olden showed the vegetation of
life, bedded among the dark verdure of the hedge-rows, and "the merrie
woods!" The evening was serene and lulled; at a distance arose the
spires and chimneys of the town, but no sound from the busy hum of men
reached the ear. Nothing perhaps gives a more entire idea of stillness
than the sight of those abodes where "noise dwelleth," but where you
cannot now hear even its murmurs. The stillness of a city is far more
impressive than that of Nature; for the mind instantly compares the
present silence with the wonted uproar. The harvest-moon rose slowly
from a copse of gloomy firs, and diffused its own unspeakable magic into
the hush and transparency of the night. As Walter walked slowly on, the
sound of voices from some rustic party going homeward, broke jocundly on
the silence, and when he paused for a moment at the stile, from which
he first caught a glimpse of Lester's house, he saw, winding along the
green hedgerow, some village pair, the "lover and the maid," who
could meet only at such hours, and to whom such hours were therefore
especially dear. It was altogether a scene of pure and true pastoral
character, and there was all around a semblance of tranquillity, of
happiness, which suits with the poetical and the scriptural paintings
of a pastoral life; and which perhaps, in a new and fertile country,
may still find a realization. From this scene, from these thoughts, the
young loiterer turned with a sigh towards the solitary house in which
this night could awaken none but the most anxious feelings, and that
moon could beam only on the most troubled hearts.

"Terra salutiferas herbas, eademque nocentes
Nutrit; et urticae proxima saepe rosa est."

He now walked more quickly on, as if stung by his reflections, and
avoiding the path which led to the front of the house, gained a little
garden at the rear, and opening a gate that admitted to a narrow
and shaded walk, over which the linden and nut trees made a sort of
continuous and natural arbour, the moon, piercing at broken intervals
through the boughs, rested on the form of Ellinor Lester.

"This is most kind, most like my own sweet cousin," said Walter
approaching; "I cannot say how fearful I was, lest you should not meet
me after all."

"Indeed, Walter," replied Ellinor, "I found some difficulty in
concealing your note, which was given me in Madeline's presence; and
still more, in stealing out unobserved by her, for she