WHEN the mind hath been agonized by heart piercing reflections, how sweet is a moment of calm serenity -- all nature assumes a new complexion, the trees wear a more glossy hue, the scent of the rose is more fragrant, and the earth is clothed with a more agreeable verdure -- the limpid stream murmurs delightfully along -- the extensive river pursues its course, a source of pleasurable advantage, and the broad bosom of the spacious world of waters, is sedately calm -- every magnificent building rears its head a seat of hospitality -- the neat tenements of industry, strike the view as the pleasing emblems of mediocrity, and each little cottage is the peaceful residence of contentment -- In short, every object may be said to take its colouring from the disposition which predominates in the bosom of the observer, and we are either elevated, or depressed, according to the arrangement of our own feelings -- surely then it is in our interest, as well as duty, assiduously to cultivate a benign, and equal temper, and methinks, if we reflect upon the transient duration of those events, which now so greatly agitate us, it will largely contribute to calm the soul, and it will give us to view with a proper indifference the things of time -- under a rational influence, of our spirits are illumined by the smallest ray of light, from the sun of righteousness, we shall be ready to say -- We will no more feed upon husks, we will arise and go to our Father.