The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 11, July, 1835Various
General
The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 11, July, 1835
Various
American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals
me from their presence. Occasionally the idea would recur, "would it
not be better to return to my social feelings, unbosom myself to my
relatives, and be content with the good opinion of those with whom I
associated;" but pride and ambition would soon silence such
intimations of my better nature, and goad me on to the attainment of
my object at any sacrifice. In looking back through a period of more
than threescore years, I can distinctly recollect that sullen pride,
that mortified but unsubdued ambition which shut me out from the
pleasures of social intercourse, and "preyed like the canker worm, on
the vitals of my repose."
On perceiving the decline of my health and spirits, my father, with
little persuasion, prevailed on me to take out license and commence
the practise of my profession. By devotion to my studies, I had
acquired such a knowledge of the elementary works, as enabled me to
pass a sustainable examination before the judges of ----. In the
twenty-first year of my age, on the twenty-fifth day of October, with
my license in my pocket, I set out for a distant county court. It was
a fine morning; the air was bracing, but not cold. When I had mounted
my horse, and set off in a brisk trot, on a level and beaten Virginia
country road, I felt an exhilaration that the novelty of my purpose
and the healthy nature of my exercise was well calculated to inspire.
It is needless to inform the reader of the multifarious and never
realized visions of distinction and applause, that my heated brain
formed that day. There is something rather enervating in the young
dreams of love; but the early visions of ambition instil an ardor into
the soul, which nerves the faculties to the most daring enterprize, or
the most laborious undertaking. Both, however, heighten self-respect,
and diffuse a pleasing tranquillity over even excited feeling.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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