ns with volcanic violence, to-morrow it is but a glimmering taper;
to-day its intensity warms the most cheerless cabin of poverty, to-morrow
its flickering rays will barely illumine the most cheerful abode of
wealth. It is a delusive light, that too often dazzles to blind."

"It may be so with the sensual," replied Cassandra. "With them it is
indeed a passion born of circumstances. Yet, after all, it is _not_ love.
It is but a poor semblance of the holy passion. Pure affection comes not
from the dross of earth, the wealth, power, and pageantry of individuals
or of society, nor from the ephemeral loveliness of the human form. Such
is, at best, the gross counterfeit of love, and undeserving its divine
name. When moral and intellectual worth--the beauties and amiability of
character--the noble evidences of exalted genius, excite our admiration,
and win our affections for the possessor, then indeed do we truly love,
and love a worthy object. Such, dear father, is my love for Parrhasius.
Submission to thy will must unite me to Thearchus, whom I cannot love; but
the undying flame of first affection will only make me more miserable."

Zeuxis was silent. He loved his daughter with exceeding tenderness; yet
burning ambition presented a paramount claim, and would not permit him
again to delay the nuptials on which he had resolved. He kissed the tears
from the cheeks of Cassandra, and was about to retire for the night; but
the maiden seized his hand, and, looking imploringly in his face, said:

"Hear me once more, dear father, ere the decree of my unhappiness shall
have irrevocably gone forth. Hope whispers in my ear that the prophetic
taunt of Parrhasius may yet be verified. Thou well knowest the genius and
spirit of that youth, and I know thy gentle nature will now forgive him
the utterance of words spoken in passion. Forgive, and Cassandra will be
happy."

"For thy sake," replied Zeuxis, "I will pardon the rashness of the
Ephesian boy. But why thy hope? Wouldst thou see thy father rivaled, and
the voice of Athens--of the world--loud in praises of another?"

"No," replied Cassandra, "it is not for that I hope; but thy daughter
loves Parrhasius, and she desires to see him worthy of that love in the
eyes of her father. This is the foundation of my hope. Is it not just?"

"Truly, such an aspiration is worthy of my daughter," replied Zeuxis; and
again bidding her good night, he was about to depart. But the maiden still
clung to