ARISTOCRACY; OR LIFE IN THE CITY. CHAPTER I. "We have been friends together THERE is nothing under the sun that fills us with such a holy horror, and gives our nervous system so violent a shock as the idea of travelling through a lengthy "Introductory," in order to get at the commencement of a novel. To us it is like the time taken up in strapping the trunks on a stagecoach, or to get up steam in a locomotive or steamboat, when the passengers are all on board and ready for starting; -when the desire to be in motion is strongest, and delay from such causes is most irksome. Nor are we particularly partial to the antiquated style of commencing, such as-"It was on a bleak night, in the month of December, in the year fell in torrents on the roofs of the houses, and pattered loudly against the windows of an old mansion," &c., or-"It was upon a fine evening in the month of June, that two travellers, the one a male and the other a female, might be seen issuing from a lonely wood, when, as they reached its verge, and neared a copse-wood on the road, to their terror and dismay four armed horsemen leaped from behind the same, and blocked up the passage before them." Or even the account of a solitary wayfarer, with a heavy cloak, and a large slouched hat drawn over his eyes, evidently for the purpose of concealment. To our mind these customs are "more honored in the breach than the observance," and we will none of them. Among the many reasons why we refuse to adopt this style,—and this must be our apology to those readers who are partial to it-is the fact that it is not suited to the subject of our when the rain | veritable narrative; the scene of which is not laid in that part of the country where such romantic commencements would wear the appearance of probability; or even the time, one that would excuse an occasional flight of fancy. We have selected as our stage, the crowded city, with its unvarying monotony; and the time-so (9) near the one in which we live-pre- The grandfather of Francis Carrol, cludes us from encouraging our penchant for the awful, the mysterious, or the poetic. Having thus-as politicians would say-defined our position, we will without further prolixity enter upon the substance of our story. however, who resided in the state of Georgia, was a man of immense wealth; though that circumstance was of slight advantage to Francis, for his father, having incurred the displeasure of the old gentleman by marrying a poor, though amiable and accomplishIn a neatly furnished apartment in ed young lady, was disinherited by a house in street, in the city him. He disclaimed all connection of Philadelphia, one morning in the with his son, and ever after refused to year 183-,, sat a young man, whose correspond with him, or any of his attention seemed to be absorbed by a family. The grandfather after this large book which lay open upon a event entered a second time into the table before him; and which, from a matrimonial state, and a daughter by certain indescribable something about that marriage he had declared his it, as well as from its sheep-skin bind- heir. ing, would probably have been taken for a law-book without further examination. As this young gentleman is destined to occupy a prominent place in the following pages, it may not be inappropriate, before we proceed further, briefly to give his history, and such a description of his person as may satisfy those who are not too curious as to the minutia of detail. The father of our hero died when the latter was twenty years of age; he was then in Europe, travelling with his early friend and college companion, Edward Wharton. On hearing the news of his father's decease, he returned immediately to Philadelphia; and not wishing to pursue his father's business, he settled up his estate, paid all his debts, and finding, when he had done so, that there was but a narrow pittance left for himself, he entered himself with an eminent lawyer, intending to practise that profession for a living. Francis Carrol-for by that euphonious name we are pleased to designate our hero-was the son of a highly respectable merchant of Philadelphia. His father had commenced the world upon a small capital, but through his industry, and his capacity for business, he had at one time amassed a considerable fortune, and was thought to be one of the wealthiest men in the city in which he lived; but, meeting with misfortunes, it was discovered subsequent to his death, that after disencumbering his estate from debt, there would be but a small remnant of what former- a fault to be found with his personal ly belonged to him left for his only son. appearance, it was that his complexion At the time we have introduced him to the reader, he was about two-andtwenty years of age; possessing a tall, dignified and graceful figure, and a countenance that was strikingly handsome and expressive. He had a high, intellectual forehead, a quick, penetrating eye, and features that were remarkable for regularity. If there was more than ordinary promise. But those who had formerly fawned upon him, assumed now a patronizing and condescending air that was disgusting to a sensitive mind like his. He discovered that it was the gold, and not the man that had been courted, and he turned from them, to seek in solitude and study that gratification and return which society had failed to afford him. Of all his former friends those who had thronged around him in prosperity-he extended that name, and acknowledged that relation now to but one; and that one was Edward WharNothing had cooled the warmth might by some have been considered | him: Oh no, for he was not literally too light for a man. Notwithstanding poor! besides, those who had known the quick glance of his bright eye, it him considered him a young man of wore a subdued expression; indeed his whole countenance was characterized by a cast of thought and melancholy not usually observed in one so young. Francis Carrol was a young man of considerable capacity, and his ambition equalled his talents: but the ingenuous disposition of his youth had been deceived; his ideas of his fellow-men had not been realized; and when he discovered how much they had fallen short of the standard by which he had measured them, he felt in the severity of his disappointment a desire to flee from them, for he looked upon them as something less than nature. He had been ton. brought up and educated in the first of their friendship, nor had any cirsociety, and by his companions he had cumstance severed a single tie that always been considered as the heir to bound them together. an ample fortune, and as such, he had been courted and flattered by many of them. But when the death of his father exposed the real state of his circumstances to him, and his integrity in liquidating every honest claim that could be brought against his parent, had reduced what else had been his, to still narrower limits he found that the world, which had before been all smiles to him, put on the mantle of reserve, and received him with a gloved hand. Edward Wharton, though a young man of great fortune, was by education and by intellect above drawing invidious distinctions between persons merely on account of their comparative wealth. He utterly despised that mushroom aristocracy that is compelled to raise an edifice on a foundation of money-bags; and he ridiculed those who affected to hold in contempt all whose means did not enable them to live in the same style, or move in the same circle with themselves. We will, however, no longer dwell in narrative; but with the reader's permission we will return to Francis Carrol, whom we have kept still sitting at the table; when in fact his meditations were disturbed almost the same moment of his introduction, by the entrance of his friend Even those who were indebted to his generosity for the payment of debts, that by law they could not have recovered even they extended to him only the distant courtesy of acquaintanceship, when they had before been proud to claim his friendship. Let not the reader suppose that the world absolutely turned its back upon Edward Wharton. |