I have in ‘my mind’s eye, Horatio,’ three (the number of the Graces, you remember) who may stand, each at the head of their respective orders. The one, were she arrayed in sylvan garb, and did she in her hand carry her bow, might with equal justice and propriety stand, the picture of Diana herself. Her figure is bold, her stature erect and tall, her presence queenly and commanding, and her complexion is clear and fair as the face of heaven on a May day, through which sparkles an eye of that indefinable hue, which is beyond comparison the most striking that can garnish the human countenance. The vermilion in her cheeks perpetually wears that ruddy, healthful tint, which one is accustomed to behold illumine, but for a moment, alas! the face of a city belle when she takes her annual ramble in the country, to revel for a period in the retreats of rustic life. If to these qualities you superadd that majesty of carriage and dignity of mien, which we would fancy the royal mistress of Antony to have possessed; together with that heroic and Grecian cast of countenance which the imagination unconsciously ascribes to the Jewess, Rebecca, when resisting the vile arts of the Templar--you have in my poor opinion the portraiture of ⸻. When I venture to describe the second of this beautiful trinity, I feel my powers of delineation inadequate to the task; but nevertheless I will try my hand at the matter, although, like an unskilful limner, I am fearful I shall but scandalise the charms I endeavour to copy. Come to my aid, ye guardian spirits of the Fair! Guide my awkward hand, and preserve from mutilation the features ye hover over and protect! Pour down whole floods of sparkling champagne, my dear M----, until your brain grows giddy with emotion; con over the latter portion of the first canto of _Childe Harold_, and ransack your intellectual repository for the liveliest visions of the Fairy Land, and you will be in a measure prepared to relish the epicurean banquet I shall spread. The stature of this beautiful mortal (if she be indeed of earth) is of that perfect height, which, while it is freed from the charge of being low, cannot with propriety be denominated tall. Her figure is slender almost to fragility, but strikingly modelled in spiritual elegance, and is the only form I ever saw, which could bear the trial of a rigid criticism. Every man who is gifted with the least particle of imagination, must in some of his reveries have conjured up from the realms of fancy, a being bright and beautiful beyond everything he had ever before apprehended, whose main and distinguishing attribute invariably proves to be a form the indescribable loveliness of which seems to --‘Sail in liquid light, And float on seas of bliss.’