some indication on her part, which might seem to invite a conversation. I have forgotten to say that Eloise would not have a light near her, for which she had good reason. Pictures of the imagination are never so vivid as in the most profound obscurity. Thus Volange, without being perceived, awaited a favorable moment. He heard Eloise sigh, and seek repose with inquietude. "Come, happy slumbers," said she, "for your enchantments alone make life tolerable." "It is I," said Volange, in a voice so soft that Eloise could scarcely hear it; "it is I who should call sleep, as my happiness exists in that alone; it is in the bosom of sleep alone that I am with you." He had scarcely time to utter these words. Eloise gave a piercing shriek, and Volange having disappeared, Justine ran in at the call of her mistress. "What is the matter, madam ?" said she. "Ah, I am dying, I have heard him. Recall me to life again if you can; I am loved! I am happy! hurry, I cannot breathe." Justine busied herself in loosening her dress; she made her breathe aromatic salts to revive her, and playing the part of incredulity, she reproached her mistress for giving way to ideas which troubled her repose, and injured her health. "You treat me like an infant-a fool," said Eloise. "It is no longer a dream-nothing is more true I heard him as plainly as I do you." "Well, madam, I do not wish to make you angry, but try to calm your spirits: to please a sylph, one must be beautiful, and if you do not sleep you will soon lose your good looks." "Are you going, Justine? How cruel you are! Do you not perceive that I am trembling all over? Wait, at least, until I sleep, if it is possible to sleep in such emotion." After a while her beautiful eyes grew heavy, and it was resolved between Justine and Volange, that, frightened by the cry which Eloise had made, the sylph should wait until he was asked for the next night. Eloise began to fear that he would come no more. "My cries have frightened him away," said she. "What, madam," said Justine, "is a spirit so timid? believe me, he only waits until the fright which he has caused you is over. Rest easy; he knows what passes in your heart, as well as yourself, and perhaps at this moment he is there listening to you." "What do you say? He is there-how you startle me!" "What! do you not know that your sylph reads your soul? Surely, there is nothing passes there, but should flatter him." "But we always mix something of the man with our idea of sylphs, shame-" "Shame, it appears to me, is misplaced with a spirit. Where would be the harm, for example, of inviting him to come this evening?" "Oh! it is useless for me to dissimulate. He knows I wish for his presence." "Yes, and if he is gallant he will come." "He will, surely, if he understands me,” said Eloise. "He understands you," replied Volange in a soft voice; "but send away this witness, who distresses me." "Justine," said Eloise, trembling, "go away." "What is the matter, madam? you seem moved." "It is nothing; leave me, I tell you—it is nothing." Justine obeyed, and when they were alone, the sylph asked, 'Why does my voice frighten you? no one fears that which they love." "Alas!" said she, "can I behold without trouble the realization of my dreams, and by an inconceivable prodigy the illusion become reality? Can I believe that a celestial spirit would quit heaven for my sake, and become familiar with a simple mortal?" "If you knew," answered Volange, "how much your charms surpass all the nymphs of the air, you would be little flattered by your victory. Nevertheless, it is not to vanity that I wish to owe the price of my love. That love is as pure and unalterable as my own essence; but it is also as delicate. We have only the sensibility of the soul left us. You have this also, Eloise; but to taste its delights it is necessary that I should preserve that soul, of which I am so jealous. You may amuse yourself with whatever is interesting or amiable in the world, but you can love nothing so much as myself." "Alas!" said she, "it is easy enough for me to obey you; the world has no attractions for "Learn," said Volange, "that which distinguishes us from all other spirits of the universe, and more particularly from the human race. A sylph never enjoys happiness alone he is only happy in what he loves. Nature has interdicted all mere selfish emotions, but she has also bestowed more perfect sympathies; therefore, while we enjoy all the happiness we awaken in the object of our choice, we likewise partake in the same degree of her sorrows. Destiny has left me the choice of this other half of myself, upon whom all my joys must depend; but the selection once made, we have between us but one soul, and it is only in contributing to your happiness that I can secure my own." "Oh! let it be thus," she exclaimed in transport, "for even the thought of so pure and sweet a union fills me with ecstasy. How much more delightful such intercourse than that to which we are compelled to submit with common mortals, who make us their slaves, for you know, alas! that the chains of marriage have been imposed upon me." "I know it," said Volange, "and one of my chief cares will be to render them light." "Ah!" replied she, "do not make yourself uneasy; my husband is one of those men who has least of the vices of his sex; but then they are all so opinionated, so proud of their advantages, so indulgent to their own faults, and so severe upon ours." "Would you believe it!" exclaimed the sylph-"all that you lay to the charge of men, we have occasion likewise to reproach the sylphides with. Mild, insinuating, full of fascinations, there is no art which they do not employ to gain the ascendency over us spirits; but once assured of their rule, and a capricious and absolute will, a haughty pride, to which everything must submit, takes the place of their former timidity, mildness, and complaisance; and it is only after they have gained one's love, that they appear worthy only to be hated! But let these things be as they may, my dear Eloise, we