"Move we cap verses," yawned Nestor. Samson Brass assented. "Well, strike up, Quilp," said Ichabod, "its your prerogative to begin it." The little man frowned once, and then said: "Here's to you from Coleridge,

"E-Zounds," said Brass," what verse begins with E? I wish you had closed with 0, for I feel like sighing with Spencer,

'Oh! who does know the bent of woman's fantasie "

Here's one, though, from Miss Landon :

'Alas! for love that sits alone,

Forsaken and yet fond ;'"

"Ha, ha! 'Alas' begins with E does it ?" quoth Ichabod. Samson blushed. "We'll excuse it," said the Great Unknown, "for the sentiment's sake, which was doubtless the burden of his heart, and came up unbidden." Samson blushed again. "I have it now," said he. Southey, speaking of Ambition, Avarice, &c., continues:

66

Earthly these passions, as of earth

They perish where they have birth.

But love is Indestructible!

Its holy flame forever burneth :

From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.'"

"Well, Brass," said the Great Unknown, "you've at length succeeded, but methinks so sturdy a votary of Minerva should not be love sick."

"Here's one for you, Samson," said Nestor, adjusting his spectacles, "which will not only cap your verse, but also perhaps soothe your wounded spirit. I don't know its author, but it is quoted by the orator Phillips (here it was observed that Nestor looked even wiser than usual) when pleading in the case of Blake v. Wil

kins:

'He asked her, would she marry him-Widow Wilkins answered No-
Then said he, I'll to the Ocean-rock, I'm ready for the slaughter,
Oh!-I'll shoot at my sad image, as its sighing in the water-
Only think of Widow Wilkins, saying-Go, Peter-Go!"

Quilp swallowed several inches of his big cane to keep himself from bursting. The Great Unknown lay right back and roared. Ichabod was busy in conning over all the poetry he could think of; and Samson Brass looked comforted.

"Come Ichabod," said Nestor, "its your turn now-'O' is the leading letter." But that Editor was seen lost in a trance of rapt contemplation, from which, in the language of his favorite poetess, Mrs. Hemans, he profoundly spoke :

"Oh! for gifts more high!

For a Seer's glance to rend mortality!

For a charm'd rod to call from each dark shrine
The oracles divine !"

Here we were startled by a loud snore. "Jove!" cried Quilp, "the Great Unknown is asleep." "It strikes me," said Brass, "that he must be awakened;" and while Ichabod anxiously inquired where it hit him and if it hurt him much, and received a withering frown for his solicitude, Nestor flung the first vol. of Brown's Philoso phy at the Great Unknown, and told him to cap a verse which closed with "E.”

"We are such stuff

As dreams are made of, and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep,"

was the somnolent reply, and he shut his eyes again. "Let him alone," said Quilp; "he can think of nothing but sleep and dreams; I'll cap it for him from Scott's Lady of the Lake:

'Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain,
As what they ne'er might see again.'"

"My turn again?" said Brass; " or have we had enough ?" Enough, enough," cried Quilp and Nestor at a breath. Enough," chimed in Ichabod; and thereupon, while the Great Unknown was quietly sleeping in Quilp's easy chair, Brass, Nestor and Ichabod-exeunt.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

"Hal" and

are informed that their pieces are under consideration.

"Fragments" remain "in statu quo."

T's poetry is good in part, but as a whole we must decline inserting it. The newly fledged Junior, who sent us an essay on the Calculus, is requested to test his mathematical powers in differentiating the little end of Nothing whittled down to a point and viewed through a minifying glass.

“Pindar” is warned that we shall reject all poems and triumphal songs which celebrate victories won on the wicket ground.

"Brown's Philosophy, critically examined and exploded," is clearly inadmissible. Our promising classmate is reminded that he should

"Learn to labor and to wait."

If the world like it not, so much the worse for them.-Cowper.

OCTOBER, 1848.

AMHERST:

PUBLISHED BY THE EDITORS.

PRINTED BY J. S. AND C. ADAMS.

MDCCCXLVIII.

A Vision, and a certain Conversation held therein, con-

MYSTERY! what is its nature? whence does the notion of it arise? how has it been developed?

Generically we mean by mystery, that which is shut up, and of which therefore as thus concealed we can have no correct knowledge; such at least was the "musterion" of the Greek. Derivatively from this it came to be a synonyme of strange or incomprehensible, denoting simply that which we are unable to understand, without reference to the cause of that inability. But it has a less general signification in common use, being most often employed with reference to preternatural, and especially to supernatural phenomena. That which we cannot understand but greater minds may and do, is strange and incomprehensible. That which is beyond man, foiling the philosopher as well as the dunce, is mystery. Astronomers measure the distances of the stars and calculate their weights; this is a wonder. The union of mind and body, and the essence of each, are mysteries. Whence does the notion of mystery arise?

If our definition be correct that it implies the supernatural, the question becomes-whence did man infer the existence of any superhuman agents? Whether from nature man could have reasoned out God is not essential to the point before us. But that the natural implies the supernatural, nay, irresistably proves it, is unquestionable. In the cold harsh destiny of adhesion, there is as much that is supernatural and beyond human agency and human comprehension, as in the warm and generous teachings of christianity. Mystery then is necessary. Reason infers it, whether theistic or atheistic; faith worships the All Mysterious.