rine Society, and deposited in their museum, which has to the real torrent, rushing in all its living bears the date 1630. According to tradition also, grandeur with its thousand ever-changing hues and this tree, with many others, was brought over in a aspects." pot filled with earth; but probably was not placed in its present situation until 1632 or 1633. "Oh! how magnificent you Virginians always are," said Henry, smiling good humoredly. "My ideas compared to yours, are as a colored picture There is an original portrait of Gov. Endicott yet extant, in a somewhat dilapidated condition, into the bona fide Niagara. But let that pass; for which, however, the face is entire. From this we learn that his countenance was open, energetic and independent, and possessing withal much benevolence of expression. According to the custom of the age, he wore mustachios upon the upper lip, and a tuft of hair upon the chin. SONNET.-TO INEZ. BY ALTON. The wild-flower wreath of feeling- Sweet Inez! if with candor I should dare, With kindness, feels for other hearts betrayed- Far more a heart, which may in grief console! SKETCHES OF SOUTHERN LIFE. NO. I. on some points, especially where State pride is concerned, a Virginian is absolutely incorrigible. You must at least admit, Philip, that there are certain immutable principles of right and wrong, which circumstances cannot alter; concede but this, and the defences you have been constructing with so much ingenuity for your Southern Institutions, which is the present mode of phrasing what cannot be called by its right name, without pronouncing its own condemnation, will fall like a house of cards at the first puff of wind." A half sigh of impatience escaped from Philip, involuntarily, as he replied, "It is strange that you cannot, or will not, perceive, Livingston, that the strictness of mathematical deduction cannot be applied to moral subjects. If pure, eternal, immotable principles of right and wrong were to be applied without regard to existing circumstances to the affairs of this world, every army, every gov ernment, on the face of the globe would be swept from it, all the usages of society subverted, and chaos would return to cover the earth. Do you not see, as well from the sacred records, as from the pages of profane history, that men are educating to a knowledge of good and evil, that in order to obtain this knowledge they are placed in various circumstances, often surrounded by so much that is evil, that they can only choose in conduct the least evil, they can only steadily endeavor to approximate to what is good. The principles of each individual should be based on pure, eternal, immutable morality, as far as he is capable of understanding it; but in working out these principles, his conduct is so much controlled by the evil existing around him, which it is impossible for him to remove, that the utmost that can be done by the best man is often to draw all the possible good he can from the evil circumstances around him, whilst he endeavors to change and modify these circumstances as much as lies in his power." "Why, my dear fellow, try to pervert your own sense of right, by defending what is in itself indefensible," said Harry Livingston, in reply to his "These generalities always carry with them a friend, Philip Seyton, with whom he was discus-show of philosophy," said Henry; "let us come sing Southern institutions, character and usages. to specialities." "You know nothing of what you are talking "Well then, for example, we all admit our penal about, Harry, and it is a mere waste of words to code to be very imperfect, yet a good man mest discuss the subject farther. You know nothing of conform to the laws of his own country, because country life; your ideas are drawn from an artifi- greater evils would arise from their violation, than cial state of things. Except a year or two spent from conformity to them. But let me entreat you in college, your life has been spent in this good to waive this discussion for the present, and incity of New York. Your notions are formed from stead of worrying ourselves with interminable distheory and from misrepresented facts, and have putes on this vexed question, just go home to Virabout as much resemblance to the realities of things ginia with me, spend some months at my father's in Virginia, as that colored engraving of Niagara house, and then I will admit that you have a right to form an opinion, and will talk to you of our enor- remote idea that they would ever meet; and had mities as long as you please." 