-

in its soil, and the sound of the anvil is in every part. Colleges and seminaries of learning are there. Railroads and canals, like veins of health, are gliding to its noble heart. The red man, in his original grandeur and state of nature, has passed away; and his bitterest enemy, the pale-face, is master of his possessions. I know these reflections are tinged with sadness; but are there not shadows resting upon all the past? Let us then cheer up and smile, for there is a star of Bethlehem above our heads.

O Michigan!" thou art my own, my native land," and I love thee tenderly. Thy skies are among the most gorgeous,

thy soil the most luxuriant, thy birds and flowers the

most beautiful, and thy animals the most And when I re

interesting in the world.

member that thou art but a single volume in His library, and that these things are the handwriting of God, my affection for thee becomes still more strong. I believe thou art destined to be distinguished and honored by the nations of the earth. God be with thee, and crown thee with his blessing!

MUSINGS.

"But how the subject theme may gang,
Let time and chance determine;
Perhaps it may turn out a sang,

Perhaps turn out a sermon."

Burns.

How impressive is the eloquence of silence! Sweet indeed is the voice of woman, the

fireside song of those, who are near and dear to us. Sweet the sounds of morning and evening twilight. Sweet the million melodies continually floating over the bosom of Nature. But there are hours in the life of every man when the music of silence is dearer to him than all. Even such an hour is it my present privilege to enjoy. The iron tongue of Time has told the surrounding darkness that midnight is upon the earth. I am in my room alone. A burning taper is before me,

but its light is too feeble to affect the distant "like a

objects.

How much does it seem

good deed in a naughty world"? I turn my face from the light, and, looking into some dark corner, my mind is led to wander in that mysterious world created by the genius of Dante. Soon, this little taper will flicker in the socket, and leave behind it a world of gloom. Is it not so with life?

Motionless shadows are upon the wall. To me, they have a peculiar language. They are the emblems of my most ardent aspirations and fondest hopes. A few days since I heard a man say, "next week shall I deliver my long thought-of oration in the presence of assembled thousands, make known what eloquence and genius I possess, and strive to win a name." That man is now stretched upon the couch of sickness, and his thoughts are changed. A dark valley is before his mind, and he is wondering whether he can pass its dangers in safety. What were his hopes, his ambition, but shadows?

How refreshing is the breeze which now

fans my forehead! it seems like the sweet breath of a guardian angel. It comes from the far south, and its birthplace was amid the leaves of the olive and palm. Since its departure thence it has wandered over many a woody dell and silver lake, and kissed the glowing cheek of many a lovely dark-eyed maiden. It is gone, gone to pursue its spirit-like wanderings in some other clime.

The chirping cricket has ceased its noise, and is asleep in its hiding-place. A little white miller is flying about the light, as though he thought it the most wonderful thing in the whole world. And this is not strange, because he came into being since the evening of yesterday. Dear little fellow, be careful, else your ignorance and curiosity will be the cause of your death. That shining pyramid, which you think so beautiful, is treacherous. Like many of the beautiful things of earth, it carries pain and destruction within its bosom. That's right, sweet creature, rest yourself and slumber, if you please, on the corner of that Holy Bible. He who

wrote that book is as much your Father, as He is mine. At this silent hour, and in this solitary place, you have come to minister to my delight. The thoughts which you have caused will make my rest this night more peaceful than it would have been but for you. The question is often asked,

insects as yourself created? I

why are such answer, to ac

complish some omnipotent end. God willed it that you should be born and minister for a few moments to my delight, and also to my instruction, by causing you to direct my thoughts to Him, who is infinite in greatness, holiness, and love. You have fulfilled the object of your mission. Good-by! I love you, and shall not forget your admonitions.

The light is out, — I am now seated at my window, gazing upon the city. There is such a calm in the heavens and upon the earth, I almost fear the world will never wake again. The ticking of my watch is the only sound I hear. How much more real wisdom may be gathered from this instrument, than from the lauded and far-fetched philosophy of man!