Painted by W. F. Witherington. Engraved by J. B. Neagle.
THE RUSTIC WREATH.
"True. Then to begin. It was the middle of September when I landed in England; but unless you had experienced the monotony of a sea voyage, you could form little conception of the pleasure with which I exchanged the continuous prospect of the 'dark blue wave' of the Atlantic, for the bright and gay scenes which England presented. You know I had left our own dear land at a time when, of all others, it appears to the least advantage; for the fervid heats of a July sun had scorched every blade of grass, and a long and distressing drought had given an almost autumnal tint to the foliage of the trees. The few inhabitants, too, that remained in the city, looked pale and languid, and crept along the streets as if deprived of all the energy that was requisite for the performance of the business of life, and wishing for nothing so much as a comfortable place, to rest on the brow of some mountain, and a portion of Rip Van Winkle's power of forgetfulness, that they might sleep away the sultry hours, till the moderated sun, the cool and bracing nights, and the clear pure air of the autumnal months, should again give life a zest. But when I arrived in England, all was life, activity and bustle in the towns; the people were fresh, ruddy, and animated; while the humidity of the atmosphere had preserved the bright tints of vernal beauty over the country. Few things in the world, perhaps, present a more strikingly beautiful picture to the eye than an English landscape. The graceful undulations of the country—the deep rich verdure that overspreads the ground—the high cultivation that every where meets the eye, and speaks of industry and wealth—the gothic edifices, telling tales of former times—the country seats, which display at once the elegance and taste of their inhabitants; and above all, the neat cottages, which impart a truth most delightful to the benevolent heart, that comfort, and a considerable portion of refinement, are enjoyed by even the lowest ranks, are all points of beauty which are particularly striking to an American traveller; for they unfold a train of new ideas to his mind, and he at once realizes all the fairy pictures, the outlines alone, of which, he had before been able to trace; and for the first time in his life, he becomes fully sensible of the magic of Shakespeare, the richness of Thomson, and the graphic paintings of Cunningham. Nor did I find the English people less interesting than the landscape. My letters of introduction placed me, at once, in the most delightful society, where, if it had not been for the little girls whom I had left behind me," added the father, as he pressed his daughters closer to him, "I might have been in danger of forgetting that I was not at home."
"But I always understood, papa," interrupted Cecilia, "that the English were exceedingly cold and reserved in their manners."
"They have that character amongst their neighbours, the French, who, you know, carry their ideas of politeness to perhaps rather an extravagant height; but such they did not appear to me; nor have I ever met with an American traveller, that had had an opportunity of seeing English domestic manners, who did not bear willing testimony to their frankness, refinement, and hospitality; indeed, there is a cordiality in their manner of receiving a stranger, that is an irresistible evidence of their sincerity.
"A gentleman, in whose house I became early familiar, told me one day that he was going to take his wife and children the following morning to have a day's ramble in the country, and kindly invited me to occupy a seat in one of the carriages; and you may be sure I was much pleased with the opportunity of peeping at the beauties of nature, amongst a happy group of children, some of whom, from a similarity of age, as well as other circumstances, often reminded me of yourselves.
"For the first half hour after we had set out on our little journey, the presence of the 'American gentleman' rather checked that buoyancy of spirit, which the suppressed smile, the half whisper, and the side glance showed was waiting only for a little better acquaintance, to burst out with the most frolic gayety; nor was it long before a few well-timed inquiries, and a happily applied anecdote or two relative to the scenes of this country, removed the embargo under which their little tongues had lain, and in a short time, their mother and I became the listeners, instead of the talkers, of the company."
"This is the birth-day of these two," said the mother, who seemed, at length, to feel it necessary to make some apology for the volubility of the party, and pointing, as she spoke, to two lovely little girls, who were twins, "and as this treat is given on the occasion, their father and myself are disposed to make it as complete as possible, by allowing the whole party unrestrained indulgence in the pleasures of talking; an enjoyment, which, I suppose, as you have children of your own, you can form some idea of."