That night I had a long and serious consultation with my wife, as to whether or not we really had any well-grounded reason for wishing to return to Europe. It would be childish to undertake a voyage thither simply because an opportunity offered for doing so. Neither knew to what decision the feelings of the other inclined; each was afraid of expressing what might run counter to those feelings; but gradually it began to appear that neither entertained any strong wish to leave the peaceful island; and finally we discovered that the real wish which lay at the bottom of both our hearts was to adopt New Switzerland as thenceforward our home. What can be more delightful than to find harmony of opinion in those we love, when a great and momentous decision has to be taken? My dear wife assured me that she desired nothing more earnestly than to spend the rest of her days in a place to which she had become so much attached, provided I, and at least two of her sons, also wished to remain. From the other two she would willingly part, if they chose to return to Europe, with the understanding that they must endeavor to send out emigrants of a good class to join us, and form a prosperous colony, adding that she thought the island ought to continue to bear the name of our native country, even if inhabited in future time by colonists from England, as well as from Switzerland. I heartily approved of this excellent idea, and on consultation with my sons I found that Fritz, whose interest in Jenny was most apparent, and Franz, who longed for school life, earnestly desired to return to Europe, while Ernest and Jack were more than willing to remain. Mr. Wolston, with his wife and elder daughter, decided to make New Switzerland their future home, and thus my wife and I were left far from solitary when our two sons parted from us. ECHO By JOHN G. SAXE I asked of Echo, t'other day, (Whose words are few and often funny,) What to a novice she could say Of courtship, love and matrimony? Quoth Echo, plainly,--"Matter-o'-money!" Whom should I marry?--should it be A dashing damsel, gay and pert, A pattern of inconstancy; Or selfish, mercenary flirt? Quoth Echo, sharply,--"Nary flirt!" What if, aweary of the strife That long has lured the dear deceiver, She promise to amend her life, And sin no more; can I believe her? Quoth Echo, very promptly,--"Leave her!" But if some maiden with a heart On me should venture to bestow it, Pray should I act the wiser part To take the treasure, or forego it? Quoth Echo, with decision,--"Go it!" But what if, seemingly afraid To bind her fate in Hymen's fetter, She vow she means to die a maid, In answer to my loving letter? Quoth Echo, rather coolly,--"Let her!" What if, in spite of her disdain, I find my heart intwined about With Cupid's dear delicious chain So closely that I can't get out? Quoth Echo, laughingly,--"Get out!"