tangled in a labyrinthical description of routes and courses all around the compass; with a more serious annoyance in a lameness occasioned by a long walk into which he was led by Sebring, one of the sailors, who undertook to show him personally the direction in which the yawl had gone. 'Shall I never hear the last of that abominable yawl!' said Lewis, as he found himself at the parlor of the only tavern Oswego then could produce, and found to his vexation that he had probably doomed himself by his imprudence to a week's confinement to his room.

'A gentleman for you, Mr. Grey,' said the servant, as he ushered into the room a visitor, who had desired to see him; and in walked, calmly and deliberately, the Indian trader Ryckman. A conversation followed between them, in the result of which it was evident Grey was exceedingly interested. When the interview closed, Grey sent for a physician, whose announcement that he was forbidden to travel for at least a week was received with a storm of indignation, at which the professional man was at first inclined to demur, but on reflecting that his patient was a rich Englishman, he concluded to make a compromise, and remember the high words in the bill; and it is due to the memory of the faculty at that period, in Oswego, to say that this idea. was faithfully carried into execution, the suffering Lewis in vain remonstrating.

With the plague-spot upon thy visage hollow,
Floridian shores were trod by thee in vain;
When northward Spring sent forth her herald swallow,
Panted thy heart to visit home again:

Once more to native scenes and pleasant places,
Back camest thou o'er Ocean's flashing foam;

Once more thy glance, on old familiar faces,
Rested while sitting by the hearth of home.

Rest from the strife, brave spirit! who would wake thee,
To waste and burn with fever-fires again;
While friends are tortured at the sight, to make thee
Feel for another hour Promethean pain:
Not all of thee is lost while comrades cherish
Fond recollections of thy worth, my friend :
Though gone, the bright example cannot perish
Of courage that upheld thee to the end.

HORACE.

W. H. O B.

EPITHALAMIUM.

BY R. 8 CHILTON.

I.

A HEALTH to the bride! may the sands of life's glass
For her, measure moments of joy as they pass;
May the stream of her life, till it ceases to flow,
Never bear on its bosom the shadow of wo,
But reflect the blue heaven that smiles from above,
On this union of hearts, in the temple of love.

II.

A health to the bride! and as years roll away
May she ever with gladness remember this day;
And if in her eyes start the tears of regret,

As she parts from the friends she may never forget,
May the thought that those friends will ne'er cease to recall
Her image with joy, check the tears ere they fall.

Washington, Oct. 29, 1850.

MUSINGS

BY A

BY THE HEARTH.

LANDSCAPE-PAINTER.

AGAIN I write in the midst of the autumn. The air is at rest, and only heaves to and fro like its sister Sea. The air respires against the pearl-tinted heaven, and the sea lapses against the golden beach. How glorious the blending of all around us now!

Was it an unpleasant dinner, dear KNICK., that you took with me the other day? To be sure you came in late, after the roast-beef had been cut into, but the sweet potatoes were warm; and that butter from my good grocer's, was it not just the thing to slice into and spread over the crisped sweetness of the southern fruit? We were pledged for a walk after dinner, and tossing off the last glass of golden sherry, we set forth. The sun was not over high in the heaven, and the scene we were to see was, if possible, to be seen before that sun had set. Shaped into ships, great fleets, were the clouds above us, as we stepped out into the street; and did you not agree in the fancy, that we could see the cloud-shores along which the fleets were sailing; and we could almost believe that we heard the loud hosannas shouted by the peoplelined coast, as they hailed the return of their squadrons, illustrious with victory.

Up Pacific-street, and away to the environs of the town; through the outskirts; through the small back yards, as yet unfenced, of squatters and suburban settlers men who flank the army of citizens who

live within the city proper. How we saw the pigs and the boys, and the cats and the girls, jostling about and forming friendships and intimacies! Then by the hedge of hawthorn trees, with red berries clustering on their branches.

Over old stone fences, scratched by the warlike and pugnacious briarbushes, through the yellow field of prostrate corn, (how unlike the red field of battle!) down rolled Old KNICK.' among the fragrant ears; and how you feasted your nose amidst the tassels, and seemed, outstretched there, like some picture in a picture-book of our boyhood! Up again, 'Old KNICK.;' over the fence with a jump-well done for an editor, and the father of a family! What have you got your coat off for? What's in the wind now, my lusty man of letters? To climb yon tall and polished poplar! Out upon you, man! From the roof where we are going now we shall see a sight that will be worth forty such views as you will get from amid those brown and quivering branches:

"ZACHEUS he
Did climb a tree,
His LORD to see!'

