his enlarged and liberal views 
 in regard to denominational differences, so won the good 
 will of all classes, that the whole circle of religious socie 
 ties in the vicinity were aroused by the intelligence ; and 
 it was a common topic of interest in many families that 
 never attended his ministrations except on extra occa 
 sions and that not because they did not relish his 
 preaching, but for the reason that he had always enjoined 
 upon all with whom he had come in contact, that it was 
 the bounden duty of Christians to be in their own places 
 of worship, and by their presence and aid do all in their 
 power to further the cause of Christ in the peculiar circle 
 with which they had connected themselves. That the 
 church should be broken up into so many different sects, 
 he indeed lamented ; but since it seemed impossible for all 
 minds to comprehend alike the teachings of the word of 
 God, as to matters of minor importance, it need be no 
 hindrance to the exercise of brotherly love, nor to the 
 building up of the walls of Zion, if each in that part of 
 the wall allotted to them worked faithfully and with an 
 earnest zeal. The structure would be completed in time, 
 and perhaps more beautiful from its variety. 
 
 No sooner had the tidings reached the ears of Rev. Mr. 
 Janeway, than he resolved at once to ascertain the truth, 
 by a personal call. To him the news was not only a sur 
 prise, but a source of alarm. He had enjoyed such un 
 alloyed pleasure from the intimacy which now for some 
 years had been maintained with this fellow watchman, 
 and he received so much benefit, too, both in his own spir 
 itual growth and through that, in the spiritual growth of 
 his especial charge, that he could not think of losing such 
 a fi-iend and helper, without at least a manifestation of , 
 his sincere regret. 
 
 As he was about leaving his home for the purpose of \ 
 making the call, a gig drove up to his door, and two gen 
 tlemen alighted. One of them at once he recognized as 
 an old classmate in Columbia College, and he stepped
 
 244 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 . 
 
 from his door and walked to his gate to meet and wel 
 come him. 
 
 "My good friend Anderson, how very glad I am to see 
 you." 
 
 " Ah, Janeway, my good fellow, how are you ? Well, I 
 know from your looks. You ministers up here are hav 
 ing pretty nice times good living and all that." 
 
 " We have no reason to find fault with the living ; it is 
 plain, but wholesome and plenty of it." 
 
 " My friend, Mr. Julius Highfly, from New York, Rev. 
 Mr. Janeway." 
 
 " Please walk in, gentlemen, and I will have your horse 
 attended to." 
 
 " Oh, no, my dear fellow, we can't stop but a few min 
 ute, but Highfly and myself, having come up on a little 
 business for our church, I thought I could not leave the 
 place, without calling to say how do you do. We will go 
 in though, and sit a few minutes." 
 
 As the gentlemen were about taking seats, Mr. Janeway 
 remarked : 
 
 " I understood you just now, as saying you were up here 
 on church business. Has it anything to do with the ru 
 mor that is spread about here, of a call to the city having 
 been given to Mr. Ransom ? " 
 
 " Is there such a rumor ? " 
 
 " I have heard it this morning, and was about going to 
 call on brother Ransom, to ascertain the truth of the mat 
 ter." 
 
 " I believe we can save you that trouble ; don't you 
 think so, Highfly ? " 
 
 " We can, most assuredly, reverend sir, having been ap 
 pointed a committee Mr. Anderson and myself to de 
 liver the call of the Presbyterian church in Street, 
 
 to the Rev. Doctor Ransom, of Woodburn. We have 
 this morning put said call into his hands ; so, reverend sir, 
 you see that rumors are not always to be despised ; some 
 times they tell the truth." 
 
 " In this case I should think Madam Rumor had antici 
 pated the truth a little. She has been reporting the mat 
 ter for some days, when, as you now say, Mr. Highfly, you 
 have only this morning absolutely placed the document
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 245 
 
 into the hands of Mr. Ransom. Do you think, gentlemen, 
 that he will accept ? " 
 
 " No doubt of it, not the least doubt of it in the world," 
 said Mr. Highfly. " Why should he hesitate ? " 
 
 " Oh, I cannot say. Perhaps he has given you reason 
 for such assurance ; there may be a cause for willingness 
 on his part to listen favorably to such a proposition ; but I 
 should have doubted it, if you were not so positive." 
 
 " Positive ! " said Mr. Highfly. " Why, my good sir, 
 only think of the proposition itself. One of the most re 
 spectable congregations in the city, and a salary of twen 
 ty-five hundred dollars a year, and the perquisites, in the 
 way of presents and marriage fees, quite considerable ; 
 and more than that, sir, a larger sphere, a greater stimu 
 lus to mental exertion. He can have but a small congre 
 gation here, and not much to encourage mental effort. I 
 presume the number of respectable hearers in such a place 
 as this, must be very inconsiderable." 
 
 Mr. Jane way might have enlightened the gentleman on 
 some of these points, but he knew it would be difficult to 
 make one so ignorant of the peculiarities of the country 
 as he appeared to be, comprehend the true state of things, 
 he therefore merely replied : 
 
 " If Doctor Ransom should feel it his duty to leave us, 
 here, I shall certainly regret it, not only for my own sake, 
 but also for the whole town. I think he would be a great 
 loss." 
 
 " That remark of yours, my dear sir," said Mr. Ander 
 son, " speaks well for you and the doctor also. It is not 
 always that our two sects get on so well together ; but I 
 am glad to hear you speak so well of him. I think.he is 
 the very man for us, and I think, my good sir, we shall get 
 him." 
 
 " How came you, if it is a proper question, to know 
 about Doctor Ransom ? Has he preached for you ? " 
 
 " Not exactly, but some of us heard him preach a ser 
 mon before the Synod, and it struck us as something out 
 of the usual track something more than common so 
 the session of our church invited him to supply our pul 
 pit for the next Sabbath. He declined, however, for some 
 reason or other, I forget now what it was, but we meant
 
 246 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 to keep track of him, and therefore on two different Sab 
 baths, within the last six weeks, we have sent up two 
 committees of three each of our leading men, to hear him, 
 you see, in his own home, when he would not be expect 
 ing company, and would, of course, have no chance to 
 make extra preparations." 
 
 " Friend Anderson, allow me to interrupt you. You 
 have altogether mistaken the character of Doctor Ran 
 som if you suppose he could, under any circumstances, 
 make, as you say, extra preparations." 
 
 " Not under any circumstances ? " Q 
 
 " I am very confident that my assertion is correct. I do 
 not believe it would be possible for Doctor Ransom to put 
 a single sentence or word in any sermon he was writing, 
 with reference to its pleasing this or that man, or this or 
 that audience, any further than this. If he knew for a 
 certainty, that persons who differed from him or his de 
 nomination on minor points Episcopalians, or Metho 
 dists, or Baptists, or even Roman Catholics would be in 
 attendance at the house of worship where he officiates, he 
 would avoid any expressions that might wound their sen 
 sibilities this I know he is conscientious about. But as 
 to making an effort, he can never be induced to aim at it. 
 1 speak now, in reference to the remark of yours, that, 'if 
 he expected company, he would wish to make extra prep 
 arations.' " 
 
 " Oh, well, friend Janeway, you know we all, on cer 
 tain occasions, like to appear to the best advantage, * to 
 put our best foot forward,' it is natural you know." 
 
 Mr. Janeway- did not reply* to this remark ; he had said 
 what he thought all sufficient to vindicate the character 
 of his friend from a charge not very honorable, either to 
 his visitor, or the gentleman whom it implicated ; but 
 there was a question which suggested itself to him, and 
 which he felt might as well be put now as ever, and 
 therefore, after a few moments he asked : 
 
 " How is it, friend Anderson, that you have ascertained 
 that there was any special reason why a call should be 
 given to Doctor Ransom ? There certainly is no dissat 
 isfaction with him on the part of his people, or I think I
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 247 
 
 should have heard of it ; and from my intimacy with him, 
 I feel very sure he is not dissatisfied with his people." 
 
 " That is the very reason," replied Mr. Highfly, " that 
 we have selected Mr. Ransom. You see, my dear sir, we 
 want to get the best, the very best man that can be found, 
 and don't you see, my good sir, that the surest sign that 
 one can have that a minister is the right man for us, is 
 that he is popular with his own people ; and the more they 
 don't like to part with him, the more we want to get him ; 
 don't you see, sir ? " 
 
 " I believe I understand you, Mr. Highfly, and yet, I 
 should think in looking around for one to fill a vacant pul 
 pit, it would be the most natural course, and the most 
 proper one too, that those ministers should be applied to, 
 who may not have a charge on hand, or to some one who, 
 for peculiar reasons, may wish to change his relations as a 
 minister." 
 
 " Ah, well, my dear sir," replied Mi*. Highfly, tapping 
 his snuff box, preparatory to handing it round, an admir 
 able way in old times of smoothing over difficulties, 
 " You know there is in general I say in general, because 
 there may be exceptions there are always exceptions to 
 a general rule, but in general, and where you come to ex 
 amine into the case, you will find that the reason folks are 
 out of a situation, is the very reason you don't want them ; 
 don't you see, my good sir ? " 
 
 " But there are many young men who have completed 
 their preparatory studies, and have never yet had the 
 charge of a people." 
 
 " That is true, sir. There .are a good many such, and 
 we have had quite a number on trial, but you see, my dear 
 sir, in looking round such a city as ours, you will find 
 a large number of churches scattered here and there, of 
 different denominations to be sure, and yet separated by 
 such slight marks of difference, that really one would be 
 puzzled in making a choice, as to which he should attend ; 
 that is, in which he would hear the truths preached which 
 he thought of most consequence. There is, for instance, 
 the Presbyterian like our own, the Dutch Reformed, and 
 the Scotch Reformed. Now, these different churches are, 
 some of them, so contiguous to each other, that it is as
 
 248 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 easy for many of the congregations to attend one, as the 
 other. Now, you see, my dear sir, how that works. To 
 keep your people together and build up your church, you 
 must have a popular minister, and you must have a hand 
 some church, and you must have fine music. There is a 
 good deal of tact and management to keep things as they 
 should be ; we have to look round every which way, in a 
 city like ours, and keep our eyes wide open." 
 
 The reverend gentleman had known something of the 
 city in foi-mer days, having been born and brought up 
 there, and occasionally now, each year, spending several 
 days there. He was well aware that in business, compe 
 tition exerted a mighty influence, and for the benefit of 
 all. He believed also, that it had influence over many in 
 social life, and that, sometimes for good, and sometimes 
 for evil ; but that it should have insinuated itself into the 
 church of Christ, and have gained such power, as to be 
 able. openly to boast itself as one of the principal aids in 
 building up the holy cause, was a new light to him, and 
 not a very pleasant one, and being somewhat startled by 
 the revelation, he was so absorbed in thought, that he 
 made no answer when the gentleman came to a pause, 
 and the latter after a few moments' silence, commenced 
 again. 
 
 "You know, reverend sir, a city congregation wants 
 preaching of a peculiar cast ; they want the truth to be 
 sure, but it must come to them in the best dress ; the taste 
 of the people becomes acute and refined, and to put a 
 man in the pulpit of mere common abilities why, you 
 see they can't stand it. They must have the best men 
 that can be got, and they are willing to pay for them." 
 
 Mi*. Anderson had been for some time a listener, and 
 while his companion was talking, he kept his eye on the 
 reverend gentleman, as though curious to mark how the 
 sentiments advanced, were received ; and as the last idea 
 came out, he could not but notice the quiet smile playing 
 round the handsome mouth of his friend Janeway. 
 
 " I tell you what it is, Highfly, it ain't best for us to say 
 too much about our having the best men. We have some 
 men of talent no doubt, and we have some as much the 
 other way. My friend Janeway, you see, knows the city
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 249 
 
 and its ways pretty well ; but tell us plainly, Janeway, 
 what you think. You know what we city folks want, and 
 you know Doctor Ransom. Is he not the very man we 
 ought to have ? " 
 
 " I can give you my opinion, friend Anderson, but it 
 may not coincide with yours. As to Doctor Ransom, I 
 believe him to be a true gospel minister. He has a large 
 store of general knowledge ; he is an industrious student. 
 He has a more than ordinary share of common sense, and 
 has studied mankind as well as his Bible, and can see 
 through a false guise and detect erroneous views, as quick 
 ly as any one I ever knew ; but he has a large heart, and 
 will not condemn a man, or a sect, because he may see 
 some things he does not approve. If you expect in him 
 a preacher who will be strenuous in holding up his own 
 denomination, or denouncing others, you will be disap 
 pointed. If you expect a preacher who will give you 
 what is styled a fine discourse, you will be disappointed 
 there, too. If you expect a man who will enter heartily 
 into the measures now pursued, for the moral reformation 
 of mankind, you will be disappointed. His only hope of 
 redeeming man from the power of sin, is in the spirit of 
 God through the preaching of the gospel. Jesus Christ 
 will be held up first and last, as the power of God unto 
 salvation, the only Redeemer, the healer of the nations. 
 His blood the only sacrifice, his spirit the only purifier. 
 He has studied the human heart, his own as well as oth 
 ers, and he knows how deceitful it is, and how much more 
 ready we are to engage in outward acts, and to be diligent 
 in working, than in purifying ourselves from sin, and 
 bringing every act and thought into obedience to the will 
 of Christ. So much for my opinion of him. Now as to 
 being the man you want, you can now as well answer that 
 question as I can ; but my opinion is, that there is nothing 
 peculiar in the character or intelligence of a congregation 
 in the city, that requires such a different style or superior 
 abilities, than is needed or fully appreciated here ; in fact, 
 I do not believe there are more persons in the largest con 
 gregations in the city, as able to analyze a discourse from 
 the pulpit, and to judge understandinglv of its merits, 
 11*
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 th:m Doctor Ransom has among his audience on every 
 Sabbath day. , 
 
 When the reverend gentleman paused, the two visitors 
 looked at each, other in silence, Mr. Anderson merely 
 nodding his head and winking, as much as to say he 
 has got the right of it. Mr. Highfly, not exactly falling 
 in with the views and feelings of his companion, made no 
 response. There were some things which had been said 
 relating to the peculiarities of the gentleman, whose chai'- 
 acter as a preacher had been thus unfolded, that rather 
 startled him. Mr. Highfly was strong for an " active Chris 
 tianity," by that, meaning strenuous efforts among its out 
 works. He had more faith in the machinery of religion, than 
 his friend Anderson. He was for breaking down the strong 
 holds of sin and error, by making battle on their more prom 
 inent manifestation ; he was for driving intemperance out 
 of the land, and licentiousness, and all such demonstrative 
 evils, vi et armis. He would have the terrible heresy of 
 Rome held up in all its abomination, and the preacher, like 
 a public crier, denouncing it by name, and condemning all 
 its followers to worse flames than those of purgatory. Mr. 
 Highfly was strong against intemperance, and in his zeal 
 to put down that evil, would unite heart and hand with a 
 reformed drunkard, whose conversion to cold water had 
 not yet stood the test of a month, and would hold him up 
 as a model, and urge him to tell in public his experience, 
 and seemed to feel that this external reformation covered 
 over all other delinquencies, and even obviated the neces 
 sity of a change of heart at least, that important item 
 was left out of sight. In fine, Mr. Highfly was one of 
 your, "go-ahead, knock-down, clear-the-road, effervescing 
 Christians, who are ever ready to denounce evil and evil 
 doers, and even their fellow Christians, who, according to 
 their view, do not " come up to the help of the Lord 
 against the mighty." And Anderson knew this, and was 
 not a little pleased to learn that the minister they had se 
 lected, would not be likely to fall in with such views." 
 
 " And now," said Mr. Janeway, who, having replied to 
 their queries, found they had not for the moment any 
 thing further to say, " I have answered your inquiry re-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 251 
 
 "Specting Doctor Ransom ; may I have the liberty of put 
 ting a question to you, gentlemen ? " 
 
 " By all means," said Anderson. 
 
 " Certainly, certainly, by all means," said Mr. Highfly, 
 " We will answer you, sir, with a great deal of pleasure." 
 
 " Then, gentlemen, I must say I cannot comprehend how 
 it has happened that you should have been induced to 
 place a call in the hands of my brother Ransom ? You 
 say he was invited to preach for you, but under the cir 
 cumstances declined, which I think was a fair hint that he 
 did not wish to be 'considered a candidate for your favor. 
 And you, likewise, have acknowledged that you had no 
 reason to believe there was any dissatisfaction, on his part 
 with his people, nor on the part of the people with him. 
 Here was a, pastor and people satisfied with each other, 
 and if you had inquired, you would have ascertained that 
 the relation was one that could not be broken without in 
 flicting a severe trial upon a respectable Christian society. 
 Now, upon what grounds as Christians and gentlemen, 
 have you under all these circumstances, made this call ? " 
 
 For a few moments there was no reply ; at length Mr. 
 Highfly responded. He had some preliminary " hems " 
 to go through with by way of clearing obstructions, and he 
 had two or three pinches of snuff to dispose of, besides 
 keeping one between his thumb and forefinger, in readi 
 ness for an emergency. 
 
 " Tour question, my dear sir, I must say, is rather hard 
 to answer satisfactorily, that is, considering the way you 
 have stated the case; you have placed us on trial as 
 Christians and gentlemen. Really, my dear sir,' you see 
 Mr. Anderson and myself are merely acting for others 
 mere agents." 
 
