soft landscape, and the smiling cottages which made it human. The
laughing maidens with their bright eyes and cheering accents, gave
vivacity to its milder charms. We have heard from the lips of the
younger traveller, that these attractions had failed to captivate
his fancy. We may believe of this as we please. It is very probable
that he had, in considerable part, spoken nothing but the truth.
He was too much of a mocker;--one of those worldlings who derive
their pleasures from circumstances of higher conventional attraction.
He had no feeling for natural romance. His PENCHANT, was decidedly
for the artificial existence of city life; and the sneers which he
had been heard to express at the humble joys of rustic life, its
tastes, and characteristics, were, in truth, only such as he really
felt. But, even in his case, there was an evident disposition to
know something more of Charlemont. He was really willing to return.
He renewed the same subject of conversation, when it happened to
flag, with obvious eagerness; and, though his language was still
studiedly disparaging, a more deeply penetrating judgment than that
of his uncle, would have seen that the little village, slightly as
he professed to esteem it, was yet an object of thought and interest
in his eyes. Of the sources of this new interest time must inform
us.

"Well, well, Warham," at length exclaimed the uncle, in a tone that
seemed meant to close the discussion of a topic which his nephew now
appeared mischievously bent to thrust upon him, "you will return
to Kentucky in the fall. Take Charlemont in your route. Stop a
week there. It will do you no harm. Possibly you may procure some
clients--may, indeed, include it in your tour of practice--at all
events, you will not be unprofitably employed if you come to see
the village and the people with MY eyes, which, I doubt not, you