a way as that I shall have occasion to wring out iny great coat again in receiving you-come and visit me again like a reasonable person. If I am yet living on the earth, you will again find me here.

"To live with nature in her simple accom- | summer, and seek me again here, yet not in such paniments,' continued the old man, that is a balsam for soul and body--that is a happy life! Neither is it of necessity that such a life should pass uselessly to others. Assemble animals around you like Philoctetes, which will love you and become attached to you. Are you rich. either in money or mind, be an unknown benefactor to mankind. And if you have lived only upon earth to purify and ennoble your own heart, then certainly you have not lived in vain-ai

least not for heaven.

"We sat upon a piece of rock above the waterfall. The descending sun changed waves and foam into glittering silver. I had sunk down at the feet of the old man. My heart was this evening light andeasy, and I ob served with pleasure and reverence the strong, broad countenance of the old man, and his high forehead garlanded with silver hair, as with an expression of piety he looked in the direction of the setting sun. He laid his brown hand upon my head, and said half gayly and half with emotion. ' Uff! young fellow, you have been a vagrant long enough; "It is beautiful to illuminate the night of to-morrow you must leave me, and return soberearth by their beams, kindled in their own pecu-ly home again. Uff! young fellow, keep your liar light; and to be able to contemplate the world from a higher point of view.

"If you cannot live in the society of men, live at least with them in their books. It is a glorious thing to think with and have intercourse with the first spirits of the earth, to be able to accompany them on their wandering through life, and on their road to heaven.

mouth shut, and don't say a word about the old man, or else the devil fetch him!'

"The old man spoke these words with such a thundering voice, and such wildly glancing eyes, that I looked at him in astonishment.

"Now, now!' continued he mildly, and with his customary smile, 'it is not so dangerous if you only keep silent-nothing so bad will befall him.'

"After this he gave me much fatherly counsel for the future. He advised me to renounce the social life of cities for a considerable time; to live in the country; to make use of much exercise; to occupy myself incessantly, and so on.

"That which for the most part opposes our earthly happiness, is that we seek for it in that which is impossible to us. Whatever we cast our desires upon-even if it be as unattainable as the Northern Lights-that we will have-that we strive after, and the world can offer us nothing worth even a wish except this one thing alone. We leap toward the sting till it wounds us. The bold and happy strength which can defy and conquer, may with justice maintain the contest; but the greater number act wisely in resigning in time, and seeking to reach their goal-happiness and freedom-by some other "The best way,' continued he, to stifle the way. We must bear in mind that we are no: demons of embarrassment and false shame is to combating against an enemy, but generally treat them with the greatest contempt, and to speaking, against the wise will of God, when we permit them on no condition to disturb our soul's are bent upon obtaining that in which neither peace. There are many ghosts-believe in this our social position nor our natural abilities can respect, a friend who has had experience-which succeed. Much wiser would it be to see in govern us despotically, till we look them sharpthese circumstances an ordination of the Al-ly in the face, illumine them with the light of mighty, and to follow whither His hand leads us, our reason, and ask from them Who are you? even were it ever so much opposed to our wish--Then we see nothing but shapes of vapor, es and inclinations. There is a haven, a lonely phantoms that have no endurance; dissonances untempested haven, where-uff! would he have which cease as soon as the human soul casts off a wife and child! Drop that entirely, young the earthly fetters.' fellow, and don't think about a wife if a wife will not have you! There is no true pleasure without resignation. If a man have not cour age to renounce something-uff! then he is, and must remain, a poor unfortunate!'

"I covered my face with both my hands, and the old man continued in a gentler tone

"I confess that renunciation is not easy; it is difficult to make a sacrifice. It demands strength and determination. It is beautiful, a wife who leaned herself on my breast-with rosy cheeks and loving voice-a wife, with a child in her arms-my wife and my child!—'

"The old man had spoken these words so completely as if carried away by sweet and bitter remembrances, that he had forgotten my presence; he quickly however endeavored to master his feelings, and exclaimed- Uff! I fancy, young fellow, you are weeping-Fy! Come let us go to rest. It is already late!' and, thus grumbling, he returned into the grotto.

"After this conversation, the old man was unusually still and serious for several days. The month of August was drawing to its close, and bringing with cold nights and shorter days.

"It is time for me to be setting out,' said the old man one day; 'but, young fellow, you must not ask me whither! Come, however, next

"These were the last words of the old man. The next day we separated. After an interval of a year I sought him in the same spot. Snakes crept about in the grotto; its friendly genius was not there.

