Margaret do you not intend to put some sort of all necessary caution, Arthur, and now a pleasornament on your own head, or something showy ant evening to you, my children; Margaret shall about your dress?" entertain me to-morrow with an account of the party."

"Your dress fits you admirably, my dear," said Mrs. Selden, "and is neatly and tastefully arranged, but it is somewhat too severe in its sim- "Margaret must have the credit of whatever plicity; let me fasten this pink sash around your taste has been displayed in dressing Virginia's waist," she added, selecting a peach-colored rib-head, as she worked most assiduously at it," said bon which lay on the bed amongst various ribbons and laces, "it will give a pretty finish to your dress."

"Margaret has shown her good taste, as well as her good nature," replied Mr. Selden, somewhat conscious that he had entirely overlooked “I rather think that is out of my power, for if her. He then added, “but why did you not do I mistake not the wreath is no longer in her pos- the same kind office for yourself, Margaret, had you not a wreath too?"

to be guilty of such an absurdity; besides, she even a handsome man. There is something about knows that I am with you; so think no more his appearance which indicates elevation of charabout it. Your wreath was well bestowed, was acter, and a very superior degree of intelligence, it not. Virginia!" though I do not trust implicitly to physiognomy, for we are always liable to mistakes in inferences drawn from such grounds."

"Yes, Anne Howard looked very sweet and pretty, and the wreath became her very much, though I had much rather have seen it on Margaret's head."

"You surprise me, Margaret," said Virginia, "I think physiognomy an infallible test of character, and it appears wonderfully strange that you should admire the expression of Mr. Devereux's face, more than that of Augustus Ver

"I never knew until this evening what a very pleasing girl Anne Howard could be; she is generally so modest and shrinking, and I never saw her completely drawn out before. I suppose the non's. Mr. Devereux's appearance is so little consciousness of looking uncommonly pretty in- striking indeed, that I scarcely observed it all. spired her with confidence; such things will have I noticed that his stature was considerably above this effect;-even I forgot my usual modesty, the middle size, and that seemed to me the only when I remembered the unrivalled cut of my circumstance about him likely to attract attencoat, and caught a glimpse in the mirrors of the fine looking fellow clad in that incomparable gar

ment."

"What insufferable vanity," said Margaret, laughing; "how could you think of your own appearance when the star of fashion, the observed of all observers was present?"

What, Augustus Vernon? Oh, he is just such a looking man as ladies admire, bright black eyes. pink cheeks, rosy lips, dark brown ringlets. Why, I should be ashamed to look in the glass and see such a girlish looking face, I should never feel the least respect for myself afterwards."

tion."

"This very circumstance ought to convince you, Virginia, how very little certainty there is in physiognomy. We all see the same persons, and draw different inferences as to their characters from their faces. Yet I do believe, that the dispositions of the heart, the workings of the mind always leave their traces on the countenance, though we wantskill to understand them; it is like decyphering hieroglyphics, when we have scarcely any means of verifying our interpretations, and for even a plausible explanation, must resort to a variety of ingenious conjectures, "Surely, Arthur," said Virginia, with some when perhaps an entirely different set of suppowarmth, "you are not in earnest; it is impossi-sitions may offer an interpretation, apparently ble to look at Mr. Vernon without thinking him equally probable." superlatively handsome. for his is not only the beauty of form and coloring, but of expression." "What does his countenance express?" said Arthur.

"But some persons have an intuitive gift of reading these obscure signs, when written on the human face, and you must not think it vanity, if I say, I think I possess this intuitive gift," said

"It expresses refinement, sensibility, generosi- Virginia. ty, nobleness of character.”

"Take care your intuitive gift does not lead you into some horrible mistakes," said Arthur. "Mr. Vernon is an only child, is he not, Arthur?" asked Margaret.

"Does it? Well, I confess I did not perceive it. He is not in the least to be compared in appearance with Gerald Devereux, and I did not hear a lady in the room remark on his beauty. “No, an only son, which is perhaps worse, as It is scarcely worth while to be handsome, as one he has sisters to assist in spoiling him. His panever finds a girl who has the good taste to ap-rents reside at present in Philadelphia. Mr. preciate manly beauty. Margaret, I appeal to Vernon, his father, is quite an opulent man; he you whether Gerald Devereux is not a much went originally from Virginia, at the invitation finer looking young man than Augustus Vernon?" of a wealthy uncle, who adopted him as his "After just observing that no girl has good taste enough to appreciate manly beauty, you surely ought not to appeal to Margaret on such a question."

