ROUGH SKETCHES OF FEMALE FIGURES. FROM THE PORT-FOLIO OF A TRAVELLING ARTIST. BELLE BRONSON A FAMILY group were sitting round the fire one winter evening. The mother was engaged with her knitting-needles; the two daughters, both of whom had recently 'come out' in society, were discussing a party they had attended the previous evening. The eldest held a book in her hand, which rested on her lap; a finger was kept between the leaves, to mark the place where she had been reading when the conversation became too engrossing to permit her to attend farther at that time to its contents. The younger sat with her arms crossed, and her head turned a little aside, as if in a critical mood; a brother in his teens, 'tired of play,' was sitting on a bench with his head on her lap, and his brains in dream-land. 'What high spirits Belle was in last night!' said Clara. 'Belle is always in high spirits when in gentlemen's society,' remarked the elder sister, who was called Emily, after her mother. 'I was told this afternoon,' continued Clara, 'that she did not leave until two o'clock; that she waltzed, danced every quadrille, and carried on a great flirtation with the young Lieutenant.' 'But the young Lieutenant affects more than he admires her,' said Emily; and I should certainly think that I had made a most unfortunate impression, if he should say of me what he said of Belle.' And what did he say of Belle?' asked the mother, looking up from her work. 'That she was a delightful companion for a gentleman, because she seemed so happy to be with one.' The mother resumed her occupation in silence. 'I think, mother, that Belle is no favorite of yours,' said Emily. 'No,' interposed Clara; dear, quiet, staid mamma cannot sympathize with a gay girl so full of animal spirits as Belle.' The mother looked on her younger daughter with a kindly and expressive smile as she replied, 'It is not Belle's animal spirits, but her animal nature that I object to.' Clara's head drooped as she thought of the distinction. Emily mechanically resumed her book, continuing to gaze on the same page, while her mind was on Belle. There was a truthfulness in the observation of the mother, that had presented to each of the daughters the character of Belle in a more distinct light. And now, kind reader, let me tell you what I know of Belle Bronson. A hearty, bright-eyed, chubby little school-girl had she been. She was neither malicious nor romantic; she was devoted to no study, and exhibited no taste for reading, or any other intellectual pursuit. Her lessons were passably compassed; and where she failed, her short-comings were indulgently received, as her genial disposition made her a general favorite. Belle was a good eater, drinker, walker, sleeper, and romper. The gar dener would pick flowers for her, and the gardener's son would row her in the boat on the little lake near the homestead, and she would tell him about her school-mates and her thoughts and feelings so familiarly, that the boy thought her an angel of condescension. Her French teacher, too, was charmed by her manners, and loved to instruct the little damsel who clapped her hands when he came, and seated herself so confidingly by his side, and told him how much she admired his fine white teeth and his beautiful black whiskers. When Belle grew to be a young lady, she lost none of her good-nature toward her own sex, and her admiration for the other was strengthened. One had such a fine figure, another was so droll, another had such eyes, and another she found so very entertaining, that her male acquaintances had each some point to elicit her encomiums. She had a great faculty of making herself agreeable, through her good looks, her social feelings, and an instinctive knowledge of the weaknesses of her gentlemen associates. Such were the fascinations of Belle before she was out of her teens, and she has lost none of them by desuetude, now that she is a woman of twenty-five, in the full enjoyment of society. Yes, the full enjoyment of society, or at least of its lower phases, cannot be denied to buxom Belle. She lives in the present; and with a fine physical constitution and a warm temperament, she delights in all exercises, recreations, amusements, and socialities. She is voluble, without true conversational power; but she looks on the men so admiringly, her hearty musical laugh responds so readily to their dullest jokes, that with the additional attractions of a pretty face and unconstrained manners, she draws them in clusters round her. Calling forth attentions as she always does, it can still be seen that there is a certain class entirely without the circle of her attractions; a class who treat her with courtesy, but do not seek her society; who are not affected by her praises; who appreciate her good disposition, but do not find in it an atonement for the want of other charms; who can see her mental shallowness; who can feel the want of that unselfishness which is indispensable to all positive goodness, and is the soul of all nobleness; and who, breathing a purer moral atmosphere than she, are conscious of her uncongeniality. But Belle's empire is by no means limited; and although she feels that there are some over whom she is powerless, she satisfies herself with the influence she can exert. She knows there is something about those who do not yield to her attractions that she cannot understand or sympathize with, and contents herself with the fact, without attempting to discover the reason. Men love to walk, to talk, to ride, to dance, and to romp with her. She impresses them, I will not say psychologically, for the term is too elevated to convey the idea, but rather with than through her