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and the blockade thereof; and not to leave him till these facts were clearly ascertained. And so strongly was this duty imposed by some, that it was shrewdly suspected that a few of them, unknown to the rest, had already actually jumped at a conclusion, and acted on his own hook; and this suspicion may not have been groundless. Be this as it may, the deputation departed, and after an agreeable ride, 'dropped in by accident,' just after dinner. Peter always dined early, and never wasted time at the table: he was out on his grounds. The deputation' walked into the parlor, by invitation of the 'help, and looking around, one of the party discovered a small adjoining room, which bore the double name of office and library. He just looked in, from curiosity, and beckoning to his associates, they all entered. Here was confirmation strong as proofs of holy writ.

On the table lay an open map, embracing Flanders and the Baltic; and strewed around on the same table, were various cuttings from newspapers, and newspapers themselves, all containing articles on the subject of the existing contest. And, as if farther to confirm and strengthen the suspicion, and to show that Antwerp was uppermost in all things, there lay on the table a book on fruit-trees, opened at the page • Antwerp. One of the newspapers had evidently just been received, and of the latest date, from New York, marked on the envelope, by the hand that had sent it, ' Latest news regarding Antwerp. As this was not a sealed letter, and newspapers being considered .fair game,' and not embraced in the statutes,' one of them took the liberty of opening it, and found it to contain what its superscription indicated, Latest advices from Antwerp.' "What a cunning fox l' exclaimed one. • He knows, no doubt, every thing concerning the blockade, and has in his possession every information of the latest dates.' •No wonder,' said a second, that he counts his millions, when we see how many sources of information he puts under requisition, when he makes a movement.' • Look here!' added a third ;

he has here even tables, showing the comparative range of the thermometer of all that region of country, and can tell to a day when the Scheldt will probably freeze over.' And so, after interchanging their several convictions, they took a new departure, and traced our hero to his grounds.

After a short walk, they found him busily engaged in superintending some workmen, who were preparing ground and digging holes along the suuny side of a high wall. He was exceedingly happy to see his city friends, and they as warmly reciprocated his kindness and cordial welcome. A few moments only passed, before the whole party were neck and heels in the stirring subject of the day, ' The siege of Antwerp, and the blockade of the Scheldt.' Upon the whole,' says Peter Snug, 'I have about come to the conclusion that that matter is pretty near the end of the bobbin ; and as for England taking a hand in it, I do n't see what she is to gain by capturing Dutch ships, and confiscating or detaining them; for I suppose they are all pretty much insured at Lloyd's, and in that case, England might as well be throwing gilders at Dutch glass-lights, to break them, In fact,' said he,' my last advices give me every assurance that the next arrival will bring me my Fruit Trees, and I'm ready for them, VOL. Xy.

36

Look here,' he continued, here I intend planting the pears, and there the peaches; they are all wall fruit,' the finest fruit in creation, if they succeed ; and this I think is a grand position for them; do n't you think so ?

And with this be drew from his pocket a parcel of letters, and among them the identical dates before alluded to; and one of the deputies,' with green spectacles and side-lights,' recognized the same letters he had before seen in a sly glance at the NewEngland Insurance Office, and which contained, as he supposed, a ‘pro forma' account of sales. They were now frankly read over, and proved to contain a list of sundry wall-fruit trees,' peculiar to Antwerp, and a long and accurate description of the mode and method of planting and trailing them.

* By the year 1838, gentlemen,' continued Peter Snug, 'I'll have great pleasure in giving you a bite of some of the finest fruit within twenty miles of Boston. But I have been confoundedly puzzled of late about this unfortunate interruption, and until within a day or two I was afraid that, what with blockades of the Scheldt by the English, and the investment of the citadel by the French, and old General Chasse's stubbornness, some plaguy difficulty would grow up, so as to prevent my trees coming at all : but I believe it is now drawing to a close, and my son at New-York writes me that he is sure they will come by the ‘Susan and Caroline,' expected to leave Antwerp on the fifteenth of this month. “Confound their folly!' added he,

getting up troubles, just as my trees were packed, and ready for shipment! I do n't know when I have been so much annoyed and puzzled. I would not miss having those trees this spring, for all the coffee ships England has detained ; and as for that old blockhead Chasse, he might know there was no resisting the French; then why on earth has he attempted it? Upon the whole,' concluded Peter Snug, "I do n't know that I ever before felt so sensibly the importance of free trade, and no obstructions and blockades to rivers.'

