and become greatly dependent upon it, bunals. Moreover, I am persuaded, conwithout serious harm to either sex; but trary to the judgment of many earnest in the day of moral forces it is quite advocates of equal suffrage, that women otherwise. This day has come upon are quite as much responsible for the us, however, so silently, so gradually, present condition of affairs as men, and that we ourselves have scarcely recog- that they, as a body, will be the last to nized that we are now near its noon- be convinced of their duty in the mattide: how then can our fathers, broth- ter of good citizenship; so I am seri. ers, and husbands be expected to feel its ously anxious to make converts to my quickening glow and inspiration? It faith from the young mothers, rather may seem to them a consuming heat, than from any other class. I know, of though to me it is delicious warmth, course, that the power of regulating pure air, God's own blue sky, and His suffrage now lies wholly with men; that benignant smile over all.

not a single vote can be given, save by But I must stop here and wait your them; but I know as well that the reply, since on your acceptance of my minds of all honest, earnest thinkers views thus far stated will depend the among them are turned to this subject, courage and enthusiasm with which I and that they are inclined to give it an shall proceed to develop further my impartial hearing; and I am convinced thought on the whole matter of the that the indifference, not to say opporelation of the sexes to each other and sition, of their wives, mothers, and sisto government. I confess that I have a ters, stands in the way of their coming philosophy of the past and a hope for to a right solution of the problem be the future that gives me much peace of fore them, beyond anything or all things mind and satisfaction amid the perplex- else. ing and sometimes rampant discussions I beg you, therefore, to give my arwhich fill the land, and it would give gument so far a candid consideration, me great pleasure to try my theories and let me hear from you in reply. first upon you, before committing my- I am always your affectionate self to their defence before other tri


I F .

Strong little monosyllable between

Desire and joy, between the hand and heart
Of all our longing; dreary death's-head seen

Ere our quick lips to touch the nectar part !
O giant dwarf, making the whole world cling

To thy cold arm before the infant feet

Of frail resolves can walk, man-like, complete,
Steep mountain-paths of high accomplishing !

Dim dragon in the path of our designing,
No Red-Cross Knight may vanquish! Though most brave,
Strong Will before thee crouches, a mute slave-

Faith dies to feel thee in her path declining!
If! thou dost seem to our poor human sense
The broken crutch of our blind providence !



Mrs. FANNY VANE was a painter who demure, quiet, formal, conventional. deserved to be called an artist. Her The wild flavor of her piquant individpictures evinced more than talent-even uality evaporated. She was like a genius. She was rapidly gaining dis- flower whose odor has suddenly ceased tinction, and promised to have power to exhale, which continues to exist, but enough to be benefited by popularity as the soulless image of itself. instead of being deteriorated by it. She had been married about nine Fanny was the daughter of Dr. Freeman years, when Mr. Vane was called by Ward, a physician in Northern New business to New Orleans. Important York, of marked characteristics and speculations, in which he was engaged, eminent ability. Her father's talents, failed disastrously. He lost his propin a great degree, she inherited, but the erty, and at the same time was attacked use to which she would apply them re- by a fever, induced by the climate, mained for a time a problem. Pretty which proved fatal. After a brief illand piquant, but wayward and capri- ness, he died. If, therefore, Fanny, at cious, frolicsome as a gipsey in many sixteen, had married from interested of her moods, and strangely gloomy motives, she was justly rewarded. She and defiant in others, little Fanny Ward, had been compelled to endure nine as a child, was a mystery, to herself and years of a wasted life, and at their conothers. From twelve to sixteen flirting clusion found awaiting her the same was her principal occupation during the poverty which she had suffered so much In the winter, she devoured

to escape. books, and developed her ardent ener- Poverty she no longer dreaded. From gies as she best could. She read and the profounder spiritual sorrows that it studied with her brothers, visited the had been her lot to experience, she had sick with her father, aided her sisters learned one lesson : to smile at difficulin their household duties—her mother ties; to find that they may arouse and she had lost in her infancy—and made stimulate instead of deadening the lonely pilgrimages through the snowy energies and will. From the pale and mountains, holding for hours a mystic lifeless image of herself that she had communion with nature. Her sturdy seemed, she suddenly blossomed into an strength and resolution generally en- earnest and enthusiastic woman and abled her to achieve success in whatever artist. When uncongenial natures are she undertook.

