High above all this hypocrisy, this intrigue, this selfishness and dissimulation, there was something more pure and good. It was love, pure and simple, binding the thoughts and hearts of Mattie Chapman and young Tite. That love which forgets everything else in its truth and purity, had been gently binding their young affections together. And now nothing could separate them. What sweet joys and touching sorrows are mingled with the wonderful history of love. How surely it marks its objects. It seeks its most precious captive in the strongest and bravest of hearts. Love has dethroned kings, built up empires, set great nations at war, and made statesmen weep with sorrow. Yea, it has made the mightiest to unbend, and brought them bowing before its altar. It holds its capricious empire in every heart, prompts our ambition, guides and governs our actions, makes us heroes or cowards, and carries us hoping through the world. It was love, then, that was holding its court on the occasion I am about to describe. It was one of those bright and breezy spring mornings, when Nature seems to have decked herself in her brightest colors, giving such a charm to the banks of the Hudson. The young, fresh leaves were out, and looking so green and crisp. The leak and the moss were creeping afresh over the rocks; wild flowers were budding and blossoming, and giving their sweet odors to the wind; birds were singing their touching songs; brooks rippled and murmured their mysterious music; and all Nature was indeed putting forth her beauties in one grand, sweet, soul-stirring harmony. How I envy the being who, free from the cares of the world, can elevate his soul by holding sweet communion with nature, at spring time. Earth has nothing so pure as the thoughts inspired by such sweet communion with the buds, the blossoms, and the flowers of spring. It was one of these soft, breezy mornings in early spring, I have said, that Mattie and Tite sat together in a little clump of woods, where the branches formed a sort of bower overhead, and overlooking the Tappan Zee. Every few minutes Tite would get up, advance to a point commanding a view of the river above, and gaze intently in that direction, as if expecting some object of interest. "She is not in sight yet, Mattie," he said, as he returned after one of these intervals. "But she will be down to-day, I know she will, and then we must part. Think of me when I am away, and I will think of you. Yes, Mattie, I am only a sailor now, but I shall see the world, and that's what I want, because it will make me something better. It will be three years before we meet again; three long, long years. But I will think of you and dream of you through all that time. And I will be so happy when the day of our meeting comes. Be good to my mother and father while I am gone. Be good to them for my sake. You will, won't you, Mattie?"