enlightened as at present. The rays of a dawning civilization are not now confined to a single nation-a light shining but the more brightly for surrounding darkness-they illuminate more than two continents, peopled by very many different nations. Those arbitrary distinctions, which have so long shackled the energies, and bound a large part of mankind to a degraded condition, here, at least, are broken; and the deep-toned mutterings which are wafted to us from across the Atlantic, portend a storm, which will sweep away all traces of such distinctions, and place men there, as here, upon an equality of political rights and privileges. Already the mass of men, everywhere, are better off, politically, than ever before, and their condition in this respect is still improving. The paths of honor and distinction are open to all; success in every pursuit awaits the deserving. This state of things has given energy to every branch of industry, and is powerful in elevating the social condition of mankind; its legitimate effect may be seen in the highly cultivated and improved appearance of the face of the countryin the happiness and prosperity of the people. The means of education are not only within the reach of all, but by some nations, most backward in other respects, are forced upon all. Knowledge, through some of its many avenues, will find entrance to every mind; men can no longer be as ignorant as they have been in times past ;-the present is eminently an age of mental activity. The religious and moral aspect of the present is such as is becoming to nations who worship the true God, and base their laws and government upon the Bible;-the innumerable churches and benevolent institutions, scattered over all lands, are true indices of improvement. A spirit of enterprise characterizes all the movements of the present, animating alike individual and organized efforts; it extends farther in every direction than the spirit of conquest with her sword, and is more successful than Roman legions, in opening the avenues of wealth, and binding "the uttermost parts of the earth" to the influence and prosperity of civilized nations. Christianity is coextensive with every other power, and possessed of the same indomitable spirit; wherever enterprising commerce may send her ships, or lust of gain can penetrate, there too will be found the Missionary, sowing the seeds of civilization, and dispensing the blessings of eternal life. These are some of the features of the present age, and they prove that it is one of general activity-of rapid advancement, in which all the energies and powers of man-all the resources and benefits of nature, are in progress of harmonious development.

It is common to attribute all great changes and improvements to this or that convulsion and revolution. We believe these to be rather the bubbles in the current of human progress, showing its rapidity, or the obstacles in its course. The superiority of the present has not been produced by the struggles and tumults of any particular age; nor is it the effect of any inherent quality, but it is chiefly owing to the combined advancement of all former nations; and its obligations are due to every period of the past, with which we have shown it to be connected. Could we, with chemical accuracy, analyze it, and examine

each separate element of which it is composed, we should undoubtedly discover many influences and agencies which had their origin in the first ages of the world, and having passed through an endless variety of combinations and re-combinations, are yet, in new combinations, active principles in the complex present-that every age has furnished some of the materials of which it is composed ;-still farther, that there is no day in the past seemingly the most unimportant-no thought or action, the most trivial, but that has had some influence in giving to the present its peculiar shape and direction.

FAREWELL.

FAREWELL! farewell!-oh! how lonely and cold

The heart from its fellow turning,

While gathering grief, and sorrows untold,

So wildly within are burning!

Farewell! farewell!-'tis the lover's last word,

So softly, so lowly spoken,

While the lingering sob, and moan unheard,
Are wrung from the heart-strings broken!
Farewell! farewell!-'tis the mariner's glee,
As over the waters dashing

He leaves his home for the dark roaring sea,
And the lightning brightly flashing!

Farewell! farewell!-'tis the hermit's last song,

The world and its sorrows leaving,

As coldly his eye is glancing along

Its beauties frail and deceiving.

Farewell! farewell!-'tis the last heaving sigh

Of brothers forever parting!

While slowly and sadly in every eye,

The tear of regret is starting.

Farewell! farewell!-from the mother's fond heart,

The last parting words are gushing,

When forced from her long-loved idol to part,

Stern duty her sorrow hushing!

Farewell! farewell!-with the dying man's prayer

"Tis a last fond token given,

While angels unseen are hovering there,

To carry the soul to Heaven!

Farewell! farewell!-life's pleasures are few,

For all things are bound to sever,

But death shall destroy, and death shall renew,

And parting shall cease forever!

C. J. P.

CLOUD-LAND.

"Plant divine, of rarest virtue."-LAMB.

DEAR, delicious Charles Lamb! "Poor Keats" himself must yield to thee in the "silver-throated harmony" of Nature. Purity and simplicity of soul are thine, and man is inspired from thee to strive for fresh Childhood of Heart. The blessings of that GREAT PLANT thou didst so wisely love, are emblematic of thy mission on earth. It was to mantle the heart with sweet influences against rude Poverty-to "pluck the fang from the serpent-tooth of Grief"-to rest the weary in soul. Then peace to thy ashes, Charles Lamb!

A trip to Cloud-Land! Who has not been there? Who does not love to revisit its scenes? Who has not striven to fix firmly in his memory its fleeting phantoms or portray its delicious sensations? And who has not partially failed? Yet the remedy is simple and sure. Write as you travel, and if you are thus hindered from seeing bright visions in their fullest glow, you may at least catch glimpses of some wandering forms before they pass away forever.

