distance, that it looks like heaven, Happiness may have taken refuge.
Alas! I cannot pursue her there. I will return to Eden, and learn if
Eve, too, has been unsuccessful."

And then he took one more look at the distant land, sighed his adieu,
and set out on his return.

Poor Eve! First child of misery, first daughter of despair! Poor Eve,
with the blue of heaven in her eye, and the crimson of shame upon her
lip! Poor Eve, arrayed in beauty, but hastening to decay--she, too, was
unsuccessful.

Wandering in her westward way, the azure waters of the Mediterranean
soon gleamed upon her sight. She stood at length upon the pebbly shore,
and the glad waves, silent as death before, when they kissed her naked
feet, commenced that song still heard in their eternal roar. A mermaid
seemed to rise from the waters at her feet, and to imitate her every
motion. Her long dark tresses, her deep blue eyes, her rosy cheek, her
sorrowful look, all were reflected in the mermaid before her.

"Sweet spirit," said Eve, "canst thou inform me where the nymph
Happiness lies concealed? She always stood beside us in the garden of
Eden; but when we were driven from Paradise we beheld her no more."

The lips of the mermaid moved, but Eve could hear no reply.

Ah! mother of mankind, the crystal waters of every sea, reflecting thy
lovely image, still faithful to their trust, conceal a mermaid in their
bosom for every daughter of beauty who looks upon them!

Neither the orange groves of the Arno, nor the vineyards of France;
neither the forests of Germania, nor the caves of Norway, concealed the
sought-for nymph. Eve explored them all. Her track was imprinted in the
sands of Sahara, by the banks of the Niger, on the rocks of Bengola, in
the vales of Abyssinia--but all in vain.

"O Happiness! art thou indeed departed from our earth? How can we live
without thee? Come, Death," cried Eve; "come now, and take me where thou
wilt. This world is a desert, for Happiness has left it desolate."

A gentle slumber soon overcame the wearied child of sorrow, and in her
sleep a vision came to comfort her. She dreamed that she stood before an
aged man, whose hoary locks attested that the snows of many winters had
whitened them, and in whose glance she recognized the spirit of Wisdom.

"Aged Father," said Eve, "where is Happiness?" and then she burst into a
flood of tears.

"Comfort thyself, Daughter," mildly answered the old man; "Happiness yet
dwells on ea