Having said thus much, he turned and gave his workmen farther directions touching the depth of holes, and to be careful to supply a sufficient quantity of garden soil, and then kindly invited his visitors to return to the house, and take a dish of tea, as the sun was just beginning to get dust in its eyes. But strange to say, although abundance of time permitted, they were all desirous to get back to town before mail closing, and as early as practicable; so they bade 'good afternoon,' and departed; one chaise taking the road by the way of Cambridge, over the mill-dam road,' and the other over Charles river • free bridge.'

What their occupation was that night, or the next day, being Sunday, I won't pretend to say. It is presumed they went to church somewhere, although their usual seats were vacant; and it was reported, that sundry express-riders were seen passing to neighboring cities; and for a few days thereafter a considerable amount of resales were forced, and charters parties' annulled, and excitements incident to unknown causes prevailed for nine days or more, ‘hither and yon.'

About a month afterward, sure enough, a lot of fruit trees,' snugly packed in straw, arrived in the Susan and Caroline' at New York, marked P.S. in a diamond, direct from Antwerp, and were forwarded

to their destination, about which time this story leaked out, and which would have been before told, but for the fear that private credit would have been shaken in quarters where injury might come unnecessarily. The only precaution Peter Snug acted on, and which he took occasion to hint to his sons, when inquiry was made of him, was : ‘Don't trust So-and-so, till after you have had a taste of my Antwerp wall-fruit, by which time we shall all know the result of speculations that may have taken place, based on the siege of Antwerp, and the blockade of the Scheldt !

WIN T E R.

The chill, clear air, abroad,
Tells us that Winter, with his storms, is here;
Look! - now through all the fields, and by the road,

The snows are piled - how drear !

We walk abroad : we hear
No pleasant note come through the bright green woods;
There's not a single sweet sound for the ear,

Torough all the solitudes.

'Tis one unbroken waste,
Far as the eye can scan the glittering snows;
Shrub, tree, fruit, Power - all that so lately graced

The scene - in dead repose!

Within the hollowed hills,
And the deep ravines where the spring floods roll'd,
There, there is beauty -- for the broad sun tills

Those hollows with pure gold.

And there, perchance, some bird,
Wooed by the warm light from its shelter forth,
Is for a moment seen, a moment heard

Yet not in joy, nor mirth,

He rather seems to sing,
As if he inourned the flowers and green leaves gone;
The fresh light, and the glory of ihe Spring :

The eve, and the gray dawn :

A note not unlike those
Which human hearts are sometimes known to breathe,
When over human hopes the cold wind blows

Chilling them into death.

Yet, 't is no sorrowing time;
The sweet Spring, and its breath shall come again ;
The fields shall welcome back their gorgeous prime,

The woods their welcome strain.

And, in the mean time, we
Will win this truth, and lay it on our hearts,
That He who shall call back the Spring, shall be

Our Spring, when earth deparis.
New Haven, January, 1840.

WILLIAM THOMPSON Bacos.

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ON THE LOVE OF MONEY, POETRY, RELIGION, POPULAR OBJECTIONS TO THEATRES, ETC.

"Take on you to reform
Some certain edicts and some strait decrees,
That lie too heavy on the commonwealth :
Cry out on these abuses.'

SHAKSPEARE. History confirms the truth, that where man abides in multitudes, luxury and dissipation, vice and crime, will abound. New-York is said to be a very dangerous place in which to bring up young men. In this respect it is not much unlike other populous cities. It is true that the influence of evil companions, the temptations at every turn, and the snares in every path, often prove too alluring to be resisted by inexperienced youth. Fathers who tremble for the fate of their sons, should look to their own government; to the example which they show; to the lessons they inculcate, and to the amusements they permit, around the domestic hearth. The surest guaranty for the industrious and virtuous life of a son, lies in the conduct of the father. Teach young men the value of female society, and instil into their minds a love of the fine arts : than these, nothing will more surely refine the feelings, exalt the mind, and subdue the heart from the gross impulses of its nature.

