KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



245 



A GENTLE WHISPER. 



BY THE SOUTH WIND. 



There is a plant, which in its cell 

 All trembling seems to stand, 



And bends its stalk, and folds its leaves, 

 From each approaching hand. 



And thus there is a conscious nerve 



Within the human breast, 

 That from the rash and careless hand 



Sinks, and retires distressed. 



The pressure rude, the tone severe, 



Will raise within the mind 

 A nameless thrill, a secret tear, 



A torture undefined. 



Oh ! you who are by nature form'd 

 Each thought rehn'd to know, 



Kepress the word, the glance that wakes 

 That trembling nerve to woe. 



And be it still your joy to raise 

 That trembler from the shade ; 



To bind the broken, and to heal 

 The wound you never made ! 



Whene'er you see the feeling mind, 



Oh, let this care begin ; 

 And though the cell be ne'er so low, 



Respect the guest within. 



ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE. 



[This department of Our Jovrxal is one of its most 

 interesting, as well as valuable features. Amusement, 

 Instruction, Mental Improvement, and all the Social 

 Virtues, are here concentred. Whether the Subjects 

 introduced be on Natural History, Popular Science, 

 Domestic Economy, the Fine Arts, or Matters of General 

 Interest,— all are parefully digested, and placed before 

 our readers in the winning garb of cheerfulness, good- 

 temper, and a determination to please. Our amiable 

 correspondents enter readily into our naturally-playful 

 disposition, — hence are their contributions divested of 

 that dry formality which cannot be other than repulsive 

 to a true lover of Nature. Our columns, be it observed, 

 are not exclusive ; but open to all amiable writers.] 



The World of Fashion; a Dissolving View; and 

 Prospects of the Coming Season. — It was quite right 

 of you, my dear Sir, to take upon yourself the 

 responsibility of those remarks on the fashionable 

 world which were interwoven in my last communi- 

 cation to you. Whatever my thoughts might 

 have been, i" should not have dared so to commit 

 them to paper. However, you are to be highly 

 commended for so kindly and honestly speaking 

 out for your countrywomen's good. If, as you 

 have frequently remarked, there be a desperate 

 wound, the surgeon must probe it to the bottom. 

 Should it be only slightly healed, it would but 

 break out with increased virulence, and perhaps 

 terminate fatally with the sufferer. Let me tell 

 you that your observations have already pro- 

 duced a good effect in our neighborhood. Our 

 Journal is in great repute here; and its Editor's 

 unceasing endeavors to benefit society are highly 

 estimated. Let us hope that good sense will 

 induce people to read, mark, learn, and inwardly 

 digest what you have said for their good. Then 

 will all their past follies be buried in oblivion, 



and melt away in (what you playfully call) " a 

 dissolving view." Nobody can justly say that 

 you are personal in your strictures, or that the 

 shadow of ill-nature pervades your remarks. You 

 war with measures rather than with men, although 

 the latter are very properly responsible for the 

 former. Since you were here (more particularly 

 within the last few days), our garden has gone on 

 increasing in beauty. The apple-blossoms, pears, 

 and cherries, are presenting a most delectable 

 appearance. ' How infinitely diverse are they ! 

 There are no two alike. They are all beautiful in 

 degree, one surpassing and outvieing the other. 

 Yet is there not one which does not possess some 

 beauty peculiar to itself. Some trees present us 

 with flowers of a pure white. Others have streaks 

 of red, and varied shades; and add, moreover, to 

 beauty and elegance the most exquisite fragrance. 

 These, just now, stand still (as it were) for a 

 short season, to be admired. Anon, they will 

 vanish, again to come before us in another 

 pleasing form. As for our darling flowers, they 

 are springing up everywhere in choice variety, — 

 although a few genial showers would enhance 

 their already numerous charms. These, in due 

 course, will be sent us. You seemed pleased at 

 what you saw, but every day since has 

 produced something still more bewitchingly 

 attractive ; and in June, I hope to be able to 

 astonish you with our roses. They promise 

 much. Those tame hedge-sparrows have brought 

 their young family abroad. The robins have 

 commenced another nest in the greenhouse ! We 

 have four families of young blackbirds, and three 

 of young thrushes. The swallow is here ; also 

 the redstart, the merry cuckoo, blackcap, and 

 nightingale. An evening walk by our river-side, 

 is now a treat, — the air is so full of sweet sounds ! 

 The bird-trappers have been down, — of course ; 

 and we have lost several blackcaps and nightin- 

 gales. I hope, however, the choice few that 

 haunt our sequestered grounds will be safe. I 

 shudder at the thought of what may be their fate. 

 But it is of little use to keep on talking of birds 

 and flowers. It must be everybody's business 

 now to associate with them. I need not tell you 

 on whose side the advantage will be ! Human 

 nature ought to come oftener into contact with 

 such goodly company. We should then be all 

 very different from what we are now. At this 

 season every field is a temple, where we may 

 offer up the incense of a grateful heart, and the 

 thanksgiving of a virtuous mind, to the Giver of 

 all Good, whose gracious power is as visible in the 

 smallest blade of grass as in the motion of the 

 Heavenly bodies. The lark — you heard him, — 

 begins the universal hymn of praise, and wakes 

 the feathered choir. Obedient to the summons, 

 all join in cheerful harmony. No discord breaks 

 upon the ear; all is sweetest concord. Then 

 comes the golden sun, with his dear, glorious face, 

 sharing in and contributing to the joy and gaiety 

 of all nature. Then commence the raptures of 

 creation generally, when the smallest and the 

 greatest of living things have each their full 

 measure of delight. Morning after-morning do I 

 rise betimes, to see what I hint at ; and I think 

 I told you even more of my particular fancies, 

 when you were with us. At your request, I have 

 transcribed a few stray thoughts, though they are 



