"Marm! what do you think Ned did, comin' home from school?" shouted a little Belden, bolting into the door, with eyes and mouth wide open, his mother's injunctions fresh in his memory; "he spoke to Bill Webster, he did, for I see'd him!" and the little aristocrat's eyes were popped two inches farther from his head as he delivered the astounding information.

"Edward! did you speak to that Bill Webster?" inquired his mother, in a tone of offended dignity, as

"Well, ma, I only asked him about my lesion," pleaded the culprit in defence.

EDWARD BELDEN was the son of a New England country merchant. He had ten brothers and sisters, the majority of whom were younger than himself. The head and front of these offences was a merchant; that is, he kept a grocery, next door to the principal tavern, at the corner of the stage road and main street of a certain village in the state of Maine. All persons who buy goods to sell again across a counter, are, in New England, styled "Merchants," not tradesmen or storekeepers, but emphatically and aristocratically-she scraped the dough which she was kneading, from merchants. Merchants are gentlemen; therefore, Mr. her lady-like fingers; "didn't you know his father was Belden was a gentleman In the land of steady habits, a cabinet-maker, and hasn't I and your pa repeatedly a gentleman is one who is not a mechanic or operative. told you not to speak to such boys." Mr. Belden had never soiled his hands with tools, although he sold eggs and fish-hooks, nuts and raisins, tea and sugar by the pound, and retailed at one end of his dark crowded store, rum at three cents per glass. He would sell oats by the peck and "strike" the measure himself, whiten his coat by shoveling flour and meal from the barrel or "bin" into the scales, and grease his gentlemanly fingers with the weighing of butter, cheese, and lard. Yet, Mr. Belden was a entleman! he knew no vulgar occupations! Mrs. elden was, of course, a lady-her husband was a nerchant! She gave parties, and her entertainments vere the envious gossip of the village. “Oh," said Mrs. Belden, confidentially to the law-gentlemen's sons. yer's lady, who had hinted in a very neighborly way, what he says about it." hat she thought Mrs. Belden was becoming somewhat extravagant," oh, my dear Mrs. Edgerton, they don't cost us nothing, at all, hardly-we get 'em all out o' the store!"

Mrs. Belden never visited mechanics' wives, nor lowed her children to associate with mechanics' nildren.

VOL III.

About your lesson!" exclaimed the angry parent, "and what had Bill Webster to do either with you or your lesson ?"

"Because he's the best scholar at the academy, and at the head of the class, and even Judge Perkins' son is glad to get Bill to help him when he gets stuck."

"I guess if his father knew it, he'd stick him," exclaimed the injured parent, "and I shall go right over after dinner and tell Mrs. Judge Perkins directly. It's a shame that those mechanics' children should be allowed to go to the academy, and associate with Here's your father! now we'll see

Mr. Belden, a short, stout man, inclined to corpuleney, with half-whiskers, blueish gray eyes, and rather pleasing physiognomy, entered from the store,. which was situated but a few yards distant from his two story white house, with green blinds, and a front yard with flowers and stone steps, as Mrs. Belden was wont to describe it. His coat was dusted with flour,

and greasy by contact with various unguinous articles | whether their fathers are rich! For rich men cannot, his store contained.

"What's the matter, what's the matter, my dear?" he inquired, in a quick and good-humored tone, seeing the children grouped around their mother, listening in timid silence, while the placidity of her features was considerably disturbed.

of course, be mechanics. The next place, whether they are lawyers, merchants, doctors, or ministers, for, in these four professions' are included all American gentlemen, except senators, state officers, and such like, who are respectable by their office. With no other families should you associate, for you should at all times endeavor to keep up the dignity of your family. Now, my son, you may sit down to your dinner."

"Have the boys been at any of their capers?" Capers!" repeated his offended lady; "all I can do and say I can't get these children to mind me. I wish you would take them in hand, Mr. Belden, for Here the merchant concluded, with an emphatic they have tried my patience till I can't stand it no" ahem," and was about to turn his chair to take his longer." And she looked as if she were the most seat at the table, when one of the younger boys hesi aggrieved woman in the world. tatingly inquired "if a watch maker wath respecta ble?"

"Why, why, what have they done?" inquired the perplexed husband, still holding the handle of the door by which he had entered.

"Done! Here's Edward been speaking to that Bill Webster, when I have told him over and over again, not to have any thing to say to any such boys, and expressly told him and all the children, to speak to no boys nor girls, whose fathers a'n't merchants, like their'n, or lawyers, or doctors, or ministers, and they know it well, too."

