inging out
into the clear air in joy and sweetness. And never have I heard those
musical bells jingle one harsh or unharmonious sound. She is married
now--poor thing--and the mother of three "little curly-headed,
good-for-nothing, mischief-making monkeys."

Notwithstanding her exceeding loveliness, Cousin Jehoiakim preferred
me, and actually offered me his great broad hand, as you shall see.
She was a perfect Hebe, while my style of beauty was more of
the--though to confess the "righty-dighty" truth, as little folks say,
my beauty was of that order which took the keenest of eyes to
discover. There were a pair, however, dark, and full of soul, that
dwelt with as much delight on me as though I were Venus herself.

Oh! those were dear, darling eyes, and were in the possession of the
best, yes, the very best specimen of Nature's modeling that New
England contained; Nature wrought him from the finest of her clay,
after her divinest image, and his parents named him Edgar Elliott.

Sister Anna and myself had been making our usual Christmas visit to
Aunt Charity, or Aunt "Charty," as we used to call her, in good old
Yankee language. Aunt Charity dwelt in Boston; and was the wife of a
very excellent man, in very excellent circumstances; and the mother of
seven dear, excellent boys, of whom Cousin Jehoiakim Johnson was _not_
one.

How delightfully flew our days on this particular Christmas visit. I
felt myself in a new world. A world of brighter flowers, and brighter
sunshine; for, although I was eighteen, never until then had I been
any thing but a wild, thoughtless, giddy child. And then?--the truth
is a new star had burst upon my horoscope, bright and beautiful, that
so bewildered my eyes to look upon, I was forced to awake my heart
from its long sleep, to supply the place of eyes. Steadfast it gazed
into that bright star's heaven-lighted depths, until I recognized it
as my guiding star--my Destiny!

Oh, Love! thou angel! thou devil! thou blissful madness, thou wise
folly! Thou that comest clad in rainbow garments, with words more full
of hope than was the first arch that spanned high heaven, stouter
hearts than mine have been compelled to own thee master. Prouder
hearts than mine have listened to the witcheries of thy satin-smooth
tongue until they forgot their pride. More ice-cold ones than mine
have been consumed in the immortal fire thou buildest--the heart thine
altar, Love, thou monarch of the universe!

Every th