'In more successful days, I have wondered at the joy with which I hailed this first professional engagement. I fancied the renown and pecuniary ease to which it might lead; I thought of providing for the widow and Anna; re-crossing my room for the hundredth time, and almost clapping my hands for joy.

My client, it appeared, was executor of an estate, to which the children of his sister, a widow, laid certain claims, by right of their father. The suit concerned some valuable landed property, which it was contended, by reason of previous sales, as well as an obscurity in the testamentary dispositions, formed a part of their inheritance. The executor had placed innumerable instruments before me, but I confess I thought his grounds unsubstantial; the objections, to use a term of our trade, were wire-drawn. However, the more compliment to my ingenuity, thought I, bending hour after hour over torn letters, and formal documents, and sketching every favorable view of the case.

'Evening was just closing in, when I received a short letter from my mother. She was sorry another week had elapsed without my visiting the homestead, and hoped I should never find a heartier welcome elsewhere. Her health was worse than it had been, although Anna Carlton was a kind nurse, etc., etc.

'I never expected to greet coldly a letter from my mother; but there was something so mild in all this, it brought back the last evening at home, which all at once contrasted strangely with the business I had undertaken. Oh!' I exclaimed involuntarily, I have broken that foolish promise, that silly resolution, about keeping truth on my side!'

Taking up the papers again, I tried to laugh the matter off; but the cob-web I had been weaving, I no longer dared tread upon. And yet,' thought I, 'I have been slaving and starving six months; shall I lose this opportunity, to humor an over-anxious mother, and a young creature who really is - a good deal of a prude!' I reflected on my neighbor's success, and how my friends, who had heard the offer, would wonder at my refusal, and then put the letter hastily away; resolved, however, to see home the next day.

THE widow, leaning on the arm of Anna Carlton, was just coming out of afternoon service, as I passed by the village church. She was quite pale, but the mother's smile still sat upon her features. As I gave her my arm, I said I had been considerably employed, and even could now remain but a day with her; engagements required my return. 'Do not forget,' said Anna Carlton, 'what we owe to our first benefactors.'

'I could have borne that speech once, but now there was something of freedom in it, which rather displeased me. The sensitive creature half suspected it, and the color mounted to her cheek in an instant. It is sad enough, when the intercourse of familiar friends decays at the core, but continues fair upon the surface! Strip friendship of its frankness, and a skeleton will haunt you. I was sorry to have hurt Anna's feelings, and yet somehow she did not appear so

fine a girl as before I had left home; she was a little too primitive, I fancied, for convenience.

• When the time came, I was reluctant to return; an hundred petty kindnesses, which can only come from a son's hands, had been left undone. The widow parted from me, I imagined, rather anxiously, and reproachfully. Anna said if it was best to go, not a word was to be said. She spoke with more reserve than in old times.

'I should remark, that about this time the struggles between the political parties of Conservatives and Reformists were very strong. Society was beginning to be marked with the distinction. Some of the younger men sided with their fathers; others attached themselves to one faction or another, as fancy or interest dictated. My early days had glided away in retirement, and when I commenced a town life, my choice was to be made. I looked about me, and happening to gain the friendship of several distinguished Conservatives, was not long in declaring myself a warm advocate of their party doctrines. Several anonymous papers which I had compiled, attracted attention, and a few political acquaintances spoke of me as about to be a useful man. Art, too, was used, where I did not suspect it.

One of the most influential of the Conservative party was the judge, before whom our all-important cause was to be argued; a man whom many respected, but few loved or understood. Haughty and yet condescending; wary and winning; a sage in his profession; a man of consummate art in private intercourse, and a skilful politician, I was anxious to increase his favorable opinion of me. Ambition, like the poor artizan striving to weave the dewy cob-webs, grasps every hope, be it never so unsubstantial.

'When the day of the trial came,varied and violent emotions pressed upon me. I had spent the previous night in reviewing the documents in my possession - preparing my argument, and arranging our testimony. And yet, something continually cast a shadow in my way. My thoughts strayed homeward; I kept thinking of my late visit, and in the middle of an argument, the smile, or form, or some expression of my mother, or Anna Carlton, would intrude itself upon me. When morning came, and my client called to hope all was right, I was sadly out of spirits.