Where we are going, we shall see spread out before us just such a scene as was shown to that meek master of men, by him of Erebus; a scene of peopled cities and flowing rivers; a scene of wonder; an ocean; two islands; part of a great continent; forests, rolling hills, distant mountains-all beneath us - mapped at our very feet. Let us forward. On with your coat· over the fence again. we are on the hill. Don't stop to gaze at yonder sea of silver; fly up the steps; mount to the top of the house, the good inn 'MountProspect Hotel.' Now for a fresh icy quaff of ale! We have won it by our walk -by our breezy scramble.

Hurrah!

Softly, dear KNICK.; gently up the withered rigging of this stormbeaten house. There is a smell of sleeping summer dust; the steps creak, and the bannisters are broken. Tenants cannot repair, and landlords will not. Through the dim garret-room, full of odd fancies, now mount again a short ladder. Do not stop to pray, for the temple is above, and you will soon stand in the presence of OMNIPOTENT MAJESTY.

Well, that is a good notion. You have got your hat off. It is thoughtful and respectful. There is reverence needed here. Your spirit, my good friend, is always in keeping, and well prepared for such church-scenes as this. Your pastor, perhaps, cannot answer so well you, as to your mental preparation for churches made with hands.” Now, with brow all flushed by honest exercise, and bathed from temple to temple in the glow from yonder setting sun, stand up like a man for whom these things were made, and answer me, is this not sublime?

for

We will look above us now. See that dun cloud with the border of red. It is perfectly still. There seems to be some being (veiled from our mortal eye) standing upon it. Look! did you not almost see an uplifted wing; and yonder now, floating higher toward the Endymion, is not that detached body an angel, who is returning from his

mission of glory to the MASTER's throne? It is gone far away from our straining gaze. How exquisite are our intercourses with the higher world! Dimmed into imaginings are the modes of converse; our souls, like the air, float upward, and press against the gates of paradise. There, like the stilled wind, we linger and listen. Music, no longer faint and low, is heard from the shining gateways; and those bright beings that pass so incessantly before our rapt sense are mysteries of knowledge; upholders, under a great BEING, of this vast globe that hangs suspended by His will, and revolves daily for our use and admiration. We are in a cathedral, dear KNICK., and these are the leaves of our gospel. Listen to the lecture.

How dense that rolling forest! You see no particular leaves through the vast wealth of foliage, and yet how each vein of nature trills and runs throughout all! See those broad branches heave, like pulses of our blood, sending back through their swaying fibres, away through the mighty trunks, new treasures of life, to the heart of nature, that is hidden down in the jewelled caverns of the earth. All down the whole breadth of Long-Island spreads that forest. It walks away from our eye like plumed soldiers over the hills, down into the valleys, by the road-side, passes by the farmer's door, and out to the promontories that brave the billows of the surging sea; away they go, as if to do homage to some invisible host, coming to them from other lands and continents, with whom they are at peace.

Now turn southward, and mark those flashes of light; the Atlantic foaming on the shore; blue horizon to that seathing waste of water that lies beyond; ships, with poor laborers from the lands afar. Now, even as we look, are there yet unseen sails swelling toward our coast, filled with the wild winds that have blown over the jungles of Africa and the steppes of the Asian deserts.

-

Yonder is Staten-Island, and nearer it looks as if you could shoot an arrow there -is the City of the Dead' Greenwood. When there is so much of life about us, we cannot tarry among the tombs. The broad upper bay is dotted with all manner of vessels - sail and steam craft; and yonder is New-Jersey, with its long, low line of hills, and its city of Jersey; and then Weehawken on the hill, looking like a camp in the distance; and Hoboken and the mouth of the Hudson; and farther up, the palisades and the hills that make a sea of Tappaan, on whose banks is the home of IRVING; and farther on still, the mountains of the Ramapo valley. How dim the line that marks the Connecticut shores of the Sound!

Swell out your metropolitan inflated breast, and raise an inch in your boots, thou boastful Editor of the KNICKERBOCKER, for there is your city - your beloved New-York is at your feet; but only so in the accident of your geographical elevation, for proud is the Empire City as was Nineveh or Babylon. Look where that grove almost droops its green boughs into the salt-water of the bay, at the Battery; and without getting into an omnibus, whose rattling sound, thank heaven! reaches not here, travel with me by the electric power of the eye, and through that canopy of smoke, pass along over the City of the New-World. It looks like London. All great brick cities look alike, just as two