THIS is a truthful sketch of the realities of life. Such traits of character as it exhibits are by no means so rare as might be supposed. They are of frequent occurrence, and a description of them will justify the "better half" of humanity from the foul and heartless aspersions resulting from the vitiated opinions of certain sour, prejudiced, misanthropic woman-despisers, and dwellers in the gloomy and desolate realms of singledom.

Mary C. had been called a coquette, and there were not a few of the envious ones of her own sex, and unsuccessful suitors for her hand of the other, who professed to believe the charge; but the accusation was false, as the sequel will prove. Like many others of her sex, who possess more than an ordinary share of attractions, she had numerous admirers, who manifested their prepossessions by often calling, either out of friendship, or from more interested motives. Some of these of the latter class, who had been frequent visitors at her house, but of whose secret intentions she could have no definite idea, at last declared themselves her admirers, and sought permission to address her with the ultimate object of marriage in view. To all such propositions, she gave a negative but kind and friendly response. But instead of treating her with the respect they had professed, and that her kindness demanded, they went away and cried "Coquette !" All the sex, less popular than herself, caught up the sound, and echoed it. Thus she came by the appellation; and in the same way many an innocent one has received the same unenviable reputation.

But Mary at last found a congenial spirit, one whose sympathies accorded with her own, and they loved-loved not as do the selfish

By the admission of this article, we are aware that there are some, who will accuse us of violating the pledge we gave in our first Number. But read that number again. We never designed to exclude the touching realities of life, if they were properly expressed and conveyed a good moral. We know an incident that happened in real life, quite as remarkable as that contained in this communication, which we intend, when convenient, to give to our readers. [EDITOR OF MAGAZINE.

and passionate, with a burning ardor that consumes itself by its own intensity or by satiation, but with that deep, calm, devoted affection, which grows stronger and deeper, and more confiding, as it increases in age. Such was their attachment - a union of soul, a blending of hearts, a feeling as allied them to God and angels; for it made them. better, happier, holier, and influenced them to aspire more and more after purity and heaven. It was the love which God approves.

Yet there were those who said, "He will soon find her out!" "She is only coquetting again!" and the like expressions. These came to his ear through the intervention of kind friends; (?) but he heeded not the warning, as it was termed. He knew, for he felt it, as it were a part of his own consciousness, that there was truth in the heart of his beloved. He never doubted for a moment the sincerity of her avowals; nay, he would quite as soon doubt his own soul. Matters stood thus when Walter M. was called away. We introduce them at the interview just preceding his departure. can imagine the absorbing interest of such an hour.

Looking up confidingly in his eye, she said:

The reader

"When away, you will not suffer the many evil reports and false warnings you have heard or may hear, to create and cherish doubts in your mind of my constancy, will you, Walter ?"

"No, dearest, these reports are powerless. I have long since learned their cause, and with perfect abhorrence do I detest the motives which gave rise to them."

"Thank you, kind Walter, for this renewed expression of your abiding faith. I will try to deserve it. I know I have many imperfections, but for your sake I will endeavor to become better and more worthy."

My dear, you are more than worthy now; I feel that I am an imperfect being and altogether less good than you; yet I love you truly, and from the inner depths of my heart I can adopt the language of the poet, who says:

"Should friends forsake, and "foes unite;"

Should slander aim its venom dart,

And seek thy spotless name to blight,

And wound thy truthful, loving heart;

Whatever evil may betide,

With constant faith I will abide,
With hopeful joy, and honest pride,

Till thou become my happy bride." "

The warm blood mounted to her brow at the allusion in the last line, but she felt happy and proud of such a lover.

"And I," she replied, "whatever may be the misfortunes of your life, will still seek a shelter at your side, a home in your heart."

Little did she know what was in store for them. They parted as lovers part, with tears, but in hope, and, if possible, more than ever trusting in each other. No sooner was he gone, than others attempted to fill his place in Mary's heart. She was persecuted with attentions from the other sex; but no one received any encouragement, and she was soon left to enjoy life in peace. Sweet moments, yes and hours, she enjoyed in reading Walter's letters, and in writing to him. His kind friends, he informed her, were very particular to let him know of all that was passing, and especially of every gentleman that chanced to call, giving their own coloring to everything; but he heeded them not, save in contempt. Thus matters stood, when, after a much longer delay than usual, Mary received the following startling intelligence from her lover:

66

JUNE 15, 18-.