The court-room was nearly full; some curiosity, others custom, and others interest, had brought thither. Judge Lynde complimented me elegantly and coldly; spoke of our political prospects, and said his hopes were much raised touching my coming effort. I had known the magistrate so little, that such condescension surprised and embarrassed me. There was one individual among the witnesses for the prosecution, whom I looked upon with considerable interest. She sat in plain black apparel, with her countenance quite concealed; I could not refrain conjuring up troublesome fancies concerning her. Opposite me was my old college rival, Robert Fleming, who congratulated me on so favorable an opportunity of distinction. watched his but it was very calm, and I bowed a return of his good wishes. Many others whom I knew, were present, and the occasion was more embarrassing even than I had anticipated.

eye

After the opening counsel had finished, witnesses were sum

moned, and my duties commenced. I made an effort at severity in cross-examination, and really elicited some contradictions. By and by they called the woman in mourning. She took the stand with a humble dignity. Her form was rather bent, and as she drew aside her veil, it disclosed a mild blue eye, while her smile, occasionally awakened, was so calm, that a sunbeam seemed resting on her countenance. She was the mother on whose behalf the action was brought, and she gave her testimony with a modesty and a subdued firmness, which I cannot forget. There was so much of dependency in her situation; she was alone in the world, and not very long for it either; and when they turned to me to re-scrutinize what she had deposed, I was glad to shake my head, and let it pass. My client frowned I remarked at my so doing, and Fleming touched his arm and smiled. I felt at that moment that nothing could recompense me for failure.

'Witnesses were examined; the various counsel finished their arguments; and my turn came to conclude the defence. I had arranged a long line of corroborating circumstances; every point had been patiently considered; and yet foreign thoughts, and a sensation of inadequacy, continually annoyed me. I recollected the saying, 'My son, be for my sake a good man,' and what I had to say, appeared cold and artificial. Still, the magistrate's attention, and the half-respectful and half-sneering gaze of Robert Fleming, urged me along.

Like most young advocates, I was unusually explicit; touching on the various points minuted on my ample brief, drawing the intended inferences, and commenting on the opposing testimony. But my words wanted the life which, though all-important, no touch of my wand could awaken. Once to suspect we are doing ill, is a positive bar to doing otherwise. I knew I had not said what I ought, or said it as I ought, and I sat down provoked and disheartened.

'I recollect my client's expression of disappointment. Although he had no right to anticipate a very splendid argument, some parts of the defence led him to wonder at the want of regularity and power which marked it as a whole. Neither he nor Fleming made any remark, while the case was submitted to the jury, who, without much delay, returned a verdict for the plaintiff. Thus ended my first professional effort.

'THEY have given it to the widow's children!' said I, as I sat alone in my office, the evening after the unfortunate trial. The events of the day were passing through my mind quickly and painfully. I could not but fancy that my failure was somehow connected with the resolution I had formed, on undertaking my profession. I had looked to that day as the great stepping-stone, perhaps to political eminence, and it had given way beneath my feet.

Presently Robert Fleming entered. He was not a usual visitor, and I thought his calling at that time peculiarly unfair. We conversed carelessly awhile about ordinary topics. A little anxious lest I might appear down-hearted, I alluded, in an apparently accidental manner, to the business which had occupied the court.

'He turned his deep black eye toward me, and for a time made no

reply. At length he said, 'You were remarkably unfortunate.' 'Oh !' I replied, with forced unconcern, 'I hardly hoped any thing else; it was up-hill work.'

There was silence for a moment. 'I fancied it would interest you, 'he added, rising to go away, 'and to tell the truth, I recommended you to the executor. We had heard of a certain prudish promise, and longed to see how firmly it would be kept. But I perceive you have got the better of it.'

'Oh, entirely!' said I, parting from him with a smile, while the tears came to my eyes, and my heart ached with vexation, that, of all other men, he had sent the temptation, watched my weakness, and seen it work my failure.

'While I was brooding over the events of that unlucky day, and not long after my visitor's departure, a servant put into my hands a note from Judge Lynde. The magistrate was peculiarly condescending, and begged I would meet a few friends at his house on the ensuing evening, in a strain of happy compliment, of which, more than other man, he was master. The clouds seemed breaking

away.

