flock of great butterflies over a bed of gay cabbages, on a hot Sunday in summer: and another, more decided in character, by observing the simultaneous nutations of heads, fingers and arms in an orchestra. These effects are different from that of a band of marching men; for the entire body of these last moves forward by rhythmic progressions, while in the cases just instanced, the company considered together, is stationary; and the rhythmic movement of individual limbs and instruments throws only an atmosphere, as it were, of ordered motion over the whole. I threw out of consideration the bodies of the dancers, and only observed their heads. A strong volition of a few ininutes' duration enabled me entirely to lose the remembrance of bodies, and to free myself from the sensations coming from the sound of the music; and so, from the silent motions of the dancers, and the accompanying expressions of the faces, in quadrille dances especially, there arose before me a spectacle of such intense absurdity that I was forced to break off my occupation to avoid an obtrusive laugh. I was beholding only faces, it will be remembered, as solely as if I had been looking at heads cut off. The expressions upon nearly all of them were of intense solemnity. Nearly upon a level, they bobbed up and down in couples and fours; swam about, cocking themselves oddly to one side or to the other; turned towards each other in the alternations of rest, and gibbered slightly; anon, launched forth again upon the inane vagaries of their solemn mummery. I nearly laughed aloud, but ceased gazing: and, forthwith, grew angry. Apish phantasms of silly sport, the winking, wiggling heads were a fair representation of the earnestness with which the "first circles" bury themselves in the mindless frivolities of polite society. I was angry that the observances of fashion should be so much regarded, even by the brainless nobodies who gabbled and fluttered before me; and with a most expansive and ardent aspiration after the Apotheosis of Labor, I left the dancers to their aimless evolutions. Then I made a similar experiment upen the heterogeneous volume of sounds that arose from the social hubbub of the rooms. Not listening to any single voice, I regarded only the clacking, clattering rattle that flowed turbulently up from so many voices, mingled with the TOL. V.-10 monotonous dance-music of the two German fiddlers, the harpist and pianist, who officiated as orchestra. The din was stunning. It was as if the English language had been torn into ragged angular scraps and fragments, and vociterated at the utmost possible speed, and entirely at random, by the whole company. Now and then a shrill laugh, or one or two connected words loudly articulated, jumped up from the rough average of the confused noise. The harsh fiddle-notes darted and streamed up and down among the tumult, like so many vocal squibs; and the harp and piano were scarcely audible. A minute or two of such listening satisfied me, and I returned to my invidious business of watching my neighbors. A flaxen-haired and flaxen-moustached dandy, whose unnaturally slender limbs, cased, secundum artem, in skintight pants, would almost qualify him for the workhouse under the vagrant laws, as "having no visible means of support," stood "diddling" (i. e., imitating the movements of a wretch in an ague-fit), after the approved fashion, and expending washy conversation and washier smiles upon a female counterpart. Two or three city damsels, very much alike, all having the fair complexions, slender forms and large fringed eyes, so common among metropolitan beauties,—were giggling and chattering, in the enjoyment of that fluent ladies' talk so incomprehensible and unattainable to us stupid and slow-tongued men. Two or three wizzled antiques of the same sex mumbled sourly together upon a sofa. Several fat mothers conversed in awful conclave, on the other side of the room; and in the middle, the varying dances wove their interminable tangle. She With her back towards me, so near that I could almost hear her words, stood a tall young woman dressed in black, with magnificent shoulders and arms, with raven-black hair of great fineness, length and volume, and a dark but peculiarly transparent complexion. was surrounded by several gentlemen, whom she seemed at no loss to entertain, at least so far as to bear her full share in the conversation, and in the commerce of wits, whatever they might be; for there seemed to be in the circle much laughter, though not of the pleasantest sort. As I watched the group, I saw one and another of the gentlemen's faces redden, when the others laughed; one or or two grew preternaturally sober, and She stood talking with her retinue for a considerable time; and afterward with others who approached. I observed her steadily and intently, watching her head, her temperament, her form, and her demeanor. All were faultless; at least, oven with a sufficiently critical disposition, and much experience in estimating phrenological, physiological, and psychological characteristics, I could not see anything to change. I did not, however, as I said, see the front of her head. I gazed and gazed, until I became absorbed in my contemplations, and in considering their consequent and collateral reflections, my meditations eventuated in a profound reverie, of a dim and undefinable character. All my thoughts, at first, seemed centered upon the individual lady at