e of wine tends to promote health, and keeps off the
numerous train of disorders, to which the constitution of man is subject,
thereby lessening the evils incidental to human nature. We can then
exclaim with Virgil of wine,

"Deus ille malis hominum mitescere discat."

S.S.T.

[3] It must be recollected that wild fowl in consequence of
their living on animal diet, give more readily a putrid
disposition to the fluids.

* * * * *

THE SKETCH-BOOK.

* * * * *

MY FIRST LOVE.

_(For the Mirror.)_

She was amiable, accomplished, fascinating, beautiful; yet her's were
beauties which description cannot heighten; fascinations which
language were vain to embellish. There was soul in her deep hazel eye as
its flashes broke through their long, dark, encircling fringe; her jetty
locks waved harmoniously, contrasting with the virgin snow of the
forehead they wreathed in glossy luxuriance, the unclouded smile played
on her lip like the zephyr over a bed of gossamer, or a sunbeam on the
cheek of Aurora.

Scarce eleven summers had passed over my head when I first saw Annette.
She was by about three years my elder. Young, though I was, I was not
insensible; she rivetted my gaze, I felt an emotion I could not
comprehend--cannot describe--as it were love in the germ just beginning
to expand, waiting but for the genial warmth of a few summer suns to
nourish and bring it to maturity. We parted, still her image pursued me,
the recollection was sweet, and I loved to cherish it.

Four years had elapsed; we again met. My soul thrilled with delight in
beholding, in contemplating, her perfections! How was that delight
increased when I saw her countenance shed its loveliest smiles, her eye
pour its heavenliest beams--on _me_--happy presumption--I loved. _We_
loved; but words spoke not our love. No, each read it in the burning
glances that were reciprocated--in the spirit-breathing sighs that would
ever and anon steal forth--spite of suppression. Let me shorten the tale
of rapture. She was mine; Annette was mine--mine undividedly. SHE IS MINE
NO LONGER. Ask not the cause. I was infuriated, befooled, infatuated; my
own "hands threw the pearl away;" my own lips gave, sealed the sentence,
that robbed me for ever, ay, for ever, of a heart--a treasure, it had
been heaven to possess. SHE IS MINE NO LONGER--yet a pleasure it is, a
melancholy pleasu