66 "That is another Virginia characteristic," said Henry, laughing; "you have the most extraordinary tenacity of opinion, and do not think it worth while to bestow even a moment's attention upon the views of others." shown her a tale published by Henry in one of the Northern magazines, the scene of which was laid in Virginia, describing in the most glowing colors and pathetic language, a state of things which had no existence but in his own imagination. Fanny loved her native State with her whole heart, and "You forget, my dear Livingston, that I have was so sensitive as to all that regarded the honor listened to you at least a hundred times, with con- of Virginia, that Philip was wont to amuse himself tinually increased conviction that you were in the with the indignation, which any attack upon it exwrong. But a truce to all this. I admit that I cited in his sister, and had thus thoughtlessly creapossess the Virginia characteristic, if you choose ted a strong prejudice against his friend in her to call it so, of loving my own way, and have al- mind. ready taken steps to effect my purpose. I threw Philip and Henry set out for Virginia; performout some hints last night to your father on the sub-ed the journey in the usual uneventful manner of ject, and I think he would have no objection to modern times, and arrived at the appointed day at your accompanying me home." a steamboat landing on the Potomac. Philip point Henry looked pleased and surprised. "To say ed out to his companion an old fashioned carriage, the truth, Philip, you could not make a more agree-somewhat the worse for wear, which circumstance able proposition, and I will not make a merit of was more conspicuous from the beauty of the spiragreeing to what is so pleasant to myself. But ited young bays that were harnessed to it; a venyou know I have the misfortune to be an only child, and am consequently scarcely a free agent; my father of course would not interfere with my motions, but very skilful diplomacy will be necessary to obtain a willing acquiescence from my mother." erable looking negro was standing near them, on the lookout, with an air of pleased expectation too evident to be mistaken. "There is old Cesar faithful to the minute," said Philip. Nothing could less have resembled what Henry "Depend on me for conducting that negotiation Livingston had imagined to be the demeanor of a successfully. I have only to allude to your severe slave, than the air of affectionate, yet respectful illness two or three months ago, speak of the deli-familiarity with which Cesar approached his young cacy of your appearance, enlarge upon the neces-master, with whom he exchanged a cordial shake sity of change of air, amusing the mind, &c., &c., of the hand, saying, "I'm mons'ous glad, mas Phil, and Mrs. Livingston will certainly acquiesce. So to see you looking so well." Then turning toyon have nothing to do but put up your clothes, forget you theories, put your mind in the state of an impartial and enlightened traveller about to visit an unknown country, and be ready to set off at a moment's notice." wards Henry, with the air of one evidently assuming his best manner, and bowing like a gentleman of the old school, he addressed him in the most courteous tone, saying, “We're happy, sir, to see you in old Virginny. Henry returned his salutation with much surprise, a shock had already been given to many of his preconceived notions as to the necessary relation subsisting between master and slave, and his wonder increased as he continued to observe the manner of old Cesar and his friend towards each other and to listen to their conversation. "How are they all at home, Cesar?" "Thank God, mas Philip, we're all reasonable. We were all mons'ous afeard last week that old master was gwine to have a touch of the gout, but as good luck would have it, it went off again, and he looks as well as ever now." Philip was delighted to find that Mrs. Livingston lent a ready ear to his eloquence, entered into his plan quite willingly, and yet his pleasure scarcely equalled that of his friend. Mrs. Livingston, however, insisted on a few days delay, to make some necessary arrangements, she said, though in fact it was rather to accustom herself to the idea of Henry's departure, than for any other reason. Philip wrote a few hasty lines to his father to apprise him on what day Henry and himself would probably arrive, that he might send a carriage to meet them at the steamboat landing; and added a postscript to his sister Fanny, to beg that she would remember Livingston was the best friend he had I am afraid he will not keep well; he can never ever had, and receive him with cordiality and kind-forget that he is no longer a young man. ness. He was aware, he said, that he had him- pose he still rides and walks in all weather?" self prejudiced her against his friend, though unintentionally, and he knew it was her weakness to betray her feelings involuntarily, by her manner. Philip had repeated on former occasions to his sister, many of Henry's speeches respecting Southern usages, as he did not then entertain the most I sup "Yes, just the same, though Miss Fanny and me both often begs him to take more care of himself, but he always says he wont make no old woman of himself, and he must see after his own consarns, and you know, mas Phil, overseers wont do without looking after, even the best of 'em, but now you've come home, I hope every thing will go | put his hand in his pocket, and gave me a twist of straight." Fhilip was much amused at Henry's look of amazement, as he continued to draw the old man out, and went on-" Well how do you all like the new overseer; my father wrote me that he had turned off Mr. Wilson and engaged a new man. What is his name?" "It is Mr. Thomas, sir, son of the old Thomas that your grandfather used to let live on one of his forest plantations. He is a right smart, stirring sort of a man, and seems to get on tolable well yet awhile; but