 " Oh, sir, you must not misunderstand me. I had no 
 design to bring any charge against you two gentlemen, 
 for the mere fact of your having acted for the society you 
 represent; but you must, of course, know the reasons 
 which influenced your people to make an offer to a settled 
 pastor, who in no way gave you cause to suppose he was 
 ready for any such proposal." 
 
 " What reason, my good sir, would we need, besides 
 the fact that we wanted a pastor, and believed the rever-
 
 252 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 end gentleman in question was such an one as would suit 
 us." 
 
 " You don't understand, Highfly," interrupted his com 
 panion ; "the reason,you give is merely the bare, naked fact. 
 We wanted a minister, and we thought after looking round, 
 that the one we have selected, would suit us ; but back of 
 this stands the question, ' is it honorable to take leading 
 measures in breaking up a relation a happy one, be 
 tween pastor and people is it doing to others as we 
 would wish them to do to us ? ' " 
 
 "Oh, but my good sir, that is no principle to be guided 
 by in such matters. We might very justly on the same 
 principle say to this people here, if they should make ob 
 jections to our taking their minister, ' you are selfish ; 
 you, a small people in a small church, and exerting an in- 
 fluence over a narrow sphere, want to detain a man in your 
 cramped condition, in an out of the way place, when we 
 are ready to give him an opportunity to exert a large in 
 fluence.' Do you not see ? " 
 
 "But, Mr. Highfly," said Mr. Janeway, "that is not the 
 question which I wished to have answered. In order to 
 make myself understood, I will state a case in point. You 
 are without a clerk ; you want one. You want a young 
 man of honest principles, and industrious, and intelligent. 
 Your friend Anderson, has a young man whom he esteems 
 highly, and with whom he is perfectly satisfied ; you know 
 this, and have reason to believe that the young man is 
 perfectly satisfied too, and has no thought of leaving his 
 employer ; but you want him because you believe he has 
 the qualifications you require. You say nothing to Mr. 
 Anderson, but on meeting this young man in the street, 
 you take him by the button, ' now, here 'my good fellow, 
 I want to say a word to you. How much does Anderson 
 give you ? ' ' 
 
 " ' Seven hundred dollars a year.' " 
 
 " * I want a young man, and I think you are the one I 
 want. Come into my employ, and I will give you twelve 
 hundred.' " 
 
 " Now what would friend Anderson think of such man 
 agement ? " 
 
 Anderson looked at Highfly, and Highfly at him one
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 253 
 
 with a quizzical smile at the corner of his mouth, and the 
 other with a serious scowl upon his brow, and taking snuft 
 rapidly. Mr. Janeway saw the dilemma in which he had 
 placed them, especially the sanguine Mr. Highfly. He 
 was conscious of having stated a strong case, and might 
 have gone on with some comments that would have shown 
 how it met the point at issue, but he felt willing to let the 
 matter rest, so far as he was concerned, and leave the con 
 clusions to their own consideration. And Mr. Highfly 
 very soon made manifest by what method of reasoning he 
 at least was able to get round, or own the case so pointed 
 ly put. 
 
 " My dear sir, I confess in the matter of hiring a clerk 
 in the way you have stated it, friend Anderson would 
 have just cause of complaint ; but that would be a sub 
 ject which merely concerned two individuals. In choos 
 ing a minister, a large number of persons are interested, 
 .and the question is not whether some are pleased, and 
 others displeased, but we ai-e to look at the results. In 
 the church, the question to be answered is this ; ' what 
 will accomplish the greatest amount of good to the larg 
 est number of persons ? ' Individual feelings must be 
 overlooked. In looking round over the church ' and the 
 world, to see how we can best accomplish good, we can 
 not stop to consider what this man will say, or that man 
 will say. How this plan may affect the feelings or the in 
 terest of certain persons, or societies, or that plan may 
 excite the prejudices of a certain class, and raise in their 
 minds bitterness and hostility. The church is militant, and 
 in a state of war, you know. The question is, not who 
 or how many may be injured, but how the victory shall be 
 obtained ! Dwellings must be burned, fields must be 
 trampled over, forests must be cut down and the most 
 beautiful grounds ravaged and dug up into fortifications. 
 It may be very hard upon individual families, and even 
 upon whole villages, but the army nor the general can 
 stop to think of that. Their duty is to conquer the ene 
 my by all the means in their power." 
 
 As Mi\ Janeway had studied the philosophy of Chris 
 tianity in a different school from that of Mr. Highfly, he 
 concluded they would not be likely to come any nearer in
 
 254 LOOKING AEOTTND. 
 
 their views by continuing the argument, he preferred to 
 drop it, and leave what he had said to be considered by 
 them at their leisure. Mr. Anderson, however, seemed 
 rather anxious that his friend Janeway should not be left 
 to conclude that he endorsed in full the views of his fel 
 low committee man. So, rising from his chair as he inti 
 mated, " that it was time for them to be on their way," 
 he slapped Mr.'Highfly on the shoulder. 
 
 "I tell you what, my good fellow, I believe the less we 
 say about this matter, the better. All we can really say 
 on the subject is this ; we have done as other folks do 
 right or wrong, we can't help it now. Next time we 
 must do better if we can. There are a good many things 
 in the church as well as in the world, that want mending; 
 and perhaps if the former was more careful of its doings, 
 the latter might be more influenced by it. And now, friend 
 Janeway," taking the hand of that gentleman "I 
 shall hope to see more of you in New York. When your 
 friend, the Doctor, gets snugly settled there, you will, no 
 doubt, have an additional attraction to the city." 
 
 " I certainly shall." 
 
 After the gentlemen had departed, Mr. Janeway hesi 
 tated as to the propriety of his making the intended call. 
 If the Doctor had so lately received the invitation to the 
 city, he might wish to be undisturbed by visitors, as of 
 course the subject would demand most serious thought. 
 If he needed advice no doubt he would ask it. Upon re 
 flection he concluded to defer his visit. 
 
 It does not need, in a country town or village, no matter 
 how scattered may be the dwellings, that there should be a 
 bulletin office, where the latest news is posted. Tidings 
 fly with wonderful rapidity, and the very day on which 
 the call had been presented, before evening it was known 
 very generally that the Rev. Doctor Ransom had receiv 
 ed an invitation from a highly respectable congregation in 
 the city of New York, one of the wealthiest in the city, 
 at the highest salary, too, that was then paid by their de 
 nomination. There had, indeed, been a rumor to that ef 
 fect for some time floating about ; it had originated, no 
 doubt, from what had leaked from those who had been 
 sent on to criticise the Sabbath services of the reverend
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 255 
 
 gentleman. They had spent the Sabbath at the tavern, a 
 very quiet and respectable pla<5e of entertainment ; they 
 designed, no doubt, to keep their business secret, but the 
 last committee was not so careful. Being perfectly satis 
 fied that he was the man for them, they no doubt made 
 up their minds that a call would be given, and did not 
 feel the necessity for keeping the matter so private. The 
 gentlemen who had come on likewise*to tender the invi 
 tation, staid at the same place, and had conversed >freely 
 on the subject with the tavern keeper, a person of respec 
 tability, and a great frfend of Doctor Ransom ; and from 
 him the news was sent forth. From Doctor Ransom him 
 self, not a word had been heard, and to no one but his 
 wife did he communicate the intelligence. 
 
 As Mr. Bellows was known to be on very intimate 
 terms with their minister, and one most likely to be in 
 formed of the fact, if it was a fact ; there was that eve 
 ning at his house quite a gathering, not only of the mem 
 bers of the session, but many others who felt concerned 
 to know whether the current report was founded on cer 
 tainty. 
 
 Mr. Bellows was indeed the most likely person to know 
 the truth, for he was more than others, a confidant of the 
 Doctor. He was not a man of superior education; he 
 could not well converse on philosophy or science, or gen 
 eral literature, but he was a keen observer of human na 
 ture, well informed about current events, and of reliable 
 judgment. His piety was ardent and steady. It did 
 not seem to be an attachment, but an inherent quality 
 of the man, not obtrusive in demonstration. There was 
 no sudden flashing of light that might blind and bewilder 
 and astonish, but a clear, steady emanation, pleasant to be 
 hold even by those who did not care to come within its 
 influence. One always knew where to find Mr. Bellows. 
 His zeal for the cause of Christ seemed never to have its 
 cold spells. He never complained of coldnesa not to 
 his fellow man. He knew where warmth and Jight and 
 spiritual energy were to be obtained, and he went to the 
 fountain head ; and his minister knew all this, and had a 
 just appreciation of his character. And he also valued 
 this member of his session for his ability in conducting
 
 256 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 religious exercises. He knew when he called on brother 
 Bellows to pray, there would be real prayer offered not 
 the mere performance of a task a set of common 
 phrases and unmeaning repetitions. There would be a 
 point to it ; there would be real petitions presented in ap 
 propriate language, adapted to the necessities of the case, 
 and regulated by the Saviour's instruction in reference to 
 prayer. He was a peacemaker too, hushing up the strife 
 of words ; no ill-favored report could ever be traced to 
 brother Bellows, nor could it get through him. And his 
 minister could trust in his discretion, and open his mind 
 on any subject that concerned others without the fear that 
 it would be repeated. It is not strange then, that he 
 should have the confidence of the church, as well as that 
 of his pastor, and that on such an occasion as the present, 
 his house should be the gathering place for those who 
 were deeply concerned about the truth or falsehood of 
 this rumor. 
 
 " Well, friend Bellows," said Mr. Graham, " what do 
 you think about this report ? Is it true, and will the Doc 
 tor leave us?" 
 
 " You must ask Betsey ; she seems to know all about 
 it, she has been crying all the afternoon." Mr. Graham 
 had come in the first of any, and Mi's. Bellows was just 
 then talking with her husband, and trying to persuade him 
 that it was his duty to go at once to Doctor Ransom, and 
 tell him that he must not leave them. 
 
 " Then she and Mattie feel pretty much alike. Matti'e 
 sent for me the middle of the afternoon, while I was in 
 the field with the men, and when I came in the first thing 
 she did, was to burst out crying. I was frightened out 
 of my wits ; I did not know but something dreadful had 
 happened." 
 
 " And don't you call it dreadful ! " said Mrs. Bellows. 
 " I do believe you men don't care whether he goes or 
 not." 
 
 " You hear her now, Graham ! " 
 
 " Well, Bellows, it is a bad business, anyhow. After 
 Mattie told me the news, my heart sank all down ; I had 
 no spirit to go to work or do anything. I do think it a 
 most unrighteous thing for any set of men, because they
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 257 
 
 have plenty of money, to come and make ofiers to our 
 minister right over our heads, and never even say ' by your 
 leave.' " 
 
 " It is a common practice, you know." 
 
 " Is it a right practice ? Is it Christian ? " 
 
 Mr. Bellows did not answer for the reason that two 
 other gentlemen just then came in, and Mrs. Graham with 
 them ; they had met at the street door. The ladies, how 
 ever, were so much affected by the sight of each other, 
 that they at once retired to another room to mingle their 
 tears and pour out their distress in sympathy together. 
 
 Mr. Bellows received his guests with his usual pleasant 
 manner, and to the question all put to him as to the truth 
 of the report, his reply was : 
 
 " You all know as much about it, gentlemen, as I do, 
 although I must say this : about the middle of this af 
 ternoon, as I was coming from my east lot, I met young 
 Roland." 
 
 What, Donald ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he stopped me and asked if I had heard the 
 news ? " ' 
 
 "What news?" I asked. 
 
 " Why, that Doctor Ransom had received a call to the 
 city ? " 
 
 " I have heard such a report," I replied, " but know not 
 how true it is." 
 
 " I fear it is true," he replied. 
 
 " Did Donald Roland say that ! " interposed one of the 
 guests ; " he is the last man I should have thought cared 
 whether a minister went or came, or whether there were 
 any ministers at all." 
 
 " We may be wrong in our judgment of Donald, broth 
 er Creighton. He has, to be sure, given more reason than 
 I wish he had, to make people think he did not regard re 
 ligion or religious institutions, but I will give you what 
 he said, and you can judge 'for yourself. 
 
 " Said he, 'I fear the report is true. I have just seen 
 the Rev. Mr. Janeway, and he has told me that the gen 
 tlemen who came on to present the call, were at his house 
 this morning, one of them an old friend of his. They ac 
 knowledged having presented the call, and seemed very
 
 258 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 sanguine that it would be accepted.' Donald then looked 
 at me very earnestly, and said, 
 
 " ' Mr. Bellows, cannot this be prevented ? Doctor Ran 
 som will be a loss to our whole place ; if an addition to 
 his salary is wanted I will subscribe a hundred dollars a 
 year, and if that is not enough, will double it.' " 
 
 "Did Donald Roland say that?" 
 
 " He certainly did, brother Creighton. I never saw him 
 so earnest about any thing before." 
 
 "Well, well, well, that is something I should never 
 have looked for ; but what you say makes me think of 
 another thing. I was coming home from mill a short time 
 since, and I met the Doctor and him riding together ; 
 they were on horseback, and I noticed that they were 
 very earnestly engaged in conversation, and after I passed 
 them, I happened to look back and they were walking 
 their horses, and the Doctor put out his hand and laid it 
 on Donald's shoulder in that friendly way he has, you 
 know, when talking to young people and putting what 
 you have just told us, brother Bellows, with that, it may 
 be the Doctor has put a word into his heart that has 
 touched him. What a mercy it would be, for there is not 
 naturally a better-disposed person in our town. But you 
 know it has been generally thought he did not care any 
 thing about religion was in fact skeptical." 
 
 " What you say about Donald Roland, Mr. Bellows, is 
 strange, I know ; but not more so than what I heard with 
 my own ears from the mouth of Ezekiel Briar, not two 
 hours ago," said another. 
 
 " Old Zeke Briar ! " echoed several voices. 
 
 " Yes, brethren, and it made me think of Nathaniel's re 
 mark to Phillip, ' Can any good thing come out of Naz 
 areth ! ' I was on my way home from the store, and as I 
 was passing along a potato field near his house, I saw 
 Zeke sitting on the fence ; and when I bowed to him he 
 beckoned me to stop, and so I stopped my horse, and up 
 he comes to me." 
 
 " ' Squire,' says he, ' what have you been doing to your 
 minister, to make him want to leave ? ' 
 
 " ' I don't know that he does want to leave,' said I. 
 
 " ' Why, Joe Sanders, the tavern-keeper, told me him-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 259 
 
 pelf, this very morning, he knew it for certain, a call to 
 New York has been put into his hands ; and I think it 
 aint likely folks would take the trouble to come all the 
 way from there to do such a thing as that, if he hadn't 
 let them know in some way that he was ready for it.' 
 
 " This, you see, set me to thinking. It put the whole 
 case in a new light. Thinks I, if that should be the case, 
 there would be no use in trying to head them off, for I had 
 made up my mind that the best thing for us to do, would 
 be to raise his salary right off; but if the thing had gone 
 so far as that the Doctor had encouraged them that he 
 would accept a call if they gave him one, he wasn't the 
 man that would be very likely to disappoint folks. ' Well,' 
 I said, ' I don't know but he may leave us ; it will be a 
 sorry day for us all if he does go.' 
 
 " ' But you must'nt let him go,' said he. 
 
 " ' How can we help it ? ' said I. 
 
 " ' Help it ! Why you must all go to him and tell him 
 he ought'nt. Tell him he must'nt. Tell him you'll raise 
 his salary.' 
 
 " ' Will you help along, Zeke ? ' said I. 
 
 " ' Yes, I will. I know I've been kind of off ox, and 
 raaybe folks think I don't care much how things go ; but 
 I do, for all that. Help ! yes, I'll help. I'll give Twenty- 
 five dollars a year, may be more.' 
 
 " ' Will you promise to go to church, Zeke ? ' said I. 
 
 "'Go to church! Well, I don't know. You dont 
 want me there. You'd all think I'd come to make a muss, 
 or do something or other. But I tell you you]ll miss it, if 
 you let that man go. He's a good man the best Chris 
 tian you've got in the place that ain't saying much, 
 though.' 
 
 " ' Well, Zeke,' said I, ' if you will promise me to go to 
 church and attend regular as other folks, I think some 
 thing may be done. The Doctor will think more of sav 
 ing one sinner than of all the money we can raise. Now 
 promise me, Zeke,' said I. 
 
 " ' Well,' said he, ' if you can get him to stay, I will.' 
 Now, brother, what do you think of that ? " 
 
 " I think, brother Jones, you said the truth when you 
 told Zeke that Doctor Ransom would think more of sav-
 
 260 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 ing one sinner that of any amount of money we could 
 give him as salary. Both of these cases show that our 
 minister has a strong hold of those out of the church, as 
 well as of the church itself." 
 
 "Brother Bellows," said Mr. Sampson, a member of the 
 chui-ch, but a man who was supposed to be a little too 
 fond of money at least, a firm believer in its universal 
 power " it is my opinion, that the best thing we can 
 do, is to go to work at once and see how large a sum of 
 money we can raise. Ministers, as well as other folks, 
 have to look out for number one." 
 
 "I don't believe," interposed Mr. Graham, "such a 
 measure as that will do any good." 
 
 " Why not ? " replied Mr. Sampson. 
 
 "Because I don't think it will affect the decision of the 
 case one ioto." 
 
