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 l had dream which was not all dream.

 Byron.

 Modern philosophy, anon,

 $ Will, at the rate she's rushing on, = Yoke lightning to her railroad car, 2 And, posting like q shooting star,

 Swift as a solar radiation,

 E Ride the grand circuit of creation

 .Anon. # ] have bilious friend, who is a great sadmrer and imltator of Lord Byron; that is he effects misanthrope, masticates tobaeco, has his shirts made without col lars, and writes poetry witha glass of gin slnd water before him. His gin though Jar from the first rate, is better than his poetry; the latter, indeed being worse than that of many authors of the pres lent day, and scarcely fit for an album; However, he doesnot thinkso, andmakes &l greatquantity. 1t his lodgings a few evenings ago, among other morbid pro- Sdluetions, he read me one entitled 'Steams' written in very blank verse, and evidently modelled after the noble 4poet2s ss Darkness. in which he takes a bifd's eye view of the world two or three centuries hence, describes things in gen. seral, and comes to a conclusion with, s. Steam, was the uoiyesep Whether. at was the fumes arising from this piece oi written vapof, or whether had un- consciously imbibed more hollands than my temperate habits allow of, l cannot say, but certainly retired to bed like 0thello, "perplexed in the extreme?' There was no z dreanless sleep for me that night, and Queen Mab drove full gallop through every nook and cranny of my brain. Strange and fantastical wis 1ons .llloated before me, till at length Heame one with all the force and clear &ness of railty.

 thought stood upon gentle swell ofground, and loolxeddown on the scene beneath me. It was a pleasant sight, and yet stranger might have passed 1t by unheeded; but to me itwas as the green spot in the desert, for there re- cogaized the haunts of my boyhood.- There was the wild common on which 1 had so often sealnpered ssfrae mornin sun till dine" slSirted by the old wood, through which the burn stole tiazling to the neighboring river. There was the little ivy covered church with its mod est spire and immoveable weathercock, and clustering around lay theyillage that knew contained so many kind and low ing hearts. All looked just as 1t did on the summer morning when left it, and went wandering over this weary world. To sae the very trees possessed an indi- viduality; the branches of the old oak (there was but one@ seemed to nod fa- mlliarly towards me, the music of the ripping water fell pleasantly on my ear, and the passing breeze rnurnured of s'home, sweet home.p The balmy air was laden with the hum of unseen in sects, and filled with the fragrance of a thousand common herbs ard flowers and to my eyes the place looked pretti- CT and pleasanter than any they have since rested on. As gazed, the swo- manish moisture made dimmYsight, and felt that yearning of the heart which every man who has q soul that feels- let him go where he will--on once more beholding the spot where the only pure, uasullied part of his existence passed away. Suddenly the scene changed. The Tf'ile quiet smiling village vanished, and busy crowded city oc- cupied its place. The wood was gone the brook dried up, and the common cut to pieces and crowded with a kind O iron gangways. Hooked upon the sur rounding country, if country it could be called, whereyegetable nature had ceas ed to exist. The neat trim gardens the verdant lawns and swelling uplands the sweet scented meadows and waving corn-helds were all swept away, ant fruit, and flowers, and herbage. appear ed, to be things uncared for and un known. Houses and factories, and turn bikes and railroads, were scattered al around, and along the latter, as if pro pelled by some unseen, internal power nonstrous machines flew withinconceiy able swiftness.

 People were crowding and iosttlinI each other onall sides. 1 mingled witt shem, but they were not.like those ] ha formerly known-they walked and talk sd, and transacted business of all Il iiI kind