nevertheless executed it with his never-failing skill. I have never known, but have always wondered what subject the sculptor chose to typify in the fleeting marble of the snowdrift. May he not have moulded an image of the god Eros, youngest, fairest, most remorseless of the Olympians, whose touch, like that of the snow, at once burns and freezes?
Margaret was commissioned to summon forth from the depths of a salt-mine its tutelary deity; and having once seen its face, to sculpture it on the living wall of its invaded domain. She visited the mine; and what she saw and learned there can be best told in her own words. We take the liberty of making an extract from Miss Ruysdale's private journal:—
PAGES FROM THE DIARY OF MARGARET RUYSDALE.