ctrifying brilliancy, and played in sweet dimples about her
mouth; in short, though she was not beautiful, she had an expression of
purity, truth, and gentleness, far more attractive than mere beauty; an
expression that was once happily described by a French lady, who said to
Mrs. Sackville, "when your daughter smiles, it seems to me, that it is
frankness and virtue that smile."

* * * * *

We are well aware that young people do not like to be harangued about
scenery; therefore, though our travellers sailed up the Hudson, we shall
resist every temptation to describe its beautiful features, features as
well known and loved as the familiar face of a friend; neither will we
detain them on the scarcely less beautiful Mohawk, though we are sure
they are not rebels against nature, and that their hearts would dilate
if we had the power to present to their imaginations this lovely stream,
winding through the valley it enriches, as it looked to the eyes of our
young travellers, brimfull from recent rains, reflecting in its living
mirror the verdant banks, the overhanging trees, the richly-wooded
hills, and the clear heaven.

It would be impossible to record the exclamations of the children. "It
is a perfect picture, mother, all the way," said Julia.

"I like every thing but these dronish farmers," said Edward. "See, papa,"
he continued, (not, perhaps, unwilling to display his agricultural
observation) "see, that groupe of men, black and white, all leaning
on their hoes, and staring at us, and they will stand and look just
so, until the next carriage comes along, while their corn is trying
in vain to shoot above the weeds that choke it. They seem to have no
more soul than the clods they stand upon. I wish some of the farmers
on the cold desolate hills of New-England had this fine soil."

"My dear Ned," replied Mr. Sackville, "I do not wonder at your
indignation. I have myself been marvelling, that, as a poet says,
'Nature should waste her wonders on such men;' but there is compensation
every where, or, as your mother would say, there 'are divers gifts.'
The man born to the inheritance of cold and sterile hills, is compelled
to be industrious, frugal, vigorous, and resolute to live, and thus the
advantages of his moral condition are more than an equivalent for the
physical advantages of a fine soil or climate, or both."

"Ah, well, papa," replied Edward, "if I had my choice, I should