whom I had been looking. But I lost track of them; and it seemed, afterward, as if I had entered into a state resembling that which Asiatic ascetics believe they can attain by unending reiterations of their sacred name. I was aroused from entire forgetfulness of time and place, by some sudden and uncomfortable sensation, which made me for an instant suspect that I had been struck, although I could not say where. Upon this unceremonious recall of my fugitive wits, whatever its nature might be, I looked again at the fair object of my speculations; and with such a feeling as if I had not seen her for a long time. For the sudden change from abstracted reverie of intense contemplation, to mere ordinary intuition, was quite great enough to cause the requisite break in the current of my consciousness. The strange beauty, for some reason or other, was blushing deeply-at least it is improbable that so brilliant a color would incarnadine her neck, and not her cheeks and brow. Deeply she blushed for some unknown reason, and almost immediately she moved away, without turning her head, saying something which I could not hear, to a distant part of the room. I recurred to my cogitations upon the flitting figures before me, but still my thoughts recurred to the "dark ladye." I felt certain that she must be well worth acquaintance. It could hardly be possible that one evidently of so remarkable natural endowments, should not present a rare study for the philosopher-especially for the philosopher in living minds. I desired to complete my new discovery. My snug corner became dull. I left it; and edged and twisted about the lofty rooms, pretending great need to arrive at some point in advance, which, like the beetle with buttered horns, I carried forward as I went. Up and down I wormed about; sometimes looking earnestly at the other side of the room in general; sometimes peering with emphasis at a feigned something among the closely crowded male and female shoulders around me; until, after making a good deal of trouble, and many skilful evolutions, I unsuspectedly established myself to my satisfaction, en échelon and to the front of my unknown. Thus, I was in better luck than before, in my philosophical pursuit. For while I was as well hidden from her as before, by the densely aggregated and moving mass of the crowd, a skilful adjustment of my operations would preserve me from annoying her, while I could study her face and gesture-language to much better advan tage. Of her face, the lower half was perfect but not peculiar, unless for the firm closure of the full lips. The eyes were large, black, and deep-set. brows fell with an unusual slope at the The eyeouter end of the eye. The forehead rose high above, full and steep, like an intelportions which would be its four angles, lectual man's forehead; and in those were it a parallelogram laid athwart the face, fuller than any I had ever observed. And in looking, again I glided into deep and concentrated musings; and again, from a state of profound reverie, I was aroused by such another shock as I had felt before. Again I gathered together my scattered thoughts; and as soon as I had retraced their lost clue up to the passing moment, again I looked toward the dark beauty who had so much at tracted me. She had changed her position, and was looking another way; but again, whether from some casualty of conversation, or from having noticed my persistent gaze, she was blushing. Beginning, now, to be actuated by a desire to obtain by conversation the complement of the scanty knowledge with which mere exterior observation had supplied me, and thus to secure some Satisfactory acquaintance with one who, I did not doubt, possessed unusual gifts, I forthwith resorted to Cousin Ellen. From her I requested an introduction to my fair unknown; at the same time inquiring in general as to her name and condition. She was, Ellen said, a Miss Irene Chester; the daughter of a farmer in one of the small sea-port towns of Fairfield County, Connecticut; an assistant teacher in one of the city schools; an old schoolmate of hers, cousin Ellen's; here in society for almost the first time, but already making quite a sensation; nicknamed "The Two-edged Sword," from the keenness of her repartees; always a strange girl; invited on the ground of the school-fellowship, having, I think, been Ellen's room-mate; perhaps not known at all in city society, beyond Ellen's immediate circle; of great conver-ational talent, a student, a reader, and otherwise accomplished. These last, namely, the study, reading and accomplishments, a trifle unsettled me; for ladies with those recommendations usually gabble and dabble, but little else. Yet I took comfort from the omen of power in the nick-name, and persisted. Miss Chester heard my name and the recital of my cousinship to the pretty Lostess, with considerable frigidity; locked ine clearly in the eye as I accosted ber, and waited, apparently under the influence of some dislike or disinclination to speak, for me to begin. These cool receptions are very much more adapted to vivify one's anger than one's intellect. I burned in inward wrath and outward speechlessness, for a miste or so; then suddenly adopting a resolution, I drove away the rage, assued as pretty a simper as I could muster, and ventured to remark, with an ar of great interest and (I flatter myself) a well executed "diddle," ter." It's very fine weather, Miss Ches among so many