but would take its place on the same shelf with the gay tints that form the motley groups in our handsome stores. Could influential people be found to expose the folly and vanity of this practice, and refuse to comply with its demands, others would soon be glad to follow their example, and, before many years, it would sink into contempt and disuse. If the Americans, the most practical people in the world, would but once take up the subject and publicly lecture on its absurdity, this dismal shadow of a darker age would no longer obscure our streets and scare our little ones. Men would wear their grief in their hearts and not around their hats; and widows would be better known by their serious deportment than by their weeds. I feel certain that every thinking person, who calmly investigates the subject, will be tempted to exclaim with me, "Oh, that the good sense of mankind would unite in banishing it for ever from the earth!" The Song Of Faith. "House of clay!--frail house of clay! In the dust thou soon must lie; Spirit! spread thy wings--away, Strong in immortality; To worlds more bright Oh wing thy flight, To win the crown and robe of light. "Hopes of dust!--false hopes of dust! Smiling as the morning fair; Why do we confiding trust In trifles light as air? Like flowers that wave Above the grave, Ye cheer, without the power to save. "Joys of earth!--vain joys of earth! Sandy your foundations be; Mortals overrate your worth, Sought through life so eagerly. Too soon we know That tears must flow,-- That bliss is still allied to woe! "Human love!--fond human love! We have worshipp'd at thy shrine; Envying not the saints above, While we deem'd thy power divine. But ah, thy light, So wildly bright, Is born of earth to set in night. "Love of heaven!--love of heaven! Let us pray for thine increase; Happiness by thee is given, Hopes and joys that never cease. With thee we'll soar Death's dark tide o'er, Where earth can stain the soul no more." CHAPTER IX Odd Characters "Dear merry reader, did you ever hear, Whilst travelling on the world's wide beaten road, The curious reasoning, and opinions queer, Of men, who never in their lives bestow'd One hour on study; whose existence seems A thing of course--a practical delusion-- A day of frowning clouds and sunny gleams-- Of pain and pleasure, mix'd in strange confusion; Who feel they move and breathe, they know not why-- Are born to eat and drink, and sleep and die." S.M.