Still onward, as to southern skies,
We spread our sails, new stars arise,
New lights upon the glancing tide,
Fresh hues where pearl and coral hide:
What are they all but tokens true
Of grace for ever fresh and new!
Prayers for Emigrants.


There are some days in the early year, devoid indeed of spring
brilliance, but full of soft, heavy, steaming fragrance, pervading
the grey air with sweet odours, and fostering the growth of tender
bud and fragile stem with an unseen influence, more mild and kindly
than even the smiling sunbeam or the gushing shower. 'A growing
day,' as the country-people term such genial, gentle weather, might
not be without analogy to the brief betrothal of Louis and Mary.

Subdued and anxious, there had been little of the ordinary light of
joy, hope, or gaiety, and their pleasures had been less their own
than in preparing the happiness of their two friends. It was a time
such as to be more sweet in memory than it was in the present; and
the shade which had hung over it, the self-restraint and the
forbearance which it had elicited, had unconsciously conduced to the
development of the characters of both, preparing them to endure the
parting far more effectually than unmixed enjoyment could have done.
The check upon Louis's love of trifling, the restraint on his
spirits, the being thrown back on his own judgment when he wanted to
lean upon Mary, had given him a habit of controlling his boyish ways.