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WE OF LAKE GEORGE.

tag its beautiful light over

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sail-posts more foating upon its surface, and the night-hawk flapped his speckled wings close upon the 7 waves. Soft, light clouds were und the summits on the mountains; winds sighed through ti fir-trees which ter the lake, and all was peaceful, and my, and wild.

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woodland grace that might be vainly imitated by the artists of fashion, and a few wild flowers were twisted among the curls which shaded her brow. The maiden could scarcely be termed beautiful, if beauty be ever associated with classical elegance of feature, or with a brilliant purity of complexion. Yet, if soul in the human face be beauty, if there be loveliness in the radiance of the mind, then, indeed, was she surpassingly beautiful.

She was reading aloud an evening service from the Scriptures. On the threshold of the dwelling, and within hearing of her voice, sat her aged father, his soul evidently wrapt up in the devotional reflections which were awakened by the lesson which fell so sweetly from the lips of his child. When this was finished, the old man knelt upon the grass beside his daughter, and lifted up a trembling, but earnest prayer to Heaven. This also concluded, they retired into their rustic dwelling, and prepared for their nightly repose.

In a small arbor, which was formed by the interlacing of birches, stood a young man, watching with something of a devotional interest the progress of that simple evening service. His figure was slight, and his countenance pale and student-like. Dark hair curled lightly about his

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brow, and dark eyes shone radiantly from beneath an overhanging forehead.

Every night, for more than a week, he had regularly listened to the musical cadences of that sweet girl's voice, and to the prayer of that venerable old man. And ere he was aware, and without once having spoken to her, he had grown to love that gentle maiden, and to pray devoutly for her happiness. O love! thou mysterious agent of the human heart! on what strange missions art thou sped, and how delicate and cautious, yet irresistible, are thy operations! Thou ridest in the glance of a beautiful eye, and thou makest a smile thy chariot. Upon the tones of a soft and holy voice thou enterest into the sanctuary of the heart, awakening fountains that shall flow and waste not forever; that shall grow forever purer as they flow, making music to the march not only of human but of divine and endless existence. O love! love! thou who art God, and heaven, and Jesus the Saviour of men, thou who art all that is divine in human nature, and all that is religious in the material world which God has made for us, how cold and careless, how sunken and degraded, are they who mock at thy holy name, and ridicule those sacred influences by which thou art guiding and sanctifying the world.

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