 friendship for Louisa, admiration of great talents, an ardent desire to give those talents their full value, and the dignified pride she takes in restoring such a mind to its proper rank. By these she is actuated, as all her words and actions demonstrate.
Well, well, Oliver! She soars a flight that is more than mortal! But she leaves a luminous track, that guides and invites, and I will attempt to follow. Thou shalt see me rise above the poor slavish wishes that would chain me to earth!—
Oliver, my mind, like a bow continually bent, is too much upon the stretch. Such is the effect of my situation, of

which my thoughts, my language, and my actions partake. But I will calm this agitation. Fear not: thou shalt find me worthy to be thy friend, and the pupil of thy most excellent father.
No! I will not, Oliver, be a child; though the contest be indeed severe. By day I am with her; for hours I listen, while she sings, or plays, or speaks. I am a witness of her actions! Her form is never absent from me! The sound of her voice is unceasing harmony to my ears! At night, retiring to darkness and thought, I pass her chamber door! In the morning again I behold the place where all that is heavenly rests! I endeavour after apathy. I labour to be senseless, stupid, an idiot! I

strain to be dead to supreme excellence! But it is the stone of Sisyphus, and I am condemned to eter—!
Indeed, Oliver, this weakness is momentary! Indeed it is—Fear not: thou shalt find me a man; be assured thou shalt. Though the furies, or, worse than all that invention can feign, the passions throng to assault me, I will neither fly nor yield. For to do either would be to desert myself, my principles, my duties.
Yet this encroaching spirit that I told thee of?—But then, what is the strength of him, compared to hers? What is there to fear? What do I fear? Why

create horrible shadows, purposely to encounter them?—No: it cannot be!
Farewell.
F. HENLEY.


ANNA WENBOURNE ST. IVES TO LOUISA CLIFTON.
London, Grosvenor Street.
YOUR brother has gained his point. The deed is done. My consent is given. For, in reality, to have withheld it would have had more the appearance of a coquette than of the friend of my Louisa. After sufficiently strong hints in the
