such a mistake is cherished, the portraits of women will never be well executed. They will never bear the impress of mind.

Milton was a little skeptical on the score of female understanding, and hardly willing to allow the sex that equality of reason which is now pretty generally and generously too, acknowledged by all civilized men; but he may be pardoned, considering he lived in an age so ignorant that even his own peerless genius, was neglected or contemned, (might it not be a retribution for the injustice he did the ladies.) But notwithstanding the prejudice which the bard of Paradise sometimes displayed, he has left us the most charming description, of the effect which a lovely, virtuous and intelligent woman has over the minds of men, that is to be found in the English language.

"Yet when I approach

Her loveliness, so absolute she seems
And in herself complete, so well to know
Her own, that what she wills to do or say,
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best;
All higher knowledge in her presence falls.
Degraded wisdom in discourse with her
Loses discountenanced, and like folly shows;
Authority and reason on her wait,

As one intended first, not after made
Occasionally; and to consummate all,
Greatness of mind, and nobleness their seat
Build in her loveliest, and create an awe
About her, as a guard angelic placed.'

What a lovely picture! and true-but when was the conception of the poet ever embodied by the painter? And there is also another sweet description, in Shakspeare, of a woman, that I have often wished to see transferred to

canvass

-A maiden never bold,

Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
Blushed at herself.'

Who does not recognise in that sketch of Desdemona, the being of soul-the beautiful, modest, intelligent and heroic girl-who preferred her lover only for his estimable qualities of character

'I saw Othello's visage in his mind.'

Emily Woodworth did not exactly resemble either of these portraits. She had not the majestic loveliness of Milton's Eve, nor all that tender yet ardent enthusiasm which we may imagine characterized the victim bride of the Moor.

She had more vivacity than either. But there was usually a covert humor in her glance which checked the freedom her gayety would otherwise have inspired. A lover would have been sadly perplexed to decide whether the sweet smile that so often dimpled her cheek was for him or at him. In short I can think of no heroine that Emily so much resembled as Ellen Douglas; especially in that scene where Fitz James so gallantly volunteered to row her fairy bark, when

The maid with smile, suppressed and sly,
The task unwonted saw him try.'

But Emily Woodworth had a guardian-Was

she rich? No matter.

The gentleman who is prompted to make the inquiry would never have deserved her, and certainly never have obtained her.

'We will take lodgings half a mile, at least, from the Springs,' said Mrs. Chapman to her

husband, as their carriage passed in sight of the crowd assembled around the Congress fountain. 'I am n sure,' she continued as her eye rested on the castle like fabric of Congress Hall, at that time the largest and far the most splendid building in the village, 'I am sure, the noise and bustle of that house must be quite shocking to persons who have been accustomed to the regular, religious and literary society of Connecticut.'

'I was intending to board at Union Hall,' replied Mr. Chapman. We must not expect it will seem exactly as quiet and regular as our own home, but it will be more convenient for us than remote lodgings. You, Mrs. Chapman, intend to drink the waters; I came to see the folks, and Emily the fashions, and I think that Union house there, will be just the thing for our accommodation. Congress Hall I should like, only it looks as if it would draw a little too largely on my purse.'

Do you know what kind of company they have at the Union Hall?' inquired Mrs. Chapman, in a querulous tone. I should like to be with civil, well-bred people, not among the thoughtless and fantastic, who have balls every other evening. I wish we could go where our own friends and acquaintances resort. The Reverend Mr. Briley and his lady you know started a few days before us; and then Colonel Eastman and his two daughters are here, and Squire Ray and his wife, and the widow Post.'

'Yes, yes there's fools enough from Con

necticut here as well as we,' interrupted Mr. Chapman hastily—and then after a short pause, during which his good natured countenance exhibited a little embarrassment or vexation, such as we may suppose would naturally arise in the mind of a thorough man of business who felt himself, for the first time in his life, in pursuit of that pleasure which has neither definite name nor aim, but must be found jostling among a crowd of strangers in a strange place, he added, "I think, Mrs. Chapman, we have a pretty good chance of seeing Yankees at home; certainly we see our friends often enough there. Now I should like to be acquainted with some of the southern people, and I have been told that Union Hall was frequented mostly by gentlemen from that part of the country. Perhaps I may learn something about the management of cotton that will be of advantage to me in the way of my business and so, if you please, we will alight here and stay a few days at least,'-and he stepped from his carriage, while a waiter instantly attended to ask his commands. Mrs. Chapman was really fatigued, they had driven a long stage that morning, it was almost twelve, and so she tacitly assented to her husband's proposition.

;

They were soon installed in a pleasant apartment, the windows commanding a view of Congress Hall, with its stately pillars and airy portico, beneath which ladies were promenading, and gentlemen sauntering, both often pausing in their walk, as if charmed by the

sweet music that came at intervals from the apartment of some piano-loving votary within.

Those who have visited Saratoga, and who has not know that the scenery around the village makes no part of the attractions to that celebrated place. It is the Springs, and the crowd that sip the mineral waters that are the objects of curiosity. Mrs. Chapman was not much mistaken when, a few days after her arrival, she declared it was by nature the most disagreeable spot she ever saw. The street, she remarked, was always dirt or dust, (this was ten years since, perhaps she would now report differently,) and if one wished to walk out, there was nothing to be seen in any direction but a low sunken marsh that appeared as if it had never been drained since the deluge. And then for the ornament of the grounds, there was only stunted firs and other evergreens all looking as withered, crooked or sickly, as if they were languishing under the curse of some sibyl.

The contrast was indeed very striking between Saratoga, and the pleasant walks on the banks of the Connecticut. There the turf is so smooth and green, and the flowers woo you at every step, and the broad beautiful trees throw their graceful branches abroad as if rejoicing, like a beauty surveying her image in a mirror, to see their shadow on the green sward beneath. And then there is the river, diffusing over the wide meadows on its banks, a fertility unsurpassed in our land; and the fresh invigorating breezes from the pure waters and green hills,