h me_! _I_ did
not make that festering, sinful heart of his, nor did I lure him on to
hope that I would _ever_ wed him. If love is _heaven_, what were life
with him!

"I cannot write more--_non sum qualis eram_! yet the sun shines
brightly on me still as in my childhood, and the future is _full_ of
hope. If I have cleared myself of the imputation of the folly and
heartlessness some have laid to my charge, it is well; _I_ cannot
think that my proceedings have been _very_ dreadful, or sinful; they
did not frighten honest-hearted, noble Ned Graham.

"And after this, when you see a woman whose conduct to you is quite
unexplainable, and full of mystery, listen, dear friend, and bid those
around you listen a little more earnestly, to the voice of _human love
and Christian charity_; and trust _me_, the number of women _who have
the power_ to act _long_ in direct opposition to all the better
impulses of woman's nature, is _surprisingly small_.

"If your trust continues in me still unshaken, as in the days gone by,
come ere long to Wisconsin, and I will insure you a husband of the
'free soil,' who shall bear as little resemblance to _our_ faithless
George, as my Ned does--and a home in the wilderness, this glorious
wilderness.

"God bless you, love--good bye!----."

"I have not yet obeyed the call of my friend to the far west," _now_
her happy home. Do you think it advisable that I should place myself
in the hands of such a--; but first let me ask you,

_Do_ you think Florence Cleveland was a coquette?

And--_is_ this _once_ prolific topic _yet_ exhausted?

I cannot conclude this discourse, "my hearers," without repeating to
you a song, which appeared some years ago in "Graham." It is by Miss
Barrett. Has it ever yet been "set to music?" if not, I would advise
some composer to neglect no longer so beautiful an effusion. And when
the _deed is done_, let every lady learn the song, and every gentleman
stand by and listen to it humbly. Here it is.

THE LADY'S YES.

"Yes!" I answered you last night--
"No'!" this morning, sir, I say;
Colors seen by candlelight,
Cannot look the same by day.

When the tabors played their best,
And the dancers were not slow,
"Love me" sounded like a jest,
Fit for "yes" or fit for "no."

Thus the sin is on us both;
Was the dance a time to woo?
Wooer light makes fickle troth--
Scorn of _me_ recoils on _you_.

_Learn to win a lady's