we pleased. Thus we travelled from city to city, from country to country, were happy by ourselves and with others, and I never thought that she could leave me again; the less so as, for some time back, she had herself expressed a decidedly strong hope to that effect, which still further enhanced our cheerfulness and our love. But, alas! one morning I found her by my side no longer, and since a residence in one spot was intolerable to me without her, I set my self again en route with my little box, put to the proof the virtue of the two side pockets, and found them always reliable. My journey from that place was prosperous; and if, up to this time, I had not expended much further reflection upon my adventure, expecting in the long run some quite natural explanation of these strange events, there now happened something by which I was thrown into astonishment, into alarm, and even felt a touch of horror. Since, in order to make more rapid progress, I was accustomed to travel day and night, it often happened that I drove on in the dark, and whenever the lanterns accidentally went out, there was total darkness inside the carriage. On one such dark night I fell asleep, and on awaking I saw the shining of a light overhead on the ceiling of the carriage-top. I watched it, and found that it gleamed from the little box, which seemed to have a crack, just as if it had warped and sprung under the hot and dry weather of the commencement of summer. My thoughts immediately reverted to jewels; I suspected that there was a bright carbuncle in the little box, and wished to assure myself of the fact. I placed myself in such a position that I could bring my eye to bear just over the crack. But how great was my astonishment, when I looked down through it into a room brilliant with lights, and furnished with much taste and even profusion? It was just as if I had looked down through an opening in the vaulted ceiling upon a saloon in the royal palace. I could observe, indeed, only one part of the hall, which shut out the rest from my view. A fire seemed to be burning on the hearth, and an arm-chair stood before it. I held my breath, and continued my observations. Meanwhile a lady advanced from the other side of the saloon with a book in her hand, whom I immediately recognised as my wife, although her figure had shrunk to the smallest possible proportions. My fair one sat herself down in the arm-chair by the fire, to read, and arranged the brands on the hearth with the neatest little fire-tongs, in doing which I could plainly perceive that the darling little creature was in good spirits, at all events. But I now found myself compelled to change somewhat my uncomfortable position, and soon after, when I wished to look in once more and convince myself that it was not a dream, the light was extinguished, and I looked in only upon empty darkness. It may easily be conceived how astounded, nay how horrified I was! A thousand thoughts ran through my head on this discovery, and yet I could not strictly be said to think. Meanwhile I fell asleep, and when I awoke, thought that I must have been only dreaming; yet I felt in some measure estranged from my fair one, and although I took only so much the greater care of the little box, yet I did not know whether to desire or to fear her reäppearance in full female size. After some days, towards evening, my fair one actually entered the chamber where I was, in a white dress, and as it was already twilight in the room, she seemed to me taller than was her wont, and I remembered having heard that all belonging to the race of the Nixen and Gnomes become perceptibly taller as night begins to fall. She flew into my arms as usual, but I could not press her very warmly to my anxious breast. "My darling," said she, "I now feel plainly, from your reception, what, alas! I knew already. You have seen me since I was with you last; you are informed of the condition in which I find myself at certain times. Your happiness and mine is hereby interrupted, and indeed is on the point of being altogether annihilated. I must leave you, and I know not whether I shall ever see you again!" Her presence, and the pleasing grace with which she spoke, immediately wiped out almost every remembrance of that sight, which indeed had only been floating before my eyes as a dream. I embraced her with animation, convinced her of my unaltered passion, assured her of my innocence, related to her how accidental the discovery was, and succeeded so well that she herself seemed composed, and tried to calm the agitation of my feelings. "Examine yourself strictly," said she, “and see whether this discovery has not injured your love for me; whether you can forget that I am occasionally by your side in two different natures, and whether the shrinking of my form will not also diminish your affection." I gazed upon her face; she was more lovely than ever, and I thought within myself: “Is it then so great a misfortune to possess a wife who from time to time becomes a dwarf, so that one can carry her about in a little box? Would it not be much worse if she could turn herself