disagreeable vulgar people!" "Do you think so?" said she, with a sort of glimmer in her eye. "If it is so disagreeable, what made you come?" "Self-denial," answered I, "is healthful for the soul. And aside from that excellent reason"-here I rather exagge rated my simper and my diddle, to the young lady's evident disgust-"I must have had a presentiment of pleasure reserved for me, in the acquisition of so delightful an acquaintance as Miss Chester." I accompanied the last words with a culminating grin, and as silly a bow as I could contrive. “Are you acquainted with me ?" she asked, with a curious observing expression of eye and of lip, as much as to say, "behold here a new and strange variety of baboon." I sniggered after the most approved style, and answered with the fashionable euphuistic dialect, at which I could easily see that Miss Chester's disdain and anger were flaming almost unendurably, "He, he, he! Ah flattah meself that I am competent to elucidate and analyze charactahs at short notice. But you must be weary with standing so long. Pahmit me to wait upon you to the téteà-tête opposite; and if you will allow me, ah shall be exceedingly delighted to fahnish you a specimen of my powahs in that line." "By all means, sir," said Miss Chester. "I thank you." So we sat down. "I must make one preface," said I. "I presume that a young lady of Miss Chester's talents and information" (another disdain-provoking bow from me), "is aware that such observation as I have been able to make, cannot reveal what modifications circumstances and occupation may have engrafted upon your original character. Perinit me, therefore, to ask that you will just tell me what and where your life has been." "Not one single syllable," returned she, with evident pleasure in a short refusal. "You pretended to an acquaintance with me, and offered to prove it. And now, when it comes to the trial, you already begin to feel about for such scraps and hints as you may hope to coax out of me, after the usual fashion of fortune-tellers. I thought it would be so. I don't believe you know yourself, and to pretend to know me, whom you never saw before, and pro bably never will again! How should you? And why should you?" "I know this, at least," said I, quietly, and dropping my baboonery, "that you are quite angry, and that you have acquired a sudden and immeasurable contempt for me. Is it not so?" "Yes," said she, promptly, and with inconsiderate but full sincerity; for she spoke in answer to all my conversation and manners, up to my last question. Then she started, and looking at me in hasty alarm, and reflecting what her answer had been, added, "No;" for she comprehended for the first time the indications afforded by the new tone of the query. "Hot and cold," I replied. "However, both answers are right. No matter for the apparent inconsistency. Deeper thinkers than either of us have decided that truth may oftentimes best be presented by the assertion of incompatible extremes." "I think you are correct," said Miss Chester, "but I don't know how you could tell. However, as to that notion about presenting truth, it behoves to be careful lest the poor creature perish between its two incompatible bundles of hay. Well, sir; now, if you will please commence the proof positive of acquaintance?" 66 Yes." I scanned her face a moment, and added, "You do not like to attend church." "I do, too," she replied, hastily. "You are wrong there." "You are glad to think so," I said. "But think a moment. I do not mean that you dislike religious services. But does not very much of the church choir music displease you?" "Yes." "And the prayers-were you never perplexed with a troublesome feeling that somehow they were not your prayers? "And the sermon-I am sure you have often shocked your friends by staying at home and reading one, when they were sure you ought to have been at church." "Pshaw!" said Miss Chester, "you found that out from cousin Ellen." "Not at all. I stated the particular fact merely as one phase of a characteristic which ramifies into many manifestations. You are what is sometimes called 'original'-I mean slow of belief, and independent in reasoning. You examine doctrine and precept for your self. The rapid statements of a sermonof any oral discussion of a subject, do not satisfy you. You want to examine, to compare, to weigh. That accounts for your preferring to read sermons rather than to hear them. In general, you dislike lectures and public addresses, on whatever subjects; and in general, you prefer to read on them rather than to hear. As to the prayers, you are wrong to allow yourself in the feeling, though I am right in stating it to you. The dissatisfaction is owing to your defect of sympathy, either with congregation or preacher. If you would abandon yourself to a generous participation in petitions which are only such as universal petitions must of necessity be, you would reap good from the prayer. The music, not to speak of its usual wretched execution, is unpleasant to you, as a dishonest pretence of praise, offered usually by the irreligious and profane lips of persons who chant hymns to God, not because hymns overflow from hearts full of love, but because in their individual cases, the laryngeal membranes and tissues possess unusual motive and vibratory power. You see that my observations are merely individual corollaries from the premises of honesty, good observing and reflecting faculties, and musical temperament." "It appears, then," said Miss Chester, "that your acquaintance is one not of very long standing, and hypothetical and extemporaneous to an extreme." "But have I not spoken truly ?" 