subdued by their politeness. When they perceive her talking and acting just as if all were at peace within, they withdrew from their annoying observation of her with an air of disappointment very ill concealed. Nothing can be better than her conduct now. And the occasion is

trying. The inquiries after Hartleythe congratulations on the approaching event—the bustle pervading the mansion, so naturally attendant on the marriage of its heir- the extravagant flatteries on the bride-elect-for, to such an audience, praise is of course the etiquette observed all must vibrate a chord in her heart, that can produce none but tones of deep melancholyif, indeed, she feels. This is a question to be decided.

18th. My acquaintance with Camilla will soon ripen into intimacy. My host and hostess, occupied by the all-engross

ing event which has brought me here, have consigned the stranger to her care. She accepted the charge, with the alacrity of a person glad to be obliged to occupation. Her figure is very good,

more

than ordinarily graceful. This does not come under Hartley Aubertin's definition of plainness. She has one accomplishment in perfection, and it is precisely that which stands highest on the scale of accomplishments, - she converses admirably. And not only has she that flowing eloquence which sometimes exists apart from high intellectual endowments; but she evinces sound judgment, exquisite taste, originality of views, andmore than all-brilliant genius chastened by the accuracy of reason. Her acquirements step beyond the sphere of ordinary female pursuits. I never enjoyed in greater perfection, that exhi laration of feeling, which results from communion with a mind capable of admitting the vastest ideas presented to it,

and of appreciating those "scintillations of spirit," which so many suffer to flash and die unheeded. - How could this woman love Hartley Aubertin ? —

19th. Camilla usurps the station my Journal has hitherto occupied. It is incalculably more delightful to communicate to her feelings as they arise, than to trace them here. It is something to be able to write of her. Here my mind can register the impressions it receives from herself.

To-day has been marked by an important event. Hartley Aubertin was married this morning. I was introduced to his bride yesterday.- She is beautiful—has a glorious complexion — features rosy bright eyes-correct

lips -and all the component parts of beauty. But whether I remembered Camilla as having suffered through her,

and thus was inclined to be unjust, I

know not;

her countenance displeased

me. It was intellectual enough for the wife of Aubertin, but the quick glances of her bright blue eye seemed covetous of admiration and conquest.

The ceremony was performed at the little village church. There is an inconceivable charm in the unadorned simplicity of these village temples dedicated to the living God. A sweet and solemn serenity brooded in the stillness around. No words passed but those pronounced by the clergyman,- a grave and reverend man, -and the vows of the young bridegroom, something more audible than the whispers of his bride. This binding of two souls in an eternal union is inexpressibly awful and affecting. It plunges the mind far into the future, and raises in some sort the veil of the immortal sanctuary; where, although there is neither "marrying nor giving in marriage," the soul may, without im

piety, indulge in a dream of spiritual union, with the being to whom it clings most fondly here.

The manner of the young pair who stood before that altar, was all that interrupted the holiness of the scene. And there was nothing decidedly culpable in their conduct; there was grace and decorum in each, but it was a grace and decorum so evidently of this world, as to check the deep thoughts of the soul, and to draw it from the sacred retirement in which it would gladly have indulged. They were married, and they thought they had a right to look full of happiness and gaiety. They had no conception, that the most blissful and the loftiest feelings of our nature, gather their loveliness from the gentle melancholy that is indivisible from them. This is one of the deep mysteries of our being hidden from such as they. They will float down the tide of time gaily and lightly, and they will find plenty of