"MY DEAREST MARY: It has been a long time since I wrote to you, and I fear you have been almost led to doubt my constancy; but you must not; I have desired to communicate with you above all things, but a Providential affliction has prevented me; and now, that I am but just able to sit at the desk for a few moments, I have. nothing but evil tidings to send you. While engaged in the duties of my calling as engineer, some of the workmen, through inattention, let a timber fall, which came very near opening a passage for my spirit to another world. I have been confined to my bed for three weeks. To-day is the first I have attempted to move about. I am too weak to write more at present. Do send me a letter soon! O, I want to hear from you so much! I hope I shall be well enough to visit you again soon, at least in a month. I think a little of your love and sympathy would cure me. I am, as ever, "Most truly, your own

WALTER."

With pain and pleasure, Mary read these lines. Her reply was alı

that an ardent lover could wish, full of tenderness and sympathy, and breathing the very soul of affection of pure, consecrated, holy love.

Another long period elapsed, and then she received the following:

"JULY 25, 18-. 'DEAREST: I am once more at home; but oh how sad! My dear mother and sister prop me up with pillows in bed while I pen a line, oh such a sad line! to absolve you from all obligation to me. Start not, once dear, still, more than ever, dear Mary. I am no longer what I was when you plighted me your faith, but a decided wreck of my former self. I can not think of retaining my claim upon you; no, no; for I would have you happy. You are free from our engagement from this hour. I resign your hand, and beg of you, for the sake of your own happiness, to forget me. My sister will give you the particulars of my sad situation. Adieu! a long and last adieu! beloved Mary! O, may you be happy, is the soul-felt prayer of "WALTER."

Mary wept many bitter returned the following

This scroll was written in an almost illegible hand, which told of the weakness and agitation of the writer. tears over it, and when sufficiently calm, in reply:

"HOME, August 2, 18—.

O, if you No visita

No, no; I

"DEAREST WALTER: Why did you write me such a sad letter? O, you can not think how much it pained me! Do you really think that any misfortune which could befall you, would absolve me from my vows? Do you think that I would desert you now, when you have so much more need than ever of my sympathy? have thought so badly of me, I pray you do so no more! tion of Providence, however afflicting, shall sever us. will ever cling to you, and your lot shall be my lot, your sorrows my sorrows, your joys my joys! Ah, you know but little of woman's love, if you think it fails in adversity! Believe me, dear Walter, it really wishes to suffer something for the loved one; and though my heart bleeds for your distressed situation, yet I rejoice that the opportunity is afforded me of proving the depth and devotedness of my affection. I will follow this letter in a day or two to see you, and become your nurse. Do not be surprised, I will explain all when I see you.

"Till then adieu.

MARY."

Conflicting emotions filled the mind of Walter when this letter came to hand. He was both pained and happy; and it would be difficult to tell what feeling was uppermost in his mind. But when, three days after its reception, the lovely Mary shed tears over him, he thought she was an angel of mercy sent to restore hope to his distracted bosom. But when she made known her wish to remain by his bedside and minister to his wants, he dissuaded her. She was firm in her resolve.

Ah, what will the world say?" he interposes.

'I know not, and care but little; it has always taken the liberty to attribute false motives for my conduct; it can hardly do more now."

Yes, but you shall never expose your spotless reputation for me." "I will not do so. But to satisfy you and all others, I wish to become your wife!"

"O, Mary! do you think what you are saying?"

"I do. I have reflected well, and my resolve is taken."

"But I may be an invalid all my days."

I care not, I will then nurse you all your days."

'O, I cannot think of permitting you to forsake all the pleasures,

and joys, and happiness of life.

No, no, you must not."

"I do not propose to do so. never could enjoy life with another, or separated from you."

I shall be most happy with you.

I

In vain he tried to dissuade her from her purpose. Her resolve could not be shaken, and at last he yielded. They were united. Solemn, indeed, was the ceremony. in eternity to one all of this world. of the devoted affection of woman All wept save the bride, and she seemed too happy to weep.

It seemed like uniting one half Never had such an expression been witnessed by any present.

Walter at last recovered with the loss of a limb; but he and the world never forgot the noble and disinterested conduct of his wife. Slanderous tongues were silenced; and they were, as they deserved to be, very happy. We believe there are many such women in the world as Mary; and that, generally speaking, constancy is a characteristic of the sex. Exceptions are the result of false education, in nine cases out of ten.

A. C. JAMES, Stereotyper, Cin.