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When Julian was here last we went to see him. What a good creature Julian is; he seems to me the very personation of truthfulness and benevolence. I wish you could have heard his encouraging advice to that young Baron. Beside being unsophisticated and unassuming, he is nobly generous, frank, and straightforward as a sunbeam; united with the artless innocence of youth, he possesses the stirring energies of a man, and that uncompromising integrity which characterizes all his ways, must secure him success in any undertaking. He seems very much pleased with that little Miss A., but says he is not in a position to marry, so you see he is discreet withal.

Sometimes he brings up his guitar, and really he plays and sings with a great deal of taste. * ****

Well, it has at last come to this: they say I must get my home by making a book, and advise me to publish a little volume of my letters. Mr. C. and Mr. D. say they will help me all they can, and I am half a mind to undertake it. Do not say one discouraging word, for I have already too many fears to insure success. But never mind; I shall yet by some means have that little cottage, little parlor, little kitchen, and little cook, little carriage, little pony, little driver, and all that sort of thing. My amanuensis is laughing, -- I suppose she is thinking what gay times you will all have when you come to see me, and Mr. M. too, with his wife and fortune. Mr. B. better hurry up, for Mr. M. does not bring so many oranges here for nothing; besides, you know S. is very susceptible of the tender emotion. I hope neither of them will trifle with her feelings, for with her such an injury would be irreparable, as she is so inexperienced in such matters. I have just two things more to write you: first, I anticipate your visit to New-York, second, I hope it will be soon, and for the sake of euphony I will add a third; there is no good in this life that I do not pray may be yours. I have always told you more prosperous days will come; and I feel now that their dawning has begun. Put on your feet the sandals of sincerity, fastened with the buckles of integrity; bind about your heart the noble principles of Christianity; in a word, take up yourself just as you are, and go forth. If barriers are in the way, wait not to remove them, but, like the heroes of old, boldly tread hem down; and when the sun has crossed he sky a few more times, you will be in possession of what you so much desire.

You say my friend Sarah is beautiful; more than that, she is good. I have never known a young lady across whose mind the shadow of change so seldom falls. As you see her first, so she is ever after, joyous, kind and affectionate; Mrs. S., her aunt, is a very model of female excellence; and her son Willie is well worthy such a mother. But the rest of them are mortals like myself.

You and David must visit fast as possible. Try on each other's coats and hats, and exclaim, "What perfect fits!" pay each other compliments, as you gentlemen do, get angry, make up friends, &c. &c., then set your face eastward. I give you leave to stop in R., and say all the nice things possible to Miss M., only so you say them fast. But you and Sibyl need not flatter yourselves that I shall again sit quiet and let you two talk all the time; and spar, and cast out your leads to sound each other; not a bit of it. I knew you long first, and old claims should always be regarded; besides you are not to look at her while you talk to me either. I will leave it to David if I am not right, and not at all exacting.

I wish there was in this world one other spirit that now and then could fly off in tangent raptures, like poor Ned. Why, they might have all the ecstasies of seven worlds crowded into this one little terraqueous wheeling orb, and yet talk of brighter days to come. He has come home again from the South, with his head so completely turned with admiration for that little Creole, that he talks of her all the time, when not abusing his bad English.

Geneva, June, 1848.

COUSIN WILL: -- I have lived long enough to learn that things are not always what they seem. As ripples play lightly upon the smooth surface of a summer sea, while far below dark and turbid waters are waiting the storm-god to move them to fury, so a smiling brow, often conceals a storm of revengeful passion. Words of love and friendship often tremble on the lips, while curses nestle in the heart. So all through life, things are not what they seem.

A show of affluence is often as true an index of poverty, as want itself. The poorest of the metals is often mistaken for the richest coin; so by means of art and worldly tact, man may palm off his ignorance for knowledge, and his vice for virtue. So again, a man of wisdom, clad in mean attire, and surrounded by homely circumstances, may be as easily mistaken for the ignorant and unaspiring. When the motive is not known or appreciated, how differently the act appears; and we find ourselves to-day censuring a deed which to-morrow we may loudly applaud. Therefore, "Be not wise in thine own conceit," and "Judge not, that ye be not judged," are sayings worthy of all acceptation. The youth who to-day plays on the green with a herd of other ragged lads, observed but to be pitied, may in a few years contend honors with La Place and Newton, and read titles with Lord Rosse and the starry Le Verrier. MY DEAR MRS. SNOW. -- I have no "sightseeings in Europe" to picture you, no history of blood and tears to write, no storms of ocean, nor clustered beauties of Naples, and its rival bay Rio Janeiro to describe, nor ruins to paint, save those of a broken heart; among which the voice of buried love ever moans, like the sighings of decay amid fallen temples and mouldering castles.