ficiently
investigated. A similar impression has prevailed in respect to Roman
history and literature, whether fabulous or otherwise; and the fathers of
New England, at least, have been thought to have exhibited some of the
traits, especially the simplicity and severity of character, which
distinguished those more ancient worthies, whose names and deeds have
been so long famous. But without making other citations, I may remark,
that I am scarcely acquainted with a poem more thoroughly romantic in
conception and sentiment, than "Gallus," the tenth eclogue of Virgil;
and Macaulay, in his "Lays of Ancient Rome," has turned some of its
legends to fine poetical account. Where can be found, for instance, a
prettier, or more suggestive picture, than the passage in his "Virginia,"
which some inspired painter might make immortal upon canvas, as it is in
verse:--

"With her small tablets in her hand, and her satchel on
her arm,
Home she went bounding from the school, nor dreamed
of shame or harm."

Perhaps, the solemnities of the colonial history of New England may have
overshadowed much of whatever poetical interest might be discovered in
its private annals. It depends upon the reader, whether the present
narrative may be thought in some measure to qualify the imputation in
question.

G. L.

OLD NEW ENGLAND TRAITS.

CHAPTER I.

It was the winter of 18--, between fifty and sixty years ago. Certainly
the winters of New England began earlier and were more severe than they
have seemed at a later period. After the fervid heat of summer has become
subdued by the progressive changes of the season, no atmosphere could be
clearer, purer, more exhilarating than the prevailing tone of our October
days, and this kindly influence, as if by way of preparing the human
frame for the gradual approach of winter, generally extends, with
occasional stormy intermissions, through November, and often very far
into the frosty domain of December itself. And such snow-storms as we
once endured! It may be alleged, that distance of time forbids accuracy
of comparison, and that masses of snow, which appeared vast to a child,
would not seem so immense to a full-grown man, and were really no more
huge than some of those with which winter nowadays envelopes the ground.
But facts within my memory do not admit of such an explanation, for I
distinctly reco