"After taking leave of the old man, I returned to my family, without having formed any determined plan for my future life. I felt myself better; I fancied myself stronger. I loved domestic life; I loved mankind; I was attached to my family, and would not willingly separate from them; I wished to make one trial of myself in the world. But scarcely did I find myself in my former circumstances, than my former malady returned with all its sufferings. Once again I was a torment to myself and to those with whom

had intercourse. My nights were without sleep, and my short slumbers were disturbed by wild dreams. I fell off visibly. Horrible visions floated around me, and chased me as if it were through fire and water. They fashioned themselves at length to one fixed idea; waking or sleeping, working or resting, I saw perpetually two flaming, penetrating spectral eyes incessantly riveted upon me, with all that power which is ascribed to the eyes of the snake when it looks upon its prey. I feared to become raving madfeared, however, is not the word-I was too un

happy to fear anything, least of all absence of mind.

"I recollected very well the words and prescription of the old man, but I wanted strength to comply with them. I feared that at every step an abyss would open at my feet. I had a younger brother; he was good and beautiful as an angel. He loved me. I had been his instructor; I could be so no longer; but he attached himself to me nevertheless. 1 infected him, and his demeanor by degrees acquired all the instability of mine. I wished to die—I could not! I wished to go I had not the power! That demon had taken possession of me which Goethe makes to speak thus *

He who is in my possessing,

In the world has no more blessing;
Endless night, o'er him impending,
No sun rising nor descending;
And in mind accomplished fully
Only darkness breedeth dully;
And he knows, of all life's gaining,
Nothing is for his obtaining.
Good and ill are but ideal,
Want he knows mid plenty real:
Be it joy, or be it sorrow,
He defers it till to-morrow;
To the future only steady,
Thus he can be never ready.
Is it going? or abiding?
Power he has not of deciding!
On the beaten track he keepeth;
Tottering on, he feebly creepeth.
Still a deeper maze pursuing:
Every thing obliquely viewing:
Others and himself oppressing,
Breathing, yet scarce life possessing;
Life and death thus strangely twined,
Not despairing, nor resigned.

Thus a pauseless roll and ranging,
Painful suff rance, wilful changing.
Now released, and now oppressed,
Sleep but half-refreshless rest-
Rivet him in his position,

And prepare him for perdition.
"Unblessed spirits! I could exclain with
Faust. Alas! that I could not also say with him
in the moment when, breathed upon by Care, he

becomes blind

The night seems doubly dark to press upon me,
But in my inmost soul a clear light shines,
And what I thought I hasten to perfect.

that, he repeated the theft the next day, and the day following. This displeased the people, and they informed the master of the house of what had happened. He determined to examine closely into the affair, and one day, accompanied by several of his people, he followed the steps of the dog, and in so doing came to the tree under which St. Rochus lay. When he saw them approaching him, he called to them with a loud voice that they should not come near to him, as he had the plague and might infect them. Gianozzo, the master of the place, however, no way terrified thereby, had the holy Rochus conveyed to his house, and waited upon him till he had recovered. St. Rochus then, accompanied by Gianozzo, returned to Florence, and continued healing the sick. Gianozzo was consecrated by him to the severity of an anchorite life.

er.

"After many years of temptation, and the exercise of good works, he felt the desire of seeing his home once more, and turned his steps thithWar raged there; and being taken for a spy, he was thrown into a dark dungeon. But St. Rochus thanked God for his sufferings, and was tranquil and joyful in the midst of them. After having passed five years in this dark subterranean hall he felt the approach of death, and wished to speak with a priest. When the priest entered the prison where St. Rochus lay, he found it illuminated with a bright light, and the countenance of the saint beamed with a celestial glory, which so astonished the priest that he fell with his face to the ground. After this he has, tened out speedily to make the princes by whom he had been so cruelly treated aware of the sanctity of their prisoner. The report of this spread itself rapidly among the people, and an innumerable crowd streamed toward the prison where St. Rochus lay. He had, however, in the mean time, given up the ghost.

