ry being in whose nostrils was the breath of
life; and that for his good, as well as for my own, it was my business to
labor. New motives of action, (or rather motives of action, for there were
none before,) were set before me; and I felt light of heart and wing;
eager to bound forward and lend the strength of my arm to the cause of the
race. The face of nature too was altered. Every part that came within the
range of my vision, her seasons, her vestments in winter and summer, her
sunshine and clouds, each one was a melody, and all together made harmony.
Still, I was scarcely sensible that I was different from what I was a year
ago; for at each period I felt that I was in my natural and proper state
of mind. So slight are the influences necessary to turn the young heart
into the permanent channel of selfishness, hatred and unhappiness, or into
that of love and peace!

It was not long before I found out that I loved my cousin Jane. How I
first discovered it I do not remember; but I do remember a firm and
abiding resolution, even then, that I would not love her. I sat down by
her side, I listened to her music, with that distinct impression. I would
not for the world have had any body suspect my feelings, because I was
ashamed of the weakness. I had persuaded myself, and could not convince
myself to the contrary, that there was no hope of her returning my
passion. And yet, with the words on my lips, 'This is folly--I will not!'
I yielded myself to the delicious current, forgot all the world and
myself, and in the intoxication of the hour, saw visions and dreamed
dreams.

But there came a shock; one which awoke me from a trance like that of the
Opium-eater. It was when I saw that my cousin's smiles and attentions were
not all devoted to me. There was another, a young man of promise and
expectations, a year or two my senior, and far beyond me in the graces and
polish of society, who had lately become intimate in my uncle's family.
Engaged in the same pursuits, and being much with him, I had rather liked
him; in fact I liked him very much. He had seen, admired, and in less than
six months, _loved_ my Cousin Jane: this I knew, for jealousy is
keen-eyed. You will not wonder then that I hated him; not on his own
account--alter his feelings toward her, and I should have felt toward him
as before; but on account of his love--hated him with a deadly hatred.

It would be useless to tell how often I have sat down and watched them,