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Show 1836- 1837! Fbgg's F* r West 317 pilgrim traveller's heart. Ah I it is very sweet, from the dull Rembrandt shades of which human character presents but too much, to turn away and dwell upon these green, beautiful spots in the wastes of humanity; these oases in a desert of barrenness; to hope that man, though indeed a depraved, unholy being, is not that thing of utter detestation which a troubled bosom had sometimes forced us to believe. At such moments, worth years of coldness and distrust, how inexpressibly grateful is it to fed the young tendrils of the heart springing forth to meet the proffered affection; curling around our race, and binding it closer and closer to ourselves. But your pardon, reader: my wayward pen has betrayed me into an episode upon poor human nature most unwittingly, I do assure thee. I was only endeavouring to present a few ideas circumstances had casually suggested, which I was sure would cdmmend themselves to every thinking mind, and which some incidents of my wayfaring may serve to illustrate, when lo! forth comes an essay on human nature. It reminds one of Sir Hudibras, who told the dock by algebra, or of Dr. Young's satirised gentlewoman, who drank tea by stratagem. " How little do men realize the loveliness of this visible world!" is an exclamation which has oftentimes involuntarily left my lips while gazing upon the surpassing splendour of a prairie- sunrise. This is at all times a glorious hour, but to a lonely traveller [ 65] on these beautiful plains of the departed mini, it comes on with a charm which words are powerless to express. We call our world a RUIN. Ah! it is one in all its moral and physical relations; but, like the elder cities of the Nile, how vast, how magnificent in its desolation! The astronomer, as he wanders with scientific eye along the sparkling galaxy of a summer's night, tells us that among those clustering orbs, far, far |