ms most completely, any body that
visits Calcutta can satisfy himself of the correctness of this fact, and
yet they tolerate no sort of confinement whatever about the person.

Isabella's face was of an oval form, with an exquisitely delicate and
fair complexion; when her features were at rest, the expression was
quiet and serious, rather bordering upon the pensive, a cast of
countenance that she inherited from her mother; but her smile was
exceedingly attractive, with an air of frankness and innocence
attending it, that made it perfectly fascinating. Her eyes were of a
deep blue, that, in conversation or when any emotion agitated the
tranquillity of their owner, were extremely lively, animated, and
sparkling. Her eyebrows were very delicately traced, slightly curved but
not arched, as poets and others rave about--I never saw a pair that
were, on forehead male or female, except among the Chinese, and _they_,
in consequence, looked like--no matter who--nor can I imagine how arched
brows can be beautiful.

It was not the fashion, forty years since, for girls to cut off their
hair and sell it to a barber for fifty cents, and then give ten dollars
for a set of artificial curls, nor was it fashionable in Mexico to wear
false hair; if it had been, nature had been so bountiful to Isabella in
that beautiful ornament and pride (it ought to be) of a woman, that she
could save the expense by the arrangement of her own luxuriant tresses.

Her temper was mild, and by no means easily ruffled; her disposition was
gentle, humane, amiable, and cheerful, though seldom or never breaking
out into extravagant gaiety. Like all young ladies of her age, who have
much unemployed time on their hands, and I believe the same remark will
apply to young men similarly situated, she had experienced a void, a
want of something in the heart, that she felt acutely enough, but could
neither describe nor account for; that peculiar feeling that certainly
is not love, but a symptom of the wish to love and be beloved; it is
that state of the heart when the affections go forth, like Noah's dove,
and finding no object on which to repose, return weary and dejected to
their lonely prison.

It is an old adage, that "when the devil finds a man idle, he sets him
to work;" when love finds a heart unoccupied, he soon finds it a tenant,
for it always has been, is now, and always will be true, that

"Love is a fire that burns and sparkles,
In men as nat'rall