ned, and
was folded to the heart of the Jew. The blessing of the Hebrew was
breathed in the ear of the Englishman, and Stanley disappeared.

Oh, love! thou fairest, brightest, most imperishable type of heaven!
what to thee are earth's distinctions? Alone in thy pure essence thou
standest, and every mere earthly feeling crouches at thy feet. And art
thou but this world's blessing? Oh! they have never loved who thus
believe. Love is the voice of God, Love is the rule of Heaven! As one
grain to the uncounted sands, as one drop to the unfathomed depths--is
the love of earth to that of heaven; but when the mortal shrine is
shivered, the minute particle will re-unite itself with its kindred
essence, to exist unshadowed and for ever.

CHAPTER XXXV.

"Why then a final note prolong,
Or lengthen out a closing song,
Unless to bid the gentles speed
Who long have listened to my rede?"

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

The fickle sun of "merrie England" shone forth in unusual splendor;
and, as if resolved to bless the august ceremony on which it gazed,
permitted not a cloud to shadow the lustrous beams, which, darted
their floods of light through the gorgeous casements of Westminster
Abbey, in whose sacred precincts was then celebrating the bridal of
the young heir of England, with a fair and gentle daughter of Spain.
It was a scene to interest the coldest heart--not for the state and
splendor of the accoutrements, nor the high rank of the parties
principally concerned, nor for the many renowned characters of church,
state, and chivalry there assembled; it was the extreme youth and
touching expression, impressed on the features, of both bride and
bridegroom.

Neither Arthur, Prince of Wales, nor Catherine, Infanta of Arragon,
had yet numbered eighteen years, the first fresh season of joyous
life; but on neither countenance could be traced the hilarity and
thoughtlessness, natural to their age. The fair, transparent brow of
the young Prince, under which the blue veins could be clearly seen,
till lost beneath the rich chesnut curls, that parted on his brow,
fell loosely on either shoulder; the large and deep blue eye, which
was ever half concealed beneath the long, dark lash, as if some untold
languor caused the eyelid to droop so heavily; the delicate pink of
his downless cheek, the brilliant hue on his lips, even his peculiar
smile, all seemed to whisper the coming ill, that one so dear to
Englishmen would not linger wi