into a shegiant and put her husband in the box?" My cheerfulness returned. I would not have given her up for all that this world contains. "Dearest heart!" I replied, "let us remain together, and be as we have been. How could we find ourselves happier? Avail yourself of your convenience whenever you please, and I will promise to carry the little box only the more carefully. How should THE GATE OF TEARS. the prettiest and most delicate sight I ever saw in my life, make a bad impression upon me? How happy would connoisseurs be, if they could only possess such miniatures! And, after all, such a vision as that was only a little specimen of conjurer's tricks. You are putting me to the trial and hoaxing me; but you shall see how I will behave myself." "The affair is more serious than you suppose," said the fair one; "I am very well contented, however, that you make light of it; for thus the happiest consequences may still be in store for us both. I will confide in you, and will do every 165 thing that is possible on my part, only promise me never to mention this discovery reproachfully. For this end I must further implore you most earnestly to be more on your guard than ever against wine and anger." I promised what she required, and I would have gone on promising forever and ever; but she changed the conversation herself, and everything went on in the old track. We had no cause to change the place of our sojourn; the city was large, the society various, and the season of the year was such as to allow of many an excursion by land and water. [To be concluded in next No.] THE GATE OF TEARS. BY MISS LOUISE OLIVIA HUNTER. The Gate of Tears, (the Straits of Babelmandel), so called by the ancients, from their navigation being so fraught with danger, that the friends of those whom necessity obliged to undertake it, put on mourning for them, and wept as for the dead. The following is supposed to be a mother's farewell to her son, on the occasion of his departure upon the hazardous voyage through these straits, Western Sketches.-No. IX. SUNDAY IN THE COUNTRY. BY THE EDITOR. SUNDAY-benign provision for the sanity, hodily. and mental, of man, and the comfort of the kindly beasts-wears a marked aspect in the country, where the labor of the week is labor, and where the difference in dress, occupation, thoughts, between the Sabbath and the working days, is as striking as that between the fairy as princess, and the fairy as cat. In town, we may have been harassed enough; anxious in business, weary with toilsome pleasure, exhausted with envious competition, faint with disappointed ambition; perhaps spent with unselfish efforts to do good, or prostrate through the grief of ill-success. But we know comparatively little of muscular toil, and its peculiar consequences upon the whole man, moral and physical. We go to church habitually; perhaps with devout motives, perhaps through listlessness; because others go; because we do not know what to do at home; we admire the preacher or somebody in the congregation; we have a pew and may as well use it; it is a good habit for children, or builds up our own character for steadiness. We do not put on our best clothes, because it is vulgar, and may lead to a suspicion that we have nowhere else to exhibit them; or from a better motive-a dislike to anything which may attract attention from the main and only legitimate object. In short our way of spending Sunday is like other things that we do, modified by our principles and circumstances. It has no general character, save that of outward decency; it tells nothing of the man, except that he has no desire to be singular. But in the new country it is different. There, Sunday is something in itself, over and above the sacredness of the command to refrain from labor during its hours. It is a day of rest, emphatically; and a day of cleanliness, and dress, and social congregation, and intellectual exercise; and perhaps of reading and reflection, such as the toilsome week-days do not encourage, even if they do not wholly prevent. There has been a general winding up of common affairs on Saturday. The oven has done double duty; and the churn has been used with vigor; the remains of the ironing have been finished-for our Western housewives do not adhere strictly to the good old custom of "washingday," but wash as irregularly as they do almost everything else; so that the bushes may be seen weighed down with white garments every day in the week, and sometimes even on Sunday. Everything that could be done beforehand has been attended to, and the bed-hour hastened a little, to make the most of the coveted repose. Sunday-morning breakfast is a little dilatory, and the hour or two after it is one of bustling preparation. The requisite offices about the house and farm are dispatched as summarily as may be ; and the family-including old grandmother and baby and all-set off for church, after covering up the fire, and putting a fork over the latch-a precaution which makes it necessary for one of the boys to get out of a window. This is merely a hint to those who may call, that the family is absent; not