s, present as graceful pictures as
the Italian vintage.

How pleasant is the course along a new river, the sight of new shores!
like a life, would but life flow as fast, and upbear us with as full a
stream. I hoped we should come in sight of the rapids by daylight; but
the beautiful sunset was quite gone, and only a young moon trembling
over the scene, when we came within hearing of them.

I sat up long to hear them merely. It was a thoughtful hour. These
two days, the 29th and 30th of August, are memorable in my life;
the latter is the birthday of a near friend. I pass them alone,
approaching Lake Superior; but I shall not enter into that truly
wild and free region; shall not have the canoe voyage, whose daily
adventure, with the camping out at night beneath the stars, would have
given an interlude of such value to my existence. I shall not see the
Pictured Rocks, their chapels and urns. It did not depend on me; it
never has, whether such things shall be done or not.

My friends! may they see, and do, and be more; especially those who
have before them a greater number of birthdays, and a more healthy and
unfettered existence!

I should like to hear some notes of earthly music to-night. By the
faint moonshine I can hardly see the banks; how they look I have no
guess, except that there are trees, and, now and then, a light lets me
know there are homes, with their various interests. I should like to
hear some strains of the flute from beneath those trees, just to break
the sound of the rapids.

THE LAND OF MUSIC.

When no gentle eyebeam charms;
No fond hope the bosom warms;
Of thinking the lone mind is tired,--
Naught seems bright to be desired.

Music, be thy sails unfurled;
Bear me to thy better world;
O'er a cold and weltering sea,
Blow thy breezes warm and free.

By sad sighs they ne'er were chilled,
By sceptic spell were never stilled.
Take me to that far-off shore,
Where lovers meet to part no more.
There doubt and fear and sin are o'er;
The star of love shall set no more.

With the first light of dawn I was up and out, and then was glad I had
not seen all the night before, it came upon me with such power in its
dewy freshness. O, they are beautiful indeed, these rapids! The grace
is so much more obvious than the power. I went up through the old
Chippewa burying-ground to their head, and sat down on a large stone
to look. A little way off was one of the home-lod