"Well, well, wife, I'll settle it," replied Mr. Belden, soothingly and good humoredly, for he had just made a good bargain with a country customer. "Edward, come here to me."

The culprit came forward and placed himself by his father, who had taken a chair near the fire, conscious that reproof or advice comes clothed with more dignity from one seated than standing.

"Edward, you are now in your fifteenth year," said the parent gravely. "In two or three years more you will enter college, and you should now learn to choose your associates."

46

Come to your dinner, children, and you, you little lisping chit, shall wait, for your forwardness," exclaimed the now justly provoked mother, (for, Mr. Belden, reader, was unfortunately the son of a watchmaker!) Edward laughed in his sleeve; Mr. Belden carved the joint in silence, and in silence Mrs. Belden helped round the vegetables. During the recess of that very afternoon, the aristocratic scion, Edward Belden, played at catch and toss with that young democrat, Bill Webster. This brief family scene is not introduced as affecting materially the general interest of our tale, but to disclose a state of manners and mode of thinking, by no means uncommon in New England, presenting a strange anomaly in the society of American materiel that hereafter may afford materials for a pair of volumes. Yet, it is to such principles as those we have just heard dictated by a parent to his child that the adverse fortunes of that child and a thousand others of New England's children are to be referred. The income Mr. Belden derived from his store, was from eight hundred to two In the first place, my son, you must remember that thousand dollars per annum. His domestic expenses, your parents are respectable—that is, move in the first which could not possibly be very great, as every thing circles, and are not mechanics. Now, in America, where from the children's shoes to their spelling books, from there is no nobility or titles to say what is and what is the "kitchen girl's" calico and handkerchief to Mrs. not "respectable," why we must have certain rules by Belden's silks and laces, besides all the provisions, which we can tell who are so and who are not so. I came out of the store." How they came into the store Now the only way you, who are a boy, can tell what never entered into the brain of Mrs. Belden. She was boys are "respectable" and what are not, is by knowing satisfied her housekeeping could cost nothing; "never what profession their parents are of. Now, a mecha-mind, it came out of the store," was the coup de grace, 100 nic of no kind is respectable; they all belong to the by which she silenced every qualm of conscience or 106 'lower class.'"' friendly hint, from envious neighbors, upon her own408 extravagance in household matters. For Mrs. Belden sought to keep up appearances, and there were other

'Children, listen to your father," commanded Mrs. Belden, seeing the turn her husband's remarks were likely to take : 'he speaks to you as well as to

Edward."

Here his youngest daughter interrupted. "Isn't miliners and manty-makers respectable,' pa?" "No, my child, they are female mechanics, and are merchants' ladies in neighboring towns she must rival therefore, not respectable."

“Well, then, I spoke to Miss (Mrs., generally, in New England is pronounced Miss.) Miller's little girl, Jane, and walked most home from school with her to-day. Oh, I'm so sorry!" The penitent criminal, after receiving a severe reproof from her mother, retreated behind a chair, and the father continued.

"The question is, my son, when you wish to select your companions at school, or at college, first to learn

AGE.

125

What with Mrs. Belden's expensive habits and M 15
Belden's moderate profits, he seldom laid by more 24
than two or three hundred dollars a year. Yet, on 95
his small income, without the prospect of having a477
dollar to give them when they become of age, his
children must be educated-gentlemen and ladies !— `
as if heirs to principalities. Let us see what gentle-384
men and ladies he made of them. It will serve briefly
to develop a system of gentility and genteel educa

(187

tion, lamentably prevalent throughout the villages and a man of business, integrity and industry, he was not small towns of New England.

Amelia, the eldest daughter, grew up tall and well formed, pale and romantic. She had attended the village Female Academy, from her youth upward. At eighteen she left school, tolerably well educated. That is, she was versed in geography, and could tell you the capitals of every European state more readily than those of the various states of her own country; and knew, (so deeply learned was she,) more about the lives of the kings of England and of Egypt, than of the presidents of the United States. She could paint fruit pieces and morning pieces, which still hung over her mantel in testimony of her skill; write a neat hand, cypher tolerably, and play a little on the piano. Yet, with all these accomplishments, she found herself at the age of twenty-seven, unmarried, and, at last, to escape her mother's tongue, which grew sharper as she grew older, and wagged particularly against "old maids," and to find the wherewithal to purchase dresses, for she had inherited her mother's love of finery, she accepted an offer to keep a school, (this not being-mechanical, except in cases of flagellation, is, therefore, "respectable," and conferring no disgrace,) in a neighboring village, in which delightful task, peradventure, she is still engaged.

