University of Virginia Library

VERMONT.

`This is a strange world,' said a friend, laying down
the Token. `Your remark is more true than original,'
I replied. `The mass of moving and intelligent beings
who compose the world are strange enough, no doubt.
The world, of itself—I mean this planet on which we
dwell—is most beautiful and perfect; but the word has
many different meanings. To the fashionable, Washington,
New York, and Saratoga, are the world; and provided
that is not quite large enough, fashion makes the
world extend to Niagara, and down the St Lawrence.
Sometimes a man's home is his world, and occasionally
the world is his home; and sometimes, too, there may
be a poor wretch who has no home in the world.'

`I care not for your explanations and definitions,'
said my friend; `here is a work professing to be purely
American—and there are many others—and yet there is
no end to the slanders which are cast upon one of the
New England States. Is a place out of the world,
that is, out of all worlds—it is sure to be in Vermont.

Does a man four feet broad and seven feet high appear
in the “Bay State”—he is said to be “from Vermont.”
“Ah yes! from Vermont,” lisps a dandy, four feet and
three inches in length; “quite a promising young man.”
Is a student awkward, ungainly, and unmannerly—“You
would think,” say his fellow students, “he came from
Vermont.” Does a young Vermonter gaze with rapture
upon a fine landscape—“No wonder,” is the exclamation,
“he never saw anything but pine trees before.”
Does he dwell with still more intense admiration on the
fair face of beauty—“Why, he is only enchanted by the
novelty of a white forehead and red cheek; everybody
knows the faces of Vermont girls are the color of a
Swedish turnip.” Has a woman a great ancle—“She
is a native of Vermont—a small town,” says a reigning
belle, “on Lake Superior. I have always understood
lake air was injurious. When my father and I went
there, I persuaded him to entrust his affairs to an agent,
and hurry away as fast as possible; for I believe my
foot and ancle increased the third part of an inch the
two days we were obliged to remain in that out of the
way place.”—“My son is very unfortunate,” sighs an
elderly lady;—“I have been very much distressed on
his account.” “Has anything in particular happened,
madam, to cause so much anxiety? Allow me to hope
it may be in my power to relieve you.” Still the lady
sobbed and wrung her hands, and, as I gathered in the
intervals of her sorrow, her son lived in Vermont!
Poor young man! doomed by the necessities of business,
and the sad prospect of making a large fortune, to
reside in a State where there is nothing but bears
and pumpkins! She felt for him sincerely—deeply—
nothing but a wilderness—no society, except here and
there a family in a log house! This young man, however,
finds his property increasing, and his prospects
good in every respect. He engages himself to a lovely
girl; and when he speaks of the time when her dignity
and virtues will grace his quiet home—“Impossible!”
she replies; “would you expose me to all the trials and
dangers of a life in Vermont?” He reasons and expostulates
to no effect; and then, in the plenitude of
his wisdom, removes to the city, because his wife cannot
live in Vermont! “Poor Mary!” exclaim her
friends, “she has been used to comforts and delicacies,
and it would not be right to deprive her of them.” And
so he lays down his independence and his good judgment,
at the shrine of a woman's whim.

`In faith I desire no worse punishment, than to be the
owner of such rich tracts of country as this State presents—fertile,
cultivated, and most romantic. I would
sooner be a dweller in some of its towns bordering on the
Connecticut, or those rich vallies that bound its western
frontier, than to revel in all the luxuries which belong to
the most boasted cities. There is no higher enjoyment,
which is connected with anything earthly, than to
watch the changing beauty of its landscapes. Many
are the hours I have stood upon yonder eminence, and
marked the beams of the descending sun upon the
plains, the river, and its villages, gradually shadowing
the hills, till the topmost boughs of the tall fir trees were
the only objects which received its parting glory. That
passed away, and the light mist curled upon its brow,
flinging its fantastic wreaths over tree and rock, till it
reposed in one dense mass upon mountain and plain.
Then the moon arose, and shone upon this moving lake,
till it seemed to smile and dimple in its clear beauty.'

`Upon my word!' I exclaimed, `here is a description,
and from you!' `From me? Am I not a native of
Vermont, and have not my fathers long dwelt here?
They were honorable and wise, and it is the sarcastic

smile which plays upon the lip, when my State is mentioned,
which rouses my pride. “Oh! nobody knows
where—up in Vermont!”' `But you should remember
such sarcasms are from the ignorant.' `A very just
remark! Everybody is ignorant when Vermont is
mentioned.' `Pardon me,' I replied, `for again alluding
to the subject. You have convinced me there is fine
scenery in your State, but I have heard nothing with
regard to your men and women.' `As it respects the
former,' my friend replied with a serious air, `I cannot
perhaps be a correct judge. Many years since there was
a circle of gentlemen, whose united worth, talents, and
graceful address, made them the delight of a much more
extended circle than their own; and who are remembered,
for but few of them remain, as constituting a
school of wisdom and politeness, now comparatively forgotten.
They were thrown together in times of public
excitement, and their actions and writings remain, to
prove their patriotism and genius. I have often wished,'
he added, `that their lives and private virtues were
made the subject of something more than a passing notice.
At present many of our young men seek distant
States, for the display of talent, or the acquirement of
wealth; but it may be truly said of those who remain,
that no section of our country can boast of a class of
men of purer morals or better energies. The claims of
hospitality are understood in every grade of society;
and I am well assured, if there is a reading and thinking
population in any part of America, that population
is to be found in the slandered State of Vermont.' `But
the ancles of her ladies—surely you have not come to
a conclusion, with this part of the argument untouched?'
`As to that,' said my friend, `there is proportion in the
character and persons of my fair State's women; and
proportion is beauty.'