to guard against thieves, since the windows are all unguarded. How much trouble is saved by having little to lose! "Blessed be nothing!" we have often had reason to exclaim. At church, the arrivals are various as to time; some liking to be in season-say an hour before the service begins; others having too much to do at home to allow of the enjoyment of this precious interval of gossip. In winter, some good soul makes the fire, for it is nobody's business in particular; and stout young fellows bring in huge armfuls of wood, which they pile behind the stove. In summer, the men congregate on the shady side of the meeting-house, and talk over the affairs of the week, the approaching election, or the price of wheat. The women converse in whispers, comparing household experiences, or recounting, in moving terms, cases of "fits" or "inward fever" in their own families or those of their neighbors. Those on whom is to devolve the burthen of the music, are intent on their singing-books, humming or softly whistling over new or only half-learned tunes, and comparing one with another. As there is not even a guess as to what hymns will be given out, nothing like general practice can be attempted; but there is so little leisure during the week, that the quiet, and ease, and clean fingers of Sun MEMORY. day seem to suggest music, as naturally as joy does; and a degree of attention and interest is excited which might be turned to excellent account if good instruction were at hand just at the right moment. 167 and a little repose or a stroll in the grove is the preparation for a new session. This is of course a much more drowsy affair. Even the minister himself, who is hardly expected to be human, will be heavy-eyed, sometimes, under such a coutinuous effort; and many of the hearers succumb entirely, giving audible tokens of complete forgetfulness of mortal things. Fortunately the babies generally sleep too, and the unlucky boys who let marbles drop on the floor in the morning, and the When the minister arrives, there is a momentary bustle, from resuming customary places and putting away the music-books. But soon all becomes solemn. The idea of cheerfulness and religion being compatible, never enters the head of one of those good people. A countenance not merely se-sly girls who would whisper in spite of frowns, feel rious but sad, is considered the only proper one for the contemplation of religious ideas. This is certainly a great error, and one which tends to the further separation of religion from the affairs of common life, and the association of piety with death and sorrow, rather than with life and hope, joy and peace. As the service proceeds, some signs of listlessness begin to appear; for even in the morning, people who work hard all the week are apt to feel a little sleepy, from sitting still and attempting to fix the attention. And the babies,-who usually form no inconsiderable portion of the congregation, begin to be very demonstrative, towards the middle of the sermon, when the gingerbread is gone, so that they are passed about from hand to hand, sometimes with no inaudible expression of discontent on their part. Not unfrequently the father, (if he is a good father,) after watching the mother's perplexity for some time, leaves his seat and crosses the house for the baby, whom he carries back in his arms, and tosses with all his might, as long as he can still it by fatherly means. But he generally has to carry it back again, and the poor mother worries through the long hour with it, if indeed she be not finally obliged to decamp entirely with the shrieking cherub. A very short intermission succeeds the morning service, and lunch is eaten on the spot by all members from a distance. The horses are looked to, | the influence of the hour, and grow tame and good under it. Still the afternoon service is rather uphill work, and there is a general, though unconfessed feeling of relief when it is over, even among the best church-goers. And now the Sunday is over, in fact, though not in form; since public worship is the marked portion of sacred time. Great stillness still prevails, however, even where a large portion of the population never go to church. No one is so abject as not to respect the day so far as outward appearance goes. There are those who think Sunday a choice day for gunning, because the woods are undisturbed by the sound of the axe; others who use the day for a general survey of the fields and fences; and others still who will toss hay or get in wheat, in spite of what they deem the prejudices of their neighbors. But there is no noise-no boasting or bravado. When theso independent people say, " It is a free country, and every man can do as he likes," they do not claim the least right to interfere with a neighbor's freedom. That would not be tolerated in any one. There is a vast deal of free-thinking, and even what might well be called by a worso name, in matters of religion, at the West, but it is necessarily quiet; for public sentiment is decidedly against it, though that public sentiment is far from being just what it should be. |