you know, mas Phil, a new broom sweeps clean, and I'm fraid master 'll soon spile him. You see master is a true gentleman of the real grit, and he don't understand the natur of overseers; he allows 'em too much; he lets 'em have their own swing too much." tobacco, and said we must be friends again, and I'm sure he don't bear me no malice; for whenever he sees me, he is after joking with me 'boat Tecomseh." Philip knowing this theme would be inexhausti ble, gave another turn to the conversation, by say. ing-"What has been going on in the neighborhood; are any of the girls, or young men married, since I went away?" Oh, yes sir, two or three weddings has happened, Miss Emily Holmes had a mons'ous fine wedding 'bout two months ago; all the gentlefolks in the country was axed, and Miss Emily said she wished you had been there." "Whom did she marry?" "Some outlandish gentleman, or forennur; I don't rightly remember his name, but he was a "Don't my father still interfere in the manage-dreadful poor match for such a lady as Miss Emily." ment of the servants ?" “Why, what sort of a man is he?” "Well I never heard no harm about him, but he never was used to land and niggers, and he don't know what to do with 'em now, no more than a "Oh, to be sure, sir, master would'nt allow no one to be too hard upon his servants; indeed, he wont let the overseer be strict enough, for you know the young ones must be whipped some-baby. Miss Emily's people are mightily discontimes." "I hope, Cesar, my horses are in good order; but I dare say, you have not been able to prevent the young men from riding them when they pleased, and I know George Scott is pretty hard upon horseflesh." Cesar laughed triumphantly. "He has never got upon Tecumseh yet, though. Whenever any one sent to borrow him, master always said you had left Tecumseh in my care, and told me all that was to be done with him, and whenever mas George wanted him, I always had some excuse ready, until at last he found me out, and I had to tell him right down, I could'nt let nobody ride Tecumseh until you got back, as I was 'sponsible for him." Philip laughed. "Well, but I had rather George should have ridden Tecumseh, than to have offended him." tented, they say the man a'nt bad to 'em, but then he's got such trifling, pertersome sort of ways.” Philip laughed outright as he looked at his friend and said, "What sort of ways do you mean?" "I hardly know how to tak you Mas Phil, one thing is making all the people eat upon plates, and such a fuss about keeping their houses clean, and so puttiklar, they say it most runs 'em mad, every thing must be in its place, and then he talk to them out of such a high dictionary, Miss Emily has to explain to the servants right reg'lar what he says to them, and she cant keep from laughing at him herself sometimes. But I cant remember half of his 'rangements as he calls 'em." Cæsar seemed suddenly to recollect that it was not exactly accordant with the ideas of good breeding for Philip and himself to engross the conversa tion entirely, and turning towards his young master, with an instant change of voice and manner, be pointed to a lot of fine cotton and remarked— a 66 Maybe the young gentleman would like to see crop of cotton, if it dont grow in his country." Henry smiled kindly at Cæsar and replied, "Oh, he did'nt stay mad, and he knowed it was my doings;—to be sure, he swore at me at first, and called me some hard names; but then he could'nt stay mad with me. Says I, mas George, you know I've most raised you, as I may say, ever since you were a little thing knee high, and you know I never make any difference between you "It is a new sight to me, and a very pretty one and mas Phil; many a thing has I done to please too. I begin to think," he added, with a side glance you, and if mas Phil was at home now, I would'nt towards Philip, "I shall see and hear strange things say a word agin your having Tecumseh. "Tis in this country of yours. But what a rich, beauti hard to abuse an old nigger 'bout trying to do what ful field of corn that is on our right hand." is faithful and just, and mas Phil, you know puts "Yes, that is right pretty corn, sir, but you mest all his dependence in me 'bout his horses. Mas George is a true gentleman; he held out his hand to me directly, and said, 'Well, Cesar, I dare say you mean to do what is right, though it is cursed obstinate and disagreeable, and I know as well how to use a horse as any man in Virginny.' Then he look at our meadow corn if you want to see a ral fine crop. I b'lieve, sir, all the gentlemen in the country allows our meadow corn to be the best any where about." Henry smiled again, to see how completely Cess: identified himself with the family to whom he be longed, and before they reached Oak Grove, for this as he perceived Mr. Seyton advancing to meet and was the name of Mr. Seyton's residence, he had welcome them. His dress was so unfashionable, met with many facts quite irreconcilable with his that Henry would have laughed at its oddity had theories. he met him in the streets of New York, but when he recollected that he was a Virginia gentleman and Philip's father, he felt no sentiments but those of respectful interest, which were heightened by the impression produced by