their excellences. The fancied portrait of her future husband was laid in simple though impressive colours, but the background of the picture was filled with all the splendours of a tropical clime, of groves such as the early Christians wandered through in Grecian Isles, and skies such as bent over Him who taught beneath them in the golden orient. True, she was to be exiled for ever from the sheltered scenes and quiet fireside of her youth; but would she not be content to rove for ever with one only companion whose soul could fully sympathise with hers in scenes so fresh and so Elysian?

With a mind softened, if not enervated by those day-dreams, not less than by the bland and voluptuous clime in which they had been for some days sailing, our young enthusiast could scarcely suppress a scream of delight, when upon coming on deck one morning, she found that the ship had cast anchor in the beautiful bay of, where her wildest visions of tropical scenery seemed more than realised. The water around the ship was as clear as the mountain-streams of her native country; and the palm-trees and cocoas that bent over it, lifted their slender columns, and waved their tufted heads against a sky more purely bright than any she had ever beheld; while clouds of tropical birds of the most dazzling plumage, sailed along the shore, or sported around the vessel, as if wholly regardless of man.

A number of the natives had launched their light barks from the shore, filled with bread, fruit, and other acceptable luxuries to those who have been long at sea. Alice was watching their approach with girlish interest in the novelty of the scene, when a boat from the opposite side of the crescent-shaped harbour made the ship, and almost before she was aware of its approach, a striking figure, dressed after the clerical fashion of her own country, in a full suit of black, presented himself at the companion way, and leaping on deck instantly hurried towards her. She turned round-looked at him intensely for a moment-made one faltering step towards him, and fainted in his arms.

The gentleman laid her carefully upon a flag that chanced to be folded near; and still supporting her head upon one knee, gazed upon her features with looks of surprise and anxiety, which soon yielded to complete bewilderment as she addressed him upon coming to herself.

"Thank God!" she exclaimed, gradually reviving; "thank God! thank God!-how can I ever have deserved this ?" and, bending her face forward, she impressed a reverential kiss upon his hand, and then covered her face in confusion.

My readers have all read of love at first sight, and some perhaps have heard of instances of it among their acquaintance. The sceptics to the doctrine, however I imagine, far outnumber those who really believe in it. It is the latter therefore whom I will beg to recollect all the circumstances which preceded this singular scene; when they cannot deem it unnatural that the wrought-up feelings of an ardent and sensitive girl should thus burst forth upon first meeting in her affianced husband, her appointed friend and protector in a strange land, him that religion and duty taught her that she must love,--upon meeting in him all that her dreams of happiness for long, long months of anxious solitude had pictured. I ought to add however, that the interchange of several letters between Miss Vere and her betrothed before leaving her native shores, while partially removing the awkwardness of their first meeting, had supplied perhaps that "food for young

thoughts" which, in a nature artless and enthusiastic as hers, might engender the most confiding affections even for an object that she had

never seen.

"And is this beautiful island to be our home?—Are these my hus. band's people around us?-Oh! how I shall love every thing that belongs to this fair land! But why do you not speak to your poor wanderer?-Alas! alas! can I ever deserve all these blessings ?"

The embarrassment of the gentleman seemed only to increase as the agitated girl thus poured out her feelings. He begged her to be calm, and seemed most nervously solicitous to restrain her expressions; and the captain approaching at that moment, he made a hurried and indistinct apology for his abruptness; and withdrawing his arm from her waist as she regained her feet, moved off to seek the mate in another part of the vessel.

"Ah! Mr. Supercargo, I mistrusted we should find you at this island!" exclaimed the mate, turning round, and shaking hands with him, as the gentleman touched his shoulder upon joining this officer nearer the capstan. "All well at home, Mr. F- Here's a letter

from your wife."

The other tore open the letter, and devoured it with evident delight, and then shaking hands again with the officer, exclaimed,

"Thank thank you, But all are well at home, as you tell me. you; how in the world came that beautiful insane creature in your vessel ?" "A mad woman! The devil a bit of a mad 'woman or any other woman have we on board, except Mrs. T-, the wife of Parson T- that is to be."

"The wife of Mr. T

?"

Why, yes, as good as his wife. She's a gal from York State we are carrying out to be spliced to old Dead-eyes."

