affectation of carelessness. These are the two extremes; the medium is the place of propriety and safety; from which, as from a fountain head, flow simplicity and elegance of language, the life and fascination of a letter.

III. THE SLEIGH RIDE.
(February, 1841.)

THE view was beautiful beyond expression. The icicles hung from every twig, forming myriads of prisms; and the bright morning sun, streaming through them, presented myriads of spectra, of ineffable brilliancy and splendor; as if a shower of diamonds had fallen upon the forest, or a thousand rainbows, broken into ten thousand times ten thousand framents. It would seem that nature had done her best, to see in what dazzling beauty she I could deck the world. The fields were seas, congealed and bleached into perfect whiteness, as far as the eye could reach; and our light sleigh seemed an airy skiff, that bounded from billow to billow. Our steeds were in fine spirits, and so were we. We glided, we flew, over fences and fields, swift as the Laplander with his reindeers. It was the most exhilarating trip I ever enjoyed; and now it seems as if I had been soaring instead of sleighing, or traveling in a fairy vehicle over a fairy world!

Having preached my sermon, let me record my text, which I compose for the occasion, and insert for your benefit:

The snow-waves symbolize the life of men-
'Tis down, then up; 'tis up, then down again;
The joys that sparkle o'er our youthful years,
Like these bright spangles, must dissolve in tears;
And, too divinely beautiful to last,

The scenes that charm us most are soonest past!

IV. DEATH OF THE PRESIDENT.

(April, 1841.)

THE lightning has smitten the eagle upon his cliff. William Henry Harrison has fallen. The President of the United States has become the citizen of the realm where titles confer no distinction, and awaken no envy. It is the first time that the people of this Republic have been called to mourn the loss of the chief magistrate.

Alas! the great are but men. They possess no superhuman vitality; can claim no exemption from the common doom. They may stay the execution of a criminal; but cannot countermand the fiat of their own destiny. The summons comes, and they must obey. There is no superior power to whom they may appeal, or from whom they may secure a delay of sentence.

One fact should reconcile us to this great bereave

ment. The old man died in hope of a blessed immortality. He welcomed with calm joy the chariot that bore him to the skies.

He had lived but one short month amidst the honors of his station. Hope spread a bright vail over the future. The light that streamed through it became more brilliant by the transfusion. The clouds which hung just over the horizon of the rising luminary, soon settled; and darkness fell upon

the nation.

V. THE SILENT LANGUAGE.

(June, 1841.)

THERE is a language without sound or sign; the language of mute, unmoving nature. May has just left an unlettered bequest to June, of swelling buds and expanding blossoms. Spring leaves a testament for summer, summer for autumn, and autumn for winter. The first is a gift of fragrant blossoms; the next, of golden fruits; the last, of withered leaves. What lessons for study the volume of the seasons unfolds! a volume whose pages are from the press of Heaven, whose paragraphs are inspiration symbolized!

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VI. CHRISTIAN FORTITUDE.

(June, 1841.)

DISAPPOINTMENTS are the hail storms of life, beating down the precious harvests of hope just when they are ripening into fruition. It requires philosophy to bear them with fortitude. The Christian bears them best, because his is the best philosophy

"Philosophy baptized

In the pure fountain of Eternal Love!"

"What great ones do, the less will prattle of."

THE Voice of detraction is hoarse with vocifieration. Who is the delinquent? Why ask such a question? Who is it that is always set up as a target for the shafts of malice? Who but the wise and good? Do boys stone the tree that bears no fruit? Which of the prophets or apostles was never slandered? And called they not the Son of God Beelzebub? Ah! the world is still full of pharisees, "canine occupants of the great manger of life," perpetually growling and barking at those who aspire to that of which they themselves are either incapable or unworthy. Men always hate him whom God loves; curse him whom God blesses;

persecute him upon whom fortune has lavished her bounty, or whom genius has endued with power. I speak only of little minds; great minds are incapable of such feelings. True magnanimity is the very antipodes of envy. But that calumny which proceeds from envy is unworthy even of our resentResentment sinks us to a level with the

ment.

calumniator.

"Small curs are not regarded when they grin.”

The traveler must not stop and turn aside to fight with every dog that barks at his heels. Let the idiots shoot at the stars; their arrows only return upon their own heads.

"Honor to him who, self-complete and brave,
In scorn can carve his pathway to the grave;
And heeding nought of what men think or say,
Makes his own heart his world upon the way!"

VIII. ILL HEALTH.
(June, 1841.)

ILL health, like the moth, steals into the sweetest buds of hope, and leaves its slime upon the fairest flowers. How wearily passes the day, though this weariness is relieved by books, grudgingly given by anxious friends! How long and dreary the nights, pain and thought striving for dominion! Sometimes, after toilsome effort, the latter gains the