'I said that Lynde was a wary and a contriving man; but his art was perfect, for it was invisible. He was a little past fifty, his hair gray, and spare upon his forehead, and his smile one of the most open in the world. Yet at times his brow would contract, and a shade cross his countenance; but it passed away in a moment, and an expression was resumed, as bright as the moon-beam as beautiful, and as cold. He was enough a man of the world to dazzle one whose ambition was to win the world's applause.

'During the evening, he took several opportunities of alluding to the difficulties of the late trial; explained with considerable candor his political views, and urged others, as particularly necessary for the generation coming upon the stage.

'The mistress of the house, and others of the family, possessed the same elegant cordiality. The second daughter, Fanny Lynde, was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. She was very tall, finely modelled, and perfectly graceful. A slight degree of hauteur mingled itself in her still expression, but was lost in the animation of her speech. The mental activity of her father, without his darker musings, enlivened her conversation, and a natural wit, which romps, perhaps, freest, when unencumbered by a heart, gave a charm and freshness to her society. She sought, and secured, and was satisfied with the admiration of gay life. I thought I had never heard any one converse more gracefully.

The image of the magistrate's beautiful daughter haunted me long after I had left the brilliant scene which she adorned. I was to have written to the widow that evening, but the words came slowly, and I found the ink dry in my pen, and myself contrasting the fascinating girl by whose side I had so pleasantly galloped through the evening, with my old friend Anna Carlton. Anna would have quivered like an aspen-leaf in the merry throng, which seemed but to add strength and grace to the young thing I had been conversing with. Then Anna's simplicity, frankness, and self-devotion came to recollection, and (I think of it to this day with pleasure,) for once the

scales balanced each other tion held the beam.

but for the last time. Ever after, ambi

'MONTHS elapsed; friendships were multiplied; business increased in proportion; my visits at the politician's were frequent, and by degrees, reports buzzed about right merrily. Every one has seen some person or other take a fancy, as the phrase goes, to another less eminent or powerful than himself. To such a fancy was Lynde's condescension to me attributable. He complained of my absence from his house, and frequently, before joining the elegant group in the drawing-room, would explain to me in his study the propriety of urging myself forward in the conservative ranks, and, mixing with his counsel more or less flattery, anticipate the certain triumph of our party principles.

'I have seen in my day men of talents panting for distinction, and men of eminence proud of their achievements; but never one so tinged with the changing hues of ambition, now glittering with success, now bright with hope, and now dark with despair. Every thing was secondary; literary application was necessary to eminence; affability was politic, and hospitality a stepping-stone; the present nothing; the future always anticipated, never attained; his mind working incessantly beneath the oil of social intercourse thrown upon the surface; his energies, and means, and hopes, tending toward one point, and that political advancement. Years ago, I could not see all this as clearly as I now see it.

Touching the hours spent in the magistrate's family, I have nothing now to say. A light, dazzling but not very pure, plays about them in memory; and associations burning to myself, but cold to any other, are enkindled when the embers of recollection are disturbed. They are added to the record of pleasures alloyed by selfreproach, and giddy enjoyments overcoming the resolutions of better moments. Broken projects, unfinished aspirations, and shattered hopes, are the ruins of those days.

In time, I began to be rallied on my good fortune in gaining Lyude's confidence, and on my familiarity at his house. My fortune, Fleming and others said, was made. Reports, which arose naturally out of affairs, were diligently circulated, and, strange to say, with such absurdities I was gratified. Business increased, and a letter to my mother, of this date, thus concludes: 'I really quite fancy this town life. Professional stumbling-blocks have been gradually removed, and our social intercourse is delightful. I am troubled at accounts of your debility. Regards to Miss Carlton.' 'One person only felt fully the freezing conclusion of that letter. Nearly a year of bustle and ambitious exertion followed; unusual success made me arrogant, and led me at last to think of more quiet days the amusements and society of the country village, and the simple household of the widow coldly and seldom. Scheming, contrivance, and success, occupied the present, and pointed to the future.'

*

Ir was a very hurried letter, requesting me to meet him without delay. As I entered the magistrate's study, the last rays of day-light