shall be strangers to the unhappiness of both worlds, if you but love me, as I do you. And now adieu! my duty compels me to quit you: Heaven has confided the star of your destiny to my care, and I go to guide its course, that it may shed upon you only bright and favorable influences!" "What! will you leave me so soon?" "Yes, to return to-morrow at the same hour." "Then adieu-but, stop, one word. May I have a confidant?” "You already have one in Justine, who loves you sincerely, and who for that reason is also dear to me." "One moment more-tell me by what name you are known." Justine was duly instructed of all which passed, and had no occasion to repeat anything to Volange. She only informed him that he had left his wife in a perfect state of enchantment. That is not enough," said he. "I wish that in the absence of the sylph everything should recall his love. You read her soul, and know all her tastes; tell me what she most desires, and the sylph will appear to divine her wishes." That evening Eloise, to be free from all distraction, went with Justine to promenade in one of those magnificent gardens which ornament Paris; and although her mind was preoccupied with her sylph lover, yet the natural penchant of her sex, so readily attracted by novelty, drew her attention to the elegant dress of a strange lady who promenaded near them. "Ah! what a lovely robe!" she exclaimed. Justine pretended not to hear her but the adroit femme de chambre, having witnessed her admiration, had really conceived an idea, which on their return home she hastened to communicate to Volange, describing to him minutely the dress Eloise had been so enraptured with. [To be concluded next month.] MORAL ESSAYS. BY URIAH H. JUDAH. No. I. THE BEAUTIFUL. 'Tis beautiful to cast over the foibles of thy brother worm the broad and divine mantle of Mercy, and to forgive thy erring sister, as thou LIST, reader, list; and I will tell what is wouldst that Heaven may be merciful to thee, beautiful: A good man struggling with misfortune, and preserving untainted his reputation. A dutiful child obeying the mandates of parents, and walking in the ways of righte ousness. Sinful mortality on bended knees, craving from on High a pardon for past transgressions:-Great God! "forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." Men, like Clay and Webster, striving to cement still stronger and more indissoluble the bonds of unity, so as to transmit to posterity, pure and uncontaminated, Heaven and Washington's boon of liberty. Mortality relieving the wants of mortality, by advancing the cause of the destitute :— For 'tis beautiful to roam amid the forsaken haunts of despair, to still the groans of sorrow, and spread bread on the empty tables of the famishing. And 'tis beautiful to rescue the fallen, to make glad the overcharged heart of the oppressed, and "Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Rase out the written troubles of the brain; Beautiful is woman around the fevered bed of sickness, pillowing the pale cheek, bathing and binding up the fainting brow, and like a form of light, whispering "Hope" where else there had been none : "Until the hour when death His lamp of life doth dim, She never wearieth, She never leaveth him; Still near him night and day, She meets his eye alway." a sinner. God has given us a beautiful world as a transitory abode, and the rivers, the streams, the mounts, the fields, the flowers, the trees, the air, the birds, the fish, and all around created man are beautiful, superbly beautiful. Even man himself is beautiful, when he diswhen he has "a tear for pity, and a hand open plays the noblest qualities of his natureas day to melting charity." The sun is beautiful as he ascends the sparkling sky; and alike beautiful the moon, as she o'er the heads of all. reflects her brilliant, her soft and mellow rays, And thou, oh! High and Holy One, ay!thou, Most Adorable-art the summit of all beauty, inasmuch as, Beautiful is thy Realm! Beautiful thy promise to man! evening and the morning song of that holy The angels of Paradise are beautiful; the band is beautiful; the spirit's ascent to heaven is beautiful; the crumbling of its clay tenement to its mother earth is a beautiful decree of Providence; the soul in its purified condition is beautiful! beautiful! beautiful! And beautiful-superlatively beautiful-and most melodious-ay!-grandly, sublimely beautiful, will be the loud and cheering sound of the "Archangel's trump "-that herald of events and harbinger of joy-to those who on that final morn shall have awarded to them eternal life and eternal bliss: If God hath made this world so fair, No. II. OUR HEAVENLY FATHER. "O what a root! O what a branch is here! O what a father! what a family! Worlds! systems! and creations!-and creations, Great Vine on Thee: on Thee the cluster hangs; In glowing globes, with various beings fraught; Our Heavenly Father!-ay! ay!-He made the glorious orb of day to illumine our pathway to the silent halls of death, and causeth the brilliant stars of night to reflect their matchless rays o'er the heads of all. Our Heavenly Father! He keeps vigil round our midnight slumbers, and permits us to awake to a joyful morrow, while tens of thousands are suffering for their "daily bread." 