with attention as at the sacred well of Rabelais, and faithfully obeyed in his admonition to "trinc, trinc, trinc!" Nature is pliant and pliable: stubbornness of character has not superceded instinct; and, though neither man nor child can walk alone, they are not too proud to receive aid and support in their helpless condition. Tuesday. The leading-strings and rocking-chair are gone. We can not only walk, but we can run. Green are the fields beneath our feet, clear is the firmament above our heads; and, lo! the butterflies of spring are dancing and careering before us in the lightsome air. This is our day to give them chase. Most escape; but some are caught, of fragile frame and evanescent hues. We hug and admire our treasures, our first victories in life, the bright rewards of our first exertion and perseverance. The flies are our own. Pity 'tis that the moment of their seizure is the moment of their destruction. Wednesday.-Ah, how different is the pursuit to-day, yet how much the same! and how little have we learnt by the lesson of yesterday! Love has sprung up in the bosom, and woman is the object of our desire. The purple light of passion enshrines the visible world with a haze, a color that imparts at once a depth and a glow altering the form and aspect of all things. From one grand and pervading idea within the heart emanates that strange medium which encompasseth whatever the eye beholds, or the senses endeavor to appreciate. In love, by love, with love, through love, the conversion is complete; and the mid-day of life's week is a wonderful phenomenon. But, alas! as on the preceding day, there are many disappointments. Alas! still more; in some instances the triumph is attained. Soon does the purple light become grey, and the visible world return to its own plain and sombre shapes. The butterflies have mouldered into dust; and their successors. But let us proceed to Thursday.-Ambition fills the soul. The lethal strife of war; the struggle for pre-eminence wheresoever the mind and tongue of man may be engaged in intellectual conflict; the fierce contention for superior wealth, or power, or fame; the emulation for a place for self, however small in extent, and little in advance; such are the darker efforts of the second mid-day. There is yet a stir in the blood, an excitement in the stormy game, a glory in the final success. If we are not happy, we are busy: if we have no time for enjoyment, we have as little time for discontent. The fires of hope, so far from being extinguished, continue to burn, perhaps more steadily than before; and toil and pleasure, and chagrin and expectation, and failure and stimulus, pass our Thursday hastily away. Friday.-Avarice, cold, bloated, and selfish, succeeds to the sole. command. The greedy is more ravenous; the miser more unnatural; the liberal, parsimonious; and the very prodigal, saving. Gold is the idol of this period; the dross which cannot smooth, but makes the bed of sickness an uneasy bed of care, though it may gild the gaudy coffin, and plume the showy hearse. The voice of wisdom has ceased to have the slightest influence over the mind of besotted He grasps with the greater energy at what is the more useless, as he must leave it as soon as clutched. The longings of Monday, of Tuesday, of Wednesday, of Thursday, have all some semblance of reason, and some recommendation for the human race; but the sordid and clinging wretch who at this stage of existence lives only to man. oppress and grind his fellow-creatures is a monster to be abhorred, and neither pitied among the weaknesses, nor excused among the follies, nor pardoned among the errors of mankind. Saturday. We are tired with the long-continued labor. Our stiffened limbs have forgotten the buoyant activity of the butterfly hunt; our over-laden memories, the mad and dazzling feelings of the succeeding chase; our wearied spirits the agitating impulses of our ambitious day; and our stricken conciences array in dread before us the perdition of our worldly guilt. What seek we now but repose; to return to childhood again, to be quiet, to be sustained, to be nursed and upheld, to be troubled no more? The Sabbath.-Life and the Week are over. The Sabbath of the grave and of rest is ours Oblivion has fallen upon the past, with all that has charmed or afflicted, soothed or embittered, blest or wrong. ed its fleeting hours. Oh that looking back thereon may encourage us to look forward with humble confidence! and that we may be able to comfort ourselves with the thought that during this week of life we have done our best to make the paths of our brother-sojourners paths of peace and joy! Did men but do so, how much brighter would be the days, and how much calmer the nights, of all the in-dwellers of the earth! As it is, we are only aware of the prevalence of such dispositions, and such a system of conduct, in the president, vice, secretary, trea surer, and common members of the "(Nothing?) New Under the Sun Society;" who have unanimously agreed that this paper is a novelty, and worthy of Bentley's Miscellany, which, being only a year old, is deserving of being deemed another. TEUTHA. SPECIMEN OF ALLITERATION. SIEGE OF BELGRADE. An Austrian army, awfully arrayed, Dealing destruction's devastating doom. For fame, for fortune,--fighting, furious fray- Infuriate, indiscriminate in ill, Kinsmen kill kinsmen,--kinsmen kindred kill! Labor low levels loftiest, longest lives; Men march 'mid mounds, 'mid moles, 'mid murderous mines. Now noisy, noxious numbers notice nought Of outward obstacles opposing ought: Poor patriots, partly purchased, partly pressed, Quite quaking, quickly quarter, quarter quest. Reason returns, religious right redounds, Why wish we warfare? Wherefore welcome we Xerxes, Ximenes, Xanthus, Xaviere? Yield, yield, ye youths! ye yeomen, yield your yell! Zeno's Zarpatus', Zoroaster's zeal, |