The gentlemanlike supercargo seemed struck with concern; in fact, the true state of the case flashed upon his mind in a moment. The deep mourning which he wore out of respect for one of his employers, whose ship he was that day to visit, had evidently caused him to be mistaken for a clergyman; and the excited imagination of the lonely girl had prompted her to see in him the future guardian of her friendless condition. Nothing however could be done; an attempt at explanation would but betray her secret to the coarse natures by which she was surrounded. Her lot in life too was cast; his sympathy could avail her nothing, and a few days' voyage would consign her to the care of him who might legitimately receive the proofs of tenderness which he had so innocently elicited in his own behalf. He called for his boat, and passing slowly and dejectedly over the side of the vessel, pulled for the shore.

Alice Vere had in the mean time retired to the cabin, where she expected her lover-it was the first time she had even thought the word-to join her. Her own feelings had so crowded upon her mind during the brief interview, that they had prevented her from observing his; and the luxury of emotion in which she now indulged, and in which she thought there was not one consideration human or divine to make it wrong for her to indulge, prevented her from observing the lapse of time. Simple and single-hearted, with a nature whose affluent tenderness piety could regulate and delicacy could temper, though neither could repress, she poured the flood of her pent-up feelings in what seemed their heaven-appointed channel; in a word, she was gone

an age in love while numbering the minutes of her acquaintance with her lover. His noble and manly figure, his alert and elastic step in approaching her, and the kindly look of feeling and intelligence his features wore, a look of intense interest, which she, poor girl, little dreamt was prompted by concern for another, of whom he was about to ask her; nay, even the hurried tones of his agitated but still most musical voice, all were stamped upon her heart as indelibly as if their impress had been the work of years.

The water rippling along the vessel's side first roused her from this delicious reverie, and the mate who was a rough but kind-hearted seaman at that moment came below to make an entry in his log.

"Well, miss," cried he, "with this breeze we'll soon bring up at the parson's door; and right glad to be rid of us you'll be, I guess, when we get there. Only thirty-six hours more, and you'll be home." "This island, then, is not Mr. T's residence ?"

"This ?-Oh no. There used to be a Britisher here, but they have got no missionary man upon it now."

"And does Mr. T have to go thus from island to island in the performance of his duty? or did he only come so far from his people to meet me?" she asked with some embarrassment.

"Come!" exclaimed the bless your soul, Parson T

seaman, not a little puzz!ed; "why, law has not been here, at least that I know

"Surely he's now on board," cried Alice, alarmed, yet hardly knowing why: "surely I saw him speaking to you on deck."

"To me, missus!-I never cared to exchange two words with old Dead-eyes, axing your pardon, since I knowed him. Speaking to me! Why, that--that was-why, my eyes! you have not taken young Washington F-'s handsome figure for old Ebenezer T——'s mouldy carcase?"

The rude but not unfriendly mate had hardly uttered the sentence before he cursed himself to the bottom of every sea between the poles, for the use he had made of his tongue. Alice fell lifeless upon the cabin-floor. The seaman shouted for assistance; and then, as he and the better-bred captain, who as the father of a large and estimable family was a more fitting nurse for the forlorn maiden, applied one restorative after another, she recovered animation at intervals. succeeded fit however; and then as the wind rose, and a brewing tempest called all hands on deck, the captain could only place her kindly in her birth, in the hope that the new excitement at hand might possibly be of service to his patient.

Fit

Alice was long inlasted for several craft in which she had but now been

The ship was driven widely out of her course. different to every thing around; but as the storm days, and finally threatened to destroy the stout sailed, the near prospect of the death for which she longing called all her religious feelings into action. She felt that she was the child of destiny: her gentle piety would not allow her to wish for a sudden and violent death, though the peace of the grave was what she most desired. She prayed then not for life, but for an escape from its horrors; alike from those which raged in the angry elements around her, and those which warred so fearfully in her own bosom.

Weeks elapsed before the vessel reached the haven, of which she had once been within a few hours' sail. The missionary girl had appa. rently recovered from all bodily indisposition, and her features were

again as calm as ever; but it was the calmness of rigidity and not of peace they wore. It was a sacrifice of herself to Heaven she had me. ditated originally. "And why," exclaimed she mentally, "why should I shrink from the offering now, when Providence has enabled me to make it richer and more abundant-to make my soul's triumph more complete, as its trial is more bitter and severe !" Still, when the isle of her destination hove in view, it was with a shudder that she first looked upon the shore, and thought of the fate that there awaited her. Woman's heart is a strange, a wayward thing. In many a bosom its strongest chords are never touched by the hand to which it is yielded. It is often bestowed with faint consent on him who seeks it-bestowed in utter ignorance of the power of loving-the wealth of tenderness it hoards within itself;

"Circumstance, blind contact, and the strong necessity of loving,"

will afterwards mould it to its fate and prevent repining at its choice; but when once its hidden strings have vibrated and given out their full music-when once its inmost treasures have been disclosed to its owner, counted over and yielded up with a full knowledge of their worth to another-when "the pearl of the soul" has been once la. vished in the mantling cup of affection, it revolts from all feebler preferences, and it is true even in death to its one only love.

