panions, as was most generally the case, I drove thought from me, by seeking them, till, at last, I learned to avoid thought, now become almost insupportable. Thus, in the gay round of pleasure, youth and manhood passed away. Those who would have been true friends, seeing that I neglected their counsels and chose to follow a useless mode of life, at last, were either forced to drop me, or I became weary of, and left them; and thus was left without other guidance than a passionate love of exciting pleasure. Thus passed my days, until, as I before said, youth and the best portion of manhood were passed, and left me, approaching age, with a diminished fortune, an almost ruined constitution, and scarce a single one of my former companions, who so gayly fluttered about me in my prosperity ;-no, their object was to live upon others' wealth, and prey upon them; and when they found they could do so but little longer, they fell away, to prey upon new victims.

Pleasure had now lost its great charm of excitement, and I was forced, at last, once more to think. And what were the pangs I thus endured! I found, when thought did return to my almost exhausted frame, I was not entirely bereft of sensibility. Life passed in review before me. I had entered the world with bright prospects; I was

now fast approaching the grave, with scarce a single friend. I was endowed with talents of a high order, that might have been made beneficial to the cause of humanity, either in the halls of legislation, or in the more domestic social circle. I might have drawn around me friends, who would have loved and respected me, and held me in grateful remembrance and esteem. Those talents had been wasted, and I had lived a life of folly and uselessness, -ay, worse, for as I had been led away from usefulness, had not my influence, also, been given to induce others so to go astray? How many shall the grave hold at one dread day, led by my example, from the paths of virtue! I know not how many there may be! I shudder to bring the thought to mind.

Who shall lament me, when the sod lies over my mortal remains? What tear of the many that might have dropped, will now be shed in memory of me? I am fast hastening to the grave, yet I would not go without making some effort to redeem a few of the errors of an ill-spent life. I would warn those who are now entering upon its many scenes, to take heed to their ways, lest when they have passed its meridian, they too lament a worse than useless part. Though thoughtless pleasure may, for a while, be tempt

ing, though its excitements be dear for the present, could it be known what pain must succeed them, how soon would they be thrown aside for ways of peaceful virtue! The grave is now before me. I must soon sink to my final resting place, and oh! with what pleasure would I do so, could I reflect that my passage to it had been one of usefulness! could I reflect, that I had done my full meed of duty to friends and mankind! I would have those who are now entering life's domain, take heed that they follow not my example, but that rather, when they leave this world, it may be with a reflection I cannot enjoy - that their lives have been usefully and profitably spent.

DEATH.

THERE is nothing, perhaps, the thought of which is so much shunned, as the thought of death and a future life. Men hear the sound, shudder, and wonder that such a change as death must come over them. As to a future life, they fear there is no such thing, though reflection would soon clear them of their doubt. The late lamented Mr. Leggett, a few days before his death, composed a few lines on this subject, commenc

ing somewhat in this manner: "There's no such thing as death; the end of life is but the beginning of a new existence;" and as such, do all reflecting men regard it. What a cold and gloomy religion must that be, (if religion it can be called,) that teaches, that when his breath leaves man, that is his end! He who has been the life and delight of the family circle here; he whose words have awakened an enthusiastic glow in the hearts of thousands of his fellow-men; he, whose voice has been the sound to which tens of thousands have rallied; the maiden who has been the pride of friends and joy of parents; the young man of promising talents; all, when brought to death's door, cease to exist, except as a mass of earth! May I be preserved from believing in such a doctrine! But, there is no such thing as death." Nothing else dies; why should man die? The flowers that fade in autumn, spring again, with new beauties, when the season returns. The grass, that moulders in Winter, with Spring arises anew; and trees that have cast off their garments, adopt new ones, and though cut down and burned, exist yet, though in a different shape. As the seasons, after they have passed away, return again; as day succeeds the fading night; so will it be with the spirit of man; a repose in the grave, and he will again spring into

existence, a new and beautiful being; the trammels of earth will be cast off, and the spirit will rejoice in its freedom. We all know, that as our frames grow old and worn, the spirit or light of life within us becomes dim, and glows with a feeble spark; it follows then, that if our frames were never thrown off, the spirit would become incapable of action, in fact, dead. Death is but the exchange of an earthly, worn frame, for a better one; one that never becomes enfeebled. With such a change in view, death is disarmed of one of its greatest terrors, and man passes through the dark valley without fear.

HOPE.

How mysterious is our being! rious the manner of our lives!

How myste

Why do we

toil, day after

live? For what purpose do we day, and year after year, in one ceaseless round? Is it that we may acquire money? If so, how foolish does it appear thus to labor for what we must soon leave! Is it for happiness? Yet it does seem vain to seek it amid that which is continually loading us with care and trouble. We go, we come, and to what does it amount ?