"Oh, but Margaret is so little like other girls, that I never include her in my observations on that class of society. She has no young ladyism about her, and I am willing to abide by her decision."

heir, and he sometimes talks of returning to his native state. The Davenports think he will purchase an estate near them, so it is possible we may have the pleasure of gaining the exquisite Mr. Vernon as a neighbor, if he can consent to rusticate in Virginia."

Virginia's cheeks glowed, her heart beat quicker, and she thought, though she did not say, that such an event would form quite a new era in their state of society.

"I must acknowledge," said Margaret, "that I greatly prefer Gerald Devereux's looks, though Gerald Devereux," said Arthur, "was born I do not believe he would generally be considered in Ireland, and though he was brought from his

country, while an infant, by his uncle, Mr. Fitz-| have a way of making me tell you anything, and gerald, you may perceive many national traits tell me nothing in return." about him; I believe they are innate."

66

Not at all, I will answer your question explicitly. I am very sure that Anne Howard is not engaged to Mr. Campbell, and that she has no present intention of marrying him, but she esteems him very highly, and is very grateful to him for the benefits he conferred on her brother. He took unwearied pains, for her sake, to reclaim poor John from his course of dissipation, and in the last months of his life, when he had become an outcast from respectable society, he nursed him during declining health, and treated him

"Or perhaps acquired," said Margaret, "you say his uncle, Mr. Fitzgerald, is an Irishman." "Yes, he is an eminent lawyer, he is now gone to Ireland on business, but is expected to return in the course of a few months. Devereux is not born to opulence, but will have to rely on his own exertions to build up his fortunes. Davenport tells me he greatly distinguished himself at college, and that he has talent enough to enable him to succeed in any pursuit. He studied law two or three years, and commenced with the kindness of a brother. Anne, so far the practice about a year ago. And now, I think I have given you all the information I possess about the two gentlemen, can you tell me, Margaret, whether Anne Howard is actually engaged to that odious fellow, Campbell ?"

"Why is he particularly odious?" said Margaret, smiling.

from being cold-hearted, as you once supposed, suffers from excessive sensibility, and her very quiet manner, is a sort of shield, which she uses instinctively, as a defence against her own weak

ness."

"Yes I can readily believe it, I observed indications of great sensibility in her countenance to-night."

Margaret laughed—“But, Arthur, you must remember that constancy is not your forte, and flirtation with Aune Howard is out of the question; so you must not think of falling in love with her, unless you mean to continue so."

"You do me great injustice, how can you suppose, I would think of flirting with such a girl as Anne Howard. But if you talk with such solemnity of falling in love, and remaining so forever, the very idea will extinguish the spark, before it ever becomes a flame. Here we are at the gate, and Virginia is still composing sonnets to the moon, I suppose, or thinking of that personification of refinement, nobleness and sensibility, which has just alighted on our orb, as I have not heard her speak for an hour."

Virginia was much disconcerted, and said in a somewhat garrulous tone, "How unkind it is in you, Arthur, to be always endeavoring to ridi

cule me."

"You take things too seriously, my dear little sister," replied Arthur, "I only try to extract some amusement from everything within my reach; of course, you must contribute your share."

"But cannot you imagine how one may change an opinion? You are as literal as Virginia tonight." Virginia started at the sound of her name, but relapsed into reverie, as soon as she found she was not addressed. "To tell you the truth, Margaret, my attention was first attracted towards her to-night, by hearing her pronounce a very warm eulogy upon you; she did not know "It is very reasonable," said Margaret, "to that I was near, for she started and blushed when talk of Virginia's silence when you have given she saw me. She spoke in such a warm-hearted, her no chance to speak. But see, how sweet affectionate manner, I began to think I had per- old Sherwood looks beneath a full moon," she haps done her injustice, and for the first time her added, as they drove through an avenue of lefty face struck me as being sweet, and not insipid. tulip trees, whose magnificent masses of foliage I found, too, she could converse quite interest- displayed, with striking effect, the quivering rays ingly, and Charlotte Davenport's excessive spi- of silvery brightness contrasted with the magic rits made the gentleness of Anne Howard more shadows of moonlight.

attractive. But you have not answered my question yet, Margaret, you are very unfair, youl

F......

