ow the grip and the password.

We must get over the habit of transferring the limitations of the nervous
temperament and of hectic constitutions to the great Source of all the
mighty forces of nature, animate and inanimate. We may confidently trust
that we have over us a Being thoroughly robust and grandly magnanimous,
in distinction from the Infinite Invalid bred in the studies of sickly
monomaniacs, who corresponds to a very common human type, but makes us
blush for him when we contrast him with a truly noble man, such as most
of us have had the privilege of knowing both in public and in private
life.

I was not a little pleased to find that the Lady, in spite of her letter,
sat through the young man's reading of portions of his poem with a good
deal of complacency. I think I can guess what is in her mind. She
believes, as so many women do, in that great remedy for discontent, and
doubts about humanity, and questionings of Providence, and all sorts of
youthful vagaries,--I mean the love-cure. And she thinks, not without
some reason, that these astronomical lessons, and these readings of
poetry and daily proximity at the table, and the need of two young hearts
that have been long feeling lonely, and youth and nature and "all
impulses of soul and sense," as Coleridge has it, will bring these two
young people into closer relations than they perhaps have yet thought of;
and so that sweet lesson of loving the neighbor whom he has seen may lead
him into deeper and more trusting communion with the Friend and Father
whom he has not seen.

The Young Girl evidently did not intend that her accomplice should be a
loser by the summary act of the Member of the Haouse: I took occasion to
ask That Boy what had become of all the popguns. He gave me to
understand that popguns were played out, but that he had got a squirt and
a whip, and considered himself better off than before.

This great world is full of mysteries. I can comprehend the pleasure to
be got out of the hydraulic engine; but what can be the fascination of a
whip, when one has nothing to flagellate but the calves of his own legs,
I could never understand. Yet a small riding-whip is the most popular
article with the miscellaneous New-Englander at all great
gatherings,--cattle-shows and Fourth-of-July celebrations. If Democritus
and Heraclitus could walk arm in arm through one of these crowds, the
first would be in a broad laugh to see the multitude of young pers