arbitrarily allied, the tyranny that is At sixteen Fanny surprised her friends sometimes exerted by the one over the by marrying Mr. Henry Vane, a mer- other-and, generally, by the inferior cbant from New York. In a worldly over the superior nature—is sometimes point of view, the match was excellent, appalling. Fanny, for nine years, had but sympathetically it proved unfor- been subjected to a sort of slavery, from tunate. After a brief courtship, and which she did not escape until she had without understanding any of the mys- learned how to use her freedom. She teries of her own nature, the young girl recovered her gayety, her originality, had united herself to a man with whom her energy. Her soul was restored to she was totally uncongenial. A strange her as if by magic, and she began the effect was produced upon her by the pursuit of her early aspirations precisely false relation into which she had so as if the dawn of her youth had not rashly entered. She lost her peculiari- been separated from the bloom of her ties, and with them her individuality. womanhood by a frightful chasm. Her spirits forsook her. She became After several years, Mrs. Vane succeed

ed in achieving a success not only in employment, suddenly interrupted by a
art, but in happiness. She loved. The knock at the door. The artist turned
suspicion of calculation had rested upon from the mirror reluctantly, but when,
her youth, and, probably, not without on opening the door, she recognized the
a cause. In strong natures it frequently intruder, her face brightened, and she
happens that the judgment is developed gave her visitor a warm welcome.
at an earlier period than the imagina “ Is it possible, dcar Adèle ! Wel.
tion and affections. At sixteen, Fanny come a thousand times! I was just
was ambitious and prudent. She had thinking of you, and wishing that you
experienced the inconveniences of pov would call. I have something impor-
erty in her father's household, and de tant to tell you."
sired to escape them. She had desired Adèle Courtney, the young lady thus
to be an artist, and imagined that the addressed, was Mrs. Vane's most in-
advantages to be derived from wealth timate friend. She was a brilliant,
and position would aid her in carrying " stylish-looking” girl, with a tall,

, out her plans. She reflected deliberate graceful figure, dark hair and eyes, and ly upon the future, and, after mature a face full of sensibility and genius, and consideration, had jilted a young ad- which, besides, was regularly beautiful. mirer, whose devotion she might have While her friend was speaking, she returned if she had listened to the voice sank down upon a sofa, out of breath of her heart, and had married a man of with climbing to the difficult eyrie. wealth without appreciating the neces “I am glad, in that case, that I obeyed sity of an ardent affection as the basis my impulse and came," she answered. of such a union.

“I must have felt an intimation wafted At twenty-eigbt Mrs. Vane was ten from your mind to mine. But what is der, impassioned, and ideal. At this your news?' period of her life she was utterly in “I have had a most singular advencapable of being influenced by an inter- ture, and, what is of more importance, ested motive. She now rejected several I have selected a subject for a new picwealthy suitors who were anxious to ture." gain her favor, and engaged herself to “ And what is it?- Vivien, the serà young artist to whom she had become pent Vivien coiling upon Merlin's knee; deeply attached. After all, she was a her fair hands playing with the wintry fortunate woman. She was old enough icicles of his beard ?” to value happiness, and young enough “No! You are three days behind to enjoy it. Youth casts away the most the time. Vivien has been laid upon costly advantages in the sheerest blind, the shelf for that period. Have you wilful ignorance—advantages for which read the 'Lost Tales of Miletus’ ?” the tears of a life cannot atone; and, The book had appeared only a few too often, before lost opportunities can weeks before. be regained, the hapless spendthrift can “No; I have not seen it.” no longer avail himself of the blessings “ Then I must tell you the story of . which he did not learn to appreciate the 'Secret Way,'a pathetic old legend, until too late.

to which the modern poet has given a So Time pursued his course, at the most graceful embodiment.” same time robbing and restoring-en Mrs. Vane related Lytton's graceful riching with priceless compensation the story with great dramatic intensity, and very heart that he had bereaved. took up a book that was lying on a

On a bright morning in the spring table by her side. of 1866, Mrs. Vane was standing before “ That is the scene," she cried, with a finely-carved, antique mirror, one of kindling countenance, “that I intend the ornaments of her picturesque studio. to illustrate-Argiope recognizing ZariShe was trying on several purchases that ades at the banquet. You can easily she had just been making, a pleasing imagine it. The poor princess has re

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On bended knees sank down


ceived a goblet from her father's hand, shall produce a work that will be a which she is to present to the warrior genuine inspiration. Yes! the young. whom she chooses for her bridegroom, est child, you know, is always the favoras a sign of her preference. She stands ite; and so with the youngest fancy. I pale and drooping, until urged by a have a presentiment that this old legend high-priest, who attends upon her, to will prove the foundation of my fame obedience. Then lifting her sad eyes, and fortune." she vaguely gazes about her, and of Mrs. Vane, eager and excited with course sees and recognizes the prince her narrative, sprang up, and began to "Sudden those eyes took light, and joy, and soul,

pace the room. Sudden from neck to temples flushed the rose,

“I am sure you will succeed, and I And with quick-gliding steps

congratulate you upon your having And the strange looks of one who walks in

found a subject that suits you so well.” slumber,

Adèle spoke in a low, measured tone, • She passed along the floor, and stooped above

indicating not only sympathy, but reA form, that, as she neared, with arms outstretched,

pressed sadness. She sympathized with

her friend's enthusiasm, but, at the And took the wine-cup with a hand that trem

same time, envied her happiness. She

envied her the power of abandoning • A form of youth-and nobly beautiful As Dorian models for Ionian gods.

herself so freely to the inspiration of Again!" it murmured low;

art, which so seldom entered into her “O dream, at last! at last! How I have missed

life, and without which life appeared thee!”

to her so poor and worthless. • And she replied, " The gods are merciful,

“ Time will prove,” Mrs. Vane anKeeping me true to thee when I despaired."

