The page of the Future
She'll sometimes unroll,

And in Hope's tones of music

Reads over the scroll:

Whilst cautiously peeping,

Bright pictures I see;

Oh! am I not happy,
Sweet fancy, with thee!

Yet these visions delusive,
But tempt me astray;
And it is but a meteor,
Which lights up the way:
Turn, turn then my spirit,
At the warnings of truth,
And remember thy Maker,
In the days of thy youth!

M. A. S. BARBER.

'THE errors of Rome-that is, rank idolatry, a subversion of all civil as well as religious liberty, and the utter disgrace of reason and of human nature.'Lord Chatham.

REDUCED POSTAGE.

THE adoption of a plan which will greatly lighten the burden of postage to the public is welcomed by many whose purses or whose consciences have hitherto imposed a degree of restraint on their letterwriting propensities: while others, whose letterreading and letter-answering propensities are not commensurate with the epistolary activity of their friends, quake at the prospect of an amelioration which may act on their comfort in an inverse ratio. In fact, we cannot refrain from putting in a few deprecatory sentences, on behalf of a certain persecuted body of helpless individuals, who are in danger of being' kilt with kindness.'

The scribbling world may be divided into two classes. First, we have those who can call their time their own, and who, when the aforesaid propensity comes upon them, have only to adjust a rosewood desk, draw forth a sheet of paper, unclose a wellstopped inkstand, try the nib of a delicate pen, and breathe the leisurely effusions of arm-chair repose. Perhaps the measured march of intellect declines a halt when the legitimate limits of their paper are reached if so, they have only to change its position, and the lines are crossed without inconvenience to the fair operator. The letter is perused, folded, sealed, directed, and left for the post: the desk is

closed and some other amusement invites the attention.

The second class may be embodied in an individual; and the fair transcript of a diary, extending only to twenty-four hours, will best explain the business.

She received by a late coach a parcel from the printing-office, requiring a supply of matter for the press, by the revision of proof-sheets, and completion of some unfinished pages. The packet must go by early coach next morning, and to prepare it required a very late sitting. She went to her chamber fatigued, excited, feverish, and unable to compose herself to sleep. A long task must be performed on the morrow, or the day's earnings would not cover the day's expenses; and the depressing effect of coming debt, combined with a conscious inability for accumulation of work, would further paralyze the weary hand, and dim the enfeebled eye. She rose, hardly refreshed, but full of what must be committed to paper, and after the unavoidable interruptions of domestic minutiæ that must not be neglected, the desk was laid open, the mass of papers arranged, and with a glance of distress at the advanced hand of the time-piece, she commenced her work.

In an hour's space she had made some progress, and hoped to have a reasonable portion of leisure secured for a little out-door exercise, or social converse, in the after part of the day; but the post-the dreaded post arrives, and a heap of letters is laid before her. Oh that she could put them by for a few hours! but no: something may demand an immediate reply, and they were opened. Two did require to be answered by return of post: for one was to

volunteer a visit which she could not receive, the other contained a question relative to business that must not be delayed. A third was filled with affectionate remonstrances on her long silence, and minute inquiries concerning her household; two more on literary business that was not quite so pressing; one to solicit her aid in a private collection; and the last was a welcome cordial-an epistle full of pleasant chat, valuable information, and encouraging remark, ending with the considerate words' Don't write to me.'

The two first were answered; the third put by with a feeling of distress that so much kind solicitude must go unrewarded for a while. That containing the contribution card was placed with twenty more to the same effect, with a sigh over her utter inability to go begging: and when all these interruptions were over, the early hour at which family arrangements render it necessary to dine had already arrived, leaving the scribbler only an alternative of sacrificing her healthful walk, or of labouring during the evening, to the exclusion of all domestic and social converse or relaxation.

6

This is far from being an exaggerated statement: the individual in question rarely receives less than six letters per diem, and is under an absolute necessity to furnish the press with as much as will occupy her at the desk for six hours daily. Why not employ an amanuensis? Has she no young friends who will take the pen-no children able to write?' She has both; but with regard to the first, the presence of a companion wholly destroys that abstraction of the mind from external things which is usually found necessary to literary composition; and as to the

latter, she would sooner add night to day, and write for twenty-four hours, than be guilty of defrauding a child of the short intervals for healthful activity, between the confinement of school to-day and allotted tasks preparatory for to-morrow's attendance, which are essentially necessary to youth.

This is one of a class who, as we said, inly quake at the approaching reduction. We desire to plead for them to claim on their behalf some exemption from the general rule of punctuality in answering letters, of exactness in replying to inquiries, of promptitude in undertaking to give advice, to transact business, or to make collections for others. We would humbly submit that the Do-littles being a far more numerous and flourishing family than the Domuches, should always be first applied to: and lastly, that such as have leisure and inclination for epistolary intercourse should remember how welcome to an over-wearied brother or sister is the sight of a pleasant enlivening letter commencing with- Don't hurry to read this,' and ending with- Don't answer it.'

Continued literary occupation is very fatiguing: it soon wears out the healthiest body and unhinges the best regulated mind; and when pursued with a determined purpose of promoting the cause of truth, the individual so engaged is sure to be the mark of Satan's keenest assaults. He would far rather see fifty religious people assembled at a soirée, with a bible in the midst of them, than one of the number closeted alone, working for the press. He often transforms himself into an angel of light, employing Christians to discourage one another from 'overworking themselves,' or to tempt each other into squandering on a private letter the time, the thought,