“I see my error,” he exclaimed.  “Tell me what to do and I will do it.”

It was arranged that he should remain with me.  We worked together; he became happy and his mind no longer reverted to the past, but active and healthful employment engaged his hours.

When he had recovered sufficiently I took him to see his former companion.  He found her in a pleasant home, looking buoyant and happy.  All that was demoniac had vanished from her face.  Surprised, he burst into tears as he beheld her.  “Weep not,” said she, “for I am happy now.  The past is forgotten.”

They compared notes, and found that peace had entered into her soul when he had obliterated the past from his memory and commenced his labors in a new life.

Thus we see that the evil passions and attributes of one nature may awaken and kindle like passions in another, which can only be subdued by letting them pass unnoticed, and also by arousing the higher faculties into activity.

WASHINGTON IRVING.

VISIT TO HENRY CLAY.

Having recovered my health after a sojourn of two weeks amid the charming scenery of Mount Rosalia, or the “Rose-colored Mount,” I set forth one morning, accompanied by a competent guide, to visit the home of my friend, Henry Clay.  The morning was uncommonly fine, even for the sweet Land of the Blest, and the fragrance from the roses blooming upon the hill-side was fairly intoxicating.

Our phaeton was a small, white, swan-shaped carriage, ornamented with golden designs, and propelled by a galvanic battery in the graceful swan-head, which at my request took the place of the ordinary steed.

This was, to me, an exceedingly novel mode of travel, which my short sojourn in the spirit world had prevented me from before enjoying.

We glided over the electric ground with the speed of lightning and smooth harmony of music.  The road over which we rolled was white and lustrous as parian marble, and adorned on either side with most rare and beautiful forms of foliage; ever and anon we passed gay cavalcades and bands of spirits, who were evidently, from their festal garments, and the bright emanations which they diffused through the air, bound for some harmonial gathering on one of the numerous islands which dot the sparkling river Washingtonia, so named after George Washington.

The distance from the point whence I started, according to earth’s computation, was over one hundred miles; but though I desired my guide to move onward as slowly as possible, that I might enjoy the prospect before me, we reached our destination in less than a quarter of an hour!

I had received a special invitation from Henry Clay to visit him on this occasion, as he had called together some choice friends to give me welcome; yet, although I knew I was expected, my surprise cannot be described upon beholding the air filled with bevies of beautiful ladies, like radiant birds, approaching, with the sound of music and flutter of flowers, to receive me.  Thus surrounded and escorted, I was borne to the noble palace (for such it may be justly termed) of Henry Clay.