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hen the heart surrenders, confirm the blushing promise quickly at the altar's foot!" is the adjuration of every enamored suitor, eager for the climax of the wedding-ring.

But the maiden who reflects will respond with no hasty "amen" to that fond prayer. Reflects? does not King Oberon still walk the earth, performing as fantastic and amazing feats with his magical flower as in the days of Bully Bottom? And did woman ever reflect after the fairy monarch had stolen upon her slumbers and pressed the juice of his purple blossom upon her folded lids? The portals of her heart open with her eyes, when the latter have once received that mystic flower's touch, and the eyes take in and the heart enthrones the being first looked upon. Let him wear what shape he may, he is transformed and glorified to her vision by Love's glamor. That moment Reason is unceremoniously thrust out of doors. In vain she clamors to be heard, and warns the infatuated fair one against precipitancy;