Mr. ---- came in the morning, and I settled to call down at eleven for Mrs. ---- to go to the fair. We drove to Faneuil Hall, a building opposite the market, which was appropriated to the uses of the fair; but the crowd was so dense round the steps, that we found it impossible to approach them, and wisely gave up the attempt, determining to take our drive, and then come back and try our later fortune. We drove down to the Chelsea beach. The day was bleak and cold, though bright, with a cutting east wind. After taking a good race along the bright creaming edge, we returned to the carriage, and drove into town again to the fair, which we managed at last to enter. The whole thing was crowd, crush, and confusion, to my bewildered eyes. We got upon a platform behind the stalls, and squeezed our way to Mrs. ----'s shop, where my father had desired me to buy him a card-case, which I did. I found ---- installed in her stall. ---- joined us, and Mr. ----, who drew me away to his wife's table, where I bought one or two things, and, having emptied my purse, came away. After dinner, Mr. ---- came in: he showed us some things he had bought at the fair. I thought the prices enormous, but the money is well spent in itself, or rather, on its ultimate object, and the immediate return is of no import. _Thursday, 2d._ After breakfast, went over to rehearsal; at half-past eleven, went out to ride: the day was heavenly, bright, and mild, with a full, soft, sweet spring breeze blowing life and health over one. The golden willow-trees were all in flower, and the air, as we rode by them, was rich with their fragrance. The sky was as glorious as the sky of Paradise: the whole world was full of loveliness; and my spirits were in most harmonious tune with all its beauty. We rode along the chiming beach, talking gravely of many matters, temporal and spiritual; and when we reached the pines, I dismounted, entreated for a scrap of paper, and, in the miserable little parlour of this miserable little mansion, sat down and scribbled some miserable doggrel to ease my heart. How beautiful the scene around me was! the bright boundless sea, smooth as a sapphire, except at the restless rippling edge; the serene holy sky looking down so earnestly and gently on the flowering earth; the reviving breeze, dipping like a bird its fresh wings into the water,--how beautiful all things did seem to me,--how full of witnesses of the great power and goodness that created them. Why is it that clouds ever come between us and God when there are seasons like this, when we seem to sit at his very feet,--when his glory and his mercy seem the atmosphere we are breathing, and our whole existence is lifted, for a time, into the reality of all we hope and pray for? Yet these are but passing emotions: they are not, indeed, the very spirit of God,--they are but reflections of his image, caught from the glorious mirror of nature. The sky becomes cloudy,--the sea stormy; the blossoming and the