unfeeling community. He looked at him earnestly, and said: "Be of
good cheer--look forward, sir, to the high destination you may attain.
Remember, the more elevated the mark at which you aim, the more sure,
the more glorious, the more magnificent the prize." From wonder to
wonder, his encouragement led the impatient listener. A stranger nature
bloomed before him--giant streams promised him success--gardens of
hidden treasures opened to his view. All this, so vividly described,
seemed to gain a new witchery from his glowing fancy.

In 1842 he entered the class, and made rapid progress in the English
and Latin departments. Indeed, he continued advancing with such rapidity
that he was like to become the first in his class, and made such
unexpected progress, and was so studious, that he had almost forgotten
the pictured saint of his affections. The fresh wreaths of the pine and
cypress had waited anxiously to drop once more the dews of Heavens upon
the heads of those who had so often poured forth the tender emotions of
their souls under its boughs. He was aware of the pleasure that he had
seen there. So one evening, as he was returning from his reading, he
concluded he would pay a visit to this enchanting spot. Little did he
think of witnessing a shadow of his former happiness, though no doubt
he wished it might be so. He continued sauntering by the roadside,
meditating on the past. The nearer he approached the spot, the more
anxious he became. At the moment a tall female figure flitted across his
path, with a bunch of roses in her hand; her countenance showed uncommon
vivacity, with a resolute spirit; her ivory teeth already appeared as
she smiled beautifully, promenading--while her ringlets of hair dangled
unconsciously around her snowy neck. Nothing was wanting to complete
her beauty. The tinge of the rose was in full bloom upon her cheek; the
charms of sensibility and tenderness were always her associates.. In
Ambulinia's bosom dwelt a noble soul--one that never faded--one that
never was conquered. Her heart yielded to no feeling but the love of
Elfonzo, on whom she gazed with intense delight, and to whom she felt
herself more closely bound, because he sought the hand of no other.
Elfonzo was roused from his apparent reverie. His books no longer were
his inseparable companions--his thoughts arrayed themselves to encourage
him in the field of victory. He endeavored to speak to his supposed
Ambulinia, but his speech appe