woes.

stocks and horses and sonnets and French, who are not guests, but who seem perfectly at home, are to be met with also. Of course, in such a brilliant assemblage, you will find a sprinkling of widows. They seek these gay scenes to forget their sorrows and temper their Your kindly observant eye will detect them by the shadows which linger upon them, and by the touching sadness which restrains. their smiles and mellows their voices. Widowhood is so interesting that I once told my wife that I could think of but one woman in the world who would not be rendered more attractive by it; at which remark she smiled so sweetly as to incline me to question even the one exception; but observing that the little sufering darling seemed for the moment endued with new hopes of health and life, I upbraided myself for entertaining the impious shadow of a doubt, and determined repentantly to put it away forever. If they sometimes appear a trifle too gay, it must be accounted for by the general pressure of their afflictions. The human

heart is happily so constituted that every
weight will not always keep it down. It
has an affinity for zephyrs and sunshine, and
will sometimes float up to the rippling surface.
The same machinery which crushes out tears
of bitterness, distils delicious nectar.
know how Burns puts it:

Chords which vibrate sweetest pleasure,
Thrill the deepest notes of woe.

You

It were a wonder if Job, considering his desolate life of celibacy, had not some spice of asceticism; but no human being ever heard him whisper a disparaging word of the sorrowing widows. If any one class of men more than another be attracted by them, it is that unfortunate one which has always suffered for the want of that sweet use of the emotions which widowhood mourns. They are mutually attracted and mutually sympathize. They meet upon common ground, and naturally mingle their woes. In the solace of companionship are compounded all losses and all wants. The

saddest memories are dissipated by coveted substitution, and the long-suffering hopes are sublimed in fruition. If the satirical world sometimes laughs at the companionship, the spirits of just men and lost sweethearts rejoice over it. If there be one transcendent cause of ecstasy to departed husbands revisiting these earthly shades of trial and affliction, or one enduring, unexpressed desire of happy wives. to make them wish to linger in them, it may be found in the final happiness of mourning consorts and sighing lovers. Goldsmith, of all the poets, is Job's admiration; but he never praises the Traveller or the Deserted Village without a qualifying allusion to an ill-natured passage in the Citizen of the World. That stain upon the fair fame of the immortal Goldy will too readily occur to you; and you have no doubt wished a thousand times you could blot it out. A poor widow had, in a moment of paroxysmal grief, declared she would never marry till the earth was dry over her husband's grave. A sober second

thought naturally soon occurring to her, the poet describes her at the fresh mound, with a great fan in each hand, heroically summoning all the breezes to hasten her happiness.

It

Some of these unfortunates are reported. fabulously rich, which does not seem to discourage attentions. Even the mysterious gentlemen referred to, who kindly contribute their presence and charms at this hour, seem rather to seek than to avoid them. As a class they unselfishly go about doing good, and humanely take a hand in lifting, wherever found, the superincumbent burdens of humanity. would warm your heart to see with what disinterestedness they turn from other and more grateful services to smile away the shadows which linger upon these desolate ones. Themselves cheerful and happy, and perfectly free from material burdens, they naturally seek to illumine the dark passages of those who are oppressed and despairing. The distresses of widowhood, with the cares of wealth superadded, have the need of the sweet sympathies

which places of this sort so conveniently supply. Notwithstanding, the sorrowing creatures seem reluctant to yield their tenacious fidelity to cherished memories and investments, since all the efforts of importunate and sympathizing suitors fail to entangle them into new alliances. They linger from year to year in these haunts of pleasure, and hear continually the gushing vows of devotion, and still remain obstinately wedded to their desolation and cares.

The graceful creature just now acknowledging the reluctant compliment of the gentleman with eye-glasses, has made for years the tour of the watering-places, and has the same touching serenity of inconsolableness which she displayed so meekly when I saw her at Newport the summer my wife and I made our first visit. She passes yet for twenty-five, so gently has time dealt with her graces of person and character. How many tempting offers of affection and protection she must have declined in that time. Many a noble man, no doubt, has generously proposed to employ all her