A PLEA FOR ART.

dullest and dryest of souls, a love to the places where they shed their charms. The places at which the ancient patriarchs and prophets met A delight in beauty is a primitive, natural feel-angels from heaven, were hallowed places to ing in the hearts of the rational dwellers on the them forever afterwards. The places at which earth. This is a truism. There is beauty spread the grand scenes and persons of Hamlet, of by nature over the land, the sea, the sky; therefore Lear, or of Paradise Lost first passed before us, there is also the spirit of Beauty kindled within even in perusal, are not unconsecrated places to the rational race of man, because he is the chief us afterwards. Were there, at this time, in the character in the drama of this life. He is chief older States of this Confederacy, places where spectator and enjoyer, especially of the outward, all comers might gaze at Rembrandts, Correg objective world. It cannot be that such a feel-gios, and Salvator Rosas, on American and Viring, or rather such a law of feeling. so universal, ginian temple-walls,-places at which might be so homogeneous, so like an inward echo to the seen Apollos fresher and nobler (as becomes a outward call, can be a mere acquired, educated, new world) than even the Belvidere; Venuses man-taught mood of the soul. It exists either fairer and brighter, if it may ever be by creation as a necessity of the soul, and so ever co-exis- of man, than even she of the Medici; Madonnas, tent with it: or else, by a touch of the all-cun- | sybils, saints, and prophets of truer and purer ning Hand, one moment after the creating. life- ideal than Roman, Florentine or Lombard; giving touch. This might be shown by addu- domes, columus, gates, grander than those of cing from human life anywhere and everywhere, Italy, because produced by a higher, brighter those little rose-buds of sentiment, offsprings age of the world,-then would such places surethick as Vallambrosa leaves, of the wedlock of ly be hallowed places; the temples, the halls, the the inner and the outer beauty, which at once capitols in which they were to be found would demonstrate the wedlock itself, and its legality be sacred edifices; the imaginations of men would be refreshed and elevated; memory of by and fitness. And this primitive delight in beauty is a prin- gone years would be a more magically checkciple of considerable conservative force in so- ered plain; the restless, roving, emigrating Caliciety. Love-heroic, romantic. tender, tearful.fornian spirit among us would collapse and faithful, idolatrous love-grows out of this prin- speedily die; our life would be bettered. With ciple; and binds the highest and the roughest us the very grave-yards are too unhallowed. minds of both sexes, oftentimes, with a clasp The places where the bones of our fathers lie— which no stale insipid prudence, such as— -Pretty is as pretty does"-can unlock; nor any jeremiads, such as-" Beauty is a fading flower”can elude. Religion, loyal, adoring, loving, zealous, purifying and satisfying faith in Godgrows out of the love of the beautiful. or at least, has some of its strongest roots in that soil; and is the grand conservative clasp of the life of

m an.

and such fathers too as ours, the high, pure old men of other and better days-the places where even they sleep, are but too often seen, especially in the country, as bare and as rude as if the sleepers there had lain down “unwept, unhonoured, and unsung."

In these days of some progress and much brag in education, we hear a good deal about the developement of the man; not the developement A taste for the fine arts is another manifesta- of any one, three, five or seven particular protution of the same principle of our nature. and berances either of cranium or of character; but must be admitted to be, like the other offspring, now we are to have the developement of the eminently conservative, salubrious, positively be- whole man—all bumps, protuberances, faculties neficent in society. Free, thrifty, enterprising and fates. This language, we are aware, is ennations are apt to attach small importance to ployed as the promise of a culture adapted to art, as the unsubstantial and useless tinsel of the conscience as well as the intellect, to the relife. This is the cant of utilitarianism. It may ligious faculties as well as the social and intelbe applied—it has been applied, to all the higher lectual. And it is all excellently well as far as things of mental life which make man more than it goes, and as far as the promise shall be wisely an animal, a sensualist, or a money-changer. and faithfully kept. Conscience. the religious It is as hollow and false as it is ignoble. It is to be hoped that its power is waning in many quarters. It is high time, by the clock which strikes the hours of social weal and progress, that it were waning in all quarters.

The arts are conservative, because they create local attachments; they call out from all but the

principle, is a part of the whole man: and should be thoroughly and soundly educated. But we ask the Professor of Moral Science is the University, the Presidents of William and Mary, of Hampden Sydney, of Washington. and of Randolph Macon Colleges, is not the Love of the Beautiful, the Spirit of the Arts,