 " Don't you believe that, brother Graham. Where do 
 you know of a case of a minister's accepting a call when 
 the salary to be paid was less, or even no more, than that 
 which he had been receiving? I know that they put it 
 on the ground of being more useful in one place than 
 another, but I ask you now, can you tell me of an instance 
 where, when a man leaves one parish for another, of his 
 own accord, he does not get a larger salary?" 
 
 " I am not acquainted very generally with the state of 
 things in that respect, nor should I like to judge of minis 
 ters' motives. They must answer for themselves. No 
 doubt there is some occasion for the idea your question 
 suggests ; but I can never believe that any such motive 
 can have influence with Doctor Ransom." 
 
 Just then the conversation was interrupted by the en 
 trance of a gentleman with a brisk, stirring air about him, 
 a robust, hale looking man, with a bronzed complexion, 
 dark eyes, heavy eyebrows, dark hair well sprinkled with 
 grey. He was almost out of breath when he came in, for 
 he had walked fast, and his countenance wore a troubled 
 look. All rose as he entered, and gave him a cordial 
 shake of the hand, with a " How do you do ? " " Glad to 
 see yoa, Mr. Barnes." Mr. Barnes, however, did not speak, 
 but he grasped each hand offered him in such a hearty 
 manner, that all felt assured his heart was with them. No
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 261 
 
 man had a stronger hold of the interest of every one in 
 that room than Mr. Barnes, and it must be admitted that 
 no one felt so deeply concerned in the subject which had 
 been under consideration. After saluting all around, and 
 taking his seat, he remained a moment in silence, when 
 Mr. Graham addressed him. 
 
 "I suppose, brother Barnes, you have heard the news ! " 
 
 " True ? is it true ? " This was spoken in a rapid man 
 ner. He had a very quick utterance in general, often in 
 his haste clipping his words. 
 
 " Too true, we believe." 
 
 " What's to be done ? " 
 
 " That is a serious question, rather difficult to answer, 
 at least for me." 
 
 " I think it is for all of us," said Mr. Creighton. 
 
 "I think, Mr. Barnes," said Mr. Sampson, who, know 
 ing that Mr. Barnes had been once an ardent lover of 
 money, thought no doubt that he had strong faith in its 
 power, and would side with him in his opinion " that 
 the best thing we can do is to raise a good fat sum as an 
 addition to our minister's salary ; that will keep him if 
 any thing." 
 
 "Don't believe it." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Has he asked for money ? " 
 
 "Not that I know of but" 
 
 " Poh, poh, poh, poh." 
 
 " You don't think, then, it would do any good." 
 
 " No good at all, none at all. If money '11 keep him 
 I'd share with him give him half my income. Money 
 would'nt do me any good, if, if if " Mr. Barnes no 
 doubt was intending to say, " if he goes away," but he 
 could not say the word. When greatly excited, he would 
 stop at a word and stammer. The little conjunction had 
 stopped his progi-ess, and his manifestation of deep feel 
 ing affected all present. They knew his heart was bound 
 up in his pastor, and well it might be. He was, at the 
 time Doctor Ransom settled at Woodburn, an active, 
 driving, money-making, worldly-minded man. Besides a 
 large farm which he cultivated in the very best manner, 
 he had a store which, by careful management, he had
 
 262 LOOKING AROITKD. 
 
 made very profitable. His goods were the best of their 
 kind, his prices moderate, and his known integrity and 
 polite attention to customers had drawn to it not only the 
 principal trade in "Woodburn, but that of many who lived 
 on the outskirts of towns adjacent. But he was an ardent 
 lover of money, his whole soul seemed to be absorbed in 
 the single idea of gain. Doctor Ransom had always done 
 some trading with him, although the more important ar 
 ticles for family use he purchased in New York ; and Mr. 
 Barnes was always peculiarly attentive to his reverend 
 customer, not only as he respected him as a man and his 
 minister, but also for the reason that the Doctor was a 
 cash customer. Mr. Barnes had been seized with severe 
 sickness ; he had to leave the care of his farm and store 
 to others to lie helpless on his bed. Friends were 
 alarmed, physicians were doubtful " he might possibly 
 recover, but the symptoms were bad." His minister, un 
 der such circumstances, could not stay away from his bed 
 side, although no particular request had been made for 
 his presence ; but he knew how unprepared the sick man 
 was. He knew it from having held at times long conver 
 sations with him on his religious views. Mr. Barnes 
 seemed glad to see him, and listened with apparent inter 
 est to the solemn address of his minister, heard the ti 
 dings through him of his own dangerous condition, and 
 that the scales were on a poise 'between life and death 
 at length he spoke. 
 
 " Yes, yes, Doctor. I know it, I know it, the world 
 seems to grow worse and worse. People wont pay, wont 
 pay their debts. Can't collect any money harder get 
 ting it than ever." 
 
 Doctor Ransom ceased speaking. He saw clearly that 
 the poor man was wedded to his idol. The prospect of 
 sudden dissolution could not break the charm. His time 
 had not come to die, however. Again he is around as ac 
 tive as ever, apparently with the same eager pursuit of 
 wealth ; his seat in the house of God filled as always be 
 fore, and the truths of the Bible so earnestly and forcibly 
 delivered, falling upon his ear with no more effect than a 
 shower of rain upon the flinty rock. 
 
 There came a time, at length, when a word spoken by
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 his pastor in apparently an incidental way, at a casual in 
 terview, arrested his attention. He tried to throw it off 
 but it would not go ; he became restless, and for trifling 
 causes allowed his temper to be excited, forgot details of 
 his business, often in his house sat silent and by himself, 
 and then at times would walk the room brooding over some 
 apparently forbidding subject, but not disposed to allow 
 either his wife or children to share his confidence. 
 
 Doctor Ransom had called at his store and made a small 
 purchase, and Mr. Barnes, as was his custom, had waited 
 upon the reverend gentleman. After receiving his pay, 
 and as the Doctor bade him good morning and was about 
 to depart, Mr. Barnes stepped from behind his counter 
 and followed him to the door. 
 
 "Doctor, are you in a hurry?" 
 
 " Not particularly so, Mr. Barnes." 
 
 " Can you step into the house, a minute ? " 
 
 " Certainly, sir." T\he house and store were close to 
 gether. 
 
 So, entering the street door of the house, he was led by 
 his host into a parlor. It was the best parlor, and where 
 no one of the family would be very likely to intrude. As 
 soon as his minister was seated, Mr. Barnes began. 
 
 " Doctor, there's something out of the way some 
 thing the matter with me." 
 
 " Ah, sir ! What is it, Mr. Barnes ? not well ? " 
 
 " Well enough, yes. I'm well enough but I can't 
 sleep." 
 
 " Your nervous system, perhaps, my dear sir, has not 
 recovered from the shock of your last sickness." 
 
 " No, no, no. My nerves are well enough strong as 
 ever. It ain't that, but there's a kind of heavy weight 
 hanging to me, and I've tried and tried and tried, but I 
 can't get rid of it it feels as heavy as a peddler's pack, 
 only it's on my mind." 
 
 " Any thing about your business, that troubles you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, no, no. It ain't that, business goes on well 
 enough." 
 
 " So far as you can describe the difficulty, Mr. Barnes, 
 or feel free to unfold it to me, I should be glad to hear it. 
 It seems to be some burden on your mind that is discon-
 
 264 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 nected with worldly interests. Has it any thing to do 
 with the great subject you and I have dwelt upon at 
 times?" 
 
 " I'm afraid it has." 
 
 " To me, sir, should it turn out that a concern for your 
 eternal interests has been started in your mind, it would 
 be cause rather for rejoicing. My fear for you has been 
 that, in your eagerness to gain as much as possible of this 
 world, you would become callous to all that concerns your 
 spiritual good." 
 
 " What shall I do, Doctor ? I am a very wretched 
 man. I am a very guilty, wicked person. I have never 
 done a good thing all my life. Did you ever know such 
 a case ? " 
 
 " You have the name, Mr. Barnes, of having been a 
 truly honest man in all your dealings with your fellows. 
 You have been a good member of society. I have never 
 heard a complaint against you in that respect. I have 
 feared, however, that you did not love your Saviour as 
 much as you have loved your money." 
 
 " Oh, sir ! my dear Doctor, there you've hit it. Money 
 has been my God. Day and night, month after month, 
 year after year, I have worshipped it given my whole 
 heart to it Sundays and all days, there my heart has 
 been. Ain't it a wonder I haven't been struck dead, 
 long before now ? Only to think of it ! Here I am, six 
 ty years of age, my hair gray, my forehead wrinkled with 
 care and labor, and striving to get this world. God's sun 
 shining around me, His rain watering my fields, His hand 
 guarding me by day and night, and my heart all the time 
 a-saying, * I desire not to know Thee go away, go away 
 I want not the knowledge of thy ways.' Oh, sir, it is 
 a dreadful case ; and the more I think of it, the worse it 
 seems." 
 
 " It is sad to think that our life has been wasted in a 
 chase after that which, after all, is a deceitful meteor ; but 
 God, in his great compassion, has prepared a way and un 
 folded the means by which our folly and error may be 
 amended. Penitence for the past and a new life for the 
 future." 
 
 " Doctor, I've been thinking I'd give away all my prop 
 erty."
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 265 
 
 " For what purpose, Mr. Barnes ? " 
 
 " May be I should feel easier." 
 
 " Had you gained it unjustly, I should urge you to do 
 so, for it would ever be as a mill stone about your neck ; 
 but you have labored diligently to acquire it, and have 
 practiced no dishonesty that I ever heard. God alone has 
 been defrauded. He does not ask for your property, but 
 your heart ; until you can give that up to Him, nothing 
 else you possess will be accepted at your hands. You 
 have loved the world with all your heart, and you know 
 from your own experience what that implies. ' Day and 
 night,' you have said, t for months and years', the world 
 has engrossed your desires. In just such measure hereaf 
 ter must you be engrossed with the love and service of 
 God. Your property, which God has given you, must no 
 longer be accounted as your own, you must hold it as 
 God's agent. It is not to be squandered by extravagance, 
 nor for the gratification of mere worldly appetite and 
 taste, nor thrown heedlessly into the hands of others to 
 use for benevolent objects. You are responsible for it, 
 and must one day, as a recipient of God's bounty, give an 
 account of it. Now, my dear sir, do you understand me." 
 
 Think I do." 
 
 " You have hitherto, my friend, lived for the world." 
 
 " Yes, yes that I have." 
 
 " Are you ready to say now, that henceforth you will 
 live for your Saviour, give him your heart and ser 
 vice?" 
 
 A moment there was no response. The large shaggy 
 brows were drawn together, the broad forehead knit with 
 wrinkles, the heavy mouth closely shut, and the dark eyes 
 twinkling rapidly. A mighty struggle which had been 
 going on for weeks, reached its climax. He had a cleai' 
 mind, he had comprehended all his minister had said, 
 the truth blazed before him, he knew it was the way, the 
 only way. 
 
 " Til try to." 
 
 The Doctor arose and took his hand. 
 
 " My dear friend, may God help you," and then was 
 about to depart, but Mr. Barnes still held his hand. 
 
 " You will pray for me." 
 12
 
 266 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " That I have done daily for many years. Now I will 
 not only pray for you, but give thanks to God for the won 
 ders of his grace." 
 
 "Wonderful! Wonderful! I don't know myself; 
 something seems to have happened to me. I seem in a 
 strange world, all looks new." 
 
 " And somewhat brighter, does it not ? " 
 Yes, yes, brighter ! Oh, sir, I feel as if I could cry 
 aloud for joy." 
 
 The Doctor paused. He was taken by surprise. He 
 knew well that when Mr. Barnes said, 'I'll try to,' a great 
 end had been accomplished. He was not a man to say 
 things rashly. He was not a man easily turned from his 
 purpose. lie would try and having a strong faith that 
 a good work was begun, he believed it would be carried 
 through ; but he anticipated a longer struggle, and not 
 that light and peace should have come so soon. 
 
 " Are you ready to bow down with me now, my dear 
 sir, and unite with me in giving thanks to God for his re 
 deeming mercy ? " 
 " Glad, glad to do it." 
 
 And brighter and brighter from that hour, was the path 
 of this renewed man, and the light of his new life shone 
 clearly through all the parish, a wonder to all, and the 
 cause of renewed strength to many a weak Christian. No 
 wonder then, if the prospect of losing one on whom he 
 had leaned for instruction as a child upon a father, and to 
 whom his heai't was knit by the most endearing tie, should 
 have stirred its depths. The evident emotion manifested 
 by Mr. Barnes had effectually silenced the company ; the 
 shadow of a deep grief had fallen upon them. Mr. Bel 
 lows was the first to break the silence. 
 
 " Brethren, I believe we all feel alike in reference to 
 the trial in prospect, although we may differ as to our 
 views of a remedy. My own belief is that no amount of 
 money we could raise as salary would be of any avail, for 
 if that object should have influence, we should be beaten 
 in the competition. I am credibly informed that the con 
 gregation that has given him the call, authorized the com 
 mittee to assure the Doctor that they were prepared to do 
 much more than pay the salary named that a very
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 267 
 
 handsome purse would be made up for him at the start, 
 and that he might rely upon large presents every year. No, 
 brethren, we must wait patiently and leave the matter to 
 the Doctor's own sense of duty. He will be influenced 
 by that and nothing else ; and I have no doubt if he were 
 here with us to-night, he would ask for our earnest pray 
 ers that he might see clearly what that was. I therefore 
 propose that we spend our time, while here together, in 
 that way, and if brother Barnes will lead us " 
 
 " Can't, can't do it." In general he never refused when 
 called upon, but all present well understood the cause for 
 declining, and Mr. Bellows himself commenced the exer 
 cise. There was no formality in the petitions offered that 
 evening, every individual felt that personal as well as pub 
 lic interests of the most important character were at stake. 
 
 The Sabbath came, and there was a large attendance. 
 Whether the subject of the discourses was one of deep 
 er interest than usual, or the people more easily excited, 
 there was certainly an unusual solemnity and manifesta 
 tion of deep feeling. Many seemed to have made up 
 their minds that they were to lose their pastor, and were 
 listening to him, as perhaps for the last time, under that 
 endearing relation in which they had been so long bound 
 together. And when the morning service closed there" 
 was no saluting of one another as is common in the coun 
 try, as they emerged from the sanctuary. Each heart seem 
 ed to bear a silent sorrow, and in little groups they walk 
 ed towards their homes, not caring to speak of that which 
 lay most burdensome upon them, and no desire to talk 
 of aught besides ; they seemed like mourners returning 
 from the newly covered grave. 
 
 At the close of the afternoon service, and while all 
 were standing in readiness to receive the benediction, 
 the Doctor made a request that the members of his Ses 
 sion should meet him at the lecture room to-morrow 
 (Monday) evening. 
 
 There was a sudden movement as though a rush of 
 wind had swayed the long branches of the weeping elms 
 that hung before the windows, and the faces of women 
 and men turned involuntarily one towards another, some 
 with a silent nod, some with deep meaning flashing from
 
 268 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 the eye and not a few of the women, those lovers of the 
 Saviour and of all his ministers, that most resemble the 
 dear master, with the tear already started. It was an ap 
 pointment, all knew, for a special object, as it was not the 
 regular time for their meeting it must of course have ref 
 erence to their new situation, and no doubt was designed 
 as the first act in the drama. 
 
 The Doctor did not in general leave his pulpit until the 
 congregation had nearly all left the house, and this day 
 he lingered there longer than usual ; he evidently, for 
 some cause, did not wish to be subjected to inquiries or 
 to make communications. A few, however, of the people 
 remained within the vestibule until he came out. Among 
 them was Mrs. Graham. She could not go to her home 
 until she had passed a word with her dear pastor. Mrs. 
 Graham was quite young when the Doctor was settled. 
 Although married, she was but eighteen years of age. 
 She had therefore placed herself among the young peo 
 ple, and had joined one of the classes which the Doctor 
 had taken much pains to instruct in Biblical literature. 
 She had been one of his best scholars, and having a warm 
 heart, as well as a bright mind, had become devotedly at 
 tached ~ to her minister and teacher; and perhaps there 
 was no one among his people who had taken a stronger 
 hold upon his own heart. As he entered the vestibule 
 she came up to him, and as he took her hand, she looked 
 up into his face, her bright eye suffused with the tears she 
 had no power to control. 
 
 " You will^ not leave us ! " The voice was low, scarce 
 above a whisper, but the evident emotion that almost 
 choked her utterance deeply affected the strong man, and 
 for a little space he hesitated to reply; then cordially 
 pressing her hand 
 
 " My dear child, we must learn to lean on a surer sup 
 port than an arm of flestu We can do without one another, 
 but we cannot do without the Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 Unable to restrain her feelings she at once gave vent 
 to a passionate burst of tears ; two or three other ladies 
 who were present, but did not hear what was said, taking 
 for granted that Mrs. Graham's fears had been verified, 
 gathered about her and mingled their tears with hers;
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 269 
 
 the pastor, much moved, and unwilling to trust himself to 
 say more, stepped from the vestibule and left the church. 
 
 The session room, as it was called, was a small build 
 ing attached to the church, which had been erected at the 
 suggestion of the Doctor, in which meetings might be held 
 occasionally, and which might be warmed and lighted 
 more readily than the larger building. It had folding doors 
 by which it could be divided into a larger and smaller 
 room, or both thrown into one as occasion might require ; 
 the latter was generally used when the elders and deacons, 
 with the pastor, assembled. 
 
