of weather. A perfect grand review; but you never can tell which end of the procession is going to move first. You fix up for the drought, you leave your umbrella in the house and sally out with your sprinklingpot, and ten to one you get drowned. You make up your mind that the earthquake is due; you stand from under and take hold of something to steady yourself, and the first thing you know you get struck by lightning. These are great disappointments; but they can't be helped. The lightning there is peculiar; it is so convincing when it strikes a thing it doesn't leave enough of that behind for you to tell whether-well, you'd think it was something valuable, and a Congressman had been there. And the thunder. When the thunder commences merely to tune up, and scrape and saw and key up the instruments for the performance, strangers say, 66 Why, what awful thunder you have here!" But when the myriads of beads and drops to prisms, that glow and hum and flash with all manner of colored fires, which change and change again with inconceivable rapidity, from blue to red, from red to green, and green to gold; the tree becomes a sparkling fountain, a very explosion of dazzling jewels, and it stands there the acme, the climax, the supremest possibility in art or nature of bewildering, intoxicating, intolerable magnificence! One cannot make the words too strong. Month after month I lay up hate and grudge against the New England weather; but when the ice storm comes at last, I say, "There, I forgive you now; the books are square between us; you don't owe me a cent; go and sin no more; your little faults and foibles count for nothing; you are the most enchanting weather in the world." baton is raised and the real concert begins, THE VISION OF MIRZA, EXHIBITING A you'll find that stranger down in the cellar, with his head in the ash barrel. Now as to the size of the weather in New England-lengthways I mean. It is utterly disproportionate to the size of that little country. Half the time when it is packed as full as it can stick, you will see that New England weather sticking out beyond the edges, and projecting around hundreds and hundreds of miles over the neighboring States. She can't hold a tenth part of her weather. You can see cracks all about, where she has strained herself trying to do it. I could speak volumes about the inhuman perversity of the New England weather, but I will give but a single specimen. I like to hear rain on a tin roof, so I covered part of my roof with tin, with an eye to that luxury. Well, sir, do you think it ever rains on the tin? No, sir; skips it every time. Mind, in this speech, I have been trying merely to do honor to the New England weather; no language could do it justice. But after all there are at least one or two things about that weather, (or, if you please, effects produced by it) which we residents would not like to part with. If we had not our bewitching autumn foliage, we should still have to credit the weather with one feature which compensates for all its bullying vagaries-the ice storm-when a leafless tree is clothed with ice from the bottom to the top-ice that is as bright and clear as crystal; every bough and twig is strung with ice-beads, frozen dew-drops, and the whole tree sparkles, cold and white like the Shah of Persia's diamond plume. Then the wind waves the branches and the sun comes out and turns all those PICTURE OF HUMAN LIFE. On the fifth day of the moon, which, according to the custom of my forefathers, I always keep holy, after having washed myself, and offered up my morning devotions, I ascended the high hills of Bagdat, in order to pass the rest of the day in meditation and prayer. As I was here airing myself on the tops of the mountains, I fell into a profound contemplation on the vanity of human life; and passing from one thought to another, Surely," said I, "man is but a shadow, and life a dream." Whilst I was thus musing, I cast my eyes towards the summit of a rock that was not far from me, where I discovered one in the habit of a shepherd, with a little musical instrument in his hand. As I looked upon him, he applied it to his lips, and began to play upon it. The sound of it was exceeding sweet, and wrought into a variety of tunes that were inexpressibly melodious, and altogether different from any thing I had ever heard: they put me in mind of those heavenly airs that are played to the departed souls of good men upon their first arrival in Paradise, to wear out the impressions of the last agonies, and qualify them for the pleasures of that happy place. My heart melted away in secret raptures. I had been often told, that the rock before me was the haunt of a genius; and that several had been entertained with that music, who had passed by it, but never heard that the musician had before made himself visible. When he had raised my thoughts, by those transporting airs which he played, to taste the pleasures of his conversation, as I looked thinner towards the middle, but multiplied and lay closer together towards the end of the arches that were entire. There were indeed some persons, but their number