"For ever," two small words and easily pronounced, yet far beyond the mind's comprehension. To occurrences and circumstances around us, we can place a beginning and an end, but when we contemplate that mystic shadowing forth of time, "eternity," that which like the Creator of all knew no commencement, and never shall know end, we are utterly lost and confounded. What are days, and weeks, and years? for when millions upon millions of ages have passed away, time will stand forth

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with unwrinkled front, and brow unfurrowed save with the deep corroding marks of sin and human misery. "For ever," "most infinite eternity," life-time of the Almighty, the soul's existence, whose sun can never set, the dawning and career of which now will mark in future ages its destiny for good or ill. Like the wide-spread ocean, boundless and shoreless, its ebb tide, its ceaseless roll of billows, unwearied and unending, which bears all away, but on whose wave none returns; where upon its dark and bitter waters all must embark for that shadowless land, where death and night ever hover with outstretched wings. Poor humanity shrinks from this immensity of thought; weak, powerless and confused, it vainly grasps at shadows, and falls back upon itself, trembling and in tears.

ROCKLAND CEMETERY.-It may seem to those who know our city and its environs but imperfectly, and who have perhaps read a glowing description of Greenwood, that no other general repository for the dead will be needed for a long time to come. But this is a mistake. Such is the rapid growth of our city and Brooklyn, that other cemeteries of the same general character are beginning to be thought of, and two or three are already opened. Among these, Rockland Cemetery seems most desirable. It was a beauti ful day in September, when, in company with several ladies and gentlemen, we paid this spot a visit. Nature had just commenced exchanging her summer dress for a gayer one, and the banks of the Hudson, ever crowned with loveliness, seemed more lovely than ever. Less than an hour and a half suffices for the trip to Piermont, in the Steamer Erie, which runs in connection with the Erie railroad, and one who has an eye for the picturesque in nature can hardly help wishing the time longer.

Apropos of this Erie railroad. We are glad to see that the company are pushing forward the work with the utmost rapidity. In two or three months it is to be completed to Binghamton and Owego. That part of the road now in operation is extremely well constructed. We have never travelled on a railroad which, on the whole, we are better pleased with.

From the village of Piermont, the cemetery is situated about half a mile distant. It occupies nearly two hundred acres, and lies on an elevation sloping gently both toward the Hudson on the east, and the gorge through which the railroad passes on the west. The grounds are now almost in their wild and natural state, the project of appropriating them to the purposes of a cemetery being quite a recent one, and the dedication occurring only in May last. But we were convinced that the spot possesses natural features which must render it one of the most desirable cemeteries in the country. A world of beauty, and grandeur, and glory, is open to the eye, as one stands on the summit. For thirty miles in a westward and southward direction the view extends, without interruption, embracing some of the wildest of scenery, as well as farms in the highest state of cultivation. Nor is this landscape deficient in classic interest. On this theatre were enacted scenes which had a vital bearing on our revolutionary struggle, and are the most strangely thrilling of any on the page of our national history. In this now peaceful and always beautiful valley, in distinct view from the eminence occupied by the cemetery, is the build ing where André, poor André, was tried. There, a little way off, is the field where he fell, ingloriously indeed, according to the conventional notions of men, but as gloriously, according to the

abstract and more correct ideas of heroic braveryas any of the heroes of Bunker Hill or Lexington. There, near the house of God, whose spire glitters above the surrounding trees, was the head-quarters of Washington. On the south and east is the Hudson, its banks crowned with foliage and splendid dwellings, interspersed here and there, half concealed amid the trees: the palisades, the Sound, and even Long Island, bounding the prospect on the south, at the distance of more than thirty miles. On the north aud north-east, we have a full view of Tappan Bay, the village of Tarrytown, Nyack and Sing Sing, and the Highlands. The highest point in the grounds of the cemetery is upwards of seven hundred feet above the level of the river.

We were gratified to perceive that the trustees are actively engaged making improvements in the grounds. Already some thirty or forty acres have been opened, and a much larger number of persons have selected lots.

In looking over the history of Mary, Queen of Scots, recently published by the Harpers, we found an incidental thought which struck us as deserving serious attention. "As we are very apt to hate those whom we have injured," says the author, "so we almost instinctively love those who have in any way become the objects of our kindness and care. If any wife, therefore, wishes for the pleasure of loving her husband, or which is, perhaps, a better supposition"-for our part, we see not why either is not good enough—" if any man desires the happiness of loving his wife, conscious that it is a pleasure which he does not now enjoy, let him commence by making her the object of his kind attentions and care, and love will spring up in the heart as a consequence of the kind of action of which it is more commonly the cause." We believe it, and are perfectly sure that if this philosophy were generally practised, the very happiest results would flow from it.

