“And so he did,” I rejoined. It proved as Mobilius predicted, for I did not meet a kinder or more noble-hearted friend than this same Heliopolitan. “As it is late,” observed Lactantius, “we will seek our couches, and to-morrow,” archly glancing at Mobilius, “we may examine the Egyptian mysteries.” But I must draw to a conclusion, least I should sketch this epistle to a tedious length. I bid you an affectionate Farewell. * * * * * * * * THE SOUL’S DESTINY. BY MRS. M. S. B. DANA. And oh! the soul! she saw in visions bright, The veil withdrawn which hides the world of light, With eye of faith she gazed in tearful joy, And they were there! her husband and her boy! Sweet hope of Heaven! thou art a healing balm— If storms arise thy deep rich holy calm Comes with a spirit influence to the breast, And to the weary mourner whispers “rest!” Rest—for the fondly loved, the early dead! Rest—for the longing spirit Heavenward fled! Rest—from a tiresome path in weakness trod! Rest—in the bosom of the Saviour, God! * * * * * THE SACCHARINEOUS PHILOSOPHY. “Her ‘prentice han’ she try’d on man, and then she made the _Lasses_ O.” Gentle reader—art thou fond of molasses? Not only molasses in its simple state, but in its various compounds? If thou art not I pity thee. Thy taste relishes not that which would otherwise be a source of inexpressible pleasure. Eatables may be divided into the two great classes of the sweet and the sour. From the full enjoyment of at least one-half then of the good things of life (and that the better half) art thou deprived. Again I pity thee. But some may say, that although not lovers of molasses or sugar, (as I shall consider them the same in this essay,) yet they are really very fond of many sweet things. They like a portion of the saccharine, though not fond of the gross and clogged sweetness of molasses. Let such, however, think not of escaping in this manner. What! like a thing in part and not in fulness—like the rose-bud and not the open rose—like an amiable and not a perfectly angelic being—like five dollars and not five hundred—like middling and not good health—like imperfect and not perfect happiness—like strawberries and cream, and not sugar or molasses—I tell thee, man, woman, or child—Caucasian, African, or Malay, thou art crazy, bewitched, or tasteless.