ny in Nature.

All this came from Roland; and to this, with thoughtful wisdom, my
father had added enough knowledge from books to make those tastes more
attractive, and to lend to impulsive perception of beauty and goodness
the culture that draws finer essence from beauty, and expands the Good
into the Better by heightening the sight of the survey: hers knowledge
enough to sympathize with intellectual pursuits, not enough to dispute
on man's province,--Opinion. Still, whether in nature or in lore,
still--

"The fairest garden in her looks,
And in her mind the choicest books!"

And yet, thou wise Austin,--and thou, Roland, poet that never wrote a
verse,--yet your work had been incomplete; but then Woman stepped in,
and the mother gave to her she designed for a daughter the last finish
of meek, every-day charities,--the mild household virtues; "the soft
word that turneth away wrath;" the angelic pity for man's rougher
faults; the patience that bideth its time, and, exacting no "rights of
woman," subjugates us, delighted, to the invisible thrall.

Dost thou remember, my Blanche, that soft summer evening when the vows
our eyes had long interchanged stole at last from the lip? Wife mine,
come to my side; look over me while I write: there, thy tears (happy
tears are they not, Blanche?) have blotted the page! Shall we tell the
world more? Right, my Blanche; no words should profane the place where
those tears have fallen!

And here I would fain conclude; but alas and alas! that I cannot
associate with our hopes, on this side the grave, him who, we fondly
hoped (even on the bridal-day that gave his sister to my arms), would
come to the hearth where his place now stood vacant, contented with
glory, and fitted at last for the tranquil happiness which long years of
repentance and trial had deserved.

Within the first year of my marriage, and shortly after a gallant share
in a desperate action which had covered his name with new honors, just
when we were most elated, in the blinded vanity of human pride, came the
fatal news! The brief career was run. He died, as I knew he would have
prayed to die, at the close of a day ever memorable in the annals of
that marvellous empire which valor without parallel has annexed to the
Throne of the Isles. He died in the arms of Victory, and his last smile
met the eyes of the noble chief who, even in that hour, could pause from
the tide of triumph by the victim it had cast on its