KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



367 



Among novelists, first-love is mostly 

 pictured in the romantic troubles attendant 

 on clandestine affection. Far be it from us 

 to deny the loveliness of a young lady, 

 swinging from a balcony into the arms of 

 her lover beneath. Or the delightful dangers 

 attendant on secret meetings at some old 

 domestic's cottage. Or the perils of a mid- 

 night flight to Gretna Green, along roads 

 where every winding leads to an adventure. 

 This is fine and imposing for boarding-school 

 misses to read in bed ; but it is owing to the 

 caterers for love follies, that honorable love 

 has ceased to be regarded in its true light. 

 Fair and open first-love, in the calm and 

 chaste enjoyment of its unnumbered delights, 

 is far preferable to that boyish passion which 

 proves its sincerity in bribing servants to con- 

 vey billet-doux backwards and forwards. This 

 is not love,it is nonsense, or something worse. 



There is not a more grateful sight under 

 Heaven than two young hearts enlinked 

 together by the sympathetic bonds of love. 

 On the heart of the young man — whatever be 

 his station, birth, or fortune, pure love must 

 exercise a beneficial influence. It will open 

 the spring of new and delicious feelings. It 

 will animate his energies, because there is 

 an object whose eye will brighten at their 

 success. It will give him a relish for the 

 beauties of nature, and persuade him to con- 

 sider the world as not undeserving, since it 

 has produced such a heart as that which he 

 adores. It will, in short, be a second soul 

 to his nature ; and if he be a poet, love will 

 kindle the eye of fancy, nerve the wing of 

 imagination, and waft her into an ideal world 

 of loveliness and beauty. To him the moun- 

 tain, clad with the evening beams, and the 

 valley with its musical streams, the noontide 

 bower, or the twilight ramble — become inex- 

 pressibly sweet. And how congenial to his 

 heart are those meditative hours, when hope 

 and anticipation attend his pathway over 

 some green fields ; where, amid the enchant- 

 ing scenery around him, and the still luxu- 

 riance of an azure sky, he will muse over his 

 prospect in life. In the glowing influence 

 of the hour, he will picture the years to 

 come ; the home of love, and its domestic 

 smiles ; the energies he will awaken, the plan 

 he will adopt, and the duties he shall per- 

 form. The scornful smile of the worldling 

 will be raised at such fanciful enjoyments. 

 How dreamy and how trifling is the mind 

 occupied by such castle building ! Dreamy 

 it certainly is, but nevertheless delightful. 

 He is not to be envied, who cannot occasion- 

 ally break away from the selfish fetters of 

 eyery-day life ; and lose himself in an elysium 

 of fancy. To the young lover I would say, 

 make the most of these golden days ; snatch 

 from the hours all the raptures they afford ; 

 for the evil days will soon come in which he 



shall say he has no pleasure in them. This 

 period of life will pass away like the ripple 

 on a stream. Its fresh feelings and fond 

 enthusiasm will never return. The stormy 

 world will soon roll its billows of care and 

 disappointment over these dreams and 

 delights. The heart will grow callous, and 

 cold-eyed Prudence and jealous Care usurp 

 the thrones of Hope and Imagination. Let 

 the young lover, therefore, reap the harvest 

 of first -love's sweetnesses. And when the 

 dim eye of age shall hereafter recall them in 

 the soft hours of recollection, it will be glad- 

 dened to review them — though they have 

 vanished, never to return again. 



And what shall be said of that dear being, 

 to whom all his hopes and wishes bend ? 

 What is the effect of faithful first-love on 

 her innocuous heart? Her love is a second 

 self. The world seems made of him — his 

 spirit's influence for ever attends her steps ; 

 and where he has stood, fondness hallows 

 the ground. On her heart his image lies 

 pictured in admiration's brightest hues ; and 

 the tones of his voice, when absent, vibrate 

 on her ear, attuned- by fancy's sweetest 

 melody. Yes ! I see them in their rambles 

 at summer eve, wandering over hill and dale, 

 down briary lanes, and along yellow meads, 

 with health in their cheeks and love in their 

 eyes, and viewing the clouds, and fields, and 

 flowers, through the beautiful veil of love. 

 Or else, perchance, they are returning home- 

 ward by the moonlight beach ; and while the 

 billows are kissing and frolicking, and plating 

 their bosoms with beams, they are looking 

 into each other's eyes, and saying numberless 

 pretty things only meant for love's ear. Has 

 my reader ever experienced such harmony of 

 mind, such first-love ? If so, he has felt it 

 but once. And since then, all the banquets 

 and balls of formality have never yielded 

 such deep and unalloyed enjoyment. When 

 alone in his chamber, and turning over the 

 leaves of his by-gone days, no happier 

 moments have awakened at memory's touch, 

 than those past in the flowery spring of first- 

 love — THEY WILL NEVER COME AGAIN ! 



A PKETTY LOOK-OUT. 



Man is a curious animal, and requires per- 

 petual changes. No sooner is one wish gratified, 

 than another springs up. Is there any one^thing 

 capable of affording perpetual pleasure ? We 

 think so ; because it possesses unceasing variety. 

 What is it ? A pretty and intelligent face. Of 

 all other views, a man may, in time, grow tired; 

 but, in the countenance of a lovely woman, there 

 is a variety which sets weariness at defiance, 

 " The divine right of beauty," says Junius, " is 

 the only divine right a man can acknowledge in 

 this lower world ; and a pretty woman the only 

 tyrant he is not authorised to resist." — We will 

 not take upon ourselves to contradict so " high " 

 an authority as Junius. Be it, as he says! 