physical organization. If you walk with her or sit by her side, she seems closer to you than other women in like situations, and communicates an animal warmth. There is a peculiar something in the grasp of her hand, and she wields a power through the influence of a sensual magnetism. Fast men and practical men' feel at home with her, and the most bashful grow unembarrassed in her presence. However much her society is enjoyed, no one feels purified by it; and not a human being has ever left her side induced by her influence to perform a good act from a lofty motive. I beg you, dear reader, not to question Belle's 'character.' No overt act of hers has deprived or will deprive her of the legal right to be called 'virtuous.' If she is not a lady by nature, she is one by education and association. Her fault is not sinfulness, but want of sinlessness. She is not chargeable with vice, but she lacks virtue, in its higher and positive aspect. The ennobling, pure, self-sacrificing, tender thoughts of the true woman are unknown to her, but she knows her position in society, and will not forfeit it. Passion will not make her fall: she has too much judgment. Love cannot make her fall: she has too little soul. Belle has had many admirers, and a large proportion of them have been young men, unaccustomed to female society, who blindly fancied themselves to be devotedly and for ever attached to the object of their adoration, but who soon opened their eyes, and married elsewhere. 6 There are three gentlemen who are foremost in the list of her standard attendants. The first is a clergyman, rejoicing in the universal name of Smith: a man who is rather a favorite with the females of his congregation; who is not without talent of a common-place description; who is steadily orthodox, so far as his creed is concerned, and decidedly opposed to any new ideas or new lights;' his mental digestion being too weak to receive the one, his mental vision too feeble to endure the other. Mr. Smith's congregation feel themselves therefore very safe under his charge, and trust implicitly to his care the task of driving from his fold all wolfish errors that may attempt an invasion. Mr. Smith has more steadiness but less frankness than Belle; and indeed his organization and tastes are such that his clerical position leads him to be a little hypocritical. He is no violator of conventionalities, and indulges his worldliness without breaking down a single barrier of propriety. It will be more correct to say that he gloats than that he dotes on Belle. He admires her buxom figure, her blooming cheek, her laughing eye, her voluptuous carriage. He does not think of her as the wife who will share his cares and pastoral duties, and be his angel-companion and comforter, but as the wife of his youth and health, whose good looks will ornament, and whose good temper will enliven his house, and whose sources of enjoyment are akin to his own. Mr. Smith has a manly figure, black hair, eyes and whiskers, and a dark complexion. He loves to dine with his wealthy parishioners. Belle's next satellite is Thomas, or as he is commonly called, Tom Bolter. To a has a taste for flashy vests and coats with brass buttons. A cigar seems to be naturally connected with his mouth. His hair is luxuriant and inclined to curl, and his teeth are regular and beautifully white. His manners are easy and graceful, without being polished. He is one of the pleasantest specimens of a 'fast man.' He is determined to enjoy himself, and wishes to see other people enjoy themselves. He is a good-hearted creature, and does not pretend to be any better than he is. He considers' Belle' a 'splendid girl,' and she regards him as a 'noble fellow.' Attentive as he is to her, he goes to see her as he would call to look at a fine horse or a new turn-out. My own opinion is, that after a few years he will begin to tire of his life of excitement, and marry some dear little, timid, foolish girl, who will look upon him as a great man. The last of the three is Mr. Felix Burton, a little, pursy, bald-headed stock-jobber, who is possessed with the idea shat he is extremely fascinating to the other sex. He is an unmitigated flatterer; and as his compliments are generally received either with a smile of satisfaction, or a smile created by his folly, he is quite sure of being a universal favorite. His admiration of Belle is extravagant. What a woman to preside at his table; to do the honors of his parties and receive his guests! And how they would enjoy themselves together at the watering-places! Reader, it is written in the book of fate that Belle Bronson is to be Mrs. Felix Burton. The claims of Parson Smith will fade before the flatteries, the constant attentions, and the wealth of Felix. Tom Bolter, although best liked, is least smitten of the three, and it would not cost him a heart-pang to learn that his 'splendid girl' is to be married to morrow. I could cast Belle's horoscope without difficulty, but why use the pencil farther? There are many worse women in the world than Belle. There are some better, thank GOD! CAPE COTTAGE AT SUNSET. BY WILLIAM B. GLAZIER. WE stood upon the ragged rocks, When the long day was nearly done; Blew the red tresses of the sun. Along the west the golden bars Still to a deeper glory grew; Above our heads the faint, few stars Looked out from the unfathomed blue: And the far city's clamorous jars Seemed melted in that evening hue. O sunset sky! O purple tide! O friends to friends that closer pressed! Nor fix that radiance in the west. Upon those rocks the waves shall beat With the same low and murmuring strain; But when together shall we meet Newcastle, (Me.,) August 25, 1851. |