sition to be as bright and sunshiny as her name, therefore she would be just the woman to please him. It was partly to discover the name and residence of his "soul's idol,” that his intended destination was NewYork, and it was with a heart full of hope and pleasing anticipations, that he boarded the splendid steamer Crescent City, bound for that port. After a speedy and agreeable voyage he arrived at the "Commercial emporium of the Union," and was soon established at the Astor House. Having with him a letter of introduction from a gentleman of Charleston to Capt. Coleman, that "Prince of Hosts," he received him like an old friend, and their acquaintance soon became a mutual pleasure.

Eugene spent a fortnight perambulating the city, and visiting the many places of amusement; and then thinking that he might discover his inamorata by seek ing N. P. Willis, who is said to know nearly all the literary characters in Christendom; he called upon him, and on our hero's propounding the question, this gentleman promptly told him that the lady who wrote under the signature of Corinne Sunshine, was a Miss Julia Tennyson, daughter of Dr. Tennyson of La Fayette Place; but unfortunately for Eugene, Willis was not personally acquainted with her; so that to gain an introduction was yet an impossibility. But "as hope springs eternal in the human breast," the young man, on his way back to the hotel, endeavored to contrive some mode of obtaining a sight of the lady, that he might know at a glance whether his ideal was

embodied in her. At last a thought struck him, and the next day he acted upon it. It was this: he bought at Stewart's an elegantly embroidered pocket handkerchief, and immediately proceeding to La Fayette Place, mounted the steps and rung the bell of No.

The door was opened, and he inquired of the servant if Miss Tennyson was at home. Replying in the affirmative, she ushered him into an elegant parlor, and on asking his name, he replied that he was a stranger. The girl looked curiously at him for a moment, and then disappeared. Imagine his feelings -in the very house of his ideal-momentarily expecting her appearance, discomposed and agitated; but he felt he must be calm, or how was he to carry out his little piece of deception ?

The long wished for moment arrived. Miss Tennyson stood before him—a creature of such exquisite loveliness that his eyes were dazzled, and for a moment his tongue was paralized. He could only bow, which she returned with stately grace, and asked, in a voice sweeter and softer than ever before dwelt upon his ear, ear, what was the object of his visit.

Finding at last his utterance, he said, "Pardon my intrusion, but I found this hankerchief with your name upon it in an omnibus, and I could do no less than return it to you."

The young lady took the article in her hand and replied, "It is indeed my name, but sir, the handkerchief is not mine, it must belong to some other person; it is strange."

"So it is," echoed Eugene, (slightly blushing as his conscience reproved him for his deception,) "I was not aware there could be another lady of the name of her of whom I have heard so much."

"Perhaps," said Julia, smiling, "it was the other lady of whom you have heard."

Eugene shook his head-"No! But since it is not yours, excuse my intrusion."

"Not at all," replied Julia, politely, as the young man bowed himself into the street; and when the door closed he thought darkness had fallen upon the earth, for the vision that enlightened his soul for a few moments was no longer visible.

Our hero had now gained one object; he had seen his ideal, and found her to surpass his wildest dreams. She was apparently about nineteen, above the medium height, possessed a slender and graceful form, a sweet, soul-breathing countenance, large, liquid brown eyes, and hair of a glossy chestnut, that fell in a profusion of curls around her face and finely formed neck. Her beauty was of that rare kind formed to last for ever; if not in the world, in the hearts of those that bore its impress. It was so with Eugene; for weeks after, wherever he went, that vision of loveliness was before him; it was the theme of his meditations by night and by day.

One afternoon in the second week of June, our hero paid a visit to the Academy of Design, that place "where lovers oft do congregate," and while there, was surprised and delighted to meet Miss Tennyson,

who was accompanied by an elderly lady. She did not appear to observe him as he stood at a distance, drinking in her beauty with all his soul. Then, as she moved on, he followed, still at a distance; for the time, entirely regardless of the magnificent paintings around him, as his whole mind was absorbed in the living picture. At length she stopped at a design that seemed to please her extremely, and Eugene gradually drew nearer. The painting was called the “Declaration :” it represented a young man standing by the side of a lovely girl and holding her hand; with love, tenderness, and anxiety depicted in his countenance, while she, with downcast eyes, and timid heart-revealing look, showed that his wishes would meet no refusal.

"Ah!" sighed Eugene to himself, "would that I and the lovely Julia were in the same situation, and that I were as sure of success as that young man.”

Miss Tennyson at length exclaimed, as if unconsciously, "Beautiful! beautiful!"

"Beautiful, indeed!" echoed young Buckingham. The young lady started and turned around. As but her eyes fell upon him she seemed embarrassed, made no sign of recognition.

"Excuse me, Miss Tennyson, I did not mean to intrude." She made no reply, but bowed and passed on. Eugene remained where he was, and shortly af ter, saw by a side glance that she was leaving the room. Having now nothing to interest him, he soon retraced his steps to his hotel. On the way he soliloquized as follows:

"Here I have been for a month without making her acquaintance; and how that acquaintance is to be made I do not imagine. She treats me so coolly too-I wish I could obtain an introduction-unfortunately I know no one that is acquainted with her. I regret that I left my home in the 'sunny South' on this Quixotic expedition-I almost despair-but no! I will not! 'Perseverance' is my motto, and I believe in the old adage, that the darkest hour is just before. day,' therefore I will try again."

As he entered the Astor he met his friend Capt. Coleman, who addressed him with, "Ah, my young friend, so you have been walking out; I have got something for you." And he handed him a beautifully embossed note, which Eugene took and read as follows:

"Mr. Buckingham's company will be agreeable this evening at No., La Fayette Place."

The astonishment and delight of our hero cannot be expressed. He stood and stared at his friend without a word.

"Ha! ha!" laughed the Captain, "what is the matter?"

"Is this a hoax?'

"A hoax? no; what put that in your head?" "I am not acquainted with anybody in that quarter."

"What of that, if they wish to be acquainted with you. The fact is, my dear Buckingham, I have said so much about the 'young Southerner' to Dr. Tenny