Prepare then for the journey. Take down your best meerschaum, and fill it from one of those open-mouthed packages hard by. From Scafarlatti, if you wish your fancy to speed with active foot-from German Meerschaum, S. W., if you would dream dreams. Already have you unconsciously assumed a luxurious position. Surrender yourself now to the guidance of those active little habitants of CloudLand-tiny elves of smoke, who seem to swarm from out the bowl of your pipe, or leap, chase, and tumble each other in hasty glee, from the corners of your mouth. You are in a strangely rising mood. With surprise, you find your feet, in obedience to the law, carelessly perched, level with your head, upon some table, or perchance, upon the top of that Olmsted, which blazes at you so fiercely with its single eye. An old traveler would now amuse himself in sending out delicate rings of smoke to eddy and wreath themselves away. In them he detects the dim, queer little faces of the Cloud-Land "boys," with intertwisted bodies and strangely-writhing forms, dancing a joyous, elfin measure. But this trifling is soon ended. And lo! the smoker moralizeth. Encircled by snowy clouds, he looketh down with contempt ineffable on bustling, earthy mortality, and, for the nonce, firmly abjureth "the world's low cares and lying vanities." He beholdeth the pale student, striving for high rewards and immortal fame-rewards, "the wonder of an hour"-fame, which lasteth a brief, college generation;-one day, listening to the sound of his own eloquent voice and the momentary applause of his classmates, the next, lying silent in the grave; and the smoker meditateth sadly on the vain flower-wreaths of knowledge. Most unaccountably, he never considereth them as grapes. He looketh upon the dullard, poring over incomprehensibilities, or the witling, as he affecteth genius; and before him riseth up (alas for his

imagination!) the idea of a huge alligator, lacerating his own jaws in furious snatches at a bladder, filled with-air.

At last we are in Cloud-Land. Heavy banks of smoke hide us from the world and leave us alone with the shades that come and go before our eyes. We are monarchs-more, we are Autocrats, and over beings of our own creation! Our subjects approach to do us homage, and curl about our faces with reverential curiosity. Take care! Let them not come too near, be not too familiar, or you may chance to indulge yourself in a cough or an unromantic-sneeze.

Now our

Our subjects still throng around us. Myriads of twisted, bending forms unite and wave before our eyes. Their heads are inclined, perhaps in homage, and then they jerk themselves back, as if ashamed to worship a being of lower earth. But soon they float away and their places are filled by crowds of gigantic, shapeless monsters. kingly fancy colonizes new regions. Shadows, dim and silent, toss in wild surges around. With half-closed eyes and still delight, we gaze upon the strangeness of Cloud-Land. We behold more horrible sights, wilder visions than even Robert Montgomery ever conceived; more wonders than Horatio ever "dreamt of in his philosophy." But suddenly they float away before a mightier one. He appears, almost enrobed in smoke: his vast limbs are dimly defined through the cloud. The expression of his face is hidden from us. By the long leaves wreathed upon his brow, by the roll in his hands, we recognize the Spirit of the GREAT PLANT. Is it Fancy or the Shade that speaks? His voice sounds in soft, sighing tones, like the gentle puffs which just part from lazy lips.

"I am the Universal Friend of Man. I have come from the poet's lonely"—

Ah! what is this? Cloud-Land disappears: the Spirit makes a horrible grimace and vanishes, without finishing his speech. Ugh! Your mouth is filled with ashes! Your pipe has gone out!

The Secundus, who perpetrated that fiendish pun on Tobacco, should be compelled to smoke "Anderson's" or "Yara" forever. He was lecturing to an unsophisticated Novus upon the manifold qualities of this Plant of Peace, (as he styled it,) and finally offered to demonstrate from Shakspeare, that Tobacco was musical. "How so?" cried astonished Novus. "Doth not Richard," replied the wretch, "mention this weak, pip(e)ing time of peace'?" Agonized, the Novus rushed, sneezing precipitately. Fact!

It was the GREAT PLANT, which Raleigh, the scholar, the wit, the Epicurean, first introduced: which the clergy of Virginia accepted in payment of their clerical services,-the blessings of earth for dispensing the blessings of heaven,-to which Newton thought a lady's fin

ger might not unworthily minister: which delights the sweet-mouthed Senoritas of New Mexico: which posterity links with the remembrance of Lamb. Well did he sing the pleasures of

a seat amid the joys

Of the blest Tobacco Boys."

Let not the shade of Cicero blush while we quote: "Hæc (sc. planta) adolescentiam alit, senectutem oblectat, secundas res ornat, adversis perfugium ac solatium præbet, delectat domi, non impedit foris, pernoctat nobiscum, peregrinatur, rusticatur." Then, fill up to the brim your-pipes, (these are temperance days,) and smoke to a sentimentTOBACCO! ΣΕ ΓΑΡ φιλέω.

UNCLE JOHN'S RULES FOR COMPOSITION.

My Uncle John was a man of profound learning; that is to say, he had been through college, had studied law, published a volume of poems, edited a newspaper, and written for reviews. Owing to the versatility of his genius, and the possession of a small independence, he never continued long in any department of business, but flitted about from one occupation to another, as he felt himself moved by the whim of the moment. He was always, however, a literary man; he read voraciously every new book, as it came from the press; he went to all the public lectures, and talked of hardly anything but authors, theories, works, and criticisms. His pen, moreover, was never allowed much of a furlough. He was perpetually in print, somewhere or other, as long as he lived. Among other things, he used to write extensive biographical notices of almost all the obscure individuals in his neighborhood, whenever they happened to die. It was perfectly surprising how many gigantic geniuses had, according to Uncle John's account, silently sprung up and flourished and passed away within the circle of his acquaintance, utterly unbeknown to the great mass of mankind. "Death, relentless Death, has snatched from earth another master-mind-Smith has fallen!!"-such, when he had an obituary subject on hand, was the style in which he generally commenced his article. Few, I believe, besides himself and his little coterie of friends, ever read his productions; consequently his ears were never pained by censure, while the compliments of those good-natured acquaintances, who knew his weak side, and were willing to take advantage of it, were liberally bestowed, and gave him inordinate satisfaction. It was wicked in me to trifle with him, for never beat in human breast a kinder heart than his, as none knew better than I. But I was fond of sport, and loved nothing so well as trotting him on his hobby. Of his literary powers, I professed the most exalted opinion. I flattered his vanity by the most exorbitant and open praise. I pretended to