CHAPTER I. CHILDHOOD. "Full swells the deep, pure fountain of young life." Byron. Reader, did you ever traverse the West River Valley, from Rushville to Naples? Then you may have noticed, a little to the right of your road, on the southern slope of a beautiful hill, about two miles east of Lake Canandaigua, a two-story brick farm-house, half concealed by an orchard, with a small grove of hickory, interspersed with evergreens, and fringed with flowers and vines. Here, in the yellow leaf of life, enjoying a moderate fortune, and beloved by all who know them, reside Benjamin and Rebecca Lindsley. Here, in the happiest of domestic circles, with five brothers and two sisters, dreamed and danced away her rosy childhood, the subject of our Portraiture. In the valley, half a mile distant, stands "the grey old school house," where she was first inducted into the mysteries of science. From this point, the panorama before you is one of the finest in Western New York. To the north, the surface of the country swells into irregular undulations, rising in the distance into uplands, shaded here and there with primeval forests, or lighted with the green and gold of cultivated fields. To the south, as far as the eye can reach, sweeps a vale, diversified with meadows, pastures and corn-plats; and protected on both sides by woodlands, which tower away into lofty hills along the horizon. To the west, at the distance of about a hundred yards from this rude nursery of mind, occupying an elevation which commands the whole view, is the sacred repository of the dead; guarded on one side by an aged pine, and on the other by a beautiful ravine, with an embowered spring. Beneath the very windows, fresh from its fountain in the east, murmurs a wandering stream; which, after many an artful loitering by thorns and elms-the peaceful sentinels of its path-hurries south, through groves of maple and butternut, to mingle with the waters of the Canandaigua. Up the valley, shaded by many a tree, winds the public road from Naples; which, perhaps, to the infant apprehension of Adaline--as the Entepfuhl road to young Diogenes Teufelsdröckh, "led to the end of the world;" while the tri-weekly stage-coach, that passed hard by the door, seemed to our little poetess-as the daily post-wagen to the embrio Clothes Philosopher-"a great shuttle, weaving the two ends of the world together." Concealed in a grove, not far from the seat of science, still flows the Burning Spring, on whose brink collected the "young life" in the intervals of school, and watched the bubbles as they rose and broke-sad emblem of human hopes, which those joyous hearts had not yet learned to interpret! and amused themselves with the glare of the ignited gas that danced along the surface-fit symbol of the genius which, in one of the prattling number, was soon, alas! to consume in its own flame! Adaline's pupilage commenced with her fifth spring. At this age, she was a being of surpassing loveliness. Her form was perfect symmetry. Her features were delicately moulded, and radiant with the outbeaming soul. The rose blushed upon her cheek; and a profusion of light brown curls, adding grace to beauty, waved lightly about her neck and shoulders. Every thing about her betokened the gay and gladsome romance of her heart. Her prompt obedience, her timid and unobtrusive ambition, united with a happy facility in the acquisition and recitation of her lessons, individualized her among the students, and frequently won the precious "Reward of Merit," with many cordial expressions of partiality from the kind preceptress. With such facilities as the school afforded, she made no small proficiency. What was toil to others, to her seemed mere amusement. Quick of perception, and retentive of memory, she usually mastered her task before any of her companions; and then, in accordance with established usage, sat at rest till the recurrence of a residual duty. At the age of ten, she was pronounced an accurate orthographist, and a ready and expressive reader; had outstripped all her compeers in Geography, Arithmetic and English Grammar; besides devouring large volumes of history and biography, conversing with Robinson Crusoe on his "sea-girt isle," and familiarizing herself with the thousand and one adventures of the Arabian Nights. Her sisters were by several years her seniors; and only one of her brothers was of a suitable age to share the simple amusements of her childhood, and the loftier aspirations of her youth. This was Thales. For him she conceived a peculiar attachment; which, growing with her growth, and strengthening with her strength, filled her hours. with melodious voices, and developed from their chrysalis the gay young wings of her genius. The place she occupied in the fireside group, presented no obstacles which her buoyant spirit could not surmount, or her roseate fancy invest with flowers. Her smile was always the brightest, and her laugh the merriest. The impassioned appeal of her full dark eye, rarely failed to secure the gratification of any cherished desire; and if superior wisdom sometimes denied the petition, her sorrow flowed out with her tears, and sunshine succeeded the shower. CHAPTER II. RHYME AND ROMANCE. "And dreamed again The visions which arise without a sleep."-Byron. On the THE scenery of Middlesex, if it affords not an Olympus, may boast a lovelier Tempe. west end of Mr. Lindsley's farm, commences a wild and picturesque ravine; which, after winding for more than a mile between lofty precipices, crowned with umbrageous woods, falls into the valley of the West River. Through these romantic retreats, it was ever Adaline's delight to wander, hand in hand with her brother Thales, tracing the little brook, and plucking the wild flowers of the cliff. In the drought of summer, the current disappeared; and the numerous basins worn in the rock by the action of eddies were left full of water, in which congregated the tiny denizens of the flood. On the margin of one of these natural reservoirs, Adaline would sit for hours, chatting with the finny life at her feet, as with children of a common Father. It was during the period of her early visits to this ravine, that a talent for Romance began to develop itself. The rich Indian traditions, which invested the commanding hills in the vicinity, it was an easy effort of the imagination to amplify, and extend to |