May we not hope that the war-times will pass away with the king-times. (To be concluded.) * * * * * FRAGMENT. BY ALBERT PIKE. We are all mariners on this sea of life; And they who climb above us up the shrouds, Have only, in their over-topping place, Gained a more dangerous station, and foothold More insecure. The wind that passeth over And harmeth not the humble crowd below, Whistles amid the shrouds, and shaketh down These overweening climbers of the ocean, Into the great gigantic vase of death. * * * * * DREAMS OF THE LAND AND SEA. A NIGHT SCENE AT SEA. BY DR. REYNELL COATES. Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wonderous strong, Yet lovely in your strength—as is the light Of a dark eye in woman!—— Byron. But few among those who constitute the educated portion of society on shore, enjoy much opportunity of feeling the grandeur,—the awful variety of night. Women are necessarily debarred from the privilege of partaking freely of its mysterious but ennobling influence by the restraints unfortunately requisite for their protection; and, in order to reap the full advantage of such communion, we must be _alone_ with the queen of the ebon wand and starry diadem. As for those of the bolder sex,—by them, the hours of shade are usually devoted to study, pleasure, or dissipation, and only the few possessing the poetic temperament become familiar with her changeful moods. But, on the ocean, the closeness of the cabin drives the novice frequently on deck, even in stormy weather and at unseasonable hours; and when once this compulsory introduction has been effected, it is surprising how rapidly the traveller, of either sex, becomes enamored of solitude and night—of starlight and the storm. The changes in the heavens,—and the waters too—are quite as numerous and far more impressive by night than by day.—There is no sameness in the sea for those who are blest with capacity to feel the beauties of Nature.