"That which particularly impressed me in this simple narrative was the behavior of the holy man during his illness. He left his couch, the comforts, the attendance which he enjoyed, and went out of the hospital in order not to disturb the other sick people by his lamentations. "One evening, as I sat in my chamber sunk Forsaken, and tormented with violent pains, still in gloomy melancholy, there fell into my hand he endeavored to keep at a distance those who -I do not remember in what manner-a legend hastened to his help, from the fear of injuring of St. Rochus. I will repeat it in a few words. them. I read his words again and again-and "St Rochus was born at Montpellier. He what? was I not like him, visited by an unforsignalized himself very early by fear of God, tunate malady? Did not I also operate injupurity of life, and industry in study. After the riously upon those who surrounded me? He death of his parents, he made a gift of his great left the hospital, he endured want, in order to wealth to a poor relation; and taking the pil- spare others he went out of the way in order to grim's staff in his hand, went to Florence, where procure them repose. Why should not I do as the plague then raged. Here he exhibited mir- he had done? How acted the lepers in former aculous activity, and performed many cures by times? must they not also avoid mankind? and prayer and the laying on of hands. At length were not they still only sick, only unfortunate? he himself was attacked by the plague, and en- I too was sick-I infected others-I must fly! dured such horrible suffering that he could not Yes-and I would do so. The persuasion that resist crying and lamenting aloud. As he saw, by so doing I could do good to those whom I however, that his cries disturbed the sick in the loved, gave me strength for a resolution which hospital, he stole out unobserved, and placed prudence otherwise might have forbidden to himself before the door. The people who passed adopt. I would depart-ah! that is to say, I by considered him to be insane, and drove him would bless those who belonged to me: I would from the city. Wearied and miserable he sank relieve my beloved ones, let God do with me down under a tree; a fountain sprang out of the what he would! earth here, and quenched his thirst.

"The people who lived at a country-house not far off noticed one day that the yard-dog stole a piece of bread, and ran away with it. He was punished for this theft, but spite of

* See Faust, Second part. The demon here is Care.

"I wrote to my parents, described to them my condition, my intention, and promised some day to return to them. Before they received my letter, I was at a considerable distance. I changed my name, and kept secret the direction in which I had gone. Thus I came into this country. It pleased me because it was solitary and wild.

meal; she disdained not to repose upon the mat which I had spread out for her. I am conscious of an inexpressible tenderness for her. Oh, if she could become my wife! With her hand I should not fear returning into the world. She would be my good angel. With her the world would no longer appear a desert to me. I should feel at home and happy by her side. She gives me repose; repose which makes me uneasy distant from her; which makes my cottage appear to me poor and empty, my animals burdensome and unsightly to me. Yet how beautiful, how amiable, does mankind seem near her!

"I am not poor. I can offer my wife a good position in society. I know what I will do. To

to my family, and make another trial among mankind; I will prove my own strength. Should I again find myself as unhappy as before, I will return to my solitude, tend my animals, praise God, and die. If I find that my malady is subdued, or that I have power to master it, O then I will go to her whom I love, and say to her

"Clara-I have heard thee called so, and how beautifully accords this name with thy being! Dear, good Clara, be my wife! I will dedicate my life to thy happiness!'

How deeply did Clara blush as she read this conclusion, which astonished and at the same time affected her. Hervey had left this manuscript behind at Umenäs; and, after Clara, no one read it with so much attention as the Baroness H.

"Now, Clara," said she, laying down the manuscript, "what do you say to this conclusion ?" Clara was silent for a moment, and then said smilingly

