I was in some respects a very fortunate man. If I had been a wise
one! It has been seen that I was singularly successful in business at
my first beginning in my native city. I had not been long in the
town of M--, before I began to congratulate myself on the prospect of
like fortune attending me there. The affairs of Kingsley brought me
into contact with several men of business. My letters of introduction
made me acquainted with many more; not simply of the town, but
of the neighboring country. My ardency of temper was particularly
suited to a frank, confiding people, such as are most of the
southwestern men; and one or two accidental circumstances yielded
me professional occupation long before I expected to find it. I
had occasion to appear in court at an early day, and succeeded in
making a favorable impression upon my hearers. To be a good speaker,
in the south and southwest, is to be everything. Eloquence implies
wisdom--at least all the wisdom which is supposed to be necessary
in making lawyers and law-makers--a precious small modicum of a
material by no means precious. I was supposed to have the gift of
the gab in moderate perfection, and my hearers were indulgent. My
name obtained circulation, and, in a short time, I discovered that,
in a professional as well as personal point of view, I had no reason
to regret the change of residence which I had made. Business began
to flow in upon me. Applications reached me from adjoining counties,
and though my fees, like the cases which I was employed in, were
of moderate amount, they promised to be frequent, while my clients
generally were very substantial persons.
It will not need that I should dwell farther on these topics. It
will be sufficient to show that, in worldly respects, I was as
likely to prosper in my new as in my past abode. In social respects
I had still more reason to be gratified. The days went by with me
as smoothly as with Thalaba. My wife was all that I could wish.
She was the very Julia whom I had married. Nay, she was something
more--something better. Her health improved, and with it her
spirits. She evidently had no regrets. A sigh never escaped her.
Her content and cheerfulness were wonderful. She had none of that
vague, vain yearning which the feeble feel, called "home-sickness." She
convinced me that I was her home--the only home that she desired.
It was evident that she thought less of our ancient city than I
did myself. I am sure that if either of us, at any moment, felt a
desire to look upon it again, the person was myself. I maintained
a correspondence with the place--received the newspapers, groped over
them with persevering industry--nay--missed not the advertisements,
and was disappointed and a discontent on those days when the mail
failed. My wife had no such appetite. She sometimes read the papers,
but she appeared to have no curiosity; and, with the exception of
an occasional letter which she received from her mother, she had
no intercourse whatever with her former home.