anxiously throughout the day; but at night she was as far from the Achievement of her object, as she would have been had that object never been proposed.
About half-past ten—being weary of the day—she retired to her chamber, and sat alternately listening and reading until twelve; when, everything both in and around the cottage being still as death, she prayed, and went to bed, im the full assurance of protection.
It has been said that there is no virtue in prayer, seeing that He, to whom we pray, knows our thoughts before we attempt to give them utterance; but who, having fervently prayed, has not felt his spirit etherealised, his mind more at ease, his heart lighter; inspired as he then must be with the conviction that, "putting his whole trust and confidence in Him," he has been in communion with his God? "Ask, and ye shall have!" involves a point of faith which teems with the most holy influences; and piety can no more exist without prayer, than prayer can be effective without piety.
Of course, it is not necessary to pursue this subject here: the only object of its introduction is, to hens how natural it was for Aunt Eleanor, having fervently prayed, to feel assured of protection; and, feeling thus assured, to go to sleep.
Sylvester at that time had been asleep nearly two hours; but having in a most enchanting dream fallen desperately in Jove with a Dryade, he dressed himself with care, and, on leaving the cottage, proceeded by appointment to the arbour.
But the Dryade was not there! He looked anxiously round; but no! What could be the cause of it? That she would keep her appointment he felt convinced, and therefore sat down to await her coming; but he had no sooner taken his seat than the scene in an instant changed, and he beheld in imagination a beautiful dell, in the centre of which he sat, upon a couch composed of moss and the still living leaves of wild roses. For a time his eyes were dazzled by this lovely scene, and he saw but indistinctly the objects around him; but anon he could clearly distinguish them all, and he turned with breathless wonder to contemplate their incomparable brightness and beauty. The dell was thickly studded with the sweetest and richest flowers with which the face of Nature teens; fruit of every conceivable species hung in clusters around, and while the herbs lent their fragrance to perfume the air, the mingled odours were delicious in the extreme. Above his head there were myriads of golden-winged butterflies joyously basking in the glorious sun; and, as the beautiful birds, whose plumage, reflecting every ray of light, shone with surpassing lustre, were floating around him and skimming the clear miniature lake, of which the surface was like polished silver, and carolling with all the wild sweetness of their nature: it was, altogether, the loveliest scene of which his fancy could boast the creation.
He had not, however, contemplated this scene long, when the warbling of the birds simultaneously ceased, and he heard in the distance, one—as he imagined—burst forth in rich strains of seraphic joy. The effect was ravishing. He listened with feelings of the purest rapture, and with feelings of rapture the birds listened too. How sweet—how en-
