THE SPRINGS. -She had marked The silent youth, and with a beauty's eye Of solitude were visited by him PERCIVAL It was in July, 1818, that Emily Woodworth made her debut at Saratoga. She came accompanied by her guardian, Mr. Chapman, and his wife. Mrs. Chapman was a dyspeptic, nervous and very particular lady. In her youth she had been a celebrated beauty, and still felt all that thirst for personal admiration which had once been so lavishly bestowed upon her charms. But alas! for the woman who has passed her tenth lustre and yet has no claim to the attentions of society, save what personal beauty imparts. Such women have always a horror of being thought at all acquainted with Time-that unfashionable old gentleman is entirely excluded from their conversation, and any allusion to him, they deem, in their presence, impertinent. It was always with a look which seemed intended to petrify the speaker, that Mrs. Chapman heard her increasing infirmities attributed to increasing years; she wished to be thought young, and yet she had neither health nor inclination for the gayeties of youth; and so she eagerly condemned all pleasures in which she could not participate, as vain, frivolous or unfashionable. In short she was always of the opinion that those amusements, which were inconvenient or unsuitable for her, were either very vulgar or very sinful.' Mr. Chapman was an industrious mechanic, a carpenter by trade; but he had an inventive genius, and a persevering temper; and had generally succeeded in his plans and projects, till finally he had become not only the architect, but proprietor of several mills and one large cotton manufactory; and partly by labor, partly by lucky speculation, had accumulated a large fortune. He was a thorough Yankee, shrewd, sensible and somewhat sarcastic; at least his ready repartees, and the knowledge of characters and circumstances they frequently implied, made his wit often feared by those who felt conscious of follies or faults they did not wish exposed. Yet he was a good natured man, as the uniform forbearance, and even pity with which he listened to the peevishness and complaints of his wife, and his constant kindness in his own family, and the cordial civility with which he treated his friends, except when an occasion for a good joke occurred, sufficiently testified. Emily Woodworth-but I will not introduce her formally, by telling her height, or describ ing her features, or noting the color of her complexion, eyes, lips and hair. Take a pen, fair reader, look in the mirror, and then try the sketch yourself. But be sure and make Emily as handsome as your beau ideal of female loveliness, or I shall in future draw my own heroine's. And yet it is a task in which few succeed. The artist, proud of being complimented with possessing the skill of a Vandike in delineating the countenances of men, will find it extremely difficult, if not impossible, to paint the likeness of a beautiful woman. To be successful he must embody sense, spirit and modesty in that just proportion which shall give the idea of dignity as well as delicacy to features where passion has left no record; and he must impart meaning and expression to the 'smoothness and sheen' of a face where neither the ambition of pride or energy of thought have stamped any predominating faculty of soul. This task can only be accomplished by one skilled in reading the heart as well as drawing the head. There are but few descriptions of women, even in our best poets and novelists, that do justice to the female character. The mistake is that mere physical beauty, harmony of features and a fair complexion, are generally represented as entitling their possessor to the appellation of amiable, interesting, elegant, &c.-it is the countenance which is supposed to give a tone to the mind, not that the mind inspires the countenance. Such a mistake would never be made by an artist who was painting men. And while such a mistake is cherished, the portraits of women will never be well executed. They will never bear the impress of mind. Milton was a little skeptical on the score of female understanding, and hardly willing to allow the sex that equality of reason which is now pretty generally and generously too, acknowledged by all civilized men; but he may be pardoned, considering he lived in an age so ignorant that even his own peerless genius, was neglected or contemned, (might it not be a retribution for the injustice he did the ladies.) But notwithstanding the prejudice which the bard of Paradise sometimes displayed, he has left us the most charming description, of the effect which a lovely, virtuous and intelligent woman has over the minds of men, that is to be found in the English language. Yet when I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems As one intended first, not after made at a lovely picture! and true-but w.. was the conception of the poet ever embodied by the painter? And there is also another sweet description, in Shakspeare, of a woman, that I have often wished to see transferred to canvass A maiden never bold, Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion Who does not recognise in that sketch of Desdemona, the being of soul—the beautiful, modest, intelligent and heroic girl-who preferred her lover only for his estimable qualities of character 'I saw Othello's visage in his mind.' Emily Woodworth did not exactly resemble either of these portraits. She had not the majestic loveliness of Milton's Eve, nor all that tender yet ardent enthusiasm which we may imagine characterized the victim bride of the Moor. She had more vivacity than either. But there was usually a covert humor in her glance which checked the freedom her gayety would otherwise have inspired. A lover would have been sadly perplexed to decide whether the sweet smile that so often dimpled her cheek was for him or at him. In short I can think of no heroine that Emily so much resembled as Ellen Douglas; especially in that scene where Fitz James so gallantly volunteered to row her fairy bark, when 'The maid with smile, suppressed and sly, But Emily Woodworth had a guardian-Was she rich? No matter. The gentleman who is prompted to make the inquiry would never have deserved her, and certainly never have obtained her. "We will take lodgings half a mile, at least, from the Springs,' said Mrs. Chapman to her |