 Nothing had been learned by any of the officers as to 
 the prospect before them, but from incidental circum 
 stances, known to a few, it was feared their pastor had 
 concluded to leave. They came together, therefore, in no 
 very cheerful mood. The hour of seven had just struck 
 as the Doctor entered, and after a kind salutation to each 
 individual, he took the chair before a small table his usual 
 seat. His countenance had lost its hale appearance, it 
 was pale and his eye languid, and there was a look of un 
 easiness as though a heavy burden of care pressed upon 
 his mind. The past few days had done more to prostrate 
 his physical powers than all his years of ministerial labor ; 
 and each of his session felt assured that a mighty conflict 
 had been sustained within his breast, and that whatever 
 conclusion had been made, had been arrived at through 
 intense thought and earnest prayer, and would not be ea 
 sily reversed. 
 
 After the opening prayer, the Doctor resumed his seat, 
 and almost immediately addressed them. 
 
 " It is probably known to you, brethren, that a call has 
 been presented to me by a congregation in the city of 
 New York, to become their pastor. And it is but justice 
 to myself to say, that it has been done without the least 
 connivance on my part, nor the least encouragement that 
 I was ready to listen to any such proposal. I therefore 
 feel more solicitude about the matter, because so far as I 
 am concerned, it is a providential act entirely, and involves 
 of course, great consideration on my part, and deep study 
 of the matter in all its bearings. Should I consult my 
 personal feelings alone, a moment's thought would be suffi-
 
 270 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 cient ; but as I view my calling as a minister of Jesus 
 Christ, personal preferences must be laid aside and the 
 will of the Master implicitly obeyed. 
 
 It is customary with many of my ministerial brethren, 
 when situated as I now am, to lay the case before a coun 
 cil or Presbytery, and leave the decision to their judgment ; 
 but I do not intend to ask counsel of any besides Him 
 whose servant I am, and seeking by earnest prayer for 
 His direction, judge for myself after weighing well all con 
 siderations, what my line of duty may be. And one very 
 important item upon which to base my judgment, must be 
 derived, brethren, from the information I may receive from 
 you ; and I appeal now to your knowledge and your judg- 
 menty your personal feelings towards me I feel assured 
 are of the most friendly nature. We are mutual friends, as 
 well as official brethren. But I ask you to lay all natural 
 feelings aside. To do our duty as Christians to the part of 
 Zion to which we belong, and to the church at large, must 
 be our chief business. Yon are, from your peculiar situa 
 tion, familiar with the state of feeling among the people 
 both the church itself and those who are merely members 
 of the congregation.. I have been with you ten years, 
 my manner of life and my ministerial character must in 
 that time have had their influence for good or evil. J 
 have lived and preached as my conscience has directed 
 me, and my course for the future will not be materially 
 changed. I wish you to tell me, therefore, with all plain 
 ness, and to the very best of your knowledge, how the 
 people are affected towards my ministry. I charge you 
 to keep nothing back out of delicate regard to my feel 
 ings ; let me know the truth and the whole truth, as God 
 shall be your judge." 
 
 There was an evident lighting up of the countenance 
 on the part of the Session, and instinctively all turned their 
 eyes towards Mr. Bellows, as the one to rise and respond. 
 He did not wait long. 
 
 " My brethren," said Mr. Bellows, " seem to feel that I 
 must reply to the request of our pastor, and I readily do 
 so ; but reverend sir, I shall only answer so far as my own 
 knowledge of the feelings of our people gives me author 
 ity to speak, and I wish my brethren clearly to understand
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 271 
 
 that I do not answer for them, nor will I take such a 
 responsibility. I speak not for them, but for myself. 
 
 *' So far as the feelings of the members of the church are 
 concerned, I can only say, that my intercourse with them 
 has been very general and intimate, and I do not hesitate 
 to affirm my belief that not a single member but feels 
 perfectly satisfied with the ministration of our pastor, 
 and more than that they are not only satisfied, but will be 
 filled with deep sorrow, if the bond which unites us shall 
 be broken. As to those who worship with us who are 
 not members of the church, I must say, I have been much 
 surprised at the feeling manifested on their part, since the 
 rumor has been circulated that there was a prospect of 
 our pastor's leaving us. Persons whom I supposed per 
 fectly indifferent whether we had a minister or not, have 
 manifested much anxiety ; and without giving names, I 
 will say, that the wealthiest person in our town, and one 
 whom many of us have feared was not only indifferent, 
 but positively an enemy to the preaching of the gospel, 
 has offered to me to bind himself and his property to the 
 amount of two hundred dollars a year, if by that means 
 salary enough could be raised to prevent what he said 
 would be a calamity to the whole town. 
 
 "My firm belief is, sir, that no man living, has the same 
 chance to do good among us as yourself; please excuse 
 my plain speaking." 
 
 When Mr. Bellows had concluded, the members in turn 
 arose and gave their testimony, all going to confirm in the 
 most decided manner the plain statement Mr. Bellows 
 had made, interspersing their remarks with accounts of 
 what had been said to them by indviduals both in the 
 church and out of it. At the conclusion the Doctor arose. 
 He was evidently deeply moved. His fine manly face was 
 suffused with an unusual glow, and as he commenced, the 
 tremor that marked his utterance affected those about him 
 with the most intense interest. Some heads were bowed 
 down ; and others, with strong emotion manifest in their 
 rigid features, fixed their eyes earnestly upon him. 
 
 " Brethren, I bless God for the 'evidence which your 
 testimony gives me that my labors here have not been 
 in vain in the Lord. And your assurance of the love of
 
 272 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 this people towards me as their pastor is the more grati 
 fying, for the reason that I have courted no man's favor. 
 I have without fear warned and exhorted and reproved, 
 not from the pulpit only, but personally in private. I 
 have kept my hands free from bribes, no gifts have I al 
 lowed myself to receive, although many have been ten 
 dered, because I wished to stand, as a minister of Christ, 
 on fair vantage ground, independent of their worldly goods, 
 that I might offer to them the riches of salvation through 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 And now, brethren, taking your word as my warrant in 
 favor of my usefulness among this people, and having 
 weighed according to my best judgment the whole mat 
 ter of this call, I have come to the conclusion that it is 
 not my duty to do violence to your feelings and my own, 
 too. I will not leave you." 
 
 It would be in vain to attempt a description of the 
 scene that followed ; all rose by a simultaneous impulse, 
 they crowded around him, each by turns grasping his hand. 
 Not a word was spoken. Tears yes, tears not often 
 seen gathered in the eyes of men of their years and sturdy 
 character, told what their tongues could not utter, nor 
 could that pastor, with all his self-command, keep back 
 those tokens that his heart was deeply stirred. 
 
 Mr. Barnes was present he was one of the deacons. 
 He had not said much, for his heart was too full to allow 
 many words. After the scene above described, and order 
 was again restored, he was the first to rise. 
 
 " Brethren," he did not address himself to the modera 
 tor, " we are now safe, our pastor won't leave us, but we 
 have something to do ; he has sacrificed his worldly in 
 terests for us, we must do something for him. I move his 
 salary be increased five hundred dollars. You all know 
 the money can be raised as easy as nothing." 
 
 The Doctor immediately arose. 
 
 "Brethren, this proceeding is not quite in -order. I 
 overlook its impropriety for the fact that we are all some 
 what under the influence of feeling. But allow me to say 
 on this subject, while I feel very grateful for the spirit man 
 ifested towards me, yet I cannot j^y any means consent to 
 the plan proposed. How would it appear, brethren, when
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 273 
 
 it becomes noised abroad. It would look like this " your 
 pastor has received a call to another church with a large 
 salary attached to it his own people, in order to keep him, 
 at once increased his pay, and he concluded not to leave 
 them." What inference would the world draw ? Either 
 that you had not done what was right you should have 
 done, which would not be true ; or that I was influenced 
 by mercenary motives which would also be untrue ; and 
 we should both stand in a false light as a Christian pastor 
 and people, and what is infinitely of more consequence, 
 the cause of our beloved master would be injured. 
 
 But, brethren, to put your minds at rest on this matter, 
 I assure you that I am comfortably provided with all the 
 necessaries of life. You know my style of living, and 
 how my table is spread from day to day* "We have enough 
 and to spare. Economy I consider a Christian virtue, and 
 have therefore, as the head of this people, always felt it my 
 duty in that to set no example which might by possibility 
 do an injury to sound morals. My expenses have indeed 
 increased since I first came among you, and so have my 
 receipts. The few acres of land attached to my home 
 have become a material source of income, and that with 
 out encroaching on my time or labor. I expect, brethren, 
 now to live and die among you, and I have no fear that 
 if at any time I shall need more at your hands it will be 
 forthcoming ; let all our efforts be more decided in build 
 ing up our Zion here and elsewhere. That should be our 
 aim, and by all the means in our power let us endeavor to 
 win every unconverted soul among us to the fold of Christ." 
 
 The members of the session for the most part were 
 somewhat taken by surprise at the motion made by their 
 brother member, for although all were heartily in favor of 
 it, yet they knew there was a manifest impropriety in 
 bringing forward such a subject in the presence of their 
 pastor ; but all knew how ardent and impulsive were the 
 feelings of brother Barnes, and that being a junior mem 
 ber, although an elder among them, he was not well versed 
 in etiquette. They, however, resolved that something 
 should be done in a proper way and time, the result of 
 which must be left for another place. 
 12*
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE reverend Doctor having sent off his letter which 
 contained his declinature to the call, couched in such 
 terms as to leave no opening for anything further to be 
 said to him on that subject, felt his mind greatly relieved ; 
 a burden had been rolled off, and his path of duty seem 
 ed perfectly plain. 
 
 There were some things, however, that still demanded 
 his attention. He had declined a call to labor in a larger 
 field, " was there any thing to be done in that he now oc 
 cupied, that he had neglected?" As he was looking 
 round over his parish and reflecting upon its condition, 
 light broke upon his mind, and he clearly perceived that 
 on one point at least he had been deficient ; he had not 
 counted sufficiently on his power over those who were 
 out of the church, and who had manifested such indiffer 
 ence to religion as not to attend religious services on the 
 Sabbath, or to do so very irregularly. Some, he knew, 
 had acquired a habit of staying at home on the Sabbath, 
 and being somewhat advanced in years, would not be 
 likely to break through it. Various causes had operated to 
 produce such cases. W ith some it had been an offence 
 taken at a former pastor, or at some members of the church ; 
 others had been detained a long time from the sanctuary 
 by chronic difficulties, until they formed an idea that they 
 could not be confined during an hour and a half in one 
 position. The number of such persons was not large, but 
 their influence was baneful, and if possible must be nulli 
 fied. If they would not come to hear the gospel, the gos 
 pel must be carried to them. He had not, indeed, neg 
 lected them, and had conversed with them in private, but 
 he had strong faith in the public preaching of the word. 
 He therefore resolved to hold meetings near their places 
 of residence ; perhaps they would come out, or might even 
 be induced to have meetings appointed at their own 
 houses.
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 275 
 
 There were also persons living on the outskirts of the 
 parish, some of them too poor to own the means of com 
 ing to the house of God in a decent vehicle, and the dis 
 tance was too far to be traveled on foot, by those who felt 
 no interest in religion. And the gospel must be carried 
 to them, and the service must be regular, and not merely 
 occasional as it had been. On the whole, after looking 
 over the field with this new sense of responsibility, he 
 found it large enough, and the work important enough, 
 to fill all his time and thought, and to demand even the 
 active co-operation of those members of his session who, 
 under his eare, had been educated to conduct meetings 
 with ability and profit. 
 
 It was not many days after he had sent off the letter 
 before mentioned, and while he was busily occupied in 
 his study preparing a programme for immediate addition 
 al labor, when he was notified that some strangers were 
 in the sitting-room, and wished to see him. On entering 
 the room he found three gentlemen waiting his presence, 
 two of them immediately arose and grasped his hand with 
 much cordiality. 
 
 " Brethren," said the Doctor, " I am most happy to see 
 you under my roof." 
 
 " And I am very happy to see you, brother Ransom, look 
 ing so hale and surrounded with so many beauties. You 
 must be a great lover of flowers, the very air is scent 
 ed with them," said one of the gentlemen. 
 
 " Allow me, brother Ransom, to introduce you to my 
 friend, Mr. Tremain, from our city," said the other gen 
 tleman. 
 
 " I believe," said Mr. Tremain, as he gave his hand to 
 the Doctor, " we are not quite strangers, sir, although we 
 have not met before." 
 
 " This is the Mr. Tremain, then, who has so befriended 
 that dear youth, William Herbert ? " 
 
 " William Herbert, sir, has been his own best friend, 
 or perhaps you have, sir; for he ascribes all there is right 
 and efficient in him, to your kind care and judicious coun 
 sel. We business men cannot afford to take young men 
 out of friendship, or to give them a share of our business, 
 because we feel kindly disposed ; they must rise by their
 
 X 
 276 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 own efficiency, we must feel confident they can serve ua 
 to a purpose, and then we give them a chance to help 
 themselves at the same time. Will is a fine fellow, though, 
 a noble fellow, he will make his way if his life is spared." 
 
 " Your report of him, sir, is very gratifying to me, and 
 I heartily agree with you as to the principle upon which 
 you act in reference to young men. It is not kindness to 
 any young man beginning life, to stretch out the helping 
 hand too liberally; by doing so, we are likely to get 
 him into a situation which he is not qualified to fill. And 
 I believe, brethren," turning to his two clerical guests, "if 
 we followed more strictly the rule which this gentleman 
 says governs business men in selecting clerks or advanc 
 ing those they employ, in the matter of encouraging young 
 men to enter the ministry, or in giving them license to 
 preach, it would be better for many of them and for the 
 church too." 
 
 " That is the very point, Doctor Ransom," said Mr. Tre- 
 main, '<that I have been arguing with these reverend 
 gentlemen on our way up from the city. I insist upon it, 
 if a young man has the root of the matter in him, if he 
 has a strong desire to preaeh the gospel, and has that sta 
 bility of character and energy of will necessary to make 
 an efficient gospel minister, he will accomplish his purpose 
 he will work his way into it in spite of difficulties, and 
 such a man will be worth to the church and the world, 
 more than a dozen of your milk and water folks, that are 
 helped and boosted and coaxed along. See how it is 
 now. We have been more than a year looking around for 
 a minister. We have had young men by the dozens, trying 
 their best in our pulpit, and many of them exciting the 
 ridicule or the pity of our people." 
 
 "But, Mr. Tremain," replied quickly one of the rever 
 end gentlemen, " you must keep in mind that our city 
 congregations labor under a disadvantage, they have be 
 come accustomed to fine preaching, they have itching ears, 
 the gospel must be preached to them in a more finished 
 style ; there are other fields where these young men can 
 labor and be useful, and seeing the great want of laborers, 
 we must try to obtain as many as possible ; all cannot be 
 men of superior talent."
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 277 
 
 " True, sir," replied Mr. Tremain, " but it seems to me 
 there is a certain amount of talent that is absolutely nec 
 essary, and characteristics of a peculiar kind. There should 
 be at the foundation ardent piety not merely the mani 
 festation of piety sufficient to save a man there should 
 be good common sense, there should be strong resolution 
 and a mind capable of enlargement. These, it seems to me, 
 are essential requisites, and with these a man may not be 
 a brilliant speaker ; but with the glorious truth she has to 
 deal in, he will be able to command the reverence and re 
 spect, at least the attention of his audience. There must 
 be an innate quality that will enable a man to command 
 circumstances and make them bend to his will, or to take 
 advantage of them to further his end. For instance, take 
 the case of this young man whose name has brought up 
 this subject. He came to me a stranger ; he had lost a fine 
 place, not through any fault of his, though. I wanted a 
 young man, and had been wanting one for some time. He 
 had 'been brought up to another line of business. I had 
 not conversed with him a quarter of an hour before I felt 
 sure he was the one I had been looking for, and could not 
 find. I perceived he had self-reliance, he had energy and 
 determination, he would not be daunted at trifles, he 
 thought quick and justly, and would give, his whole heart 
 and soul to the work before him. As I said, he had been 
 trained to another line of business, but in three weeks from 
 the time he came to me, he sailed for a foreign port, to be 
 among people of a strange language, strange to him 
 and to take charge of large interests, with great responsi 
 bilities resting on his proper management. And I have 
 not been disappointed in him. The talent for business Avas 
 in him, any one could see that, and his whole mind was 
 bent upon it. He was determined to make a man of him 
 self, and he has done it. The great deficiency I find in 
 ministers, you will pardon my freedom, gentlemen, is 
 that their hearts do not seem to be in their work." 
 
 Mr. Tremain was well known to the reverend gentle 
 man who had accompanied him, and therefore the remark 
 did not surprise them, even if it was not very palatable. 
 He was an active, keen business man, and yet a true friend 
 to the church and all benevolent operations. He was not
 
 278 LOOKING AROTTNT). 
 
 large in person, rather below the medium height, but his 
 mind was ready and well stored with general knowledge, 
 his eye was a true symbol of his chai'acter, bright, pene 
 trating, clear and full ; he spoke with a fluency and gener 
 ally at once to the point. His known energy and ability 
 had induced the congregation which had given the call to 
 Dr. Ransom, and to which he belonged, to appoint him, 
 in connection with two of the moi-e influential members of 
 the Presbytery, pastors in the city, to call upon the rever 
 end gentleman and exert their influence to persuade him 
 to reconsider the decision he had made ; and for this ob 
 ject they were now at his house. Mr. Tremain would not 
 in all probability have accepted the appointment, if it had 
 not been that he wished to see the Doctor on some pri 
 vate business, for he had no faith in any efforts that could 
 be made to that end. He had learned so much of his char 
 acter through William Herbert, that he believed the sub 
 ject had been thoroughly weighed in his own mind, and 
 his decision would be final. 
 