'Tis He who formed that grand arch over us, and created man-even fragile man-in his own blessed, glorious image. He permitteth the lily to bloom, and kindly waters, with the gentle dews of heaven, the rose just budding into bloom-ay! and increases the perfume of the violet. "Father," dear Father, thou art better than the best, greater than the greatest, higher than the highest, mightier than the mightiest, kinder than the kindest, and nobler than the noblest. Thou art above all, and hence, over all; for thou canst shake the earth from its foundation, and wrap up as a scroll the sun, and the moon, and the stars : O all-sufficient, all-beneficent, Thou God of Goodness and of Glory, hear! Thou God of Goodness and of Glory, hear! No. III. THE TRIAL OF ABRAHAM'S FAITH. "And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his ass, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son, and clave the wood for the burnt And for the righteous he has set apart his Realm, that he might award to those who obey offering, and rose up, and went unto the place of which his mandates, eternal life. "Our Father who art in heaven" raised up for us a Washington in our eventful struggles for liberty, and gave to Columbia-oh! thricehailed clime of unexampled prosperity-a grand, an enviable name, among the nations of the earth. God had told him." IF ever there was a peculiar crisis in the career of Abraham, or a critical moment fraught with anxiety, it was at that trying period, when, in accordance with the Divine pleasure and command, he was about to make a sacrifice of all his heart held dear, on the altar Well! glory to God in the highest! for his of obedience and devotion, inspired by feelgoodness, his mercy, his fatherly care, his ever-ings of inward love and innate gratitude to enduring love. Jehovah, the Father of all. Ay! He hears the cries of the sorrowful, and quickly pours balm on the bleeding wounds of the heart. With steps solemn and slow, the aged parent proceeded onward to Moriah, when the sweetly mild and harmonious accents of his darling And our Father" sends food to the hungry, child aroused him from the lethargy in which and opens the waters to the thirsty. Then glorify His great name, and praise the mighty works of Him, the Omnipotent, the Omnipresent, the Good, the Glorious, the Eternal, who, out of nothing, was pleased to create this beautiful, this thriving, this gigantic, this extended world, and people it with countless billions of beings. He preserves the birds of the air in their ascent and descent, and He shields from harm the beasts of the field. he had sunk:-"Behold, my father, the fire and wood, but where is the lamb for a burntoffering?" 'My son," said Abraham, "God will provide himself with a lamb," and the two walked placidly and lovingly onward in silence. And when they came to the place desig nated as that of sacrifice, the earthly father, with resignation to the will of "our Father who art in heaven," bound his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood, and grasped in his right hand the knife, and looked upward to that realm of eternal bliss where sitteth the King whose Throne is everlasting. The silent tear in the eye of the father and of the son, pierced the clouds, and ascended to the Throne of the Most High and Mighty, and the angel of the Lord called to Abraham out of heaven,“ Abraham, lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou anything unto him." | And all that thou requirest of thy children, great God, is a contrite spirit and a willing heart, that unto thee and to thy immortal name may be rendered the tribute that is due. No sacrifice, however great, can adequately atone for the illimitable transgressions of evererring, of wicked mortality. By the glimmering light of day, amid the tumult of the busy populace, as well as in the silence of solitude, when all nature is tranquil and slumbering, and noiseless, we should commune with our thoughts, that we may silently and secretly pour out in quiet, yet free strains of gratitude and of love unbounded, our unadulterated thanks for his marked goodness, unceasing care, and tender mercies to us, the fragile and erring mortals of his creative will- "Ye whom the charms of grandeur please, Fall prostrate at His throne: Ye princes, rulers, all adore; Praise Him, ye kings, who makes your power An image of His own. "Ye fair, by nature formed to move, O praise th' eternal Source of Love, With youth's enliv'ning fire: Let age take up the tuneful lay, Sigh His blessed name-then soar away, And ask an angel's lyre." No. IV. DEATH OF AN INFANT. Death found strange beauty on that cherub brow, MRS. SIGOURNEY. I HAVE seen an ancient and very beautiful painting admirably representing an Angel car rying a child to Paradise. She has burst the tomb of innocence and loveliness, taken as her own the little inmate in its coffin habiliments, and pointing upward in triumphant hope, bears it off gently and affectionately to that glorious land of unceasing bliss, beyond the restricted confines of the "narrow house." What a beautiful and animated subject for the talents of the artist, and what a splendid and instructive theme for the genius of the poet! In the stillness and calmness of the midnight hour-amid the silence of solitudewhen the eyes of mortality were closed, and even nature was slumbering at her post like a tired sentinel-ay! at such a time, descended from on high, with noiseless wings, doubtless at the mandate of Him who never draws around his couch the curtain of repose, one clad in celestial robes, to claim another angel for the skies. List, oh list, dear reader, to the sweet strains of harmony of that angelic song, as it sent its echo to the ears of a slumbering world: "On our dim and distant shore We have loved with earth's excess- We have wept, that weep not now Calm is each one's throbbing brow! And how wise and beautiful is that ordinance of Providence, which has given immortality to the frail beings of his creative will. Death, when he whispers into the ear of mortality-"Now, even now, thy career on earth is ended," consigns the casket to the silent halls until the final trump be sounded; but the jewel -the vital spark-lives on and on, in pristine purity, and sparkles with renovated brilliancy until time shall be no more. The truthful quotation, "Of such is the kingdom of heaven," has often and often elicited my attention, and commanded my admiration, as ever and anon I have wandered by the tomb of childhood, amid the city of the dead. Oh! how appropriate to the harmless life of the little slumberer below, and how consoling to the feelings of parents who have weeped at the early death of their darling babe! Ye know not what ye do, That call the slumberer back, Unto life's dim, faded track. Ay! that spirit-land of bliss must be thickly |