While here, in the valley of conflict I stay,
O give me submission and strength as my day;
In all my afflictions to thee would I come,
Rejoicing in hope of my glorious home.

Home, sweet home, &c.

What'er thou deniest, O give me thy grace!
The Spirit's sure witness, and smiles of thy face!
Indulge me with patience, to wait at thy throne,
And find, even now, a sweet foretaste of home.
Home, sweet home, &c.

I long, dearest Lord, in thy beauties to shine,
No more, as an exile, in sorrow to pine;
And in thy fair image, arise from the tomb,
With glorified millions, to praise thee at Home!
Home, sweet home, &c.

CHANGES.

its birth;

The world hath many changes-the fair and verdant earth
Wears not the look it wore when first heaven smiled upon
Dark rolls the flood of ages, and whelms beneath its tide
The monuments of man's renown, his glory and his pride.
Where are those ancient cities-the proudest of their day?
Their pomp, their splendor-all are gone-passed like a dream away!
Some hath the earthquake swallowed, some have an ocean tomb,
Some in the red volcano's wrath have met their fiery doom.

And some to dark oblivion have sunk by slow decay,

Their very luxury hath worn their strength and power away.-
And is it but the tokens of art and skill alone,

Is it but in the works of man the power of change is shown?
Alas! whatever changes in this fair earth have been,

None are so sad and strange as those which in ourselves are seen;
Our fairest feelings wither, our brightest hopes depart,
And sweet and pleasant thoughts lie dead, and a blight falls on the heart
And all that once could charm us seems dull, and drear and strange,
Till scarce we recognize ourselves, so deep and dark the change;
But with a saddened spirit we look on those around,

And feel more bitterly the change that oft in them is found.
The eye we loved is altered, and answers ours no more,
But cold and careless is the glance that beamed with love before.
The lip, whose smile of welcome so long was all our own,
Whose accents ever breathed to us affection's cordial tone,
Now smiles on us no longer, and breathes no gentle word,
But cold politeness moulds each phrase, which from those lips is heard
Ah! sad it is to wander a path bereft of flowers,

And with the phantom of those friends that are no longer ours.
Yet is not this a lesson to wean from earthly things

The heart of man, which stiil too much to earthly objects clings?
To bid our hopes, look onward to that immortal home,

Where lurks no dark deceit, and where no change can ever come

MR. SCHOOLCRAFT, in his travels in the central portions of the Mississippi Valley, gives us the following interesting account of his visit to Mount Joliet, in the state of Illinois. We now took up our journey across the plains. The day had become sultry, and we suffered much from the combined effects of heat and thirst. We had on no part of the route, found the proportion of forest so limited. Fields of prairie frequently spread before the eye, like the boundless expanse of the ocean, and the vision is as soon limited. The eye passes over this unvaried surface, often "glancing from earth to heaven," without finding any prominent object to fix upon. Its apparent boundary is the horizon. This monotony of prospect would soon become tiresome, were it not occasionally relieved by small streams of clear water, by limited forests of timber, and by gentle elevations in the surface, which serve to stimulate attention. The slightest changes in the features of the country, or in the complexion of the soil, under such circumstances, become interesting;-and the transitions from arenaceous to loamy-from dry to humid soil, and from black carbonaceous mould to loose pebble-stones, as they appear in the deep-cut horse path, are sources of gratification, in a country whose prominent asperities are all deeply buried beneath alluvial plains. The sudden starting of a prairie-hen, or "whirring pheasant” from the heath, or the bounding of a deer on the distant plain, are circumstances which the memory seizes upon, in the common dearth of local interest. So vigorous a

growth of grasses and flowering plants, covers these plains, that in several places we found them to overtop our shoulders, sitting on horseback; a proof, if any proof were wanting, of the strength and richness of the soil.

It has been observed, that the first effects of the plenitude of inhabitants is the destruction of wood; but the culture and creation of forests will here demand the earliest attention. It appears very evident, that these grassy plains were formerly covered with forests of timber. There is no country in the world better adapted to their growth. Whether these ancient forests were burned down by fire, as some have supposed, or destroyed by water, as others maintain, may be an interesting topic of discussion to the geologist:-But the farmer and planter are chiefly concerned in the restoration of the stock and the promotion of its growth.

We entered the strip of woods which forms a margin to the Au Saubles, one of the tributary streams of the Illinois, during the most intense heat of the day, and enjoyed its refreshing shade for a few moments. miles beyond this pellucid little river, we halted, and dismounted in the plains, and made a short excursion on foot to Mount Joliet.*

Ten

Any prominent swell in the surface of the soil would appear interesting and remarkable in so flat a country, but this would be considered a very striking object of curiosity, in a region of inequalities. It is, strictly. speaking, neither a mountain nor a hill, but rather a mound, and the first impression made by its regular and well-preserved outlines, is that of a work of art. This alluvial structure is seated on the plains, about six hundred yards west of the present channel of the river Des

*This monumental elevation takes its name from Sieur Joliet, who was sent by M. Talon, the Intendant of New France, to accompany Father Marquette, in his search of the Mississippi, A. D. 1673. They entered this stream through the Wisconsan, and then followed its current. It is not certain how far they descended, but it is exident they passed the junction of the Missouri, and some assert that they went to the mouth of the Arkansas. On their return to Canada, they followed up the Illinois, and have left us the first notice of this mound, which they ascended. (Vide Charlevoix's Hist, of New France.)