swered, in a more subdued manner. There, Adèle, I have shown you my “ But do not let us talk of it any more. picture,” Mrs. Vane cried, throwing Even now I tremble, lest my overweenaway the book, from which she had ing confidence should be the precursor read the above stanzas, while her blue of disappointment. I shall do my best eyes began to flash in their deep caverns to realize my ideal; more I cannot do. like quivering flames. “Ah! think And, in the meanwhile, you must hear what a scene! From the moment that my adventure.” I read the poem it has never ceased to “Gladly! What was it?" hover before mc day and night. Ah! " It is connected with my picture, or that love-kindled princess, with the I should not consider it of so much immagical goblet in her hand and her portance. You will never guess it, and youthful lover, a warrior and a king, I will not tantalize you, therefore, by kneeling at her feet, what a subject! asking you to try. I have seen the It has the grand simplicity and breadth prince." of one of the old Greek mythological “ The prince! What prince ?" themes, with the advantage of being “What prince, indeed ? Prince Zanew, or at least newly expressed, and riades !” inspired with a modern sentiment. And “Nonsense, Fanny! Tell me what then think of the costumes ! Think of

you mean." those gorgeous Eastern dresses, with “I went out this morning to make their rich colors, purple and gold, some purchases; and, my shopping conand lustrous creamy white. Color is cluded, got into a stage to return to my my strong point; and I shall try and studio, when whom should I see sitting show in this picture what wonders an opposite me but Prince Zariades ! A artist can achieve when he is allowed to man, Adèle ! But such a man! Hyfollow the original bent of his genius. perion to a satyr to ordinary mortals ! Never have I had an idea, for a picture, Never have I seen so handsome a human that pleased me so well. If I can only being! His face was purely, grandly embody this poet's dream as I feel it, I Greek. You remember my friend, Mrs.

VOL. II.-39

S—, whom I have always considered I must have known Prince Zariades, so fine a specimen of Greek beauty. but little did I imagine that my dream, Prince Zariades was even more perfect. as well as that of the heroine of the The type was underdrawn rather than legend, would prove a reality. Ah! my exaggerated, and was the more effective prince! my prince !

What do you upon that account. And what strength, think of him, Adèle ? " what character, what manliness in his “Without a dénouement, your story expression! No description can do jus- was not worth relating. How did it tice to the personality of the man.


terminate ?” had character, moral force-qualities “ In nothing! It is that which trouthat I admire so much more than a bles me! I looked at Prince Zariades merely brilliant intellect, an evanescent in despair. Monsieur, I thought, I flame, amounting to little or nothing, if would give a fortune, if I had it, for the unsustained by the moral force of which privilege of sketching that handsome it should be the instrument. Not that face of yours; how shall I make you Prince Zariades was deficient in intel- acquainted with the fact ? I thought lect. He may have been a second of a thousand excuses for speaking to Socrates for aught that I know. I wish him, and asking his address; but there simply to express that a strong person- was some fatal objection to every scheme ality, character, manliness, struck me as that occurred to me. I took out my his distinguishing traits. And his un- card, and resolved to state my request usual beauty! He had one of those plainly, in writing, and ask him to call foreheads that indicate strength. What at my studio; but my pencil refused to is it that gives certain brows such an frame a single sentence. Finally, my expression of power in reserve? The observation began to attract his attensockets of his eyes were carved like tion, or I imagined so, and became emthose of a Greek statue. The lids had barrassed. Before I had recovered my that divine droop that is only seen in self-possession, he stopped the stage, the highest types of beauty. The eyes and got out. I let him slip from me, themselves were of a dim blue, the blue and he disappeared in the crowd.” of a sleeping thunder-cloud. His throat “I think you were very foolish, that was like a column; his mouth, nose, is, if you really wished him to sit to and chin were those of the Apollo; and as for his hair-can you imagine, Adèle, “It was not the fear of disregarding the color of his hair?"

conventional rules that prevented me “Undoubtedly that which the gods from speaking, but the mere habit of designed whatever that may have yielding to them. Conventionality is a been."

woman's inheritance, and she does not "A bright, chestnut brown, the rarest know how closely she is bound until a of all colors, the most beautiful; and he sudden emergency calls upon her to act wore it in short crisp curls. Just such with the freedom and spontaneity of an covered the heads of the gods when they independent being; and then her wits sat around their banqueting-tables in are sure to play her false. We have Olympus, and Hebe poured out their courage enough, heaven knows, to conwine. Ah! those chestnut curls! They quer kingdoms, but we cannot break 2 in themselves alone would have been single link of the subtle, insidious, inenough to bewilder an ordinary brain; visible chains, wound about us in our but what bewildered me was the strange infancy, that have grown with our impression that I was gazing upon the growth, and strengthened with our actual being whom I had been endeav- strength, until they seem to have beoring to imagine. There was the face come a portion of our very life. What that had so painfully haunted me from miserable slaves we are ! To gain the the moment that I first conceived the greatest name that life can offer, we idea of my picture. In the spirit world cannot pass beyond the imaginary circle


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