Twice  only,  according  to  tradition,  has  this  singular  group  suffered
perturbation  from  the  passions.  Alas!  what  mortal  is  secure  from  the
piercing  shafts  of  love !    V/hat  celestial  panoply,  what  earthly  device^


1845.]  A  Pioneer   Sketch.  Z9t


can  save  from  his  unerring  aim  ?  He  scatters  the  arrows  of  his  quiver,
riding  unseen  upon  the  earliest  rays  of  the  morning,  and  whithersoever
they  go,  there  is  he  in  their  midst.  He  sends  them  to  the  hut  and  the
palace,  and  with  the  zephyr  rustling  through  the  green  leaves  of  the
forest.  He  planteth  them  by  the  wayside,  and  streweth  them  both  upon
the  fallow  and  the  barren  ground.  He  spinneth  his  cunning  and  invisi-
ble web  like  gossamer  among  the  dews  of  evening.  It  gathers  about
us  unheeded,  within  the  halo  of  the  festive  lamp  ;  beneath  the  mild  sweet
beams  of  the  queen  of  night  and  her  attendant  train,  and  in  deep  dark-
ness  it  abideth,  growing  brighter  and  stronger  with  the  dawn.  He
maketh  his  sport  of  our  security ;  he  laugheth  in  fierce  glee  at  our
fanciful  safe-guards.  When  with  his  gun  and  pouch  the  sportsman
wanders  forth  for  game,  he  first  tries  his  skill  in  arresting  the  flight
and  bringing  to  the  earth  some  swift-winged  bird  of  the  upper  air;
he  then  selects  the  fleetest  and  coyest  animals,  and  having  rendered  him-
self  complacent  by  a  succession  of  choice  triumphs,  he  becomes  less
select  in  his  aim,  and  at  last  shoots  in  mere  wantonness  the  coarsest
beasts  of  the  field  or  forest.  His  pouch  full  of  delicate  birds  for  the  table,
he  nevertheless  pours  the  deadly  charge  into  raccoons,  and  buzzards,
and  ground-hogs.  Or  if  perchance  he  seeks  game,  and  finds  it  not,  he
vents  his  chagrin  by  shooting  the  bark  from  some  tree  more  gnarled  and
knotty  than  the  rest.  In  like  manner  cruel  boys  grow  weary  of  the
gay  plumage  and  sweet  songs  of  their  caged  birds,  and  the  graceful
antix»  of  their  pet  squirrels,  and  find  rare  delight  in  placing  coals  upon
the  back  of  a  poor  awkward  mud-turtle.  The  turtle  is  common  and
coarse,  but  to  see  him  with  coals  on  his  back,  to  see  him  put  forth  his
head  and  claws,  and  grope  about  to  escape,  that  is  sport  indeed  !

So  it  was,  as  the  story  goes,  with  Love  on  one  fine  morning  in  May.