Here I built for myself a cottage. What I have done and what I propose, that you have seen. All is my work; Becassine alone has assisted me. He was my only friend and servant. I lived by the work of my hands. This strengthened me, and compelled me to turn my thoughts from myself. My mode of life and my solitude became dear to me. I understood or heard the powerful voice of the storm as a tone from the breast of the Almighty. My own breast replied to it. I saw the blue eye of heaven so large, so beautiful, looking down upon me. I read the Word of God in the flowers, in the blades of grass-they questioned not, they wounded me not. Silent and lofty stood the cliffs around me. I penetrated the shadowy woods, and there nest-morrow I will leave my cottage; I will return ling rocked my soul to repose. All was great, fresh, and untroubled around me; all lived its own undisturbed, powerful life. I was inwardly sound. My soul raised itself, and I breathed again. I went to the church to hear the excellent Hervey. Accidentally I even made a personal acquaintance with him. He has often done me good. I found myself better beside him, and all embarrassment fled. I felt the necessity of loving and being loved. I obtained animals. Their glance disturbed me not, and they were not disquieted by mine. They received their food from my hand, and licked it thankfully. They leapt when they heard my voice; their caresses animated my heart. I made them sociable one with another, and endeavored that both their life and their death should be easy. I devoted the half of my time to them, and the other half to my labors. It was not long before my soul became so tranquil that I began again to read. By degrees I felt-happy feeling!-that the demon which had so long afflicted me had departed from me; and in its place came an affectionate, friendly spirit, which enhanced to me the beauty of nature, and enriched my solitude with her treasures. In the bosom of nature, drinking from her fresh fountains, and penetrated "Yet we will very maturely consider the afby her powerful life, I felt myself inspired to fair, and in no case be precipitate," said the Bapoetry. In the storm, in the song of the birds, roness, who had altogether other intentions for in the humming of the insects, feelings, thoughts, Clara, and who felt herself not a little annoyed and images arose within me which clothed them- by the Colonist's declarations of love. "What selves in words, and from the depth of the wil- then is become of your disinclinations for mafderness arose the voice, of that lately one so un-riage," continued she somewhat excited, "perfortunate, which poured forth thanksgiving to haps you have left them up there among the the Creator for the life which He had bestowed. rocks and woods?" Never loved I God so much, never adored Him so worthily as in this solitude. * "Seven winters and summers have passed since the day on which I took possession of my beloved solitude. My soul was strengthened: I had enriched it during this time with a variety of knowledge. An agreeable repose had come over me. Amid this I became conscious of a desire for the society of educated people. I had a presentiment within me, that some time I might return to them without being a troubling spirit. There beamed to me a glimmering of hope that I also, in time to come, might be possessed of a wife and friends. Accident, a short time since, conducted a female form to me; since that moment I think only on her. She demanded not adoration, like a queen of heaven; she came rather with repose and peace in her whole being; she entranced every thought, without beauty; my heart beat light and tranquilly before her glance; she seemed to make all that she touched holy, all her looks were so gentle, all her words so kind; she was friendly toward me; she assisted me to prepare the evening

*

*

"We will think it over together, as soon as Hervey returns. If it turns upon making a good man happy, one may not so slightly dismiss the subject."

"No," returned Clara; "you yourself have re*moved them. Why have you presented to me for a whole year so beautiful a side of earthly life, if it were not to remove my fears of settling down at home in it ?"

Clara, my good, dear Clara! promise me only," said the Baroness, "that if you ever should marry, to remain in my neighborhood, otherwise I shall run away from my husbandthat I tell you, and shall tell him.”

CHAPTER XXIX.

MAY DAYS.

The Lord of heaven created all things, and revealed him. self in the full spring.-CONFUCIUS.

AND the winter passed over and the spring came-perhaps somebody very justly remarks, that this extraordinary circumstance occurs in every one of these little books of every-day li'e. But is it at all strange that we should admire spring? Spring is so deserving of love! The

"

sects, all streamed forth from his mouth full of light and order. His glance fell like sunshine on everything, and Hervey saw how God gazes through all things; all things proceeded from Him, all returned to Him. By Nina's side, and by her inspired, he became a Skald, the ennooled one of nature.

And she! she went by his side, and listened to his voice his words.. How beautifully changed the lights in her eye, the shadows in her world! How clear, how friendly were they! She felt at heart so warm, so infinitely happy! It throbbed with gladness, and full of a gayety hitherto unknown. Her being unfolded in such moments its richest blossoms. Roses glowed on her cheeks; her eyes exchanged their dark glance for a clear vernal light; her form, every limb, became fuller, her motions more livelyshe was a speaking image of felicity!

earth never can weary of its visits, may my reader only not weary of my description of them. The saps circulate in the bosom of the earth. The spirits of the elements pass over it, and nod, beckon, and call to one another. They desire to bloom in an earthly shape, and each one to express their souls in their own way. The eternal sun overflows all existence with a gush of light and warmth; toward which all buds shoot forth in order to be tormed and fashioned by the spirits of the elements. Quickly do these move their glorious shapes-silently, without labor, without bustle; thus does genius form its most beautiful productions. The moment is come, and nature spreads abroad its marvels. There shoots the foliage, perfect in its minutest parts, a marvel as great as the greatest in the world. Out of the bosom of the rocks springs the tender moss, and clothes them with softness. A thousand blossoms open their chalices, a mystery of And if this season of life's bloom lasted but beauty, for mankind as incomprehensible as for a morning, it is still beautiful to have entheir Maker. The humming insects unfold in joyed it; with the bosom bathed in love and wide space their purple wings-they are the free-spring to have tasted of the glory of life. This born of nature-therefore do they hum, drum, ruddiness of morning casts a bewitching splenfife, and sing. All is beautiful, great and small! dor on the whole of after-life. One bears the Every individual part so perfect, and the whole heavy days of earth much more readily when -who is able to comprehend the harmony, the the heart has once revelled in the fulness of hapaffluence, and the manifold forins of life? piness. But perhaps thou thinkest differently— thou who, after a life full of self-denial, wanderest onward in the silent gleam of the stars of the evening heaven, and lookest forward to a morning whose light shall never fail? Perhaps thou art right. I am not disposed to doubt it.

