d
castles and dainty boat-houses, great old forests and ruined cities.
Tender, cool-eyed lilies fringe its rippling shores, straggling arms of
longing seaweeds are unceasingly wooing and losing its flying waves; and
on its purple bosom by night, linger merrily hosts of dancing stars.
Bright under its limpid waters gleam the towers of many a 'sunken city.'
Strong and clear through the night-silence of eager listening, ring the
chimes of their far-off bells, the echoes of joyous laughter: and to
waiting, yearning ones come, ever and anon, deep glances from gleaming
eyes, warm graspings from outstretched hands. And well windeth the river
into grim old caves, and even the merriest boat that King Cole ever
launched flitteth by the dark doors, intent only on the brilliant
_chateaux_, that shimmer above in the gorgeous sunlight of a brave
_Espagne_. But laughing imps, with flying feet, venture singly into
these realms of the Unknown. Bright streameth the light there from
carbuncles and glowing rubies; but of the melodies that there bewilder
them, no returning voice ever speaketh, for are they not Eleusinian
mysteries? But when thou meetest, O brother, sailing down the stream
under gay flags and rounding sails, some Hogarth or some Sterne, who
playeth _rouge et noir_ with keen old Pharaohs, and battledore with
Charlie Buff; who singeth brave _Libiamos_, and despiseth not the
Christmas plums of Johnny Horner; who payeth graceful court to the great
and learned, and warmeth the pale hearts of the shivering poor with his
kind cheer and gentle words; who sitteth with Socrates and Pericles at
the feet of an ever-lovely Aspasia, and whispereth _capricios_ to Anna
Maria at the opera; know then, O beloved, if thou hast ever trodden the
mystic halls, that this man is the brother of thy soul! Selah!

But the bravest stream that ever was born on a mountain side has its
shoals and quicksands, and far out in the sounding sea rise slowly coral
reefs. Now, if on every green, growing isle newly rising to the
sunlight, the glorious jealousy of some Jove should toss a Vulcan, how
would our Venuses be suddenly charmed by the beauties of a South Sea
Scheme! how would their tiny shallops dot the curling waves, and what
new flowers would spring upon the smiling shores to greet their rosy
feet!

'And why a Vulcan?' says the elegant Narcissus Hare, with a shiver; 'a
great, grim, solemn, limping monster, that Brummel would have spurned in
disgust! And