little connected with that humility which | Let us at the same time acknowledge that in its better forms it breathes a spirit of more genial humanity, and manifests a truer reverence for the moral and spiritual capabilities of our race, than it once did. Even its poetry and fiction now plead for social amelioration. Its daily labors send light into the dark places of crime and immorality, and it causes its voice to be heard as it cries aloud in behalf of the poor and down-trodden. Would that we could see in it a due appreciation of the origin and causes of those ills under which mankind still groan! Would that it dealt more wisely and anxiously with the reconstruction of institutions on which it draws a displeasure that may prove simply destructive, that it probed with searching hand the great spiritual disease that affects our whole race, and that it saw with earnest heart and taught with impressive power the utter insufficiency of all social palliatives and all political reforms which do not include as their ground and ultimate aim repentance toward God ! is the ground of all our virtues, that a busy and anxious pursuit of it often excludes views and reflections of infinite importance and leaves but little time to acquire that treasure which would make us rich in deed. I was inclined to think that a wish for personal distinction, a desire of providing too abundantly for their children and a powerful habit of accumulation are the motives which commonly actuate men in the acquisition of great wealth. The strenuous endeavors of many persons to vindicate this pursuit, on the ground that the idea of a competency is indefinite, and that the more we gain the more good we may do with it, did not make much impression upon me. I fancied that, in general, experience did not correspond with this plausible reasoning, and I was persuaded that a truly sincere mind could be at no loss to discern the just limits between a safe and competent portion and a dangerous profusion of the good things of life. These views of the subject I reduced to practice, and terminated my mercantile concerns when I had acquired a moderate competency. LINDLEY MURRAY. ALONZO POTTER, D. D. OCTOBER TWILIGHT. H, mute among the months, | Up from the valley; overlapping hills, Tipped by the sunset, burn like funeral October, thou, Like a hot reaper when the sun goes down, lamps For the dead day; no pomp of tinsel clouds Reposing in the twilight of Breaks the pure hyaline the mountains the year, Is yon the silver glitter of June's choral days song graves, Flow, hidden tears, and, sorrows deep, atone, For that dear past is dead whom grief hath slain, Yet green the grave where love so long hath lain, And roses bloom above one time-washed stone. O days and months and years that are to be, What gifts bring ye, sad fruits of grief and toil? What treasures from the unrelenting sea? Heap high your riches, yield the victor spoil : Lo! at the grave of love, on bended knee, I pour as incense all my precious oil. ELLA DIETZ (Mrs. Clymer). INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY. Он, listen, man! A voice within us speaks the startling word, "Man, thou shalt never die!" Celestial voices Along those swelling mounds that look like Hymn it round our souls; according harps, By angel-fingers touched when the mild stars Where flowers grow thick in June, thy step Of morning sang together, sound forth still falls soft As the dropt leaves; amid the faded brakes The wind, retreating, hides, and, cowering there, Whines at thy coming like a hound afraid. EDITH MAY. THE GRAVE OF LOVE. The song of our great immortality; main, The tall, dark mountains and the deep-toned seas, Join in this solemn, universal song. Oh, listen, ye our spirits! drink it int STAND between two lives-a life that's 'Tis floating in day's setting glories; Night, gone, A life that's dead, yet died to live again: O unforgotten joys, remembered pain, Feed all my years with memory alone. Wrapped in her sable robe, with silent step Comes to our bed and breathes it in our ears: |