Nothing is loftier than the far-off stars :
Nothing unknown to th' all-beholding sun.

And, Mummius, thou, though blest with noblest powers,
To penetrate through Nature's mysteries,
And scan her deep arcana, seem'st (forgive
My high presumption) to be ignorant

Of Nothing. Nothing gleams with clearer light
Than the bright orb of day, or glitt'ring fire.
Touch Nothing, and thou'lt be compelled to own
That, without substance, Nothing may be touched.
Look upon Nothing, and thou straight shall learn
That, without color, Nothing may be seen.
Nothing can hear the dumb discourse, can speak
When voiceless, walk the earth without a limb,
Without a wing can soar through liquid air.
Nothing, that hath nor place nor motive power,
Can wander through th' immeasurable void.
Nothing more useful is to human kind
Than the great art of healing.

And whomsoe'er stern Charon, in his bark,
Hath ferried to the dreary shades below,

Across the sunless waters, Nothing can recall
To light and life; for Nothing moves
Th' inexorable will of gloomy Dis,

And works its pleasures with the thread of Fate.
Those earth-born giants, whom the Olympian Sire
O'erwhelmed upon the plains of Phlegra, felt
That Nothing than the thunderbolt of Jove
Is to be dreaded more. Nothing extends
Beyond the confines of the Universe:

The Gods dread Nothing.

Why too long prolong

My tedious strain? fair Virtue is less fair

Than Nothing: Nothing is more glorious

Than Virtue. Nothing holds its proud estate
Matchless, supreme, above the throne of Jove.

The second is pathetic. "If ye have tears, prepare to shed them now."

BALLAD OF BROOKFIELD.

which a family befel.

twas on the southern boundary line

of famous brookfield town

that there once stood an old brown hous

which now has tumbled down.

a man whos morals was not Good

did dwel within the same
he had 5 children grone up
and CARTER was the name.
3 suns there was, & dawters 2
but O their dredful Fate
i pray u al attenshun give
and i will it relate.

horace the oldest of them all
a dredful crime did doo

and for the same was taken up
and in a dungeon threw.
his trial came, the juge declared
that horace should be hung.
so with a halter roung his nek
he from the scaffold swung.
tommas the 2d of the bois
did rob a hous 1 nite

and then was thrown into a prizon dark
and kept there day and nite.

they centensed Him to stay for life

in the prizon dark and lone

but when a few short yeers had flew

he so reformed had grone

that thay thot thay wood let Him out
and set the prizoner free.

and now his natural caracter

u all wil shortly see

no sunner had he left the yard

and got out of his keepers way

than strate to a stable went

and stole a Hors and Shay

and then thay brot poor tommas back
and poot him in his cel

and whether he'll ever get out agane

is more than i can tel!

loren, the youngest of them all

some munny stole 1 day

so in the prizon 20 years

he now has got to stay.

the Girls got drunk and their father beet

and so to jale ware sent

while the fathers hart with greef was broke and down to the Grave he went.

Contributions for the next No. must be sent in immediately.

A most perilous, but unavoidable haste in composition and proof-reading must excuse the introduction of the word contemporary, line 24, p. 370 of Vol. XII, No. 8.

Ir cannot be thought amiss, if one reflects a moment, that we endeavor, even in this ungracious and decaying period of the year, to throw open to his attention that most pleasant domain of Priapus, a garden. For what will insure a more substantial benefit? what is more disposed to lead the mind to a consideration of its destiny, than to contemplate Nature thus divesting herself of her many-colored and gorgeous attire, to assume for a season the icy robes of her wintry tomb?

Nature exhibits a yearly tragedy, which, (as a perfect tragedy is the noblest production of the human mind,) by virtue of its perfection and vastness, and springing, we may say, from the Eternal Mind, is highly worthy of our contemplation, among the many objects presented to us in the progress of our checkered existence. In early spring, the famous actress, summoned, as it were, by the melodious orchestra of the birds, steps forth from her sepulchre and icy chains, as we may conjecture our Earth sprang from ancient chaos, with a brilliant chaplet of flowers about her head, and attired in a mantle of the noblest green. Hostile spirits of the air at once assail her, though many with wonderful benevolence comfort and bless. Some rob her of her cherished decorations; but others, through compassion, present her with unmeasured harvests of grain and fruit. And so she fares, until, completing a strange series of calamities and benefits, her desperate foes finally triumph, and wreath about her dismantled form a winding sheet of snow!

Here, as in the representation of a well-written and well-acted play, we love to view and investigate every scene, even to the final dropping of the curtains. And, while there are vastly many and instructive

subjects for investigation and reflection in this tragedy of Nature, which we have dimly pictured, her chaplet alone, so complete and beautiful, shall we subject to a particular review. We propose, then, after a quiet stroll in the natural, to pass for a second and more critical ramble into the intellectual garden.

Reader, if thou hast ever seen a garden in the full majesty of its blossoming, thou canst more than keep wing with my imagination, as it strives to erect the semblance of one, that may be pleasing, even amid the wailings of this dying year.

Now open the gate; and, passing through a dense vine-leaf shade underneath a bower-ach heavy with clusters, we enter upon the enjoyment of most delicious odors, and views of flowers, so manifold and illustrious, that they rise above even the perfect art of description. Here beds of roses bloom, that might most successfully vie with the "biferi rosaria Paesti"-bells, modest and charming as the lily-of-thevalley and lilies-of-the-valley too. There are tulip-cups of a thousand dyes, carnations and jessamines. Yonder innumerous blossoms of endless shapes and complexions mingle their beauties together, and spread a glory over the ground, that the eye does not often visit. On every hand flourish trees, in the prime of a full score of years, Nature's aviaries, which are preparing hereafter to overstore the fruiteries from their burdened boughs, and now diversify the prospect with green and shade. Bubbling rills from spouting lions and swans, "dryads and hamadryads," creep to every nook, and irrigate the thirsty plants, or, diffused in vapor, temper towards them the hot approaches of the sun, and in the still slumbering of the night crown them with dewy coronals. Parterres of grass and scattered blooms, opening here and there, offer a grateful repose in their variegated laps; and most enchanting walks, fringed with the evergreen box and the choicest flowerets, invite our wandering. Latticed temples and arches, over which the vine and honeysuckle have clambered in exceeding luxuriance, disclose the attractions of a sumptuous retreat during a burning day, and a likelihood of decoying slumbers and pleasant dreams. In such a garden, thou, illustrious Bard of Mantua, didst long ago love to muse; in such, thou, Historian of rebellious wars in Heaven, and man's unmanly fall, else whence arose that miracle of Paradise, at sight of which he was well amazed, that fiend Archangel, although, when purity and love beamed in his eye and graced his heart, he had dwelt amid the perfect splendors of the City of God.

When I have entered upon such a scene, a conceit has often arisen within my mind, that I could not well expel from it. As I have contemplated the immense variety of the flowers-their beauty and perfection-so gloriously clad in the garments of the rainbow-how some bend their heads towards the east to salute the rising sun, or towards the west to view his departure, and, with the evening breeze, sigh a farewell-how some open with the opening, and close with the closing day-how others cast forth but one breath of fragrance on the air, and die ere the morning be fully awake-and the wonderfully fleeting existence of them all, I could but feel that they compose a superior order