was very small, that continued a kind of hobbling march on the broken arches, but fell through one after another, being quite tired and spent with so long a walk. upon him like one astonished, he beckoned | but many of them fell into them. They grew to me, and, by the waving of his hand, directed me to approach the place where he sat. I drew near with that reverence which is due to a superior nature; and as my heart was entirely subdued by the captivating strains I had heard, I fell down at his feet, and wept. The genius smiled upon me with a look of compassion and affability that familiarized him to my imagination, and at once dispelled all the fears and apprehensions with which I approached him. He lifted me from the ground, and taking me by the hand, -"Mirza," said he, "I have heard thee in thy soliloquies; follow me." He then led me to the highest pinnacle of the rock, and placing me on the top of it, "Cast thy eyes eastward," said he, "and tell me what thou seest."-"I see," said I, "a huge valley, and a prodigious tide of water rolling through it."-"The valley that thou seest, said he, "is the vale of misery; and the tide of water that thou seest, is part of the great tide of eternity."-"What is the reason," said I, "that the tide I see rises out of a thick mist at one end, and again loses itself in a thick mist at the other?"-" What thou seest," said he, "is that portion of eternity which is called Time, measured out by the sun, and reaching from the beginning of the world to its consummation. Examine now," said he, "this sea, that is bounded with darkness at both ends, and tell me what thou discoverest in it."-"I see a bridge," said I, "standing in the midst of the tide.' I passed some time in the contemplation of this wonderful structure, and the great variety of objects which it presented. My heart was filled with a deep melancholy, to see several dropping unexpectedly in the midst of mirth and jollity, and catching at everything that stood by them, to save themselves. Some were looking up towards the heavens in a thoughtful posture, and, in the midst of a speculation, stumbled and fell out of sight. Multitudes were very busy in the pursuit of bubbles, that glittered in their eyes, and danced before them; but often, when they thought themselves within the reach of them, their footing failed and down they sunk. In this confusion of objects, I observed some with scimitars in their hands, and others with urinals, who ran to and fro upon the bridge, thrusting several persons on trap doors which did not seem to lie in their way, and which they might have escaped had they not been thus forced upon them. The genius seeing me indulge myself in this melancholy prospect, told me I had dwelt long enough upon it: "Take thine eyes off the bridge," said he, "and tell me if thou seest anything thou dost not comprehend." Upon looking up,-"What mean," said I "those great flights of birds that are perpetu. ally hovering about the bridge, and settling upon it from time to time? I see vultures, harpies, ravens, cormorants, and among many other feathered creatures, several little winged boys, that perch in great numbers upon the middle arches."-" These," said the genius, "are envy, avarice, superstition, despair, love, with the like cares and passions that infest human life." The bridge thou seest," said he, "is human life; consider it attentively." Upon a more leisurely survey of it, I found that it consisted of threescore and ten entire arches, with several broken arches, which, added to those that were entire, made up the number about an hundred. As I was counting the arches, the genius told me that this bridge consisted at first of a thousand arches; but that a great flood swept away the rest, and left the bridge in the ruinous condition I now beheld it. "But tell me further," said he, "what thou discoverest on it."-"I see multitudes of I here fetched a deep sigh: "Alas," said I, people passing over it," said I, "and a black "man was made in vain! how is he given cloud hanging on each end of it." As I looked away to misery and mortality! tortured in more attentively, I saw several of the passen- life, and swallowed up in death!" The genius gers dropping through the bridge into the great being moved with compassion towards me, tide that flowed underneath it; and upon far- bid me quit so uncomfortable a prospect. ther examination, perceived there were innu- "Look no more," said he, "on man in the merable trap-doors that lay concealed in the first stage of his existence, in his setting out bridge, which the passengers no sooner trod for eternity; but cast thine eye on that thick upon, but they fell through them into the mist into which the tide bears the several tide, and immediately disappeared. These generations of mortals that fall into it." I hidden pit-falls were set very thick at the directed my sight as I was ordered, and entrance of the bridge, so that throngs of (whether or no the good genius strengthened people no sooner broke through the cloud, i it with any supernatural force, or dissipated JOSEPH ADDISON. WILL WATERPROOF'S LYRICAL MADE AT THE COCK. O plump head-waiter at The Cock, How goes the time? 