opinion flowing from inexperience or a want of ability to read human nature aright.  Silently, freely, and with no biassing influence, in the unapproachable chambers of her own thoughts did she weigh the real character of Eaverson, as far as she could understand it, against what was merely external and personal.  The more marked the attentions of the young man became, the more earnestly did she seek to comprehend his real character.  Every word he uttered in her presence, every sentiment he expressed, every action and every look were closely scanned, and their meaning, as having reference to principles in the mind, sought to be understood.  Such careful scrutiny did not go unrewarded.  When Eaverson, soon after her mind was made up in regard to him, made an offer of his hand, the offer was unhesitatingly declined.  Sarah had seen enough to satisfy her, that with all his talents, beauty, and wealth, he was wanting in virtuous principles and a high sense of honour.

“I confess, that, with others, I was greatly surprised when the fact of Sarah’s having declined the hand of Eaverson became known.  The selection of her by one like him seemed so high a preference, and such a marked tribute to her worth and virtue, that it was scarcely credible that she could have remained indifferent to his love.  But she saw deeper than we did.”

“’I cannot understand the reason of your refusal to accept Mr. Eaverson’s offer?’ I said to Sarah, one day, when the conversation took a turn that gave me an opportunity of alluding to the subject.  ‘Do you know any thing against him?’

“’Nothing further than the conclusions of my own mind, arising from a careful observation of his sentiments, manners, and unguarded expressions,’ she replied.

“‘Was it from such conclusions that you declined his offer?’

“’From these alone, for I know nothing of his history before he came to this city, and nothing of his life since he has been here.’

“‘May you not possibly be mistaken?’

“’No.  From the moment he seemed in the least pleased with me, I commenced observing him closely.  It was not long before I heard him utter a sentiment, while speaking to another, that showed him to possess very false views of life in at least one particular.  This I noted, and laid it by in my memory for comparison with any thing else I might see or hear.’

“’But you would not condemn a man for having erroneous views of life?’ said I.

“’Oh, no; not if his principles be pure.  But if false views arise from a perverted heart, then I would condemn the man.  What I heard, I noticed in order to determine, if possible, from what source it came.  A very long time did not pass, before I saw something that told me very plainly that the false view which I have mentioned depended more upon a perversion of the heart than an error in the understanding.  I likewise discovered, very soon, that when in conversation with me, he was, evidently, more upon his guard, as to what sentiments he declared, than he was when in conversation with others.  But I need not state particularly the whole process by which I arrived at conclusions sufficiently clear to warrant my full and prompt rejection of his suit.’