 Having, as soon as propriety would permit, introduced 
 the object of their mission, and unfolded their views and 
 wishes in quite a long statement of the peculiar condition 
 
 of the Street church, and the difficulty of procuring 
 
 a minister of the right stamp, the Doctor replied, 
 
 "I believe, gentlemen, I have considered most of the 
 arguments you have advanced, but they have not con 
 vinced me that it was my duty to accept the call. There 
 is much work to be done here, and I think from all I can 
 learn that no one under present circumstances, can do the 
 work so well ; here I have influence, and if faithful, may 
 hope, with God's blessing, to accomplish some good in a 
 new situation the result of my labors would be doubtful. 
 I have also a serious objection to the manner in which 
 your churches in the city are organized, you have no 
 poor among you." 
 
 " Oh, but brother Ransom ! " exclaimed the two clergy 
 men almost in the same breath, " that should not be an 
 objection, the rich need preaching to as well as the poor, 
 and the poor have free churches, where they can attend 
 without any cost." 
 
 " I know that, my dear sirs, I am well aware how that
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 279 
 
 matter is arranged, but it does not, to ray mind, remove 
 the objection. There must be something wrong, either in 
 the views and feelings of the church itself, or, as I said, in 
 the organization of your religious societies. When a 
 building is erected for the worship of Almighty God, and 
 solemnly consecrated to Him, it becomes a place where 
 no such invidious distinctions can be proper, the whole 
 tenor of the gospel is against it, the practice of our Mas 
 ter and his Apostles is against it, and for my own part I 
 had rather preach in a market-place or a public square, 
 where the poor and the outcasts could come without 
 shame, than in the most splendid edifice where none but 
 those who could command a certain amount of money, 
 might enter." 
 
 " But, my good sir," said Mr. Tremain, " how is the 
 difficulty to be avoided ? Our buildings cost a large sum, 
 oftentimes considerable portion of the money has to be 
 borrowed on mortgage, of course, then, there is interest to 
 pay, then the minister's salary, and the cost for music, and 
 the pay of the sexton, and a thousand items of expense 
 too numerous to mention. All these require a large in 
 come which must be met by the rental of pews ; of course 
 the rents are so high no really poor person can afford to. 
 hire one. We have a few free seats, to be sure, which 
 are generally occupied by transient visitors. It is not 
 just the thing, many of us are aware of it, but how to re 
 medy the evil, there is the trouble." 
 
 " It is not for me to say how the evil might be met. 
 Perhaps when you who are in the midst of it, and who real 
 ize its inconsistency, shall have thought of it in connec 
 tion with some passages in the Scriptures of both the Old 
 and New Testament, a remedy will no doubt suggest itself. 
 Our Saviour has identified himself with the poor of this 
 world, and his disciples must beware lest, in shutting the 
 doors of their churches against the latter, they should 
 find they had excluded the master too." 
 
 The two ministers had designed, after having used such 
 arguments as presented themselves to their minds, to pro 
 pose that the subject should be laid before the Presbytery 
 and that the Doctor should abide by its decision ; but 
 after hearing his remarks, they concluded to say nothing
 
 280 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 further about it. He was not one, they plainly perceived, 
 who would take any important step, without being satisfied 
 in his own mind that it was best and more than that, 
 they had serious doubts, whether after all, he was the right 
 man, either for that particular church or for their Pres 
 bytery. There was a decision of character manifest, 
 which, in connection with rather obsolete views of things, 
 might make him a troublesome member at times, and his 
 ignorance, as they thought, of the peculiarities of city life, 
 might get him into difficulty with his people just as if 
 a few conventional forms so changed the nature and re 
 sponsibilities of man, that the- simpler truths of the gos 
 pel must be modified to suit his taste. 
 
 After the departure of the reverend gentlemen, Mr. 
 Tremaiu lost no time in unfolding the errand of a per 
 sonal nature, which had brought him to Woodburn. 
 
 ".And now, Doctor Ransom, as this church business is 
 all settled, I must ask your attention to a little secular 
 business. You are no doubt acquainted with Miss Stan 
 ley, the daughter of the deceased Mr. Stanley with whom 
 Herbert served his apprenticeship." 
 
 " I may be said to be pretty well acquainted with her, 
 , through the medium of our young friend, but of course 
 you and I know how to make allowance for the glorifi 
 cation views of a lover. I have, however, from what per 
 sonal intercourse I have enjoyed, formed, I must say, a 
 most favorable opinion of the young lady." 
 
 " I have never seen her, but must do so forthwith. And 
 as I have a proposition to make to her, of a rather serious 
 nature, I wish to have an introduction from a source that 
 will place me on terms that will command her respect. 
 
 " Of course, my dear sir, you and I have no personal 
 interest in the business for which I have more especially 
 come here ; but we both, I believe, have a sincere regard 
 for young Herbert, and are willing to do Avhat we can to 
 relieve his mind, which is at present much disturbed by 
 the situation in which Miss Stanley is placed. And in 
 order that you may understand matters, I will tell you 
 the cause of his uneasiness. She is, in the first place, as 
 William tells me, a most conscientious person, without 
 guile, unsuspicious, confiding and intensely averse to dis-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 281 
 
 cussion or family difficulties of any sort. She will put 
 up with almost any amount of imposition, before she, will 
 take a stand for her own rights, if thereby hard feelings 
 would be created. Her father has, by his will, placed her 
 under the guardianship of Mr. Blan chard, with unlimited 
 control as to the management of her property. Mr. 
 Stanley looked upon Blanchard and his wife as very near 
 and dear friends; and had unbounded confidence in 
 Blanchard as a shrewd manager, and an honest man. Un 
 der this impression, his daughter and her interests were 
 confided to him. Mr. Stanley had also equal confidence 
 in William Herbert, and proposed to him on his dying 
 bed, that his name .should be placed in the will, as joint 
 executor with Blancbard. For reasons, which to Herbert 
 appeared forcible, he declined a thousand pities that he 
 did so. Blanchard I know well, he is not the man Stan 
 ley took him to be ; he has already, I have reason to 
 know, used a large amount of this young lady's property 
 in speculations in stocks. He is a reckless speculator, and 
 he is but no matter he will be found out one of these 
 days. To my certain knowledge, he is at this present 
 time, about to raise a very large sum on fast property be 
 longing to her in New York. The ostensible reason for 
 his doing this is, to improve some vacant lots, in the up 
 per part of the city, belonging to Miss Stanley, by build 
 ing on them. But, sir, I know that a man who operates 
 largely for Blanchard in New York, in buying and selling 
 stocks, is expecting to receive this money, and when it 
 once gets into his hand, I do not believe that either Blanch 
 ard or Miss Stanley will ever see a dollar of it. Now 
 William Herbert knows all this, and his mind is in a very 
 disturbed state ; he fears Miss Stanley will in a short time 
 be utterly stripped of her property." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Tremain, I suppose if the truth could be 
 known, William would not regret it." 
 
 " I know, sir, he has some foolish notions about such 
 matters ; he has almost, I believe, taken a vow never to 
 marry a lady that has a cent she can call her own." 
 
 " I hope he has not done that ; but I am not surprised, 
 knowing as I do some things in his past history, that he 
 should prefer that the wife of his bosom, should look to
 
 282 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 him, not only for a husband's love, but as a dependent on 
 his providing care." 
 
 " He has romantic notions about that, I know ; but then 
 I know he loves Miss Stanley, and the idea that she should 
 be stripped of her property and brought into a state of 
 dependence on such a man as Blanchard, is wormwood 
 and gall to him ; it almost crazes him think to of it." 
 
 " Cannot the young lady choose another guardian ? " 
 
 " She can, sir, and promised Herbert when he left her 
 up here, that she would do so, if a suitable person could 
 be found ; and sir, I have consented to act in that capac 
 ity for her. But the trouble is here, sir. I fear, before the 
 forms could be gone through with, Blanchard would make 
 such a disposition of things that there would be little left 
 to protect. He is an artful man about some things, though 
 a fool otherwise. But, sir, since I left New York, in 
 thinking over the whole matter, I have come to the con 
 clusion that the best thing possible to be done,, is that they 
 should be married." 
 
 Married ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir, married. That is a ceremony soon performed, 
 and when once buckled together, all the power of Blanch 
 ard over her and her property, ceases on that instant. By 
 the will of her father, if, at any time after eighteen, she 
 should marry, she and her husband are to be seized in full 
 right of her property, as though she was of age." 
 
 "But, my dear sir, they are not engaged, even." 
 
 " That may be so, but Will is dead in love with her, al 
 though he will not acknowledge that he has any hope she 
 would ever consent if he were to ask her ; yet, from some 
 things that have dropped from him in the course of con 
 versation, I should not be surprised if she loves him full 
 as much as he does her. But, sir, perhaps you and I can 
 do much towards bringing this thing about. You have 
 unbounded influence over him. He looks upon you, sir, 
 as even more than a father." 
 
 " I have always, Mr. Tremain, regarded this relation as 
 one with which third persons should never intermeddle." 
 
 " I agree with you perfectly, sir, on that point ; that is, so 
 far, that the parties themselves shall have no outside in 
 fluence in the matter of their regard, one for another.
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 283 
 
 The action of their hearts must be a free, spontaneous 
 emotion, and in this case, we should have nothing to do 
 with that. But Herbert will be up here in the boat to 
 night; it was my request that he should come, for I might 
 need his aid in satisfying Miss Stanley's scruples about 
 breaking with Blanchard, she having been so long under 
 his power. When it came to the pinch, she might demur, 
 and want to put the matter off; but, sir, something must 
 be done, and that, too, without a moment's delay. The 
 money Blanchard has bargained for, is all ready ; the pa 
 pers are all drawn, and everything ready to close the mat 
 ter up this very day, and it would have been done, but 
 for my interference. The man who loans the money, is 
 one of my most intimate friends. He tells me all his 
 transactions. I advised him not to let the money go out 
 of his hands, until he had Miss Stanley's name to the 
 mortgage deed, and he has taken my advice, and in all 
 probability Blanchard will come up in the same boat to 
 night, to get this accomplished. We must be beforehand 
 with him, if we can. We must see her before ten o'clock 
 to-night, and I shall use all my influence to prevent her 
 signing those deeds ; and then, sir, we must, if possible, 
 get her to come back with us to your house. Herbert will 
 be here unexpectedly to her, and he must do what he can 
 to get her consent to be his wife, and then we can settle 
 matters, sir, in short order." 
 
 The Doctor listened with profound attention while Mr. 
 Tremain was in his business style, thus arranging for the 
 sudden union of parties who were to seal their life's des 
 tiny by a decision of only a few hours time. He was not 
 used to such hasty proceedings ; it was his habit to look 
 well around and examine carefully before he took any im 
 portant step himself, or advised others to do so. But 
 more especially in this case was he unwilling to decide 
 hastily. William Herbert he loved with almost parental 
 affection. His influence over him, he had reason to be 
 lieve, was greater than that of any other friend. To ex 
 ert it under such circumstances, and for such an end, was 
 at once repugnant to all his sense of propriety. It was, 
 therefore, some time before he made any reply to the sug 
 gestion and reasoning of the gentleman ; so Mr. Tremain 
 again remarked :
 
 284 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 " You see, my dear sir, if any tiling is done, we have no 
 time to lose." 
 
 " That is very true, sir. I feel for the young lady, and 
 can appreciate the necessity for prompt and strenuous 
 measures. It may be, the step you propose is the best pos 
 sible, but I have my doubts whether the parties them 
 selves will consent to it. To use my power over a young 
 man who looks to me for guidance, and who from pecu 
 liar circumstances, regards my advice almost with rever 
 ence in a most serious matter ; but sir, this I will do. I 
 will accompany you to Mr. Blanchard's, and endeavor 
 to persuade Miss Stanley to return with us. I will also, 
 if William comes, have a free conversation with him, and 
 ascertain his views and feelings ; further than this I can 
 not promise at present." 
 
 " Good, good, sir. Now let us hurry off as fast as pos 
 sible." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 We left Mr. Blanchard under very unpleasant circum 
 stances. He had blundered into a difficulty, and knew 
 not well how to get over it. Very soon after his second 
 interview with Mrs. Jemima, he retired to his room for the 
 night. He wanted to be alone and think over matters, 
 and see what course he must take ; and he could not but 
 hope that the lady upon reflection, would herself perceive 
 that he had not really made any proposals to her, and that 
 his conduct at the close of their interview, manifested 
 anything but pleasure at the tokens of her regard. But 
 Mrs. Jemima's conduct the next morning, and through the 
 day, whenever she had an opportunity to be alone with 
 him, showed clearly how she understood matters. She 
 would address him in low, confidential tones, and with all 
 the tenderness her voice was capable of. He was distant, 
 reserved, and kept himself out of her way as much as
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 285 
 
 possible. Fortunately for him, but very unfortunately 
 for Miss Stanley, she returned about the middle of the 
 day. Her presence afforded a foil against the obnoxious 
 attentions of Mrs. Jemima. It was a great relief to him, 
 to have one with whom he could converse without being 
 obliged to listen to confidential remarks, and soft and ten 
 der tones. Eva had come home sooner than he expected. 
 His spirits rose, and he was quite amiable and talkative 
 that is, when Mrs. Jemima was not present ; but if Mr. 
 Jemima was not personally present most of the time, she 
 was there in spirit, and her body not far off. Her suspi 
 cions began to be aroused to an intense degree. The 
 marked change in Mr. Blanchard, as soon as Miss Eva ar 
 rived, his very particular attention to her, and the lively 
 manner in which he conversed, whenever her (Mrs. Je 
 mima's) presence was withdrawn, all tended to kindle a 
 fire within. She was nervous, restless, going in and out 
 apparently on very urgent business, but keeping most of 
 the time within hearing and seeing distance. 
 
 But the severity of trial was yet to come. Mr. Blanch 
 ard had been thinking hard all day, and had at last made 
 up his mind what to do. He dare not risk another inter 
 view. He would write a short note, and as he was de 
 signing to go to New York that evening, he would hand 
 it to her as he left, or he would leave it with Eva to give 
 it to her. It was not an easy matter for Mr. Blanchard 
 to write such an article, and it required several sheets on 
 paper to be wasted before any thing in right shape could 
 be accomplished. The following, however, he finally set 
 tled upon as the best he could do, it certainly was ex 
 plicit. 
 
 " COUSIN : You have misunderstood my intention. I 
 did not ask you to marry me. I merely wished to let you 
 know that I intended to get married ; and that I wanted 
 your assistance in making matters smooth. I hope you 
 will take it all in good part, and let it pass as a mistake. 
 I shall be back soon as possible. 
 
 Yours truly, &c." 
 
 On leaving, he handed the letter, directed and sealed, to 
 Eva, saying
 
 286 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 "There is a little misunderstanding between Aunt Je 
 mima and me, and this note will explain things to her. 
 Will you please hand it to her after I am gone ? " 
 
 " Oh, certainly," replied the innocent, guileless young 
 lady, " with pleasure." 
 
 And very soon after Mr. Blanchard had left, with a 
 pleasant smile upon her countenance, she placed the doc 
 ument into the hand of the lady. 
 
 "Who is this from?" 
 
 " I suppose, of course, from Mr. Blanchard he asked 
 me to hand it to you." 
 
 " Asked you ! " 
 
 Eva did not reply, for she saw that the countenance of 
 Mrs. Jemima was distorted by that almost demoniac scowl 
 which, at times, marred her visage ; and was about to go 
 into her own room, when Mrs. Jemima caught her arm. 
 
 " Don't go come in here with me I want to talk 
 with you." 
 
 The clasp about her arm was so severe, and the tones 
 of the voice so stern, that Eva was somewhat alarmed, 
 although she endeavored to conceal her feelings, and 
 yielded at once to the request. As Eva took a seat, the 
 infuriated woman turned the lock of the door and put the 
 key in her pocket. She then went near the lamp in order 
 to read more particularly the letter which had so worked 
 up her wrath. Eva was one of those gentle natures, that 
 not only shrink from contention as the sensitive plant 
 shrinks from the touch, but a stunning effect is produced 
 upon the mind, that prevents a proper possession of the 
 faculty of thought and speech. She sat, therefore, mute, 
 and for a few minutes scarcely exercising her thinking 
 powers. An undefined dread of the person within whose 
 power she had so suddenly been placed, she had long in 
 dulged. She knew her to possess an ungovernable tem 
 per. It had never as yet been brought to bear upon her, 
 and she had been careful to avoid all difficulty with her ; 
 in fact, she had very little to do with Mrs. Jemima or Mrs. 
 Jemima with her. She had her own rooms, and her old 
 nurse to wait upon her. She took her meals with the 
 family, or if indisposed, they were carried to her room ; 
 and of late Mr. Blanchard had been very particular in see-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 287 
 
 ing that every attention was paid to her when at the ta 
 ble, or that the very nicest of every thing on the table or 
 in the house was provided and sent up to her when, for 
 any cause, she did not come down. This, no doubt, was 
 noticed, and had its influence ; but hitherto, however Mrs. 
 Jemima may have felt, she had treated the young lady 
 with all respect. And yet this dread which Eva felt, had 
 some foundation besides the mere fact that the lady had 
 a very violent temper. There were rumors of a very un 
 pleasant nature that had only of late reached the ears of 
 Eva, and perhaps no one in the family besides herself 
 had heard them. They had come to her through Aunt 
 Betsey or Lizzie as she was more generally called, her 
 nurse, who had, just before she left New York, met with 
 an old acquaintance who had lived in the family of Mrs. 
 Jemima, and was there when Mr. Richards died ; and she 
 affirmed it as her belief that "it was no natural sickness 
 which carried off Mr. Richards, and that the doctor said 
 his disease was a very strange one ; and it was her firm 
 belief he either poisoned himself or it was administered 
 by somebody else. She also believed a cei'tain person 
 was not a bit too good to do it. She is a very devil when 
 she gets a spite against man or woman." 
 