The spring in the north is not what it is in the south, a slow wakening of nature out of a long sleep. It bursts forth at once, like a youthful, joyous laughter. Yesterday there lay yet a mantle of snow on the earth-to-day it is gone, and the trees are in leaf. How the snow-fowl crows in the woods, how play the grouse, how sings the throstle, how odorous are the birches! Mountain and valley adorn themselves with gay flowers-the heaven swims in a sea of light! The sun will not go down; the night shows its countenance only for some minutes, and then again disappears. In these moments of twilight, the snowy suminits of the mountains all burn in flame, and fill the valleys with a fairy light.*

A deep transport vibrates through the heart of nature. Everywhere breathes life, warmth, and fragrance-an activity in every creature, fron man to the smallest insect-a voluptuous joy. In this aromatic world, in this air full of song, under this heaven full of transparency and light, stood Nina. She stood lost in wonder and delight in this fresh, marvellous life, and her being opened itself like the chalice of a flower in order to receive it.

By her side stood Hervey. O how beautiful for her were these hours of existence! They loved so deeply, so sincerely, so warmly; and silent nature participated in their love. All was in pure, harmonious accord. They did not speak of that which they felt for each other; they took themselves no account of it. One word migh have annihilated their heaven of pure felicity. They were together-that was sufficient. Ofi did they walk on in silence, and intoxicated with the strength of their feelings; and oft did Hervey give free course to his natural eloquence, which yet became more exalted through the presence of Nina. How vividly did Hervey grasp everything. How important were the subjects which he handled! The rocks revealed their secret treasures, the rocking of the sea received a meaning; the paths of the stars, the ways of men, the still working of the coral in

In the south, a passion like that between Nina and Hervey would speedily have burst out into a flame. It would have snapped asunder all bonds, have surmounted all impediments, and have kindled the marriage-torch or the funeralpile. In the quiet, serious north, where love arose and developed itself between the two, it took, however, another shape. Hast thou ever seen two stems of trees, which, sprung from different roots, yet drawn as it were by an irresistible attraction, pressed ever closer toward each other, and united themselves continually more intimately, till one rind inclosed both, and till it became almost impossible to indicate the spot where they grew together. The two stems are become one, and it is no longer in the power of man to rend them asunder without destroying the life of both. They draw in common their strength from the earth; their boughs are woven into one common crown; the same mantle of snow surrounds them in the night of winter; the same sun cherishes them; the same wind shakes their boughs, and the same birds find shelter under their roof of leaves.

Do happy consorts recognize themselves in this picture? May they be many! May they live long on the earth. They present a sight which is grateful both to God and man.

So deep, so still, so perfect was that feeling which united Hervey and Nina-and precisely because it was so deep and complete did it renain long a secret to both. It did not present itself to them as a strange feeling, which sudJenly arises and establishes itself in the heart; but it harmonized with their innermost being.

Nina resigned herself without hesitation to a feeling which perfected her whole life, and opened heaven to her. The memory of earlier connections became, as it were, extinguished in her heart. She knew nothing more of them; she thought no more of them. Hervey constituted her world, her life, her fate, her all. But that

provement which he was making himself, or to which he had stimulated others. It seemed as if that newly-ploughed land, that freshly-laiddown pasture, the nursery-garden, needed the glance of Nina, even as they did the rain and the sunshine, to make them flourish. Many men recognize the greatness of life and the power of God only in the grand events of history; the glory of Nature only in her sublime scenes, in her dazzling phenomena. Hervey saw in human life nothing more than what every cot

ner he discerned in the development of the crys alis, in the growing and ripening grain of coin, the power and order of all nature, her depth and her divine life. He called the attention of Nina to these things; he taught her to perceive how great, how clear, and at the same time how unlathomable, is the Creator even in the smallest of his creations.

