she even ventured to repeat the fine accounts her brother had given. “Yes,” exclaimed the light hearted boy, "it was every word true. My cage is the handsomest in the whole world, and has the handsomest bird in it; and Mr Vandellyn's house is the handsomest in the whole world, and-" "What a pity," interrupted the smiling Recluse," that my handsome cage has not the handsomest bird in the whole world in it.” "You could never find a prettier bird than mine at Diamond Isle,” replied the artless boy. "I believe it,” rejoined his friend; and he looked and spoke so significantly, that Mary's cheek burned with blushes, while honest George in vain perplexed his mind with conjecturcs whether Mr Vandellyn wished to have his bird back again.

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When they reached the lake, the Recluse made a motion to accompany them; but Miss Campbell said, with evident embarrassment, “ I had rather you would not go with us. Indeed I had much rather you would not." The shade of vexation and disappointment, which passed over his speaking countenance, troubled the gentle girl; and she turned back to add, with the most bewitching artlessness, "I did not mean that I had rather not have you go. It would be very pleasant indeed to me; but-but—indeed, you had better go back, Mr Vandellyn." "I will return to please you, sweet girl," exclaimed the delighted lover. Farewell, till you hear from me again.”

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"She is not tinged with vulgarity," thought he, as he retraced his steps homeward. "She has delicacy a thousand times more refined than artificial dignity can

ever imitate." Under the influence of recent excitement, he wrote to offer her his hand, his heart, and his fortune. In his letter, he proposed adopting her brother; begged leave to defray the expenses of one year's education for herself; and voluntarily promised to make no attempt to see her during that time, if it were unpleasant to her. Such delicacy and generosity might well have won the proudest and coldest heart; but the desolate and affectionate Mary Campbell was entirely overpowered by it; and, in the enthusiasm of her gratitude, she thought it honor and happiness enough for her to be Arthur Vandellyn's slave, to watch his motions, and obey his every signal.

George wondered at the emotion his sister evinced, and when he was told the letter was from Mr Vandellyn, his first sorrowful idea was that the bird must be returned; but, when he was made to comprehend that his new friend had offered to educate him, and marry his sister, he could not control his feelings. After kissing Mary a hundred times, and crying and laughing alternately, he rushed out of the house, and, before his absence was noticed, he was in his benefactor's dwelling. The eloquent speech he had prepared to say, forsook him the moment the Recluse met him with one of his winning smiles. He burst into tears, and exclaimed, "You are too good, sir, indeed you are too good; and we all love you so much!" "Then you and Mary will go to school, for my sake?" inquired the visionary. "Oh, it is such a blessing to go," rejoined the poor boy; "and then if it wasn't, we would do anything and everything for you. I wish

you could have seen Mary cry over your letter, and heard how often she said that you were the best man in the whole world."

Though the poet's life had been more like "a fairy dream,” than usually falls to the lot of mortals, he had never known true happiness before. Many and valuable are the boasted delights of intellect and taste, but one moment of the heart's bliss is worth them all. So at least thought Arthur Vandellyn, when a simple, affectionate letter from Mary, thanked him for his goodness, and expressed her entire confidence in his integrity. The brother and sister were both placed at excellent schools; and though Arthur was, for a season, separated from the object so suddenly become necessary to his existence, yet her frequent, unstudied letters, showed that he was beloved with that mingled reverence and self-devotion so dear to the heart of

man.

In the mean time, a cloud, which the young enthusiast had not foreseen, was gradually spreading over his sunshine of prosperity and joy. Like Shenstone, he had surrounded himself with luxurious elegance, to which his funds were inadequate. Strange as it may seem, for one educated in America, he had an eye and a soul for all the beauties of statues, pictures, and exotics, without the habit of counting their cost. The result was, his fifteen thousand were gone, twice over, before he was aware of it. His creditors were impatient; six years must still elapse before he received another portion of his wealth; his trustees warned him against borrowing the forbidden sum; and no

resource remained, but the sale of his beautiful cottage. Unused as the Recluse was to all the rankling cares of life, this alternative went like a dagger to his sensitive heart. However, he resolved to support Mary and George at all events, even if he were compelled to personal exertion. Accordingly, a day was appointed, and the retreat, with all its elegant appendages, was sold at public auction. Much curiosity was excited, and crowds assembled to witness the sale. A tall, dignified, middle aged gentleman appeared to take an extraordinary interest in all that was passing. He asked innumerable questions concerning the character and habits of Vandellyn; doubled what was last offered for any article, however extravagant the price, and left the spot undisputed master of the whole establishment. In this way, a much larger sum was obtained than his creditors had expected; and, after every debt was honorably discharged, the Recluse found that rigid economy would enable him still to support himself and the orphans. His first impulse was to thank the generous unknown; but he had much of that unbending pride, too often the fault of genius, and he could not endure the idea that he owed his present security to the compassion of a stranger. An honest spirit of independence was stirred within him, and for the first time in his life he thought of the productions of his pencil as a means of future support.

Among other unfinished views, he had a favorite one, which represented Mary Campbell as he had first seen her stepping into the boat at Diamond Isle. He

had ceased to visit that island, together with many a beloved haunt, during his recent distress; but he now resolved to take his canvas to the picturesque spot where he had first sketched its outlines. As he approached the margin of the lake, and saw his boat pushing off from the shore, the painful recollection that it was no longer his own, crowded upon him. He made a signal to the bargeman, which was instantly obeyed; and, in the embarrassment of offering money for a passage to Diamond Isle, he did not at first notice that the stately unknown was already a passenger.

The haughty Recluse would gladly have retreated; but the gentleman ordered the boat to be drawn up for his accommodation, and with the most friendly politeness urged him to enter. "I am a stranger here, Mr Vandellyn," said he; "and I hear that you have an artist's eye, and a poet's tongue. I should really like to share this romantic prospect with you." He spoke with a slightly foreign accent, and his manner was so fascinating, that Vandellyn could not decline the invitation.

It was a clear, bright, autumnal day. The lake shone beneath the sinking sun like liquid amber; the little green islands seemed to smile at their own shadows; the distant mountains threw an almost imperceptible outline on the cloudless sky; and the rugged peaks which surrounded the lake, looked down upon it in stern and lofty majesty. Thus enclosed, the fair sheet of water, so pellucid and motionless, looked like a lovely babe sleeping at the feet of steel clad warriors, enjoying its dream of peace, all unconscious of their frowns.