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"The hour arrived—years having rolled away
When his return the Gods no more delay.
Lo! Ithaca the Fates award; and there
New trials meet the Wanderer."
HOMER: Od. lib. i, 16.
THERE is continual spring and harvest here—
Continual, both meeting at one time;
For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear,
And with fresh colours deck the wanton prime;
And eke at once the heavy trees they climb,
Which seem to labour under their fruit's load.
SPENSER: The Garden of Adonis.
Vis boni
In ipsa inesset forma.*—TERENCE.
* "Even in beauty there exists the power of virtue."
BEAUTY, thou art twice blessed; thou blessest the gazer and thepossessor; often at once the effect and the cause of goodness! A sweetdisposition, a lovely soul, an affectionate nature, will speak in theeyes, the lips, the brow, and become the cause of beauty. On the otherhand, they who have a gift that commands love, a key that opens allhearts, are ordinarily inclined to look with happy eyes upon theworld,—to be cheerful and serene, to hope and to confide. There is morewisdom than the vulgar dream of in our admiration of a fair face.
Evelyn Cameron was beautiful,—a beauty that came from the heart, andwent to the heart; a beauty, the very spirit of which was love! Lovesmiled on her dimpled lips, it reposed on her open brow, it played in theprofuse and careless ringlets of darkest yet sunniest auburn, which abreeze could lift from her delicate and virgin cheek; Love, in all itstenderness, in all its kindness, its unsuspecting truth,—Love colouredevery thought, murmured in her low melodious voice, in all its symmetryand glorious womanhood. Love swelled the swan-like neck, and moulded therounded limb.
She was just the kind of person that takes the judgment by storm: whethergay or grave, there was so charming and irresistible a grace about her.She seemed born, not only to captivate the giddy, but to turn the headsof the sage. Roxalana was nothing to her. How, in the obscure hamlet ofBrook-Green, she had learned all the arts of pleasing it is impossible tosay. In her arch smile, the pretty toss of her head, the half shyness,half freedom, of her winning ways, it was as if Nature had made her todelight one heart, and torment all others.
Without being learned, the mind of Evelyn was cultivated and wellinformed. Her heart, perhaps, helped to instruct her understanding; forby a kind of intuition she could appreciate all that was beautiful andelevated. Her unvitiated and guileless taste had a logic of its own: noschoolman had ever a quicker penetration into truth, no critic ever morereadily detected the meretricious and the false. The book that Evelyncould admire was sure to be stamped with the impress of the noble, thelovely, or the true!
But Evelyn had faults,—the faults of her age; or, rather, she hadtendencies that might conduce to error. She was of so generous a naturethat the very thought of sacrificing her self for another had a charm.She ever acted from impulse,—impulses pure and good, but often rash andimprudent. She was yielding to weakness, persuaded into a