word love never came into her thoughts; and as it occurred to Hervey, as it became clear to him what the feeling was which filled his heart, he then only formed the firmer resolve never to disturb her peace. He felt strength enough to keep the rein in his possession, if he could only be near her and ennoble her life; for he did not deceive himself regarding the influence which he possessed over her. But he did not call this fecling love. He desired not to excite love in her; he could not wish to unite her life with his, over which hung a gloomy shadow, an impene-tage is capable of presenting; and in like man, trable, immovable shadow, which would inevitably present itself at the moment that he should propose to unite Nina's fate to his own. He cast this thought far, far from him; but he felt compelled to seek her welfare, to bless her with the best that he possessed, with his knowledge, with his heart. He would give her everything, and sought nothing for it. Her devotion to him was a necessity, perhaps more so than he admitted to himself. In Hervey's soul lay so deep a necessity of making others happy, that the satisfaction of this feeling had hitherto alone contented him. It is on this account that he thought so little on the return which people made him; it was through this that he did not at all read the word love, which the lips of Nina expressed so plainly in her smile at his approach-the word love, which painted itself in her beaming glance, and in the happiness which his entrance diffused over her whole being.

He imparted to Nina his plans in reference to the improvement of the country, and the social management of its inhabitants, he solicited her opinions and her advice. Nina's eye for practical life extended its vision daily, and daily advanced in steadiness. She was inspired by the activity of Hervey; she instructed herself in his undertakings, and in all those which, through his recommendation and guidance, were commenced in the country. God be praised! Virtue and Diligence are even more infectious than Plague and Crime. One pure stein can engraft with its germs a hundred wild trees, and ennoble them all. From Hervey, Nina acquired a lively interest in the good of humanity, an interest which is the noblest characteristic of man.

But he came every evening to see her, as the pilgrim of earth turns himself toward heaven when his day of labor draws toward its close. With a good-humored impatience he pressed his sister Maria to make herself ready, and with The young friends often pleased themselves hasty steps led the way from Tarna toward with making little plans for the ornament of the Umenäs. At the sight of Nina he became qui- wild environs of Umenäs. A footpath was led eter. Clara and she were then almost always winding down into a lovely valley, and again at prepared for a ramble through the wild but ro- the foot of a rock not far from the sea was raised mantic country, in which Hervey knew every a seat of turf. A lofty tree lent its shade, a track and nook. They set out; the little party spring murmured near it, a luxuriant hedge of soon separated; Nina's arm rested within that wild roses extended on either hand from the of Hervey. They went on in advance, for Clara precipice. This little spot, which Nina particu usually soon slackened her pace. She remain-larly loved, was named NINA'S REST. ed with Hervey's sister, listening with a soft melancholy smile to the theme which Mariation or observation, as it would seem insignifi-' generally adopted in her conversation; this was scarcely ever other than her beloved brother, his tenderness and care for his family, his words and deeds, and the love and confidence which were universally conferred on him.

Nina in the mean time remarked that a ques-

cant in itself, disturbed Hervey's repose. An expression of pain then painted itself in his face; he continued long silent, and appeared to wrestle with himself in order to regain his previous mood of mind. Nina endeavored to be guarded in her words; but as she yet awoke that painful change exactly when she least expected it, she finally resolved to speak quite frankly with him upon it.

"It often happens to me," said she one day to him, "that I say something which gives you pain, and seems to excite the most agonizing recollections in you. I beseech you, teach me to avoid this."

Nina talked with Hervey with most especial pleasure of Edla. She described her as a lofty being, whom the sorrows and joys of earth could not reach; stern, yet mild; deep, but clear; concealing her good deeds as others concealed their evil ones; simple, yet uncommon, resembling no one but herself. She spoke of her own happy childhood by the side of her little beloved sister; of her long state of continued weakness after her death, and of Edla's influence over her. But her lips hesitated to express that which, with a thousand voices, sounded in her heart, namely, that she now first understood the beauty of life; was now for the first time young and happy, and now first praised the all-beneficent Creator, the giver of every good and beautiful thing Hervey listenel to her with quiet joy. He refreshed himself in her lovely spirit, which lay before him clear as a mirror. He listened withrious sun hine." an enraptured heart to the melodious voice, to the pure and simple speech. O how he loved ker! Often did he conduct Nina to the new im

He gazed on her affectionately. "That you cannot do," said he; "no one can do it. In this respect I lie under an influ nce which I am not able to escape from. Grant me but, one request," and he glanced at her with the deepest earnestness; "never speak with me of my past life; never put to me one question in reference to it. You might easily conjure up a shadow which itself is able to darken for me God's glo

"Gracious heaven!" exclaimed Nina wih bl nching cheek, and involuntarily raising her clasped hands.