We are a young people : there are few large fortunes among us; and the wealth of a family too often vanishes with the generation that amassed it. Happily we have no law of entail; happily, in many respects, while in some it may be a cause of regret; but let that pass, since the genius of our institutions forbids all kinds of aristocracy. We must all make our own fortunes. Consequently, the characteristic of New-York is too deep a devotion to profitable pursuits, to be pleased with the fanciful. The false maxim that · Time is Money,' has turned many minds from the beautiful ideal to the sordid real. The love of mammon overshoots all that is lovely in nature, sound in philosophy, and sacred in religion. If we go to a wedding, the merchant, in the hour of mirth, talks of a new failure, and laments a pecuniary loss; if to a funeral, in the hour of grief, he predicts exultingly a rise in the stocks; if to the church, in the hour of prayer, his anxiety is, not for the salvation of his soul, but for the arrival of the steam-packet from Europe. The thirst for gain overwhelms every faculty of the mind. It would really seem that the sole aim and object of life is money making. Money, in this democratic land, is unjustly considered the only stamp of respectability. The mer. chant, or in other words, the money-maker, assumes that he is the head of society, the leader of fashion. With a strange contradiction of purpose, he will toil all day to make an hundred dollars, and in the evening spend a thousand, to outrun his neighbor in the wasteful race of fashion. Extravagance in living seems to be considered necessary, to keep up appearances. This is rather a specious than a solid argument to prove our respectability.

While the middle-aged and the old are thus engrossed, what lessons can they possibly teach the young, that will tame the wild aspi

rations of their hearts? The allotted business task may occupy the day, but the chase of pleasure will rule the night. If they have not a love of knowledge, if they have no resources for intellectual pleasures, their spare hours will either hang heavily, or they will be wasted in unworthy amusements, that step by step lead to dissipation, and lastly to vice or crime.

Encourage, then, in the young, we say again, a love of literature and the arts. He who has a taste for these, is happy; he has within himself a never-failing source of innocent and profitable amusement. We must all have excitement of some kind ; the young, with warm blood and wild fancies, must have an outlet for the exuberance of feeling and passion; if it be not in mirthful recreations, it will be in vicious indulgencies. Poetry, painting, and music, exalt and purify the heart; and the approving smile of virtuous woman lifts us, in unalloyed content, above the tinsel of fashion, the glare of dissipation, and the romance of crime. It is not necessary, nay, it can never be, that we should all be poets, painters, and musicians; if we are well studied in these beautiful arts, and feel delighted in the pursuit, it is enough. If we can point out their peculiar excellencies, and duly appreciate the power of the artist, it is a merit, second only to that of execution.

How often do we hear it said, 'I have no time for these things.' The answer is untrue. You have plenty of time, but no system in using it : it is misapplied and misspent. You sleep too much, you loiter, and dose, and dissipate, too much ; you do not husband the odd minutes; and these, summed up, make a large part of your day. It is astonishing how much a man might accomplish, if he would employ the spare minutes of a week to some useful and profitable end. Not one, not having tried, would believe it. Will you, idle reader, try? Take up a book, if you please, and try it, only for a day, and you will amuse even yourself

. Beside, the husbandry of time strengthens the mind, induces habits of thinking and reasoning. It teaches to analyze, compare, comprehend. Thereby a young man, especially, is better fitted to pursue his business avocations with honor and descretion.

Unfortunately, we have few readers of poetry; and unpoetical people aver, for man is prone to allege an unsound or insufficient reason for his want of taste, that no good verses are written now-a-days, and they cannot tolerate middling-good poetry. This is not a valid excuse, unless they will add, good poetry never was written. To entitle them to express any opinion on the subject, they should prove that they have read deeply, else their judgment is not worth a rush. In fact, though they may declare that this is a free country, and every man has a right to speak, we tell them they have no right to an opinion at all. He who is not competent to judge, or has not the means of judging, should never decide.

If, as some allege, we have no good modern poetry, which at once I flatly deny, have we not the poets of other ages, whose works delight all who have an eye for the beautiful, an ear for the melodious, a heart for the tender? All who can appreciate external nature, or comprehend the workings of the human heart? Have we not Chaucer, Spenser, Shakspeare, Milton, and, living in his good old age, Wordsworth? In our own country, have we not Bryant and Sprague,

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