 Now Aunt Betsey, whether wisely or not, had commu 
 nicated this gossip to Eva but to no other person, and Eva 
 had strictly charged her never to open her lips to any hu 
 man being on the subject, and likewise said it was no 
 doubt a foolish suspicion on the part of the person who 
 had told her. And yet Eva was somewhat affected by what 
 she had heard, and the more so, as she had of late at seve 
 ral different times when in company with Mrs. Jemima and 
 Mr. Blanchard, on turning her eye unexpected by that lady 
 in the direction she was sitting, been not a little startled 
 at perceiving the peculiar expression on that lady's coun 
 tenance, and as their eyes met, Eva instinctively turned 
 away ; there was something in the look that sent a chill 
 to her heart. And now all these circumstances are work 
 ing in her mind, and yet so perfectly unconscious was she 
 of having done ought to cause the displeasure of the lady, 
 that she could not quite make herself believe there was 
 reason for any fear. What she dreaded most was witness-
 
 288 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 ing some outbreak of passion, and being perhaps com 
 pelled to hear the outpouring of her wrath upon some 
 member of the family. While Eva was thinking, Mrs. Je 
 mima was reading ; it took longer to do this than the length 
 of the epistle seemed to require, perhaps the writing was 
 not very legible, or she read it over more than once, that 
 she might be sure of its contents. Having, however, at 
 length finished the task, she crumpled the letter up in her 
 hand in a passionate manner, and approaching Eva held 
 out the clenched hand very near to her : 
 
 " And you know all about this." 
 
 Eva trembled, but her self-possession was returning 
 she answered in as calm a manner as possible, 
 
 " I know nothing whatever about it." 
 
 " You do you know you do don't lie to me." 
 
 This violent and vulgar address brought the rich blood 
 to Eva's face ; she fixed her mild blue eyes fixedly on the 
 angry woman. 
 
 " You forget, Mrs. Richards, whom you are addressing. 
 I am not used to such language, and shall not remain here 
 to listen to it open the door and allow me to depart." 
 
 " I shall not do it, you have got to hear me." 
 
 Eva started and hastened towards the window, design 
 ing to call for help, but the infuriated wretch caught her, 
 and with main force compelled her to take a seat ; Eva 
 indeed did not resist, she felt too indignant to struggle 
 against the violence offered her. 
 
 " Now you shall hear me yes you shall. You want 
 to marry Blanchard and he wants to marry you, and all 
 you both are afraid of is the children, and he wants me to 
 be a go-between, and make it all smooth for you both. 
 I shan't do it I shan't do it and more than that, I 
 warn you. Mind that I warn you. Think of marrying 
 Blanchard at your pei-il ! See what will come of it. Mind, 
 I warn you do you hear ! 
 
 Eva heard and she saw too, for as though under a 
 fascination she kept her eye fixed on the countenance of 
 her persecutor, and never before had she witnessed in a 
 human being such marks of deadly passion. The cheek 
 was pale, the eye glassy and distended, the brow contract 
 ed, the lips pale and trembling, and the whole visage an
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 289 
 
 image of terror. To reason with a person in that condi 
 tion, or to deny the accusation, Eva knew would be- use 
 less ; she therefore merely stood upon her own rights. 
 
 " And who gave you authority, Mrs. Richards, to inter 
 fere with me in any way. I am not amenable -to you or 
 any one else." 
 
 "Yes, you are yes, you are. ' Mr. Blanchard shall 
 never marry you, much as you want to have him ; and let 
 me tell you more, all the family know what you are after. 
 Why did you come up here, when you knew the children 
 were not coming? You knew you would be alone with 
 him, and that is what you wanted ; but take care, ta*ke 
 care. I warn yoli." 
 
 How much of truth there was in what the angry wo 
 man was saying, Eva did not know. She had been some 
 what alarmed of late by the peculiar manner of Mr. Blanch 
 ard towards her, it might be indeed that the family had 
 some suspicions too, such as Mrs. Jemima hinted at. There 
 Avas something for her to think of. She saw at once how 
 her conduct might be misconstrued. As she was too busi 
 ly occupied with these thoughts to make any reply, Mrs. 
 Jemima stood over her in silence, apparently ready, at any 
 moment, to commit any act of -violence, when the sound 
 of a carriage was heard entering the yard. It was, no 
 doubt, Joe returning. He had been to the landing to car 
 ry Mr. Blanchard. Whether she feared the coachman 
 might obtrude upon them with some message from Mr. 
 Blanchard, or satisfied with the warning she had given, 
 she commenced walking the room, then suddenly taking 
 the key from her pocket, unlocked the door and departed. 
 
 Eva sat a few moments pondering over the scene she 
 had passed through, and then, in a very disturbed state of 
 mind, retired for the night. Under present circumstances, 
 however, it was no easy matter to resign herself to sleep. 
 Her nerves had been violently shocked, and as she lay 
 upon her pillow, the heavy throb of her temples caused 
 her to change from side to side in restless agitation. At 
 length she forgot the commotion of her frame, by fixing 
 her mind intently on the circumstances in which she was 
 placed. The story which her nurse had told her, came 
 with great force to her mind. The behavior of that wo-
 
 290 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 man had confirmed her worst suspicions. She believed 
 her capable of any evil act under the influence of her vio 
 lent feelings, and a terrible fear took possession of her 
 mind. How long she laid in this state of tumultuous 
 thought, she could not tell, but she supposed it to have 
 been some hours, when her attention was arrested by hear 
 ing footsteps approaching her room. Her light was not 
 extinguished. She arose and sat up in her bed. The 
 latch of her door was turned, and the door gently opened. 
 She was not in the habit of fastening it. There stood the 
 woman who had so filled her mind with terror. She was 
 clad in her night-dress, her face deadly pale, her eyes dis 
 tended, but the angry scowl had disappeared. In one 
 hand she held a small lamp, and in the other a tumbler 
 half filled with a colored mixture. Eva said not a word, 
 and for a moment the tall white figure was stationary, then 
 it approached the bed. 
 
 " I was afraid you could not sleep. I am sorry I said 
 what I did, you must not mind it. My feelings were 
 worked up by that letter. I am very sorry, and I have 
 brought you a little something to calm your nerves, so 
 that you may rest. I was very foolish, but you must not 
 think of it any more. Here, take this, dear, and then lay 
 down and try to sleep. Is Aunt Betsey asleep ? " 
 
 Aunt Betsey, as she called her, lay in the adjoining 
 room, and the door between the rooms was partly open. 
 As the glass was handed towards Eva, the hand that held 
 it shook visibly, and the tones of the voice were broken 
 and low, manifesting an agitated spirit. 
 
 Eva took no notice of what had been said further than 
 to reply to the last question. 
 
 " I presume she is, I have not been in her room." 
 
 " Well then, take this, and forget what has happened, 
 and try to sleep. I am afraid you will be sick." 
 
 " What is it ? " said Eva, taking the glass. 
 
 " Only a little lavender and water, and a few drops of 
 laudanum not more than ten. Take it all, it wont hurt 
 you." 
 
 " I don't think I need it". Laudanum never agrees with 
 me." 
 
 Eva had raised it near enough to her lips to perceive
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 291 
 
 so strong a flavor of the article she disliked, as to make it 
 offensive. She therefore said, 
 
 " Please put the tumbler on the table, and if I feel the 
 need of anything I can get it," and she handed it back to 
 the woman. As Mrs. Richards took it, her fingers touch 
 ed those of Eva they were cold as death. 
 
 " You don't forgive me, then. You wont take it because 
 1 have brought it to you." 
 
 The voice began to assume a harder tone. 
 
 "I don't need it." 
 
 " You are afraid of it." 
 
 Why should I be afraid of it ? " 
 
 " And Eva fixed her eye on the visitor ; that of the lat 
 ter quailed before her earnest gaze, and for the first time 
 since entering, the color mantled her cheek. She replied 
 in a sharp tone. 
 
 " How do I know ! " and in a hurried manner she left 
 the room, carrying the. draught, whatever it was, with her, 
 her manner evidently the reverse of what it was at her 
 entrance ; and Eva could hear the passionate slam at the 
 door as Mrs. Richards entered her own room. 
 
 Eva now arose, and bolted her own door, and then took 
 a seat and began to reflect on the state of things. Her 
 mind was not slow to act when once aroused. She could 
 not stay in that house she did not in very distinct 
 terms place before her mind all the reasons, but leave 
 her present abode she must, and she believed that could 
 only be done by a clandestine departure, for no doubt re 
 mained in her mind that even violent measures would be 
 \ised to prevent her going away under present circum 
 stances. 
 
 Mrs. Richards had parted from her under the conscious 
 ness that she, Eva, suspected her of an evil design 
 what she had done, Eva knew ; what she was capable of 
 doing she could not tell, but her suspicions were too 
 powerful to allow her to venture an attempt at resistance 
 to the will of such a woman, or to remain subject to her 
 designs. Joe, the coachman, she knew was completely un 
 der her influence, an eye servant at best ; the gardener, 
 who lived in the porter's lodge, had a bad name, and was 
 known to have a violent temper. Blanchard wished to get
 
 292 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 rid of him, but feared to offend him by turning him away ; 
 and the women in the house were as subservient to Mrs. 
 Richards" as if they had been slaves. As has been said, 
 too, the house was in a very lonely, secluded spot, sur 
 rounded by mountains and woods, and no neighbors with 
 in a mile at least. 
 
 The only plan that appeared feasible to Eva was to 
 leave the premises at once, and on foot endeavor to reach 
 the house of Mrs. Sandford. The distance was six miles ; 
 it was night, and the road for the greater part of the way 
 ran through dense woods, and but a few dwellings scat 
 tered at considerable intervals, but she feared not the 
 darkness nor the loneliness of the way, and at that hour 
 of the night there was no likelihood that stragglers would 
 be met, from which cause alone she need have any fear. 
 Her only doubt was in reference to her old nurse, should 
 she infoi'm her of the course she was about to adopt ? 
 The old lady was asleep, to wake her and make explana 
 tions would consume time and most likely she would in 
 sist on accompanying her. That would be impossible, the 
 old lady could not accomplish the journey, and the dis 
 turbance made in arousing her and preparing her for 
 going would excite the suspicions of Mrs. Jemima, whose 
 room was next adjoining that of the nurse. She decid 
 ed to leave her in ignorance, and as soon as she found a 
 place of safety herself, the old lady could be sent for. 
 
 Moving in the most cautious manner, she arrayed her 
 self for the journey and then extiguished the light. Af 
 ter having unbolted and opened her door, she proceeded 
 with the greatest care along the corridor to the stairs. 
 She had to pass the room in which Mrs. Jemima slept, 
 a light was burning there, it could be seen reflected 
 through the key-hole on the opposite wall ; when near to 
 it she paused and listened. The woman was still up, and 
 was walking about the room apparently busy about 
 something. For a moment she was tempted to return, 
 but concluded to venture on. Step by step in the most 
 noiseless manner she began to descend the stairs ; one of 
 the steps creaked under her tread. Again she paused and 
 listened^ all was still ; in a moment more she heard a door 
 open it was the door of the lighted room. Almost 
 choked by her beating heart, she was only kept from falling
 
 * - 
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 293 
 
 by a tight hold of the balustrade. The noise had been 
 heard, and no doubt the inmate of the room was listening 
 for its repetition ; the light from the room was sufficient to 
 make Eva perfectly visible should any one look over the 
 upper railing. Again the door is closed, and at the instant 
 she descended the stairs and reached the hall. The front 
 door was the only one she knew by which she could es 
 cape, for the rear one opened into the back yard and gar 
 den, around which was a high fence, and what, was worse, 
 a furious dog was kept there and at night unchained. 
 
 As she put her hand forth to feel for the key, to her dis 
 may it had been withdrawn ; for what reason she did not 
 know ; but her mind, now thoroughly filled with dread, 
 at once put the worst construction upon it. She thought 
 quickly of the windows from the front parlor, but their 
 fastenings were complicated, and one of these in particular 
 went with a spring that made considerable noise ; howev 
 er, as no other way of egress seemed feasible, she resolved 
 to venture removing the bolts of the shutters. After hav 
 ing raised the window, she with main force attempted to 
 restrain the spring as she pressed the hasp, but her feeble 
 strength had little effect ; its rebound echoed through the 
 room and the hall, and could doubtless be heard by any 
 one awake in the house. She waited not, however, to 
 ascertain its effect, but springing through the window on 
 the piazza, made all the speed she was capable of across 
 the carriage path into the grove, and from that to the path 
 through the woods ; this, she knew, led, after several wind 
 ings, into the highway, or at least into an open road, and 
 the one she designed to take, as being less likely to have 
 travelers upon it. 
 
 She had not gone far when she turned herself towards 
 the dwelling, and she could plainly perceive, through the 
 openings in the wood, that lights were passing through 
 different parts of the house the noise had alarmed them, 
 and they were doubtless searching for her. Like a crim 
 inal fleeing from justice, she took the alarm and hurried 
 on, occasionally pausing for a moment to listen if any 
 sound of approaching footsteps could be heard. 
 
 A mile was soon passed, and the path she was upon 
 would soon enter the more public road, when near tho 
 junction she stopped, for she thought she heard the rum-
 
 294 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 bling of a carnage. She was right, tho tramp of horses 
 and even the sound of voices reached her through the 
 still night air. It would not answer for her to remain so 
 near the road, and yet she wished to know whether it 
 was the carriage belonging to the family ; she therefore 
 stepped aside into the thicker part of the woods, and 
 drew nearer to the highway. . 
 
 On and on came the lumbering noise, and the quick 
 tramp of the horses told of rapid speed ; it was near at hand, 
 she could see its dark shadow as it flitted past. She recog 
 nized the voices of the two men who were seated on the 
 high cushion in front they were the coachman and the 
 gardener. Whether any persons were inside, she could not 
 tell. As soon as its sound had died away, she entered 
 the road and traveled on. What would have been the 
 result if she had been seen she did not know, probably 
 compelled by violence to be carried back to an abode 
 not only now hateful to her, but a place of terror. 
 
 The woods still skirted the highway on one side, and 
 she kept close to them as she could, as a refuge in case 
 the carriage should return that way, although she thought 
 its more probable course would be to return by the more 
 public road into which the one it was then on would in a 
 few miles further debouch. Although the lofty trees of 
 the forest made the way more dark and gloomy, yet she 
 dreaded the light more than the darkness. The refuge of 
 the woods, however, was at length lost, and for some dis 
 tance the road was skirted by stone fences. She kept near 
 to the one on the side of which she was walking, in the 
 hope if the carriage did return that way, she might hear 
 it in time to escape from notice by climbing over into 
 the adjacent fields. 
 
 Suddenly she thought she again heard the distant rum 
 ble ; she paused and laid her hand upon the fence, but the 
 sound ceased, and again she proceeded. A slight hill was 
 before her, and she made as much haste as her weary 
 limbs would allow, in the hope that on reaching the sum 
 mit she might have a sight of some dwelling, as she be 
 gan to fear her strength would not hold out to enable 
 her to accomplish the object of her wish, in reaching the 
 homo of her friends. 
 
 She had nearly reached the top when a noise as of
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 295 
 
 horses' feet again fell upon her ear. She paused yes, she 
 had heard aright, and again her hand was on the stone 
 wall. She attempted to raise herself up ; it was out of 
 her power to surmount the obstacle, and to her utter dis 
 may, but a few rods ahead she saw the dreaded object 
 rising to the top of the hill and approaching her. She was 
 petrified with terror ; she did not even have presence of 
 mind enough to stoop so as to afford no chance for any 
 pai-t of her person to be seen above the line of fence. 
 The moon had set, but it was light enough for persons ac 
 customed for some time to its dimness, to distinguish ob 
 jects. When opposite to her, the carriage halted ; the two 
 men whispered to each other a moment, and then one of 
 them sprang from the seat and approached her. She 
 stood perfectly still, too much alarmed to be capable of 
 motion. 
 
 " Is this Miss Stanley ? " It was the gardener's voice. 
 
 She made no reply. 
 
 " Joe, step here. Can you leave the horses ? " 
 
 The coachman sprang down, and coming close to her 
 
 " Miss Stanley, is this you ? We've been looking for you 
 this two hours ; Mrs. Jemima is most frightened to death. 
 Come, please, get in, you must be very tired." 
 
