Year: 1859

alter that determination and return at the
expiration of that time. To this hope she
clung with deathless tenacity; for she felt
that when this was lost, despair must take
its place.


Time rolled slowly on, every month, week,
day and hour were noted by Alice; for the
wild throbbiugs of her heart kept time to
the passing moments. At last, the forests
began to glow with the tints of Autumn
A few weeks more, and her fond hopes must
either be realized or blasted forever. Winter
came, and the chill December winds swept
over the frozen earth. But he did not come.
Winter passed, and Spring began to deck
the earth in her robe of beauty. Still he
came not Though everything seemed to
feel its genial influence, and to rejoice with
renewed life and vigor, there was one heart
to which it brought no ray of happiness
Its bright sunshine had no power to pene-
trate the darkness that enveloped the tomb
of broken heart.


Alice did not cease to hope, for "hope is
plant that cannot be rooted out of a noble
breast, till the last heart.strings break, as it
is pulled away" But that hope grew fainter
and fainter as time rolled on. The bright
smile no longer played upon her lips; the
rich glow Of health faded from her cheek ;
her ringing laugh was no longer heard she
was dead to everything, save her own deep,
silent sorrow, "that like an ocean, dark, deep
and shoreless, rolled its billows DER her SOUL "
Who can estimate the length, breadth,
height and depth of true woman's love-
Love is with her kind of religion which is
almost necessary to her existence. And
when once the idol that she adorcs is rudely
torn from the sanctuary of her heart, naught
but smouldering ruins remain, in which no
other image can ever be enshrined. 1t is to
this sacred passion, this undyiug affection,
that the poets picture of love is so striking
ly appropriate


There is fragrant blossom. that maketh glad


the garden of the heart;


Its root lieth deep; it is delicate, yet lasting as
| the lilac crocus Of autumn


Loneliness and thought are the dews that waterit


morn and even;


| Memory and absence cherish 1t, as the balmy


breathings of the South;


Its sun is the brightness of affection and it bloom


eth on the borders of Hope;


Its companions arc gentle flowers and the brier


withereth by its side.


l saw it budding in beauty; felt the magic Of


its smile;


The violet rfjoiced beneath Il, the rose stopped


down and kissed it;


And thought some chcrub had planted there


truant flower of Eden.


Love is sweet iJolatry enslaving all the soul,
a mighty spiritual force warning with the dullness


of matter,
An angel mind breathed into mortal, though


fallen yet how beautiful!


All the devotion of heart in all its depth and
grandeur"


"Femiua fragile ct mutabile," were the
words of the Mantuan Bard; "mendacem
puelam," was the epithet of the Venusian
Poet; "frailty," says Shakespeare, "thy name
is woman !" "woman," says Byron, "thy
VOWS are writ on sand" But the united
testimony of all the bards that have ever
lived, would not disprove, that there is such
thing as constancy in woman, and that
there may be such things as broken hearts.


Nearly three years had passed since Harry
Wentworth's departure from L.. Du'
ring this time Alice had continued slowly,
but steadily to decline. She studiously con,
cealed her grief from every one. When at
length, the malady that was preying upon
her mind, began to take effect upon her body,
her parents became alarmed and thinking
that the pure air of the country might be
beneficial to her, they took up their residence
at Woodlawn. But the life and Joy that
those scenes had once inspired were gone
forever. 1t is true that she paid some at.
tention to the gardening operations, and en-
tered with apparent interest into many other
rural occupations, in order to dispel the anx-
iety of her parents. But there was only one
duty, for such she considered it, in the per-
formance of which, she felt at heart, any in
terest whatever. 1t was her daily custom,
just as the shades of evening were falling
upon the earth, to wander forth to the grave,
where her earliest and only faith had been
plighted There she would recall the joys
which gilded that happiest period of her life.
And as the scenes of that bright time came
thronging back upon her mind, memory
would linger lovingly around those golden
moments of the past, which could never,
never, never more return. Then, as she
knelt beside the grave, the name of the alb
sent one would be waited before the "great
white throne" and blessings invoked upon
his head. And if perchance he was no lon.
ger living, her prayer would be, that she
might soon meet him in that bright land
where sorrow would never throw its blight
upon her joys, and where she might "soothe
her wounded spirit, with balm from the am
araBth of heaven"


The residence at Woodlawn had no effect
in restoring the declining health of Alice
Vernon. She continued slowly to waste
away under the dreadful disease that was
preying upon her heart. Her parents find
ing all their efforts to restore her, fruitless,
and beginning to suspect the nature of the
malady from which she was suffering, deter