the intellect and benevolence beaming from Mr. Seyton's countenance, and his courteous yet cordial greeting. As they approached the gate which led to the mansion, a group of negro children appeared, grinning with delight at Mas Philip's return, and eagerly conten ding for the honor of being the first to open the gate for him. Though generally ragged and dirty, the exuberant gayety of childhood, when left to enjoy uncontrolled, like the flower, or the weed, But however pleasing the impression which Mr. (an apter simile in this case,) the genial influences Seyton's appearance and manner made upon Henof air and sunshine, was so apparent in these little ry, it was soon almost effaced by one much more creatures, that it was impossible for Livingston not vivid. As they ascended the steps of the portico, to contrast them with the sickly children of the de- a beautiful young girl, whom Henry knew at once stitute poor, that he often met in the streets of N. to be Philip's sister Fanny, advanced to meet them. Y., and feel an emotion of pity for the latter. Their It was not her beauty however, which immediately delight was increased to the highest pitch, when fixed the attention, and excited the interest of HenPhilip put his head out of the carriage window, ry Livingston, for he had seen thousands of bright and exchanged greetings with them. How goes and beautiful faces, but it was the peculiar style of it Joe?" "Why Sam you've grown so, I hardly it, that attracted him so forcibly. There was a knew you," and he ran thus through a catalogue natural grace of movement about Fanny, a light of names, some of which he had evidently mistaken that beamed from the full, dark hazel eye, which from the sly looks and smiles which the children seemed to emanate from the true, beautiful and exchanged with each other, but this was a trifling tender spirit enshrined in this fair casket, and a matter, as they all perceived that Mas Philip wished to bestow a due share of kindness on each. Henry Livingston, though he was in a mood to view every thing favorably appertaining to Philip's paternal mansion, could not help recollecting various descriptions of Irish establishments he had met with in the course of his reading, as he looked at the dilapidated gate minus a latch, that opened upon grounds extensive enough to surround a castle, and this ample extent filled with grass unconscious of a scythe since its existence, and noble trees growing in all the wild luxuriance of nature. The approach to the house was a semi-circular sweep, and as they came more nearly, the effects of woman's taste and neatness became evident, yet all the improvements wore the air of natural and unstudied simplicity, and the diamonds, crosses, and stars of verbenas, petunias and gay flowers, glaring here and there on the grass lawn, appeared as if they had sprung up of their own sweet will. I "This Oak Grove is a fine old place, Philip. do not wonder that you love it so much. If I had a home like this, I should feel about it as you do about yours." "Yes, it is to me the finest of all places, and yet," said Philip, laughing, "I shall not blame you, Henry, if Castle Rackrent should often occur to you, during your sojourn at it. When I left home, for instance, there was some caution necessary in ascending the steps of the portico, one of them being so loose as to totter at every motion, and my father had intended to have it repaired, until he had forgotten the very intention." charming mixture of timidity and frankness in her greetings to her brother's friend, which enchanted Henry Livingston. He gazed with delight too, on the radiant expression of joy which shone in those glorious eyes as they rested upon Philip, and thought it was strange he had never heard his friend mention the surpassing beauty of his sister. Meanwhile Fanny, totally unconscious of the favorable impression which she had made upon Henry Livingston, after the first ebullition of delight with which she had met her brother had subsided, began to run over in her mind the various deficiencies of furniture, plate, glass, &c., that she was sure must strike a person accustomed to a splendid establishment in New York, as very shabby, to say the least of it, and a passing thought too was bestowed on the extreme simplicity of her own attire, which was unpretending white, with no ornament but a blue ribbon around her neck, and white roses in her dark hair. Fanny did not, however, yield to the uneasiness which these petty disturbances occasioned her, but endeavored immediately to conquer it by chiding herself severely for feelings which Mr. Seyton had often told her originated in weakness and vanity, and she became gradually more cheerful, as she perceived there was not a shade of anxiety upon the brow either of her father or brother. Three years had now elapsed since the death of Mrs. Seyton, and from that period all the various cares of a Virginia establishment had devolved upon Fanny, and most onerous indeed was the task for one so young, and possessing so much natural vivacity of temper. Fanny's strong affection for Henry laughed, but there was no time for reply, her father and sense of duty, together with the ex VOL. XIV-60 "Then do, John, make haste, change the cloth, ring for