The second child, who was a son, having a natural mathematical turn, and much mechanical ingenuity, at the age of seventeen, when his father proposed taking him into "the store," plead hard to be allowed to become a mechanist, or go to sea-any thing but to be tied to the counter of a country grocery. His parents were shocked at his vulgar tastes. The young man, after staying behind the counter three months, during which time he was placed at the station at the farther end, where rum was retailed, because his careful parent could trust no one else there, and, after hearing more oaths and seeing more intemperance than would have corrupted a Samuel, he yielded, dis gusted with his employment, to the offers of an intel ligent sea-captain, and, amid the tears, groans, and prophecies of his mother, (for the caste of sea captains is not exactly comme il faut,) went to sea with him He is now, though young, the first officer of a packet ship from New York, and a gentleman, in spite of his father.

The third son, a fine, spirited boy, who wished to become a jeweller rather than to succeed his seastruck brother in the store, eventually followed his brother's example, by eloping, and after various adventures, during which he lost both health and repu tation, became one of the lowest supernumeraries on the New York stage. The cholera of 1832 put an end to his misery, his dissipation, and pecuniary wretchedness, and the Potter's Field has become his last resting place. The fourth was apprentice to a respectable wholesale dry-goods merchant, in Boston When he became of age, and desired to enter into business on his own responsibility, his employer, to whom he looked for assistance," failed," and he was at once thrown upon the world with but a few hundred dollars in his possession. He again became a theclerk to another house, on a scanty salary, for although

a man of capital. He knows no trade-he is fit for nothing but a merchant's clerk. He is still clerking, although nearly thirty years of age, while he finds about him men of wealth and independence, although mechanics, like their father's before them, whom, when at school, he was taught to despise. With what bitter curses upon the foolish system to which he was a victim, did he contrast their situation, happy in the bosom of their families, with his own, a lonely salaried bachelor. "How much it costs to be a gentleman!" thought he.

The fifth, and next youngest child, who was a daughter, married a young merchant of her native village, who failed the following year, died intemperate the next ensuing, leaving his wife and two children to the tender mercies of her parents or the world.

The sixth child, a less intelligent and active boy than his brothers, his father succeeded in retaining in the store; this being the portal through which all of them made their debut into active life. He soon acquired the habits and tastes of the loungers in the store; to their language and beastly intoxication he soon became familiarized; and imperceptibly by com. mencing with cordials and sherbets, he acquired a taste for ardent spirits; and, at the age of twenty-five, after having been for three years a common drunkard, he died in his father's house of mania-a-potu.

This, reader, is no fiction. Name and localities are only requisite to identify these facts in the memories of many, with the history of a family now almost extinct. Yet, even without this key, too ready an application of it may be made to numerous families, within the observation of every New England reader.

Besides Edward, there were two brothers and a sister, younger than himself, who, fortunately, did not survive long enough to become either lady or gentleman!

Three years after the conversation recorded above, Edward entered the sophomore class at Cambridge. His manners were polished, his address winning, his talents of a high order. After six weeks he was the most popular of his class, both with the faculty and his class-mates; while many young gentlemen of the upper class sought his acquaintance. His associates were among the wealthiest in college; his good nature, gentlemanly air, irresistible wit, and high standing in his class, rendered his society universally sought after.

The first year, his bills were paid by his father, and he was allowed fifty dollars during the year for spend. ing money. This he laid out in books; for he neither gambled nor indulged in the expensive habits, which could be afforded by others. When in the height of his popularity and scholastic fame, a letter came, in reply to one he had written to his father for a remittance, to purchase a few necessary books, stating that "business was dull, his profits small, and that it was more expensive at college than he supposed it would be." And after two pages of advice in relation to the necessity of preserving his standing as a gentleman, he wound up with the suggestion "that as he could not afford to pay such large bills any longer, he had

ng school during the vacations." A bank note for wenty dollars was inclosed, with the intimation that " he must expect but little more assistance from him, as he had his two brothers and sisters to educate; that he was getting old, and times were hard."

best work the rest of his way through college by keep | pendent farmer or mechanic (which all may become who will,) is intrinsically a better gentleman and a far more useful member of society, than an impove rished lawyer or doctor, or a minister who has become such that he may be one in the ranks of, (to use an English term, for which, in America, we neither have nor should have a corresponding word,) the "gentry." The president concluded by giving him much judicious advice for his future conduct in life, and the young man took his leave and went forth into the world, alone, friendless, and almost moneyless.

nouncement.

