fixed her large, melancholy eyes on his face for a moment, with the look of one predestined to sorrow, and then let the lids drop, and the long, double-fringed lashes rest on her cheeks, with an expression of quiet resignation beautiful and affecting to witness in one so young. But her lover noted neither the look or action which followed it; his impatient, enthusiastic spirit was far away.

A month after this occurrence he left home on foreign service, and, immediately on landing at his place of destination, was attacked by a malignant fever, which carried him off in a few days. His patient Emily had struggled with a true woman's fortitude to bear up against the anguish of his departure, for she trusted ere long to see him again, and to become his happy bride. When she heard of his sudden, fearful death, it seemed to her family that she felt it but slightly. Alas! how little is guessed of woman's heroism! It withered her very heart and drank her warm blood. But Emily would sooner have died than have afflicted her aged

server.

parents, whose only stay she was, by giving vent to her agony. And so she lives on, and smiles, and pursues her usual routine, and though a close observer may perceive that her formerly round figure has somewhat lost its beautiful proportions, that her lips are paler, and her eye dimmer, than of yore, still she is scarce perceptibly altered to a common obThus will years roll on, and the patient, heavenly-minded Emily will become what is denominated "an old maid," and perhaps will meet with many of the rubs and slights peculiar to that sisterhood. But pause, ye unthinking ones, who are yourselves in the flush and insolence of youth and prosperity! Pause ere you add, by your thoughtless levity, more bitters to the cup such a being is constrained to drink. True, she cannot contribute to your amusement, she has nothing to attract you, her blighted heart makes her an unfitting companion in your selfish pleasures: yet, at least, let respect and gentle kindness mark your manner towards her, for are not her

claims immense on your sympathy? She has suffered in silence! Your own day may come, the terrible day of desolation, and then ask your gay flatterers and dear friends for sympathy!

Teresa's mind was tranquil, but there were times when the desire for human sympathy was strong within her. Then would her father's image rise up before her, and the recollection of his intellectual society haunt her tenaciously. "Ah! my lost-my beloved father," she would then exclaim, "how does, my heart yearn towards your memory! How precious is the

remembrance of that unrestrained communion which I have held with you alone of all I ever knew when I have felt the joy of sympathy in all its force and purity, and have poured out my soul to you, and found myself understood, and all my sentiments reciprocated! Ah! my only, my sainted friend, all here below are cold and unkind to me! I mourn to think that fate has so utterly severed us, and that our reunion is so far-far off; but

still, dear father, we are one in spirit, and may my Heavenly Father guide his poor, sorrowing child through this "wild wilderness of sorrow," to that bright place you inhabit. I feel sometimes, in agony of soul, when the world has wounded and stung me, that death is indeed gain, and then, father, we shall part no more." Thus, when Teresa wished to cheer her heart, and fill it with pleasing images, she invariably looked beyond this world, and pictured to herself the bliss of a future state.

If to be in the presence of those we love, though even we should not speak to them, and they should scorn us, be a painful happiness; what will it be to live for ever and ever with them on the most delightful terms, adoring one Saviour, with one theme of praise, no regrets, no partings, no cold looks, no languor or pain? Oh! it is very wonderful, very mysterious what may be in store for us; yet still more mysterious is the love we bear to this nether world. How strangely we cling to it, though it stings and repulses and treats us so cruelly! How very

difficult it is to soar above it, and picture to ourselves heaven. Even when we do succeed in fixing our thoughts on eternity, our earthly natures portray a paradise far better suited to our own poor narrow conceptions, than worthy of an all-powerful benefactor. To those who are sufferers, absence of grief would constitute a heaven, but their wounded hearts will be comforted with exceeding comforts, and such transcendent happiness will be bestowed on them, that their past afflictions shall seem to them not half sufficient to have prepared them for such an eternity.

These beautiful thoughts and imaginings left the stamp of angelic peace on Teresa's countenance. Her calm brow and holy eyes were soothing to contemplate, and the tempered melancholy of her exquisite smile thrilled through the most indifferent heart. She received her husband's friends with grace and sweetness; she bent her superior mind to a level with their puny intellects, and exerted herself to amuse them and to appear truly interested in their concerns.