Sam to help you to fix the plates and knives again on the table." "No 'casion for Sam, Miss Fanny, I can do it myself in no time at all.” But you would do it quicker with Sam's assis her usual gentle tone, but with an accent of autance; ring the bell at once John," said Fanny, in thority. gencies of each day, which forced her into action laid the key of the linen press; and he did not like without allowing time to ask counsel, even had to come back until she had found it." there been any one at hand able to advise her in matters of domestic economy, had stimulated her to use extraordinary efforts to acquire the necessary knowledge, and habits requisite for the well ordering of such an establishment as Oak Grove. Her attention was so constantly directed to the promotion of her father's comfort and interest, for she knew he had embarrassments that often pressed apon him, to the performance of her own duties to more than a hundred servants, duties more minute and complicated, than it is possible for any one who has not been educated amongst slaves to imagine, and to fulfil the social obligations that devolved on her as mistress of Oak Grove, that she had seldom leisure to think of herself. The personal cares and anxieties, often so exclusively engrossing to young ladies of her age, occupied but a small portion of Fanny Seyton's thoughts, which imparted to her manner one of the most powerful of all charms -an evident forgetfulness of self. Philip drew his chair close to his sister, and Fanny was soon so much interested in conversing with him, and admiring the improvement in his appearance and manner, that when she left the room to superintend some necessary household arrangements, had she been asked what she thought of Henry Livingston, she could only have said, that he had a pleasant voice, was a good looking young man, with a fashionable air, but was not half so handsome as her brother Philip. Fanny was, however, not so much absorbed in Philip's conversation, interesting as it was, as to be forgetful of the importance that all things should be properly ordered at dinner, and she accordingly withdrew, foreboding the usual number of mishaps, which generally attended occasions on which a more than usual degree of attention and neatness was necessary. As soon as she entered the dining room, she cast a scrutinising glance around to see what was amiss; the first thing which attracted her attention, was a stain of port wine on the table cloth. "John," said Fanny, addressing the old house servant, who was standing at the sideboard, "don't you see this cloth is stained; why didn't you ask Susan to give you one without a stain?" "Why. Miss Fanny, this is one of the finest table clothes in the house, and I didn't think that little stain there mattered much, I reckon I can hide it with one of the dishes." "Yes, but it does matter very much; go at once to Susan and get another table cloth; and pray make haste, you know papa will be in a hurry for dinner." John went out, and stayed an interminable time as it appeared to Fanny. He said when he returned, that he had been waiting for Susan who had mis "To tell the truth then, Miss Fanny, Sam has just gone to his mammy's to get clean clothes." Now, as Sam's mammy lived half a mile off, Fanny gave the point up, and began to make demonstrations of assisting herself, but this appeared to mortify old John so much that she desisted, and looked on as composedly as she could. "Now John," said Fanny," you must get out the old China dishes, arrange the glass, and the dessert in the pantry, and I will direct you how it is all to be set out, that there may be no bustle and mistakes." John looked perplexed and distressed-he stood silent for a minute, as if pondering how to impart intelligence almost too bad to communicate, and then said in a hesitating tone "Miss Fanny, a'nt you never missed one of them old China dishes?" "No," said Fanny, in a dismayed tone, “I hope none of that old China is broken; you know how much papa values it, because it has been so long in the family, and it would be impossible now to match it. Who could have been so careless as to break it ?" "Ah, Miss Fanny, I've seen trouble enough about it; I know'd how much 'twould flustrate you and master. It all came of Sam's carelessness; he slipped down and broke the dish, and I would have given him a good whipping, but ever since that day you told me not to whip him, you know I a'nt had no control over him. Youngsters must be whipped, Miss Fanny, else they'll always be de ing some mischief." Fanny sighed, turned to the China press, and selected a dish which she thought might be substi tuted for the broken one. ordered John to get the glass dishes for the fruit to The China difficulty being settled, Fanny then be used at the dessert; but to crown her vexations a large crack was discoverable in one of them, but as glass was by no means so abundant as China, there was nothing to be substituted. "Susan put the dish in the water to wash it, before the water had got cool enough, and sure enough, it is a great pity and shame," said John, with a sympathising look. for he was really concerned at Fanny's discomfiture," but I will put the fruit it it myself, and set it on so pettiklar, that it will do |