our very constitution. It assumes a thousand different symptoms, and ever, in this most trifling occurrence, the proud man betrays his feelings, when he assails the door with the short, sharp, violent knock which distinguishes him, and which seems to threaten frowns, and severe reproof, if not dismissal, to the tardy domestic: the tyrant lord of the little domicile, he makes the sounding brass the herald to proclaim the arrival of the deathblow to mirth, and the damper to cheerfulness and hilarity; it is advisable to give him speedy admission, lest, like the impatient horse, he champ the bit and increase his fury. How strangely does his vehement decision contrast with the tremulous rap-tap of the humble dependant, who seems to fear the very knocker will reject his touch. Accustomed to the obvious mortifications and common calamities which men of mean fortunes are liable to, he learns to bear them with composure; but those little insults which dwindle into nothing when we try to describe them are yet more cutting and insupportable. He feels that his birth entitles him to give the double knock which despotic custom has made the peculiar privilege of gentility, though he is persuaded that if he avails himself of this privilege his appearance will bring upon him the sarcastic sneer of the pampered menial: having therefore summoned energy enough to give the first blow, fear of his reception paralyzes his hand, and the engine falls powerless from him. Alike in all things, the vulgar man cannot even touch this common appendage to the door without betraying awkwardness; in noise, he generally emulates the footman, but wanting the tact and constant practice of that professional disturber, he is usually one note deficient: by the arbitrary laws of custom, one knock seems to be the menial's right; the postman makes a repetition which is peculiarly his own, and the thrice repeated strike is the exclusive privilege of the gentry. Availing himself of this privilege the real gentleman makes known his wish to enter, with a gentle though decided rap-tap-tap, which neither threatens destruction to the slumbers of the inmates, nor agitates the nerves even of an invalid. The lover hastens to the door of his mistress full of hopes, and speculating upon a thousand visions of happiness; he hastily seizes the agent of appeal for entrance, the sound recalls him from the land of enchantment to dread and drear reality, and the finishing stroke is marked by doubt and distrust; but should smiles and affection beam in the countenance of his dearer self, and his pretensions be admitted, his knock then assumes a confidence which bespeaks him the acknowledged and welcome guest; the servant who before retained his easy seat, hesitating whether or not to reply immediately to the half uttered appeal of the doubtful visitant, flies to admit the confident lover, and the sounding talisman reverberating through the house, suffuses a lovely face with blushes. The cold phlegmatic man is so uniform a character, and pursues the even tenor of his way so closely, that it is barely possible to fancy any rain-drops large enough, or any lightning vivid enough, to induce him to hasten his pace, or quicken his unalterable, solemn, protracted, and thrice reverberated blows. But with what anxiety do we not listen to the hurried knock of the postman! How multifarious are the feelings which he can call forth! Hope and fear, love and rage, pleasure and despair, all attend his steps; nor is it possible for any other single individual to influence the feelings of an equal number of persons; for all ranks, all sexes, and all ages, yield to his magical sound. The rosy schoolboy listens with breathless anxiety, and flies to tear open the welcome letter, which tells him the day that shall release him from the restraints of school, and fold him in the arms of a loving and beloved mother. To this happy age it is seldom that the postman is not a welcome visitor but it is not with childhood only that he deposits his freight of happiness; often does he confer competence, and long sought for enjoyment on the anxious father of a dependent family; light up the features of an affectionate sister with delight, while she reads of the increasing fame of a brother, perhaps the companion of her infancy; or excite those heavenly sympathies in the maternal heart, that endearing tenderness which transcends all other affections, which none but mothers know, none but mothers feel. Happy would it be if his unvarying knock was always the harbinger of such hallowed feelings; but, callous as the iron he strikes, he too frequently brings desolation where all before was cheerfulness: he tells of friends that are faithless, lovers that are false, creditors that are inexorable, children that are parentless, and parents that are childless. Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some; TO THE HAREBELL. SWEET flower! though many a ruthless storm While the proud breast no peace shall find, C. C. |