mind, as it were, by the hand, and lead it back out of shadow into
sunshine. From the lawn below the window a light bird sprang up into the
air, quivered upon its twinkling wings, uttered a note or two, and then
soared higher, and each moment as it rose up, up, into the sky, the
song, like a spirit heavenward bound, grew stronger and more strong, and
flooded the air with melody.

Emily watched it as it rose, listened to it as it sang. Its upward
flight seemed to carry her spirit above the dark things on which it
brooded; its thrilling voice to waken her to cheerful life again. There
is a high holiness in a lark's song; and hard must be the heart, and
strong and corrupt, that does not raise the voice and join with it in
its praise to God.

When she went down again into the drawing-room, she was quite a
different being, and Mrs. Hazleton marvelled what could have happened so
to change her. Had she been told that it was a lark's song, she would
have laughed the speaker to scorn. She was not one to feel it.

I will not pause upon the journey of the morning, nor describe the
beautiful fall of the river that they visited, or tell how it fell
rushing over the precipice, or how the rocks dashed it into diamond
sparkles, or how rainbows bannered the conflict of the waters, and
boughs waved over the struggling stream like plumes. It was a sweet and
pleasant sight, and full of meditation; and Mrs. Hazleton, judging
perhaps of others by herself, imagined that it would produce in the mind
of Emily those softening influences which teach the heart to yield
readily to the harder things of life.

There is, perhaps, not a more beautiful, nor a more frequently
applicable allegory than that of the famous Amreeta Cup--I know not
whether devised by Southey, or borrowed by him from the rich store of
instructive fable hidden in oriental tradition. It is long, long, since
I read it; but yet every word is remembered whenever I see the different
effect which scenes, circumstances, and events produce upon different
characters. It is shown by the poet that the cup of divine wine gave
life and immortality, and excellence superhuman, and bliss beyond
belief, to the pure heart; but to the dark, earthly, and evil, brought
death, destruction, and despair. We may extend the lesson a little, and
see in the Amreeta wine, the spirit of God pervading all his works, but
producing in those who see and taste an effect, for good or evil,
according to the nat