Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CHAPTER III. There is something in the first early dawn of youth that wins for itself our especial regard- it appeals to us for our protection and care, and that very appeal has a louder voice than any other claim on our consideration can have. The rose is never so beautiful as when the modest bud lifts up its trembling dewy petals for the day-god's morning kiss?a little later, when, witfc wild unblushing front, it woos the gaze of every passer-by, although we may admire its bold beauty, yet who would wish to possessit for his own ? Thoughts such as these occupied the dreamy mind of Edward Sidney, as one bright spring morning he sat watching a merry group of olive-gatherers, as they clustered round the little wood fire, to partake of their morning's meal. He had walked far that morning, and was now waiting for the diligence to convey him to the little village of F?, in Sardinia, where he intended to pass some few weeks. He leaned against an old olive-tree, and his thoughts wandered bacK into the past. He was once again a child, listening to the gentle voice that had been, aye, and even now, was all the world to him. He looked out beyond the olive-gatherers, far far away, and listened till the notes of the well-loved voice fell clear and musical on his ear. Tiiey spoke of love, and trust, and faith, till the old heroic feelings came over him again, and he felt he would brave all, endure all, to be the man this trusting mother pictured her only son. Oh ! what a wondrous thing is memory? our blessing or our curse ! creating, at its wayward will within our hearts, a very heaven or hell! It may be as our dearest companion, our most cherished friend, bringing before us visions of evil conquered, and good achieved, of kindly words and gentle deeds, of sorrow soothed and mi...