Charlemont; Or, The Pride of the Village. a Tale of KentuckySimms, William Gilmore
General
Charlemont; Or, The Pride of the Village. a Tale of Kentucky
Simms, William Gilmore
Kentucky -- Fiction
Why this fate has fallen upon so sweet an abiding place--why the
villagers should have deserted a spot, so quiet and so beautiful--it
does not fall within our present purpose to inquire. It was most
probably abandoned--not because of the unfruitfulness of the soil, or
the unhealthiness of the climate--for but few places on the bosom of
the earth, may be found either more fertile, more beautiful, or
more healthful--but in compliance with that feverish restlessness of
mood--that sleepless discontent of temper, which, perhaps, more than
any other quality, is the moral failing in the character of the
Anglo-American. The roving desires of his ancestor, which brought him
across the waters, have been transmitted without diminution--nay, with
large increase--to the son. The creatures of a new condition of things,
and new necessities, our people will follow out their destiny. The
restless energies which distinguish them, are, perhaps, the contemplated
characteristics which Providence has assigned them, in order that they
may the more effectually and soon, bring into the use and occupation of
a yet mightier people, the wilderness of that new world in which their
fortunes have been cast. Generation is but the pioneer of generation,
and the children of millions, more gigantic and powerful than ourselves,
shall yet smile to behold, how feeble was the stroke made by our axe
upon the towering trees of their inheritance.
It was probably because of this characteristic of our people, that
Charlemont came in time to be deserted. The inhabitants were one day
surprised with tidings of more attractive regions in yet deeper forests,
and grew dissatisfied with their beautiful and secluded valley. Such
is the ready access to the American mind, in its excitable state, of
novelty and sudden impulse, that there needs but few suggestions to
persuade the forester to draw stakes, and remove his tents, where the
signs seem to be more numerous of sweeter waters and more prolific
fields. For a time, change has the power which nature does not often
exercise; and under its freshness, the waters DO seem sweeter, and the
stores of the wilderness, the wild-honey and the locust, DO seem more
abundant to the lip and eye.
Where our cottagers went, and under what delusion, are utterly unknown
to us; nor is it important to our narrative that we should inquire. Our
knowledge of them is only desirable, while they were in the flourishing
condition in which they have been seen. It is our trust that the
novelty which seduced them from their homes, did not fail them in its
promises--that they may never have found, in all their wanderings, a
less lovely abiding-place, than that which they abandoned. But change
has its bitter, as well as its sweet, and the fear is strong that the
cottagers of Charlemont, in the weary hours, when life's winter
is approaching, will still and vainly sigh after the once-despised
enjoyments of their deserted hamlet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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