We briefly pass over his short and unhappy career. He went to New York, where he remained several weeks, seeking some genteel employment, (for of any mechanical trade or art, he was totally ignorant.) At length a situation offered, after he had spent his last dollar in paying for an advertisement applying for a clerkship or tutorship.

It would be difficult to picture the mortification of a sensitive, high-minded young man, at such an an The term bills would, in a few days, be presented. Minor accompts, usually liquidated at the same time, were also unpaid. But these difficulties, though instantly occurring to his mind, did not! so much affect him as the sudden change this conduct of his father must produce in his situation. Educated like a gentleman, his most intimate associates had been with those young aristocrats of the college, who had wealth to support their pretensions. With the beneficiaries," those noble minded young men, who seek science through her most thorny paths, those of The subsequent events in the life of Edward Belpoverty and contumely, he had never associated-den, (save the mystery that still hangs over the place they were a species of literary operatives, whom he of his exile,) are familiar to all who have not forgotten had not yet decided whether to class with mechanics the tragedy which a short time ago agitated our great or gentlemen. He groaned bitterly as he felt that he commercial metropolis, and filled the minds of all men was degraded to their caste. It was late at night with horror. when he received the letter, and after pacing the room a long time in mental agitation, he seized his hat and hastened to the president's room. The usual lamp shone in the window. He tapped lightly at the door and entered. The venerable doctor Kriken, who was engaged over his desk, raised his head, and politely invited him to be seated.

Edward laid his father's letter upon the desk, ing hastily, "A letter from my father, sir."

This brief outline of what could easily be extended to volumes, is written to expose the rottenness of a mischievous custom, founded in vanity and perpetuated by injustice to its juvenile victims, which reigns all over New England. Alas, that men should think that because they give their sons an education, they must, of necessity, make professional men of them, or say-suppose, if they wish to make them gentlemen without the trouble and expense of education, that they

The president read it, and shook his head, as if dis- must make merchants of them! pleased at its contents.

"I sympathize with you, Belden. This is not the first case of the kind I have met with since my connection with this institution. This infatuation among the class to which your father belongs, of making gentlemen of their sons, when they cannot allow them the means to sustain the rank of such, has been the ruin of many promising young men. It is a mistaken notion, and one fruitful with the most baneful consequences, that a youth, to be made a gentleman of, must become a member of one of the learned profes❘ sions; and, that to be a member of one of these, he must first pass through college. It is a mischievous error, and must be eradicated. It is daily doing incalculable injury to society. Experience must soon teach such persons the unsoundness of the position they have assumed, and convince them that an inde

Let every parent, whether farmer or country merchant, country doctor, or country lawyer, or country parson, if he have five sons, educate them all well, if he will, but make four of them tillers of the soil or masters of a trade. He will then be certain of having four independent sons about him. If he have seven daughters, let him make seven good milliners and mantua makers of them, and they will then be independent of the ordinary vicissitudes of life. Let him do this, that is, provided he has no fortunes to leave them. But even if he have, still it would be better for them that he should do this, than if he should leave it undone. It is the opposite plan to this, the reaching after gentility or respectability, as it is termed, for their children, that throngs our metropolitan streets with courtezans, and inundates all cities, from New York to New Orleans, with penny less adventurers.

He was an aged man, and may hap had been sojourning here some eighty years, and his white locks and hoary beard gave him a venerable appearance.

He sat by the way side, and in his hand he held an ancient harp, and ever and anon he swept his fingers across its strings, and to their wild melody he sang fragments of a wilder song. With his eyes bent upon vacancy, he seemed holding converse with beings of air.

At times his look was full of beseeching earnestness, and fire, and hope;- then it was melancholy and desponding, and expressive of much deep feeling;-anon as the song changed a calm, patient, holy resignation seemed to pervade every feaHe woula fancy himself young, and under the influence of such thoughts, he would call for those he loved when a youth and because they answered not, he would beg to be old again. We dropped a few pieces of silver into his lap and left him, but I can never forget the impression made on my heart by the song of the maniac minstrel.-Letters from the East.

e