The missionary soon came on board to claim his bride. He was a plain and worthy man, with nothing to distinguish him from the members of his profession in our country, who mistaking the prompt. ings of zeal for the inspiration of a special calling, and who without minds matured by experience or enlightened by education leave the plough or the shopboard to become the instructors of those who, with feelings as sincere as their own and understandings far more exercised in knowledge of good and evil, are expected to bow to their narrow teachings-to receive them, not as humble soldiers of the Cross need. ing guidance like themselves but as the captains and leaders of the church militant, armed in full panoply-a living bulwark against its foes.

Alice Vere had but little experience in society; but the quickening power of love had lately called all her dormant perceptions of taste and feeling into play, and a very brief interview sufficed for her to read the character of her destined husband. She felt that she could never love him. Respect him she did, as she would have done the humblest brother of her faith; and had she never known what love was, her regard would perhaps not have been withholden in time; for every woman loves the father of her children, if he be not a creature to be abhorred. But if there be an agonizing thought to a girl of delicacy and sensibility, it is the idea of becoming a bride under such circum. stances as surrounded poor Alice Vere-the thought that her heart shall beat against the bosom of a stranger, when its every pulse throbs for another. Still a high, imperious duty as she believed constrained her, and she prepared to resign herself to her fate.

The nuptial day arrived. It had been arranged that the master of the vessel, on board of which Alice, wistfully lingering, had begged to remain, should perform the ceremony, agreeable to the laws of the state of New York, by which marriage is merely a civil contract, requiring only a formal declaration of the parties before competent witnesses; Mr. T himself commenced the ceremony by a prayer, which as

giving solemnity to the occasion was perhaps most proper in itself; but it was painfully long, and seemed to refer to almost everything else but the immediate subject of interest. At length the bride, whose languid limbs refused to sustain her so long in a standing position, sank into a seat, and the missionary glancing a look of reproval at her abruptly concluded his harangue. The worthy seaman was more expeditious in getting through with his share of the office. He merely asked the parties severally if they acknowledged each other as man and wife. The missionary made his response in the affirmative with a slow and grave distinctness; but Alice faltered in her reply. A tumult of feelings seemed oppressing her senses for a moment; she looked to the untamed forest, whose boughs waved unfettered on the shore, to the broad main that spread its free waves around her, and the wild bird that sported over its bosom.

"Then she turn'd

To him who was to be her sole shelterer now,
And placed her hand in his, and raised her eye

One moment upward, whence her strength did come."

The certificates, which had been previously drawn up, being then signed and witnessed, the missionary concluded with another homily; and the crew, who had been allowed to collect upon the quarterdeck during the ceremonial, dispersed over the vessel.

It was now sunset, and as a heavy cloud which threatened rain brooded over the island, the captain politely insisted that Mr. Tshould not think of returning to the shore, but take possession of his own private cabin. The rain soon after beginning to fall in torrents, drove those on deck below. Here the mates claimed the privilege of having a jorum of punch to drink the health of the bride, and the captain being willing to unite with them, Alice was compelled to retire to the new quarters which had just been provided for her; while the festive seamen insisted upon keeping their clerical guest for a while among themselves. Their mirth soon become so uproarious as to mock the tempest without, when a sudden squall struck the vessel, carrying her over, even as she lay at anchor under bare poles, upon her beamends. The seamen, followed by the missionary, rushed to the deck, where the glare of the lightning, as they looked to windward, revealed to them a female figure standing upon the taffrail, with arms outstretched towards a huge wave that lifted its over-arching crest above her, and threatened to ingulf the vessel. A cry of horror escaped the revellers, the bridegroom breathed a prayer as he clung to the rigging for safety; and then, as the descending sea righted the vessel, a suffocating moan was heard above the surge that swept the body of Alice Vere like a drift of foam across her decks.

The morning came at last, the sun rose serenely, the bright waves rippled joyously beneath the stern of the vessel, and their reflected light playing through the sloping windows of the cabin, glanced upon the un pressed couch of the Msssionary Bride. None could even tell how she had made her way to the deck in the midst of the tempest; yet none have ever whispered the sin of self-destruction against the lovely, the lonely, the ill-fated ALICE VERE.-Let this "ower-true" tale bear a sad and solemn warning.