be loved without being told of it in -mutely or audibly-is like smol dark. One must see the smoke of enjoy it, and be told of the love that for him, or else he is defrauded of that should attend it.

None but those who have loved d posed to understand the oratory of t mute eloquence of a look, or the co Love's sweetes powers of the face.

are unspoken; the full heart knows of words, and resorts to the pantomi and glances.

Love-Letters-A profusion of fanci tations is out of place in a love-let feeling is always direct, and never d by-ways to cull flowers of rhetoric. sensible love-letters extant are thos Mary Wortley Montague. There is trope, a simile, or a figure of speec Strangely enough, the most purely a women wrote the most natural of Though celebrated for her wit, she the character, and speaks, as she

some way ng in the

is cigar to is hoarded

me rapture

an be suphe eye, the versational meanings no rhetoric

ne of sighs

es and quoTrue

ter. eviates into

The most › of Lady scarcely a 1 in them. Artificial of love-letters.

here drops should do,

only as a woman

writing what she feels, and

feeling what she writes.

sweet.

Love-letters are ever a mixture of bitter and There is always in them a something not communicated, a something too much, or a something too little, that fails to satisfy the demands of an ardent affection. It is in vain. that the writer assures his fair correspondent, in the most explicit terms, that his tenderest affections are hers. His present warmth is well enough, but "his former coldness is still unexplained," or, "will he always feel so?" or, "lovers are fickle, and can change their vows as often as occasions serve." Nor will repeated protestations cure the evil. Quarrels are neces

sary to the existence of love-or the requirements of a sensitive affection are not easily gratified. "He says that he loves me, that he adores me," cries a still dissatisfied beauty, pettishly throwing her lover's letter from her

66

why don't he tell me what it is he loves me for?" She wanted what the lawyers call a bill of particulars, to be told (as what woman does not, to be sure?) of her perfections in detail. Ah, my friends, Love, like a froward boy,

Ill cries

e of the

in two is also moment

h other, who wit

n is an parties

hen the assumed

Thus, eir time ve each rdly to

mistress

ody and

steemed lered as

Indeed, we laugh at the vagaries of Don Quixote, and are amused at the easy credulity of his redoubtable squire, Sancho Panza, but neither the mad fancies of the knight of La Mancha, nor the gross simplicity of his entertaining follower, are at all comparable to the aberrant conceits, the humorous fantasies, of love-sick swains.

"Love is blind, and lovers cannot see

The pretty follies that themselves commit."

Perverted Love When a woman cannot be turned from her love by the disclosed unworthiness of her lover, it is not his character that she loves, but his person.

Lovers' Quarrels - Their love for each other is only partial who differ much and widely. When a loving heart speaks to a heart that loves in return, an understanding is easily arrived at.

We should do by our friends' as lovers by their mistresses' faults: be blind to them when we can, incredulous when told of them, and when we cannot deny, excuse them.

Successful Love - Love triumph: load off our hearts, and-puts i shoulders.

Unsuccessful Love - There are tw disappointed lovers those who are before marriage, and those who are after it. Let the sighing swain, w prospered in his suit, console himse assurance that by his present disa he has perhaps escaped another muc rious.