It is night now; life, love, and thought are done; What is it comes and sets my heart aglow? Of all the wise and learned tongues not one— Only the foolish songs of long ago. —_The Journal of Speculative Philosophy._ STAGES. By BENJAMIN R. BULKELEY. I. Once life was joy, not joyous service done— Quick days of selfish rapture, broad, not deep; The world was like a picture, and the sun Rose for the gilding of a dreamy sleep. II. We woke; and life was labor; naught of glee Was left, for deepest-rooted toil remained; And as we delved no end was there to see, And suns but glimmered on the dross we gained. III. But now, or in the perfect time, we know The joy returns while labor yet abides; Life’s round and fair, and, delving deep below, We find the joy that early pleasure hides. —_The Journal of Speculative Philosophy._ DRIVING. There is now no branch of outdoor education of greater importance than that of an ability to “handle the ribbons.” Not a man or woman but would be ashamed to say that they were incompetent, if in fair health and strength, to pilot their own carriage. And yet, though so large a proportion of society can boast a smattering of the science, there is no pursuit in which perfection is proportionately so rarely attained. The first requisite for a tyro is to learn to sit well, and so to acquire the proper scope for his own power over his horse. The seat should be above, or at least on a level, with the horses’ heads, not below them; and it should, moreover, be so placed that the driver can use his legs and feet to restrain the pull of the horses if necessary, and that can not be done if the reins pull down over the splash-board into the driver’s lap. Though most tyros begin their essay with a horse in a single harness, yet in a general way it is easier and safer to drive a pair than one. If the single horse is perfect in manners, all that has to be learned is to keep him straight, and to direct him without collision. But if a horse has faults he is safer with a companion; though if the two have coincident faults, or could confabulate mischief together, they would be more dangerous than a single animal, yet it is in practice long chances against the two both doing wrong simultaneously. Each is a check on his fellow: the one may not want to bolt when the other does, or if one falls the other will probably keep his legs. The tyro should take his seat uprightly and squarely, plant his feet well in front of him, grasp his reins firmly, and let his left arm play lightly from the _shoulder_ (not the elbow), his elbows both well squared. Nothing looks so slovenly, or entails such waste of necessary power, as a slouching back, and hands sunk in the lap.