er has a soul susceptible of those divine impressions of the beautiful which are among the distinguishing characteristics that prove man superior to his 'brothers of the clod,' he act knowledges at once the interest of such a countenance. No human eye ever regarded a rose, rainbow or star, and turned away disgusted; and seldom do we find a person that can gaze on either with perfect indifference. Such apathy would argue a man's mind more disagreeable, if not as dangerous, as to have no music in his soul'-which, according to Shakspeare, is one of the seven deadly sins.

But Isabelle Carrick was never regarded with indifference. The men praised and admired; the women praised too, as loudly as the men, but I fear there was a little envy, or at least, a little repining mingled in their feelings. of admiration. What makes this suspicion probable, I have been told that they always concluded their eulogy on her beauty by saying it was perfect, considered as a specimen of the West Indian style the men never made a qualification in their panegyrics.

'I think,' said Miss Dutton, 'that Isabelle's cheek wants bloom. She has a fine, delicate complexion, and it contrasts sweetly with her profusion of curls,

"Whose glossy black to shame might bring
The plumage of the raven's wing."

Now tinge her cheek with a little "celestia. rosy red," and she would be in appearance, what you gentlemen esteem her, an angel'

'But you probably recollect,' replied Edwin Cone, 'that the "rosy red" to which you allude, was imparted by a blush, and Isabelle's cheek wears that tinge at the least compliment or emotion--a tinge that may be considered celestial," as it proceeds from delicacy of mind, from sentiment, and is not dependent on jocund ealth, and never needs the repairs of art.'

“

'But then her eyes, Edwin.-Do you really admire such black eyes? They seem too spirited to please me. I know the Mahometans celebrate their dark eyed Houris, but I believe Christians usually connect the beautiful skycolor with the idea of angels' eyes.'

Edwin Cone was very polite. He saw the blue eyes of the fair speaker beam with the expectation of a compliment. Could a gallant man refuse it? With a bow and smile he declared it would be profane to compare angels' eyes to aught save stars, and those were always set in blue; and that the most charming description of woman's orb of vision he ever saw, was

-She had an eye,

As when the blue sky trembles through a cloud
Of purest white.'-

The very next day, Isabelle Carrick learned that Edwin Cone disliked black eyes. But happily her heart was not at all interested in his decision. Had John Ranson made such a declaration, she would probably have felt very wretched.

There is no subject on which the old and young differ in opinion so materially as on the

qualities most likely to ensure happiness in the married state. The aged are swayed by interest, the youthful guided by feeling. Perhaps it would be difficult to decide which party are oftenest disappointed. Those matches are undoubtedly the happiest, which have been contracted equally from affection and prudence; -but heroines are not very apt to consider prudence necessary. At least, when Isabelle Carrick married John Ranson, in opposition to the wishes of her uncle, she did not consult her interest-and that is to be imprudent—is it not? An answer to that question, properly discussed, in all its bearings, would fill a volume. I wish some rationally moral philosopher, who has made that wayward thing, the human heart, his particular study, would write a treatise on the subject.

Mr. Tolbert held true English aristocratic ideas of love and marriage. The faith of true lovers,' he observed, was of no consequence, except "to adorn a tale." It was amusing to read of love in a novel, but to believe in its reality, or that a particular fancy for the person was necessary to make men and women happy in marriage, was as absurd as to credit the stories of dragons and demons, knights and necromancers, exalted characters, and enchanted castles, and all the materiel of the romances of chivalry, from which the unreasonable ideas of love had been imbibed. The marriage most likely to ensure happiness to the contracting parties, must be founded, like any other bargain, on mutual interest; some

substantial benefit must be conferred on each, by the union; and then, the knowledge that their partnership was indissoluble, would induce them, if they had common sense, to treat each other with complaisance, which was all the felicity that ought to be expected.'

Isabelle Carrick had heard these sentiments of her uncle expressed a thousand times, and illustrated by many anecdotes of contented couples, who married for interest, and wretched pairs, who wedded for fancy; but she did not, it seems, profit much by such wise lessons and lectures. She loved John Ranson, although her uncle charged the said John with being a poor man's son, and, moreover, guilty of being obliged to earn his own livelihood, though he had, by his industry, and application, raised himself to the station of junior partner in a respectable mercantile establishment. Should such a plebeian be preferred before Edwin Cone, whose father, descended from a respectable English family, was possessed of a large fortune, and gave the most splendid dinner parties in the city?

Mr. Tolbert thought it but of small consequence that Edward Cone was a licentious profligate, and had broken, at least, one engagement to marry. However, he did not command his niece to accept of Edwin; he only said, 'you may take your choice, Isabelle. If you marry Mr. Cone, I will give you ten thousand pounds on the wedding day, and the remainder of my estate at my decease-but should you wed John Ranson, I will never give

you a shilling, though you were starving at my gate.'

Isabelle preferred John; and her uncle soon after left America, in high dudgeon, railing at the manners and customs of the people, and declaring that his niece would never have been guilty of such folly, in a country where a proper respect was paid to rank; that the levelling principles of republicanism were subversive of all gentility, and must, while they governed the people, effectually prevent the regulations of good society from being understood and adopted.

'They are all,' said he, 'so perfectly canaille in their sentiments, that Isabelle's choice was commended in some of their highest circles, because, forsooth, John Ranson was industrious, enterprising, and clever ;-I can say as much of my footman.'

Fourteen years passed-Isabelle had counted the lapse of time, only by the recurrence of new blessings and pleasures, and to her, life still looked bright; or, if a cloud appeared, it was always spanned with the rainbow. She was still lovely, and beloved; the tender, tried, and trusted friend of her excellent husband, and the mother of one beautiful boy. What more can earth offer of happiness! But why dwell on the picture?

A day of bliss is quickly told,

A thousand would not make us old
As one of sorrow doth-

It is by cares, by woes and tears,
We round the sum of human years-