SOME people will make a great many shifts to gain a reputation. Well, a good reputation is not to be despised, and no one should be indifferent in respect to it; though it may admit of a question, perhaps, as to the number of crooks and turns a Christian can consistently make from the straight-forward turnpike of a Christian's life, in order to obtain it. We heard a story, the other day, of a clerical gentleman, which is instructive

on this point, and which, with our readers' permission, we will relate, for their benefit. This clergyman, who, it may not be amiss to premise, is accounted a man of considerable property, was residing in one of the country villages in some State or another-it matters little which-and being greatly anxious to aid the cause of Christ through one of the prominent charitable institutions of the day, called upon the agent for that district, and very promptly and generously contributed the sum of twenty-five cents. But some weeks after the contribution, he made the agent a second call, remarking that he was about to remove, with his family, to the city, and that, as he was desirous of establishing a reputation for liberality in the new sphere of labor, inore than in the old one, he would esteem it a favor if the twenty-five cents could be refunded, so that the sum might be credited to him in the city. Of course his request was complied with, and his reputation was transferred accordingly.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.-"The Emigrant Family," a lay in blank verse, has occasionally a poetical line in it, but the greater part scarcely rises above the level of measured prose-poorly measured, too, some of it. These lines, for example, have a shocking gait. They hobble along like a horse that has the spavin:

"Pure in heart, in mind well cultivated:"

"They were young, and strong, and temperate too;"
"Where now stands a proud and thriving village;"
"Filling the air with delicious fragrance ;"
"So rich, so various, so perfuming;"
"Whither did she fly, when the appalling;"

"We could not save her

Life-she came too late-her fever fires had Burned too long-but her soul was comforted."

There is a great deal of dispute as to what poetry is, now-a-days, and perhaps, among the numerous fashionable schools, one might find a place for "The Emigrant Family." We are not sure about that matter. But we should be puzzled to find a class and order for it in our category of poetical specimens. In other words, in our way of thinking, there is little or no poetry about it.

If the "Country Sketches" were of a different character-more adapted for a magazine-we should be happy to publish them, and more like them. As it is, however, we must decline the article already received.

Mrs. Markham's History of France. New York: Harper & Brothers.

This history is prepared, or seems to have been, with the greatest care, for the use, especially, of the young. The author has formerly produced several volumes on a similar plan, and embracing the history of other countries, and they have had a wide popularity in England, if not in the United States. The History of France commences with Julius Cæsar and ends with Louis Philippe, and the author has interspersed throughout the volume appropriate questions. Besides this, the work has been prepared for the use of schools, by the addition of a map, notes and questions, and a supplementary chapter, bringing down the history to the present time, by Jacob Abbott, a very distinguished teacher in this city. The work cannot fail to be a valuable and popular one. So it appears to us. Lady Mary; or, Not of this World. By the Rev. CHARLES B. TAYLOR, M.D., author of the "Records of a Good Man's Life," "Margaret, or the Pearl," &c. Third American edition. New York: Stanford & Swords.

This book has impressed us favorably-quite favorably. It is a tale without any of the highwrought and thrilling incidents so generously scattered through our modern fashionable novels, but possessing sufficient interest for any reader whose literary taste has not become depraved and cauterized by the stimulants of Eugene Sue or Bulwer. So much for its character as a literary production. It is, in our estimation, valuable in a higher sense-as respects the moral and religious truths it inculcates and exemplifies. The great doctrines of Christianity-those which have reference to the heart as well as the head-are here beautifully and truthfully sketched, and no one can imbibe the spirit that pervades the entire volume without essential benefit.

History of Mary, Queen of Scots. By JACOB ABBOTT. With engravings. New York: Harper & brothers.

A small duodecimo volume, very neatly executed in respect of its mechanical dress, and equally well executed in respect of its literary character as a history. Mr. Abbott, we think, is peculiarly happy in efforts of this kind. His style is simple, though chaste and elegant, and he excels in nothing so much as in his sketches for the young of remarkable persons and memorable scenes.

This volume, we think, is one of a series on similar topics of history, by the same author, and issued by the same publishers.

The Person and Work of Christ. By ERNEST SARTORIUS, D.D., General Superintendent and Consistorial Director at Königsberg, Prussia. Translated by Rev. OAKMAN S. STEARNS, A.M. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln.

A work with this title emanating from such a geographical position, may very naturally be suspected as containing sentiments in regard to the person and atonement of Christ quite at variance with those held by the evangelical portion of the American church. But such is very far from the state of the case. In the main the views of this author are in the highest degree scriptural, and they are expressed in the happiest terms. The work-a small 18mo.-seems admirably adapted for the general reader.

Aids to Reflection. By SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. Edited by HENRY NELSON COLERIDGE, M.D., with a Preliminary Essay by JOHN MCVICKAR, D.D., Professor of Moral Philosophy in Columbia College. Sixth edition. New York: Stanford & Swords.

It is perhaps unnecessary to speak in praise of a work which has been so long before the public, and has shared so largely in the esteem of thinking men in England and America. But we can hardly resist an impulse to volunteer a kind word for the work, on the issue of this new edition. The publishers have brought it out in excellent style, and it is by far the best edition we have Such thoughts as those which abound in this volume are in danger, amid the profusion of works of a lighter and more ephemeral class, of being neglected and thrown into the shade. The "Aids to Reflection" are too valuable to be thus overlooked or lightly esteemed. The book should have a place in the library of every student and thinking man.

seen.

Chambers' Miscellany of Useful and Entertaining Knowledge. No. 29. Boston; Gould, Kendall & Lincoln.

This number is quite equal in excellence to the previous numbers already noticed. The entire work will be completed with the issue of the next number; and those who have the set entire will possess the best thing of its kind ever published-the best and cheapest.