So friendship ever liveth Immortal as the soul, And purer pleasure giveth As longer ages roll; And hope and joy and inward peace Forever heighten and increase! Our homes and dwelling-places, The country of our birth, The old familiar faces Endeared to us on earth, And every source and scene of joy Our spirits' senses shall employ. So shall our true affections, To earthly objects given, Form intimate connections Between our world and heaven; And all our long existence move In an unbroken stream of love. THE TYRANNY OF AFFECTION. BY MRS. ENNSLO. Methinks those who preach up the dignity of human nature, and expatiate upon its original perfections, must look upon it through magic glasses: to some perceptions at least, it presents even in its best estate a picture of such abortive aims, such woful short-comings, such clouded brightness, that even in those better natures, where we feel sure that the sun of virtue _does_ shine, the noxious vapors of human frailty, pride in all its various ramifications, selfishness under its many disguises, prejudice with its endless excuses, etc., etc., do so envelope it that we cannot hope to feel the warmth of its rays until some wholesome trial, some aptly-apportioned cross, clear away these paralyzing influences and force it into action. What seems at the first glance freer from this dross than the love of man to man? the love of the creature for his fellow; the ordained test of his love to his Creator? What seems more preeminently pure than the affection of the parent for the child, who owes him not only life but the nurture which has maintained and elevated that life? Yet even here, even over this fair garden of peace, the trail of the serpent may be detected. The tyranny of deep affection is seen in every relation of life: we love a cherished object, it may be with every fibre of our heart, ay, even idolatrously; we would willingly spend and be spent to surround the beloved one with materials for enjoyment; but these materials must be of _our_ selection; we would sacrifice ourselves to lead them to happiness, but _we_ must point out the road to them; we will bear every thing, endure every thing, but the mortification of seeing them receive good at other hands than our own. Ah! there are some rare exceptions to this rule, but surely not more than enough to constitute it a rule.