Mary ----'s wedding day! Poor lassie! I looked at the bright morning sun with pleasure for her sake. After breakfast, sat reading the poems of Willis, a young man, whose works, young as they evidently are, would have won him some consideration in any but such a thorough work-day world as this. I cried a good deal over some of this man's verses. I thought some of them beautiful; and 'tis the property of beauty to stir the wells of my soul sadly, rather than cast sunshine over them. I think all things are sad. 'Tis sad to hear sweet music; 'tis sad to read fine poetry; 'tis sad to look upon the beautiful face of a fair woman; 'tis sad to behold the unclouded glory of a summer's sky. There is a deep and lingering tone in the harmony of all beauty that resounds in our souls with too full and solemn a vibration for pleasure alone. In fact, _intensity_, even of joy and delight, is in itself serious; 'tis impossible to be fulfilled with emotion of any sort, and not feel as though we were within the shadow of a cloud.[68] I remember when first I recited Juliet to my mother, she said I spoke the balcony scene almost sadly. Was not such deep, deep love too strong, too passionate, too pervading, to be uttered with the light laughing voice of pleasure? Was not that love, even in its fulness of joy, sad--awful? However, perhaps, I do but see through my own medium, and fancy it the universal one. My eyes are dark, and most things look darkly through them. At about twelve o'clock Mrs. ---- called for me; and, escorted by her husband and Mr. ----, we rode forth to visit the island. We went to a pretty cottage belonging to Mr. ----'s father-in-law, Dr. ----. The day was still and grey--a pleasant day; there was no sunshine, but neither were there any dark shadows. My horse had been ill ridden by somebody or another, and was mighty disagreeable. Our ride was pleasant enough: there was not much variety in the country we passed through. Masses of granite and greenish basalt, wild underwood, and vivid bright-looking cedar bushes. The Hudson lay leaden and sullen under the wings of the restless wind. We stood to hear the delicious music of the water plashing against the rocky shore, which is the pleasantest sound in all the world. We then rode to a place ycleped Hell-gate,[69] from a dangerous current in the East river, where ships have been lost--and home through the mellow sunlight of a warm autumnal afternoon. Came in at a little past four. Devoured sundry puddings and pies; put out clothes for the evening; dined at five. My father dined at ----'s: I've an especial fancy for that man. After dinner, sat making blonde tippet, and strumming on the piano till eight. Drank tea, dressed, and off to Mrs. ----'s "small party, my dear." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *