Behold, fond man! See here thy pictured life; pass some few years, Thy flow'ring Spring,-thy Summer's ardent strength,- And pale concluding Winter comes at last, THOMPSON'S SEASONS. THERE is a certain class of individuals, who journey on from day to day and from year to year, utterly regardless of those changes and fluctuations with which the life of every man is chequered; and who seem to welcome with the same bright looks of joy, the frowns of adversity or the smiles of fortune. Careless by nature, and indifferent to results, the success or failure of friends cause but a slight and momentary variation in their ever-buoyant spirits; the pleasure raised by the one being too weak to last, and the sorrow caused by the other so superficial, as to be effaced by a single tear. Indeed, there exists not a greater variety in the composition of the globe on which we tread than there does in the characters of the beings for whom it was created; and to discover two minds in perfect unison, would be a task only to be equalled in difficulty by endeavouring to search out two faces of the same mould and expression. It is not our intention, however, to give a dissertation on physiology, or to enter into an analysis of the various temperaments A 2 6 and characters of mankind, but, as being in some way connected with the following history, we must beg a few moments' indul. gence of our reader, while we briefly notice a description of people whose virtues are too often doomed to bloom unseen;' and who, perhaps, claim pity rather than derision. They are a class whose members frequently possess so sensitive a mind, that it draws and saps the owner's strength, until in age it leaves them poor, worn, emaciated creatures. Quiet, bashful, and reserved, and regarding with contempt those shallow blandishments which so commonly prove a passport for the hypocrite, they pass in the eyes of those around as harmless unoffending beings, whose only desire is, to go on peaceably to the end of their journey and die. How different is in reality the case. Possessed of a delicacy of feeling wholly unknown to their more sanguine brethren, and sensible of their true standard in society, they are unable to assume that confidence and impudent assurance, which so frequently crowns the efforts of less susceptible rivals. Their mind sees too plainly the obstacles to be overcome, and the difficulties that must be conquered ere they can attain the object of their desire, and those talents which would come off victorious, are not unfrequently paralyzed by the magnified perplexities their imagination raises to be encountered; and they at once shrink from a contest, which at the first they conceive to be useless. Weaned, therefore, from the world by its harsh rebuffs, and the insignificant figure they are compelled to make in it, their chief delight, and perhaps only true source of pleasure, consists in study and contemplation. The first cause,the purpose, and the wonders of creation, rank highest among their favourite subjects for meditation; while their fertile brain is ever picturing, in the most vivid colours of fancy, the miseries and distresses of their fellow creatures; but unable though willing to relieve them, they are constrained to banish the scene, and day after day toil on, the jaded votaries of melancholy. In like manner that hunger tames the fiercest prowler of the forest, the repeated strokes of misfortune had so beaten down and subdued the buoyant disposition of Balford Randall, as almost to admit of his being ranked as one of this class; for although the sunshine of happiness would often light up his spirits into gaiety, it was but transitory, and served only to render more apparent the gloom which succeeded when the clouds of misfortune again had gathered round his thoughts. We shall so far deviate from the general rule of adventure writers, as to defraud our readers of everything like an account of his genealogy, birth, and education, interesting as doubtless the narration of them would prove, to lineage-grubbers, parishclerks, and schoolmasters. We shall leap over too, all the farfamed actions of his ancestry, and pay as little respect to the doughty deeds their valiant arms performed some two or three hundred years ago. Fame's trumpet we shall leave unblown, for many potent reasons, which the reader may ascribe to our inability and ignorance of music, or, to our unwillingness, which ever he deems just. We shall not inform them either, how, that by one fell stroke of the sword, they could cleave a steel-cased warrior in twain and think nothing of it; neither, how, by their acumen and prowess, they overthrew many a black conspiracy, and to save their sovereign's sconce from the descending falchion, politely put their own heads in the way. Of none of these chivalrous deeds do we intend to treat. The corslet, helm, and tilting-spear, we shall alike avoid, and leave the spangled lists, the glittering panoplies, the shrill clarion, and the cutting and maiming with intent to kill, to repose on in peace. We purpose leaving the reader in ignorance, also, of the armorial bearings of the Randalls, though perhaps an empty purse and coffin on sable, without an atom of, or, gules, or argent, would not be inappropriate blazonry: nor shall we attempt to investigate the reason why Balford, like ourself, was created a poor man instead of a duke or a marquis, with some eighty or ninety thousand a year for pocket-money. Should anybody be curious upon the subject, we doubt not our being able to furnish satisfactory information on all and each of these points; butfor the present we shall draw on our seven league boots and step over them without further notice, and proceed to recount a few of the commonplace events of our own degenerate times, when heroes, instead of being found in impenetrable forests, quaffing the blood of roebucks to the health of Dulcineas, and pinning through the body all those who dare dispute their lady's charms, are absolutely discovered behind desks, with pens in their hands, and wallowing in vile ledgers, letters, and day-books, without a shade of chivalry or errantry in their whole composition. As the unbiassed chronicler of truth, then, under whose sacred banner every author should shed the last drop of ink that flows in the heart of his inkstand, and work his quill to the very feather, we inform the reader that at the age of twenty, Balford beheld with a firmness and resignation that would have honored riper years, all the fondly cherished hopes and airy-formed castles of his boyhood, dashed to atoms by the unexpected death of his father; and that, while his youthful bosom yet heaved, and the tear still glistened in his eye, fate showered new sorrows on him, in the loss of an affectionate brother. Yet, despite his lurid prospects, he strove to discharge with honour and probity his duty in the house of business, where a regardful uncle had placed him; while his mother and sister, though reduced from their former estate, were enabled with the wreck of his father's property, to maintain a quiet, and even a cheerful home. It was at the close of the autumn of eighteen hundred and thirty-eight, that after the fatigues of the day, Balford paused |