 The voice of the man, its tones being kindly, somewhat 
 relieved the poor frightened girl, and she began to exercise 
 her reasoning powers. They would, no doubt, use force 
 should she resist the request ; to prevent such humiliation 
 she concluded the better way would be to yield and go of 
 her own accord ; so, without answering, she walked as 
 well as she could to the carriage. It was with great dif 
 ficulty, however, that she was able to reach it. Her limbs 
 trembled violently, and when once upon the cushions, 
 settled down as helpless as an infant. The carriage went 
 on with great speed, and very soon was at the door of the 
 dreaded mansion. Mrs. Jemima was there, and so was 
 her old nurse, and the servants of the house. Without 
 answering any questions, or taking notice of any one but 
 the old friend of her childhood, whose arm she took, glad 
 even to have that support, she proceeded at once to her 
 own room, followed by Mrs. Jemima and the servants. 
 As they entered the room she said in a mild voice, 
 
 " I shall not need your help, girls."
 
 296 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 They were .about to return when their mistress, in a 
 stern manner, called out, 
 
 " Don't you stir a step, either of you, until I bid you. 
 Mrs. Betsey, you can take the small spare bedroom for the 
 night. I and the girls will take care of Miss Stanley." 
 
 " Why is that necessary, Mrs. Richards? " said Eva. 
 
 " I think it necessary, that is enough. Jane, bring a 
 mattress and pillow and lay down here. You heard my 
 request, did you not ? " turning to the nurse and looking 
 at her with her fierce countenance. The old woman, with 
 the tears streaming down her face, cast one piteous glanco 
 at her dear Eva, and then left the room. 
 
 Mrs Richards, having locked the door and put the key 
 in her pocket, ordered one of the girls to go to rest on the 
 mattress, while the other sat up for the next two hours, 
 when they could change places ; but to be sure that one 
 of them should keep wide awake, and to call her if any 
 difficulty occurred. She then retired into the room which 
 had been occupied by the nurse. 
 
 Eva, conscious of her present helpless condition, threw 
 herself, as she was, upon her bed, and wearied with excite 
 ment, and the labor of her journey, soon forgot her mor 
 tification and trials in profound sleep. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 In the afternoon of the second day after the scenes de 
 scribed in the last chapter, Mrs. Jemima was up in Eva's 
 room, using her best endeavors to get the poor girl to 
 taste some of the food she had prepared for her. 
 
 I' I insist upon it, now, that you eat some of this broiled 
 chicken and drink this cup of tea. You must do it, you 
 cannot live without eating." 
 
 " I have eaten all I want." 
 
 " What have you eaten ! nothing but crackers! You 
 cannot live upon them and cold water. You will bring 
 Borne terrible sickness on to you." 
 
 Eva did not reply.
 
 
 LOOKIKG AROUND. 297 
 
 " Come, now, I have coaxed you long enough ; eat this 
 you must, do you hear me ! " 
 
 Eva still was silent. She sat in her rocking-chair look 
 ing very pale and sad. 
 
 " Mary," said Mrs. Richai'ds, " go right down and call 
 Joe up here, and tell Jane to come too. I will see wheth 
 er she can't be forced to eat." 
 
 "Mrs. Richards," said Eva, starting from her seat and 
 with a stern countenance looking her tormentor full in 
 the eye, " offer such an insult to me, as to bring that man 
 servant into my room, and you shall bitterly repent of 
 your injustice. You have me in your power now, bat I 
 have friends who are able to protect me. You have al 
 ready abused your trust, in your shameful treatment the 
 past two days, and I warn you not to add this further vio 
 lence to my feelings. Mary," turning to the young wo 
 man, " bring that man up here at your peril." 
 
 What the enraged woman would have done at this bold 
 resistance to her authority, it would be impossible to say, 
 for just then the servant woman came up from below, and 
 entering the room, said : 
 
 " There are two gentlemen below, wishing to see Miss 
 Stanley." 
 
 " Didn't you tell them she was sick ? " 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Richards, I didn't just say she was sick, 
 but I said I would see if she could come down." 
 
 " You would see ! Go right down and tell them she is 
 sick, and not able to see any one." 
 
 "That would be telling an untruth, Mrs. Richards," 
 said Eva, who had thrown her shawl about her. " I will 
 relieve Jane from doing that by going down myself." 
 
 " Going down yourself! " 
 
 " Yes, raadam, and if any violence is used to hinder 
 me, I shall call aloud for help." 
 
 " Mrs. Richards began to feel that she had earned this 
 matter as far as pradence would permit. She saw that in 
 Eva's eye, that caused her to pause in her reckless course. 
 She, no doubt, had hoped that the scene through which 
 the young lady had passed would have deranged her ner 
 vous system, and afforded a good pretext for the stringent 
 measures she had adopted. In this she had utterly failed. 
 13*
 
 298 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 Eva had retained her self-possession. She had not eat 
 en of the food sent up to her for reasons perfectly satis 
 factory to herself, but she had by a strong will kept her 
 mind calm and steady, and those about her felt conscious 
 that she was entirely self-possessed, and in the use of her 
 reason. All that Mrs. Richards had to say, was, 
 
 " Go down then, and tell as many lies as you please." 
 
 Without making any reply to this rude speech, she at 
 once descended to the parlor. 
 
 Both gentlemen rose as she entered. 
 
 " Oh, Doctor Ransom ! " she exclaimed, " how glad I 
 am to see you ! " 
 
 " Allow me," said the Doctor, " to introduce to you Mr. 
 Tremain, a gentleman from New York city, who wishes to 
 see you on some special business." 
 
 " And my first business, Miss Stanley, is to endeavor to 
 persuade you to accompany us to the house of this rever 
 end gentleman ; but you seem to be unwell ! are you able 
 to endure the ride ? " 
 
 " Perfectly so, sir. . But have you a conveyance that 
 that can accommodate my old nurse as well as myself? I 
 shall not in all probability again return to this house, and 
 the old lady will be very much in the way here." 
 
 " We have a carriage and pair of horses, and can not 
 only accommodate the lady you speak of, but your trunks 
 also, if you wish to take them." 
 
 The conversation was now interrupted by the sudden 
 entrance of Mrs. Jemima. She had not been far off, and 
 had overheard enough to know what was going on. 
 
 Without making any obeisance to the gentlemen, she 
 addressed herself to Eva. 
 
 " You know that your uncle is expected home to-night, 
 or to-morrow night. He will think very strange that you 
 should leave his house and take your nurse and baggage 
 with you ; and he will be very much displeased, that you 
 may know for he is your guardian, and you have no 
 right to leave his house without permission ; and mind, I 
 forbid it, and if you go, it is at your own peril and those 
 who enticed you away." 
 
 . " My good madam, we will free you from all responsi 
 bility to Mr. Blanchard, or any body else. Tell Mr. Blanch- 
 ard that Miss Stanley has gone with the advice and under
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 299 
 
 the protection of Mr. Tremain of New York, and tell him 
 moreover, that she shall have the best of care ; and now 
 Miss Stanley, the sooner you can be in readiness, the bet 
 ter." 
 
 The decisive manner of the gentleman was rather a 
 damper to Mrs. Jemima's temper. She had designed, when 
 she entered the room, to have a great deal to say, but she 
 began to think it would be of little avail. So, as soon as 
 Eva left the room she followed, and it was not long before 
 Aunt Betsey, assisted by one of the girls, was coming 
 through the hall with one of the trunks. 
 
 " The way seems wonderfully prepared for us," said Mr. 
 Tremain. " I think," said Doctor Ransom, " there must 
 have been some difficulty Miss Stanley's appearance 
 would indicate that she is far from being well. I never 
 saw greater alteration in any person in so short a time." 
 
 Mrs. Jemima again enters. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen, I think it is a great risk for you to 
 take Miss Stanley away in her present condition ; here 
 have I and my servants been obliged to watch her night 
 and day for two days past, for fear of her getting out and 
 losing herself, may be, in the woods and dying there, and 
 nobody know any thing about it." 
 
 " But what makes you think, madam, there is any dan 
 ger of such a calamity as that ? " 
 
 " Reason enough. It was but two nights ago, she slip 
 ped from her room in the dead of the night and went out 
 through one of the lower windows. I heard a noise, and 
 when I found she was gone, sent our carriage and two 
 men in pursuit, and they found her on the way to the 
 meeting-house.' ' 
 
 " What reason did she give for going ? " 
 
 " I never asked her the reason, but I watched her close 
 ever since ; and I tell you now she ain't well, and she 
 will do some mischief to herself if she ain't watched, and 
 Mr. Blanchard will be very angry when he hears how she 
 has been carried oflj and he isn't a man to be put upon in 
 such a way. 
 
 " We will settle all that, madam, with Mr. Blanchard. 
 And here is my card you may forget my name please 
 hand him that, and tell him that gentleman will bo re 
 sponsible for all damages."
 
 300 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 Eva now appeared ready appareled for the journey, and 
 very soon the little party was on its way, leaving the 
 gloomy abode of "Woodbend at a rapid pace. 
 
 The carriage, at Eva's request, was driven to the home 
 of her friends, the Sandfords. She did not indeed feel 
 well, and she wished once more to feel herself in the arms 
 of that lovely woman, who had manifested such deep in 
 terest for her welfare. 
 
 It was just at the edge of evening when the carriage 
 stopped, and as Eva entered the house, leaning on the 
 arm of Mr. Tremain, Mrs. Saridford met them ; and the 
 poor excited girl, exhausted by the terrible strain upon 
 her physical and mental powers, threw herself into the 
 arms of her friend, helpless as an infant. She was assisted 
 to a sofa, and in a few moments gave vent to a passionate 
 flood of tears. 
 
 Leaving her to the care of her friend, Mrs. Sandford, 
 the gentlemen, at the invitation of Mr. Sandford, adjourn 
 ed to another room, and were for some time in earnest 
 consultation as to what steps had best be taken. At 
 length Mrs. Sandford entered, her countenance manifest 
 ing deep emotion. 
 
 "Our dear Eva has been treated most shamefully 
 cruelly." 
 
 " I thought so," replied Mr. Tremain, " by whom ? 
 Blanchard ? " 
 
 " No, by that hateful woman, his cousin, or house-keep 
 er, or whatever she is," and Mrs. Sandford in few words 
 repeated the scene of trial the poor young thing had 
 passed through^ and adding, " this is not all ; she says 
 'she never can be an inmate with Mr. Blanchard again,' 
 and calls upon all who care any thing for her, to res 
 cue her from his power. Oh ! " said Mrs. Sandfoi'd, " how 
 I do wish William Herbert had not gone. Once Eva in 
 her agony exclaimed, " Oh, William, William, why did you 
 leave me ? " 
 
 The three gentlemen looked significantly at each other, 
 Mr. Tremain merely saying, " let it work." 
 
 " Mrs. Sandford," said Mr. Tremain, " can vou keep a 
 secret?" 
 
 " Sometimes," she said smiling, " when I make a prom 
 ise to that effect." 

 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 301 
 
 "Well, you look as if one might trust you. "William 
 Herbert will be here this evening." 
 
 She raised both her hands. I thought he had sailed ! " 
 
 " No, he will not sail until the day after to-morrow. 
 Don't you think it would be a happy thing all around, if 
 our two young friends could be married ? " 
 
 "Married!" 
 
 " Yes, madam, married. That will, at once, free her 
 from all annoyance. She will be under the protection 
 of a husband, and all trouble of procuring a new guardian 
 prevented. Something must be done, and that without 
 any delay, or she will become a dependent on the care of 
 Blanch ard. Can you not prepare her mind in some way 
 for such a step, without letting her know that Herbert ex 
 pects to be here ? I think that had better be a surprise." 
 
 " I don't know. She is very peculiar. Why, they are 
 not even engaged ! " 
 
 " Are you not very sure they love one another ? " 
 
 " I think they do. I think there is an ardent attach 
 ment on her part, and if I am any judge about such mat 
 ters, on his, too ; but a woman, you know, does not like to 
 be hurried into matrimony. I fear Eva would never con 
 sent under such circumstances. Only to think of it! 
 Married one day, and the next her husband on the ocean! " 
 
 " But such things have been, to my certain knowledge, 
 and will likely be again. Sometimes we must submit to 
 circumstances, and make the best of them. But in this 
 case, it will not be married one day and off the next, but 
 married at nine o'clock in the morning and off at ten. 
 What do you think of that, madam ? " 
 
 " I think it would be dreadful ! It would be cruel ! Oh 
 dear ! I never could have the heart to propose such a 
 thing. Eva would doubt my friendship." 
 
 " Well, my dear madam, your good husband knows, for 
 I have told him just how things are situated. There is 
 great danger that before a new guardianship could be ar 
 ranged, every dollar of that girl's property would be 
 wheedled away. Blanchard-has now unlimited power, . 
 a wonder to me a parent could ever have placed a child 
 in such a situation but, by the same will, as soon as she 
 marries after she is eighteen, she and her husband become 
 possessed in fee of all her property, another strange
 
 302 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 clause without her father anticipated her marrying Her 
 bert, in whom, I believe, he had great confidence. But so 
 it is. If she marries William Herbert to-moi'row morn 
 ing, she is a free woman ; her property free from the grasp 
 of a shall I say it ? Yes, I will, for I believe it of a 
 rogue ! If she does not, it is my candid opinion she will 
 be in a short time penniless." 
 
 "I think," said Mr. Sandford, "that Mr. Tremain is 
 right, and all her friends can do to accomplish the thing, 
 they ought to do." 
 
 " And I too," said Doctor Ransom, " cannot but come to 
 the same conclusion. I have been looking around at this 
 matter in all its bearings, and although under common 
 circumstances I should most decidedly object to such pro 
 ceedings, yet, as the young lady is situated, there seems 
 an evident propriety in the measure, if she can be brought 
 to assent to it." 
 
 Mrs. Sandford returned to her friend, who was now en 
 joying the luxury of a good meal. Free from guile her 
 self she was not the most suitable person in the world to 
 accomplish the task assigned her. Again and again she 
 essayed to bring up the subject, but her tongue refused to 
 bring out the idea. 
 
 As young Herbert was to meet Mr. Tremain at the 
 house of Doctor Ransom, the two gentlemen, about the 
 hour in which he was expected, returned to the parsonage. 
 It was about half past eight when a gig stopped before 
 the door, and Mr. Tremain, who was on the watch, being 
 intensely anxious for the appearance of Herbert, ran out 
 to the gate. 
 
 " Ah ! my dear fellow, how are you ? " 
 " Mr. Tremain ! glad to see you, sir. Mr. Roland, Mr. 
 Tremain." 
 
 Herbert had sprung from the gig and given his hand 
 to his employer, when seeing Roland about to depart, 
 
 " But you are not going ! you will come in surely and 
 see the Doctor." 
 
 " Do you think it best ? " 
 
 "By all means, and it may be, since I have taxed your 
 politeness so far, that I may need your services a little 
 further;" and then turning to Mr. Tremain, "is Miss 
 Stanley here?"
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 303 
 
 " No, but she is not a great way off she is at the Sand- 
 fords come in, Mr. Roland, come in, sir ; why, if I had 
 such a delightful neighbor as the Doctor, I should want 
 to be running in every evening, he's a trump, sir." 
 
 " You are right there, I believe, sir," said Roland as he 
 xlighted. 
 
 The meeting between Doctor Ransom and Wflliam was 
 marked with much cordiality ; although on the part of 
 the former, there was a seriousness of manner mingled 
 with tenderness. 
 
 " My dear boy, I am rejoiced to see you again, and I 
 cannot but hope a kind Providence has brought you just 
 at this time for an important purpose." 
 
 Not comprehending the allusion, William looked intent 
 ly at Mr. Tremain. " Any difficulty ? " 
 
 " Nothing particular, only I want to have a little private 
 talk with you." 
 
 " Go into the study, then, gentlemen." 
 
 William immediately led his friend into that sacred 
 place, while the Doctor at once engaged young Roland 
 in conversation on some topic of interest. It seemed a 
 short time that they were absent, when Mr. Tremain 
 re-entered. 
 
 " Doctor, I believe you are the only person who can 
 do any thing with that young man ; you have instilled 
 into him certain principles, and you alone can get him to 
 deviate from them. The young fool ! would you believe 
 it, gentlemen, is romantic enough even to wish yes, I 
 believe in my heart he wishes it that that orphan girl 
 might be stripped of all her property, just that he might 
 have the pleasure of taking care of her ; he loves her 
 dearly, but he wants to have her dependent on himself 
 alone, the foolish fellow ! " 
 
 And Mr. Tremain walked up and down the room evi 
 dently greatly excited. 
 
 " I honor him for his noble feelings," said young Roland. 
 
 "Yes, yes, that is all very well for you young men, who 
 know nothing about the world ; but how does Herbert 
 know where he will land himself? Business is precarious, 
 ten thousand chances are flying about the world to pre 
 vent the accumulation of property, or to strip it away 
 when it is gathered ; three years from now, he may be
 
 304 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 pretty well off, or he may not have a cent and here is 
 a property, earned by long years of hard labor, about to 
 be squandered merely for the sake of sticking to a princi 
 ple hang such principles." 
 
 And again the excited gentleman resumed his tramp 
 about the room. 
 