66 "Yes, I believe so," said she, although the things you say are such, as for some reason or other had not been articulately presented to me exactly in that way. I hardly knew them, if at all. And what is more," she added, "with a troubled look, "I do not like to be so easily read. I had thought myself safe in unintelligibility." "While," I rejoined, "you fancied that nobody else had got beyond 'baker and shady."" 6 "Excuse the long word. I will plead the privilege of my pedagogy for that, though. But as to your discoveries; I see that things which I certainly never told to anybody, are known outside of my own mind. The more I think of it, the less I like it." "But you should not dislike truth," I said. "The truth is not to be spoken at all times. Nor is it always best or necessary to have it known even." "Perhaps not," I answered. will proceed with my analysis." "But I No," said Miss Chester, hastily. "You have said enough already. IYou" "One single remark let me make, however," I answered, and I now looked steadily into eyes that did not endure my gaze. "Just one thing. You do not despise me any longer. And you are half afraid of me, and the rest, I fear, is dislike." "I won't tell you anything about it," she replied, with an alarmed sharpness. Very well; quite as well;" I rejoined. "A good observer is like a good arithmetician. He proves his work as he goes along; he does not need to look for the answer in the book.' But let me ask you if you play chess?" "I do. Not much; but I am very fond of it." Will you give me leave to come and play a game with you?" I asked. I had permission; and thus our conversation ended for the evening. It is no part of the design of this plain statement of fact, to produce any dramatic surprises. So I will plainly say, that by this time I was exceedingly delighted with my new acquaintance, and, indeed, to all intents and purposes, thoroughly and suddenly "in love at first sight." But as to the nature of her opinions, in regard to me, except for the brief synopsis which I had mentioned to herself, and which, also I was confident of, in respect to my estimate of their kind, but not of their degree, I could form no guess. But respect is much. CHAPTER SECOND. MISS CHESTER, in truth, was almost my ideal, in point of personal attractions; namely, the embodiment of health and strength, under the lovely feminine limitations imposed by the laws and graceful lines of womanly beauty; and I felt a certainty which long observation and study in psychology and physiology might justify, that her mind was worthy even of a nobler casket, if such an one were imaginable. The fine hair, so inserurably dark; the deep liquid eyes, whose unfathomable irises seemed, as I gazed into thein, overflowing as reduncant fountains into the clear white eyebals; the dark and clear transparency of skin, demonstrated (a rare conjunc tion) quickness and endurance, not bodily only, but intellectual. The great volume of the head, the noble lofty forehead, the height of the upper cerebral region, proved as surely her intellectual excellence; which, in such a character as hers, must have been sustained and developed by the severe discipline of her work as a teacher. For, although the fact is seldom recognized, and indeed little known, no occupation on earth furnishes so comprehensive, invigorating, and symmetrical an exercise for the maturing, or matured mind, as the quiet and neglected business of "teaching school." And although disagreeable conclusions might seem suggested by the sharp words which I was certain she had distributed plentifully to the amiable youths, my predecessors in conversation, of which she had given me a specimen or two, and of which, the surname she had acquired might be reckoned a boding omen, yet they pleased me. For the wretched dandies richly deserved them. And how natural was it, for a strong and clear mind like hers, full of noble thoughts and the power to live them out, to be kindled into sparkling and blazing anger at the witless drivel of the butterflies she crushed! Moreover; I remembered with keen delight, how the wrathful contempt which my simulated folly had provoked, faded out forthwith, as soon as I spoke true and clear thoughts to her; how her maiden pride, so pardonably and beautifully lofty and outspoken, when she felt that her interlocutors dwelt in a sphere far below her -when she flashed lightnings of scorn down upon their puny heads from the ethereal air of her own inaccessible and uninvaded realm of thought-had fled, abashed; how with truthful and maidenly honesty infinitely more lovely than her beautiful anger, and which was the basis, to me reflecting upon it, of deep delicious musings, she had recognized in me an intelligence honest and like her own, in kind at least, even if (which I never doubted) her womanhood had clothed her with the great womanly prerogatives of deeper intuitions and more unfathomable enthusiasms. And that she was a true woman still, and not a mannish unsexed truant from her right life-limits, I knew; first, because I had seen so plainly-and I revelled in the remembrance, not from selfish pride of power, but because the fact vindicated to myself a claim of near relationship to such a noble soul-because I had seen |