of moonlight! Passion had not yet stamped
its indelible mark on that placid, smooth sur-
face, but slumbered within, till occasion should
call forth its mighty powers to furrow that
youthful forehead. The dark hair was parted
in the centre, and fell in straight masses on
each side of his face, forming a strong relief
to the pale hue of the features. The eyebrows
were marked and expressive, and the hazel eyes
beneath were of marvellous beauty. As they
were raised to Heaven in fervent prayer, a
deep devotion, an ardent faith, an intense sup-
plication shone in them, and bespoke the
divine spark within. But in their clear depths
many an impassioned thought and feeling
lurked. They spoke of bright day-dreams
which had not as yet been realised, neither
had they withered;
- of undying love, should
the bright ideal of those dreams be found; of
unchanging faith amid sickness, and sorrow, and
death;-of endless grief which might consume
such a heart, should the fair hopes of youth
be blighted, and the one loved being be snatched

from the enfolding arms. They spoke of high ambition-the burning thirst after knowledge; the longing to excel in something-in a word, the spirit which makes the sublime poet, the immortal painter, the glorious sculptor-orator -author. The mouth was exquisitely chiselled, and the curved upper lip bespoke a firmness of decision and stability of character contrasting finely with the down of opening manhood which darkened it. At this moment an ecstatic smile parted the lips as heavenly mercy descended into his soul; but the smile of cutting scorn or softest tenderness seemed equally familiar to its proud formation. The rest of the features were regular and finely chiselled -all was in harmony with the noble breathings of soul which shone on the brow and in the eyes; yet there was a peculiar something in the whole, which, to a fanciful or superstitious mind, might have seemed as though the young mourner had been fore-doomed to sorrow, and sent into the world with the stamp of misfortune on his features. In sooth, melancholy

?

suited best with that faultless countenance, and the look of joy seemed strange to it.

And Antonio Cellini was indeed gifted by nature with powers of mind such as few possess. His disposition was gentle and affectionate, his temper unvarying and placid, and his considera tion for the feelings of others unbounded.

The beauty and singularity of the scenery amidst which he had been born, and had expanded into manhood, had tinctured his mind with a deep romance, and an enthusiastic love of the sublime and beautiful. He had wandered by moonlight through the glades of the forest and dreamed of fairy revels and goblin haunts; he had climbed the high mountain at mid-day, and gazed on the boundless plains and far-off horizon, where distant lands seemed faintly pourtrayed-he had lain on the river's brink beneath a shading tree, and drunk in the tales of glorious chivalry, till knights in glittering armour and plumed casques the forms of bright and beauteous women, the clang of arms, and the pomp of tournaments had floated

from the enfolding arms. They spoke of high ambition-the burning thirst after knowledge; the longing to excel in something-in a word, the spirit which makes the sublime poet, the immortal painter, the glorious sculptor-orator -author. The mouth was exquisitely chiselled, and the curved upper lip bespoke a firmness of decision and stability of character contrasting finely with the down of opening manhood which darkened it. At this moment an ecstatic smile parted the lips as heavenly mercy descended into his soul; but the smile of cutting scorn or softest tenderness seemed equally familiar to its proud formation. The rest of the features were regular and finely chiselled —all was in harmony with the noble breathings of soul which shone on the brow and in the eyes; yet there was a peculiar something in the whole, which, to a fanciful or superstitious mind, might have seemed as though the young mourner had been fore-doomed to sorrow, and sent into the world with the stamp of misfortune on his features. In sooth, melancholy

suited best with that faultless countenance, and the look of joy seemed strange to it.

And Antonio Cellini was indeed gifted by nature with powers of mind such as few possess. His disposition was gentle and affectionate, his temper unvarying and placid, and his considera tion for the feelings of others unbounded.

The beauty and singularity of the scenery amidst which he had been born, and had expanded into manhood, had tinctured his mind with a deep romance, and an enthusiastic love of the sublime and beautiful. He had wandered by moonlight through the glades of the forest and dreamed of fairy revels and goblin haunts; he had climbed the high mountain at mid-day, and gazed on the boundless plains and far-off horizon, where distant lands seemed faintly pourtrayed-he had lain on the river's brink beneath a shading tree, and drunk in the tales of glorious chivalry, till knights in glittering armour and plumed casques the forms of bright and beauteous women, the clang of arms, and the pomp of tournaments had floated