 The Doctor had been seated during this scene, with his 
 eyes bent down, and with a very serious cast of counte 
 nance ; he saw the difficulties in the way, and* had seen 
 them all along, but he was looking round, and deeply 
 agitating the question, " how they were to be met." Af 
 ter Mr. Tremain had closed his last address, the reverend 
 gentleman raised his head, and in a calm, subdued man 
 ner, thus delivered his views : 
 
 " There are some principles, gentlemen, derived from 
 the express teachings of the word of God, which can nev 
 er be allowed to bend to circumstances, they are immuta 
 ble and cannot be compromised ; there are others which we 
 may lay down for the regulation of our own conduct, right 
 in themselves, and perhaps founded on our own past ex 
 perience, or on what we have witnessed of their opera 
 tion, or their neglect in others ; these should always be 
 maintained firmly, but not with such tenacity that they 
 may not be made to yield, when a rigid adherence may 
 cause disaster to ourselves and others. William cannot be 
 blamed for having formed some ideas of the married rela 
 tion that have made a very strong impression on his mind, 
 and if you all know, as I do, the discipline he has passed 
 through in his early life, you would not wonder that he 
 shrinks from violating the rule he has laid down for his 
 own course in this respect ; but I think he is not so wed 
 ded to his principles in this matter, but that a fair expo 
 sition of the case will lead him to see what duty requires, 
 and to yield to it." 
 
 Mr. Tremain had stopped when the Doctor began to 
 speak, and listened attentively ; the moment the reverend 
 gentleman had closed, he came up to him. 
 
 " Will you not, then, niy dear sir, go at once and try 
 what you can do to set things right ; for I am well con 
 vinced the fellow's principles on this subject are neither 
 founded on scripture, nor reason, nor even common sense. 
 The Doctor' smiled at the earnestness of the gentleman,
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 305 
 
 and immediately rose to depart ; but ere he reached the 
 door, he turned again. 
 
 " I tell you what I think, gentlemen ; that a few min 
 utes' interview between these young folks under the pres 
 ent circumstances, will do more to settle matters than all 
 our persuasions. Providence has, it seems to me, been 
 preparing their minds for the result." 
 
 " I only hope he will carry it through, then," said Mr. 
 Tremain, and again he is walking to and fro, and every 
 little while looking at his watch. At length, as though 
 his patience was exhausted, he exclaimed, 
 
 " I am afraid the good Doctor will be as long in eradi 
 cating those principles, as he calls them, as he has been in 
 hammering them into that foolish fellow. It is well enough 
 for a man to have principles, but he needs a good stock of 
 common sense in carrying them out." 
 
 " The Doctor himself seems to have a good share of 
 the latter article." 
 
 "Yes, yes, he has, a very sensible man. I wish they 
 would hurry a little, thei'e I believe they are coming. 
 You are going with Herbert, are you not ? Be alive, 
 there, my good fellow, and drop in a good word to help 
 along. Don't say any thing about noble feelings, and all 
 that all that is well enough in its place. Ah, Will, how 
 are you ! How do you feel, my good fellow? This was 
 said as William entered the room, preceded by his old 
 friend. Mr. Tremain took his hand. He saw that the 
 yo'ung man looked sad, and seemed much excited. He 
 placed one hand kindly on his shoulder. 
 
 " My dear boy, keep up a good heart. Things will be 
 brighter one of these days." 
 
 William did not speak, his feelings were too strongly 
 excited. Young Roland arose. 
 
 " Are you ready, Herbert ? " 
 
 William bowed assent, and they left the house in com 
 pany. 
 
 " I wonder," said Eva, as she was reclining on the sofa, 
 to her good friend who had been sitting beside her, and 
 beguiling the time by her pleasant converse, " why it is 
 that Mr. Tremain has said nothing to me about the busi 
 ness for which he said he wished to see me." 
 
 " You appeared so unwell, dear Eva, when he left you
 
 306 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 here, that no doubt he thought you would be better pre 
 pared in the morning, after a good night's rest, to attend 
 to it. 
 
 " Perhaps I shall. I feel much better already. Oh what 
 a precious thing it is to have a friend ! " taking the hand 
 of Mrs. Sandford. 
 
 " You have a good many, dear Eva." 
 
 " Yes, I believe I have more than I deserve. Do you 
 know I am very selfish." 
 
 "Not peculiarly so, I should judge; to me you seem 
 the opposite of that." 
 
 " What I mean is, I have thought too much of my own 
 consequence, and have not thought enough of others. I 
 have for that reason dealt hardly with William. I have 
 not thought enough of the circumstances in which he was 
 placed, poor and dependent on his own efforts, too noble 
 minded to crouch or endure insult, and yet I have charg 
 ed him with trying to forget me, when now I see that he 
 could not have done otherwise." 
 
 " But, dear Eva, your mind may be at rest about that ; 
 you surely feel satisfied now, that he loves you, and you 
 cannot deny that you love him." 
 
 " I do not wish to deny it." 
 
 " You feel, dear Eva, do you not, as if you were engag 
 ed to each other." 
 
 " Oh, no, by no means." 
 
 " Would you after all that has passed, feel yourself at 
 liberty to accept an offer from any other gentleman ? " 
 
 " By that you mean, could I love another ? I have nev 
 er asked myself the question. The thought has never 
 crossed my mind. Can a woman ever love but once ? " 
 
 " I cannot say, dear. I think she never can. The idol 
 which her mind worships, and to which her heart has 
 yielded, is not likely to be embodied in two individuals." 
 
 " It sounds so strangely to me to hear people speak as 
 they do about offers, and sometimes blame young girls for 
 not accepting such a favorable offer, just as if a woman 
 could help it and could force herself to love." 
 
 "The reason is that, in general, young girls are so de 
 pendent, their only chance for a station in life is by their 
 connection with one who can place them in an establish-
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 307 
 
 ment of their own. You are differently situated, dear 
 Eva. You are independent, and I hope may always be so. 
 What a pity it is that William Herbert did not allow your 
 father to place his name in the will as joint executor! " 
 
 " Yes, it seems so now." 
 
 The conversation was here interrupted by the stopping 
 of a carriage at the door. Mr. Sandford, who was in the 
 next room, was heard walking rapidly through the hall. 
 Eva arose quickly and sat up. 
 
 " Did you hear that voice ! " she said. " How it sounds 
 like William's ! " 
 
 " How is she ? " was now heard distinctly. Eva clasp 
 ed the hand of Mrs. Sandford with both of hers. " Stay 
 by me, dear. I have no command of myself. Can it be 
 William!" 
 
 " It may be." 
 
 At that moment the door opened. Eva arose as Wil 
 liam entered. She stepped towards him their hands 
 were clasped. She looked up into his face and saw his 
 anxious, tender look, and then gently leaned her head upon 
 his breast and wept, his arm was entwined around her. 
 
 "My dear, dear Eva mine now forever is it not 
 so?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, forever." 
 
 " No cause for weeping, now, dear Eva. You are mine 
 and nothing but death shall tear you from me." And 
 saying this, he led her gently to the sofa, and sat beside 
 her, still folding her in his warm embrace. 
 
 Mrs. Sandford was about to retire, but Eva requested 
 her not to go, and William added his entreaty. 
 
 " You have witnessed our betrothal. We have nothing 
 to say that cannot be said in your presence." 
 
 " Eva, dear Eva, there are reasons why this union of our 
 hearts should be at once consummated by a union of our 
 hands. As your husband, I shall be your guardian. Your 
 independence is in imminent danger. I do not propose 
 this, I tell you frankly of my own will'; but our best 
 friends advise it, and my own judgment overpowers my 
 sense of delicacy." 
 
 " When I last saw you, William, I told you I would do 
 whatever you thought best. Your will, hereafter, must 
 be mine."
 
 308 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 Mrs. Sandford's warm, loving heart, was wrought up to 
 the highest pitch ; she was weeping in sympathy with the 
 sweet girl, and when she heard the last sentence, she fold 
 ed her arm about her neck and kissing her, said,' 
 
 "Dear Eva, you have a true woman's heart ; may God 
 reward you in the richest of earthly blessings, a true 
 husband's love." 
 
 William was much affected. He had a strong will, and 
 tears could be restrained when those around him were 
 weeping; but the scenes were new, the feelings aroused 
 were never experienced, never imagined by him before, 
 and his whole nature yielded to the hallowed influence of 
 the moment, and now the drops stole silently along his 
 manly cheeks. 
 
 But the hours were passing ; if rest could be had it 
 would be required for the morrow. The few arrangements 
 were soon agreed upon, and at eight o'clock in the morn 
 ing, the ceremony was to take place, that was to bind 
 these loving hearts in God's holy covenant of marriage. 
 
 Young Roland, who had been apprised of all that was 
 desired to be accomplished, and had entered heartily into 
 the plan, was dispatched to the parsonage to notify the 
 friends there of the happy issue, and to inform them of 
 the hour at which the ceremony was to take place. 
 
 It was something of a trial to William, to tear himself 
 from his dear Eva, but he knew that she required rest, 
 and his sisters must be visited before he could himself 
 sleep that night. Their surprise and joy, at seeing him, 
 was for a moment damped by the tidings he had to com 
 municate ; but it was only a momentary shock. They 
 knew they should not lose a brother but would gain a 
 sister, and with joy they embraced him as they parted for 
 the night, their minds all alive with gladness at the pros 
 pect of the morrow. 
 
 As William had formed quite an attachment to young 
 Bradford, he and Roland were invited as his groomsmen, 
 and his two sisters were chosen by Eva, as her maids at 
 the ceremony. 
 
 . There was early rising on that morning, for every 
 adornment must be gathered up that the occasion de 
 manded, and all seemed determined that it should not be 
 a slip-shod wedding. Eva had happily a dress of suitable
 
 LOOKING AROUND. 309 
 
 color, which she had never worn before, and which she 
 determined never to wear again until the return 'of her 
 husband, when, if God so willed it, she would meet him 
 with each jewel, ribbon and flower that decked her as a 
 bride. 
 
 Roland, too, was up early, for he was to accompany 
 William and Mr. Tremain to the city with his carriage 
 and four horses. He had business of importance to be set 
 tled there, intimately connected with that in which they 
 were concerned. He had also to provide some luxuries 
 from his wine vault, which he brought forth without stint. 
 Donald was determined to do all in his power to impart 
 gladness to the hearts of the guests. A great change had 
 come over him of late, he was no longer the recluse of 
 former days. How it has come about must be revealed in 
 another place. 
 
 " I told you," said Mrs. Sandford, as the guests were 
 chatting together, just before the ceremony, " that our 
 gathering on board that sloop, and especially the episode 
 of the storm would likely have a bearing on our future 
 lives, and I think our present gathering proves that I am 
 something of a prophet." 
 
 " I frankly acknowledge " said Roland, " that I have felt 
 its influence, and look back upon it as a new era in my 
 life." 
 
 " And that ' breaking of bread ' at your hospitable 
 board, it has given me a new relish for breakfasts ever 
 since." 
 
 "And that Eastern custom," said Roland "has that 
 been strictly observed ? " and he looked at Mrs; Sandford 
 for a reply. 
 
 " No sir. She will talk about some of her guests." 
 
 " Only good though now papa you know that but 
 here comes our good minister." 
 
 The bridal scene was soon arranged, and the solemn 
 vows registered on earth and in heaven ; and Eva Stan 
 ley stood by the side of William Herbert, his lawful 
 bride, their hearts long united, and now their union 
 sanctified by the seal of God. 
 
 As the friends came up to congratulate the happy pair, 
 happy indeed that there was an end to all doubt, no pow 
 er of man could now interfere with their union or sepa-
 
 310 LOOKING ABOUND. 
 
 rate their interests, but still that happiness clouded 
 with the thought that years must intervene before the 
 full fruition of their hopes could be realised. Mr. Tre- 
 main took the hand of the bride. 
 
 "I congratulate you most heartily my dear young 
 friend, that you have chosen such a prudent guardian. I 
 would trust him, myself, with all I have in the world. 
 And seeing you have shown yourself such a true woman, 
 and have borne yourself so nobly through this whole 
 scene, I have concluded to tell you that I shall make ar 
 rangements that will shorten the period of his absence. 
 In a year from now I shall hope to see you together at 
 my house, and give you a jolly wedding party. Now 
 may I have a kiss." 
 
 Eva had stood it out nobly, as Mr. Tremain said. No 
 one present could have told from her appearance that 
 she anticipated in two short hours a separation from him 
 to whom she was plighting her faith, but this sudden 
 turn in the wheel of destiny, the lopping off as it were 
 of two long years of hope deferred, aroused every warm 
 emotion ; her countenance glowed with happiness, her 
 eye sparkled. She threw her arms around the kind- 
 hearted friend, and wept for joy. 
 
 Partings are hard, when friends who truly love have to 
 separate, make the best you can of them. And they all 
 did try to do that all but Mrs. Sandford. She couldn't 
 try. Hr heart was so sensitive, she was so alive to their 
 feelings, that the more they tried to restrain their feelings 
 the worse she felt, until her husband came up to her 
 and said, 
 
 " Do, dear Carrie, you had better go to bed and cry it 
 out." 
 
 But they have not gone yet, and another carriage is 
 just added to that which is before the gate, with its four 
 blooded horses ready for a start. And the exclamation 
 passes round, 
 
 " Blanchard's carriage ! " 
 
 And sure enough, it was so, and the gentleman himself 
 immediately alighted, and another after him. 
 
 " What can that mean ? " said Roland to Mr. Sandford. 
 
 " It means mischief but he is too late." 
 
 Blanchard walked up with rather a proud and haughty
 
 LOOKING ABOUND. 311 
 
 gait, and stood upon the stoop. Mr. Tremain was the 
 first to encounter him. 
 
 " I demand of you, sir, to deliver up to me my ward, 
 whom, I understand, you took away from my house yes 
 terday, in a clandestine manner." 
 
 " All true, except clandestine there was nothing clan 
 destine about it. But say, Blanchard, suppose I don't 
 choose to deliver her up, and suppose she shouldn't choose 
 to go with you." 
 
 " Then, sir, I have the sheriff of the county with me, 
 who will see that my rights, as guardian, are respected. 
 Let me see her, sir." 
 
 " Blanchard, come in, come in here here? pointing to 
 a room opposite the one to which the gentleman was 
 going. "Don't put your head in there, it might be taken 
 off." 
 
 " Now, Blanchard," said Mr. Tremain, " I have a secret 
 to tell you. Do you know we have had a wedding here 
 this morning?" 
 
 " A wedding ! no, how should I know ! " 
 
 " Well, it is a matter you are interested in, any how 
 so I'll read an advertisement to you that I have written 
 to put in the New York morning papers 
 
 MARRIED. 
 
 At the village of Woodburn on the morning of the 26th June 18 
 by the Rev. Doctor Ransom, Mr. William Randolph Herbert, of the 
 firm of Tremain & Co., to Miss Evaline Stanley, daughter of the late 
 Robert Stanley, Esq., all of this city.'" 
 
 Blanchard arose, he was deadly pale, his knees trem 
 bled, and his whole frame was in agitation. 
 
 " And for this purpose you stole away that poor, foolish, 
 crazy girl." 
 
 " I advise you, Blanchard, not to repeat the epithet 
 you have applied to that young lady. And if you will 
 take my advice, given to you in good faith you do or 
 say nothing that will prejudice you in the minds of those 
 two young people. You are now helpless as regards her, 
 and you well know, that by the will of her father, her 
 husband becomes seized of all her property ; and bear in 
 mind, he is personally acquainted with the exact condition 
 of that property, when it came into your hands. Take
 
 312 LOOKING AROUND. 
 
 care then, walk s.ofily my warning is given in good 
 faith." 
 
 Blanchard made no attempt to reply, he was not so 
 stupid as to think the words he had listened to were mere 
 bravado, nor so blind as not to see the gulf on whose 
 precipice he was standing. Without a word more, he 
 left the room, ascended the carriage, followed by his com 
 panion, and was driven off towards his home," in all prob 
 ability a bankrupt in name and property. 
 
 " Now, boys, for the city," said Mr. Tremain, as he came 
 into the room where the parting scene was to take place, 
 " the horses are prancing, they are in such haste to be on 
 the way, and so am I, here away from my darling wife 
 for two whole days, how do you think I stand it ? com 
 ing up to the lovely bride and addressing her. 
 
 " Your noble, generous heart sustains you." 
 
 " And may God sustain you, my dear girl ; and remem 
 ber, after this, I am Father Tremain that boy has got 
 a father and a good one, too. Well, .good bye, Doctor, I 
 wish you had come at our call, and I am glad you haven't, 
 for if all I hear is true, you are doing more good here, 
 than you could ever hope to do among us, miserable sin 
 ners in New York. Come boys, come" this was said just 
 as he had taken Eva in his arms and given a paternal kiss. 
 And then out he hastened, as no doubt he was unwilling 
 to witness the last embrace of William and Eva. And 
 we will leave too. 
 
 The Author has a word to say to the reader, who has 
 had the patience to go through the present work. You 
 have, perhaps, become somewhat interested in a few of 
 the characters, who may have acted an important part in 
 the development of the story, but of whom it has been 
 hinted, that more was yet to be said. As there are scenes 
 of deep interest, connected with their history, which 
 could not be brought out without increasing the present 
 work to a forbidding bulk, he has concluded to carry out 
 the story in another volume ; and Providence permitting, 
 you shall not wait long for its completion.
 
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