ighty heart were stirred to its inmost core, by a consciousness of its
own grandeur. There is peace on her thoughtful, placid brow, and long,
long may it rest there.

The young man on my left is recognized at once, for there is no one like
him, my high-souled, gallant Richard. His eye sparkles with much of its
early quick-flashing light. The shadow of the dismal Tombs no longer
clouds, though it tempers, the brightness of his manhood. _He_ knows,
though the world does not, that his father fills a convict's grave, and
this remembrance chastens his pride, without humiliating him with the
consciousness of disgrace. He is rapidly making himself a name and fame
in the high places of society. Men of talent take him by the hand and
welcome him as a younger brother to their ranks, and fair and charming
women smile upon and flatter him by the most winning attentions. He
passes on from flower to flower, without seeking to gather one to place
in his bosom, though he loves to inhale their fragrance and admire their
bloom.

"One of these days you will think of marrying," said a friend, while
congratulating him on his brilliant prospects.

"When I can find another Gabriella," he answered.

Ah! Richard, there are thousands better and lovelier than Gabriella; and
you will yet find an angel spirit in woman's form, who will reward your
filial virtues, and scatter the roses of love in the green path of fame.

Do you see that graceful figure floating along on the white beach, with
a motion like the flowing wave, with hair like the sunbeams, and eye as
when

"The blue sky trembles on a cloud of purest white?"

and he who walks by her side, with the romantic, beaming countenance,
now flashing with the enthusiasm, now shaded by the sensibility of
genius? They are the fair-haired Edith, and the artist Julian. He has
laid aside for awhile the pencil and the pallette, to drink in with us
the invigorating breezes of ocean. Let them pass on. They are happy.

Another couple is slowly following, taller, larger, more of the "earth,
earthy." Do you not recognize my quondam tutor and the once dauntless
Meg? It is his midsummer vacation, and they, too, have come to breathe
an atmosphere cooled by sea-born gales, and to renew the socialities of
friendship amid grand and inspiring influences. They walk on
thoughtfully, pensively, sometimes looking down on the smooth,
continuous beach, then upward to the mellow and glowing heavens. A
softening