'Tis five o'clock. But let it not be such as that You set before chance-comers, No vain libation to the Muse, part of the mist that was before too thick for | but the long hollow valley of Bagdat, with the eye to penetrate) I saw the valley open- oxen, sheep, and camels, grazing upon the ing at the farther end, and spreading forth sides of it.-The Spectator. into an immense ocean, that had a huge rock of adamant running through the midst of it and dividing it into two equal parts. The clouds still rested on one half of it, insomuch that I could discover nothing in it: but the other appeared to me a vast ocean, planted with innumerable islands, that were covered with fruits and flowers, and interwoven with a thousand little shining seas that ran among them. I could see persons dressed in glorious habits, with garlands upon their heads, passing among the trees, lying down by the sides of fountains, or resting on beds of flowers; and could hear a confused harmony of singing birds, falling waters, human voices, and musical instruments. Gladness grew in me at the discovery of so delightful a scene. I wished for the wings of an eagle, that I might fly away to those happy seats; but the genius told me there was no passage to them, except through the gates of death that I saw opening every moment upon the bridge. "The islands," said he, "that lie so fresh, and green before thee, and with which the whole face of the ocean appears spotted as far as thou canst see, are more in number than the sands on the sea-shore; there are myriads of islands behind those which thou here discoverest, reaching further than even thine eye, or even thine imagination, can extend itself. These are the mansions of good men after death, who, according to the degree and kinds of virtue in which they excelled, are distributed among these several islands, which abound with pleasures of different kinds and degrees, suitable to the relishes and perfections of those who are settled in them; every island is a paradise accommodated to its respective inhabitants. Are not these, O Mirza, habitations worth contending for? Does life appear miserable, that gives thee opportunities of earning such a reward? Is death to be feared, that will convey thee to so happy an existence? Think not man was made in vain, who has such an eternity reserved for him." I gazed with inexpressible pleasure on these happy islands. At length, said I,- "Shew me now, I beseech thee, the secrets that lie hid under those dark clouds, which cover the ocean on the other side of the rock of adamant." The genius making me no answer, I turned about to address myself to him a second time, but I found that he had left me: I then turned again to the vision which I nad oeen so long contemplating; but instead of the rolling tide, the arched bridge, and the happy islands, I saw nothing Till all be ripe and rotten. I pledge her, and she comes and dips I pledge her silent at the board; And phantom hopes assemble; Thro' many an hour of summer suns, I kiss the lips I once have kiss'd; My college friendships glimmer. I ranged too high: what draws me down Into the common day? Is it the weight of that half-crown, I sit (my empty glass reversed), Half fearful that, with self at strife Lest of the fullness of my life For I had hope, by something rare, To prove myself a poet: But, while I plan and plan, my hair Is gray before I know it. So fares it since the years began, The truth, that flies the flowing can, And others' follies teach us not, Nor much their wisdom teaches; And most, of sterling worth, is what Our own experience preaches. Ah, let the rusty theme alone! We know not what we know. But for my pleasant hour, 'tis gone, 'Tis gone, and let it go. 'Tis gone: a thousand such have slipt Go, therefore, thou! thy betters went Hours, when the Poet's words and looks Nor yet the fear of little books But, all his vast heart sherris-warm'd So mix for ever with the past, Like all good things on earth! For should I prize thee, couldst thou last, At half thy real worth? I hold it good, good things should pass : With time I will not quarrel: It is but yonder empty glass That makes me maudlin-moral. Head-waiter of the chop-house here, I too must part: I hold thee dear For this thou shalt from all things suck But thou wilt never move from hence, Thy latter days increased with pence We fret, we fume, would shift our skins, Thy care is, under polish'd tins, Live long, ere from thy topmost head Long, ere the hateful crow shall tread Live long, nor feel in head or chest Till mellow Death, like some late guest, But when he calls, and thou shalt cease TENNYSON. POSITIVISM ON AN ISLAND. THE NEW PAUL AND VIRGINIA. The magnificent ocean-steamer, the Austra lasian, was bound for England, on her home ward voyage from Melbourne. She carried Her Majesty's mails and ninety-eight firstclass passengers. The skies were cloudless; the sea was smooth as glass. Never did vessel start under happier auspices. No sound of sickness was to be heard anywhere; and when dinner time came there was not a single appetite wanting. |