locks from her pure pale forhead, and blew aside the light shawl she had thrown around her neck, displayed a face and form, which though wasted by sorrow, and marked by grief, were yet perfect in loveliness. "Every thing about me speaks of joy," said Sophia to herself, as she leaned for support against the tree;" the birds are singing in gladness, the fishes sport in the water; even the water, and the wind, and the light have a cheerfulness, as though they were glad to contribute to the happiness of nature. I have always thought Edward would appear to-day; and it seemed to me I should meet him in the morning without fear; because in the morning, fear seems banished from earth.. But he comes not;-and my aunt will seek me—I will return hither in the evening." Sophia passed the day in alternate struggles to appear with calmness in the presence of her aunt, and then in an utter abandonment to her feelings, in the seclusion of her chamber; now praying, in a passion of tears, for the return of her husband, and then shuddering at the thought that he would, perhaps, meet her that evening, beneath the willow tree; now reading to her aunt portions of scripture, and then flying to her own room, and seizing a novel to divert her mind from its horrible forebodings, All the regret and remorse she had suffered for doing wrong had not made her careful in doing right; nor did the knowledge that the cup of her own mingling had made her miserable, induce her to inquire where she should find the well-spring of eternal happiness. How necessary it is, that pure principles of conduct, such as a sacred regard for truth, and the subjugation of passion and imagination to reason, and the precepts of the Saviour, should be carefully implanted in the youthful heart! The evening came, and Sophia was again by the rivulet, watching the glow of sunset as the light faded from the mountain, and then from the clouds, till their gorgeous colors were all melted and mingled in one mass of sombre grey, and then, by degrees, it assumed a darker and still darker hue. "O, that cloud! it is just the emblem of my dream of happiness," thought Sophia. And, at the moment, she fancied she heard a sound. It startled her. She listened intently; she looked around-it was too dark to distinguish objects at any distance, but she saw nothing. It was probably a bird, disturbed on its perch, and it gave one note of song ere it sunk to rest. The sound came again, like a low voice, and Sophia thought it pronounced her name. She started up, supporting herself against the tree, but then she could hear nothing, save the beating of her own heart, and the gentle flow of the waters at her feet. "Sophia!" at length came in a low but clear tone, as if close to her ear: "Sophia!" She turned her head-Edward's form was there and his face was pale, she thought-but it was only a thought. "Sophia," he again said, and she felt herself folded to his bosom ! She She had been expecting to meet his spirit, and she would probably have sustained the sight of what she considered a supernatural appearance, without much agitation. She was prepared for it. But the revulsion of her feelings, the change from a terror that had nerved every faculty to bear up and sustain it, to a tumultuous joy, that dissolved her whole being in rapture, was too much for her weakened mind and frame. fainted in Edward's arms, and she never recovered. died,—the victim of an injudicious education, and the superstition of romance. She was buried beneath the willow tree, and the last time her husband was seen, he was kneeling beside her grave. It was in the dim twilight; the next morning he had left the village, and gone no one knew whither. She THE MINSTREL MAID. The sunset's wings are all unfurled, The lake that sleeps beneath the eye, "All who wear my armour, shall feel my power; none shall wear Beauty's crown, but such as pay homage to me."-Loves of the Graces. RAMBLING. Life, with all its rainbow promises, its bright and gilded prospects, arrayed in gorgeous colors by deceitful Fancy, is a brilliant spectacle. The gay procession is constantly moving on. Ever and anon, a victim is singled out by the " King of terrors," and cut down without a moment's warning. The multitude passes unheeding by. As it advances, its pathway is thicker and thicker heaped with the ghastly spoils of the grim monarch, Death. Pallida Mors æquo pulsat pede pauperum tubernas. See the fickle crowd that is thronging Fashion's gaudy courts! How hard they find it to persuade themselves that this is happiness! Look! Each with a countenance wreathed in smiles, but veiling a heart, the prey of gnawing appetites, clamoring for sustenance, is trying to cheat himself and his neighbor too, into the belief that he has at length attained the summit of his wishes. Turn your attention next to that knot of haggard faces, the votaries of mammon. See! with what ardour of purpose, every muscle strained to its utmost point-the whole man girded about and nerved for the race,-gold's uncertain good is made the thrilling object of ambition's fiercest struggles! Night and day, with scarce a breathing interval, the noblest energies of the immortal mind are stupidly wasted, nay more, are abased by this grovelling chase after what the Apostle rightly terms, "filthy lucre." For this, alas! for this auri sacri fames! friends are sacrificed without scruple; the best affections of our nature are allowed to run to waste, or to shoot up in rank luxuriance, fastening themselves to the base objects of sense and appetite; the generous charities and tender sympathies of social and domestic life are rudely trampled under foot; self becomes the ruling principle, the unworthy spring of every action; the ties which bind man to his fellow-man are broken, or used merely to further some selfish project; and what is worst of all, that beneficent Being, the author of every blessing which crowns our days, nay, the giver of those very faculties which we thus see so shamefully perverted, is cheated of his rightful service, his |