pervaded the blessed region; and sad was my spirit to think that it could not dwell in this Elfin Eden for ever!  A stream of melody now broke the holy quietness of the land, which resembled the aspirations of those who know neither sorrow nor sin.  The breathing instruments sighed, rather than distinctly uttered, tones, according well with those fine and delicate voices which, as they stole in gentle words upon my entranced senses, were sweet and penetrating as the aroma of unfading flowers:—­

THE ELFIN EVENING SONG.

  Farewell! farewell! departing sun! 
  Thy disk is dim, thy course is run;
  Long hast thou lit our land of flowers,—­
  Now, night must veil our hallow’d bowers.

  Farewell bright sun! farewell sweet day! 
  We mourn not that ye glide away,
  Since ev’ry fleeting hour doth bless
  Where days and dreams are numberless.

  Farewell bright sun! thou’lt wander forth
  From hence, to east, and south, and north,
  Till, weary of man’s guilt and pain,
  Thoul’t turn thee to our land again.

  Farewell sweet day! our songs shall hail
  Thine earliest dawn so pure, and pale,—­
  For shadowy night ere long must, cease
  To veil the pleasant Land of Peace.

M.L.B.

(To be continued.)

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

* * * * *

MAJOR ANDRE.

(Letter in “A Tour in North America,” dated Hudson River.)

My dear B.—­On my return to the Neptune all was in readiness to set sail.  The wind sprang up, and we were presently wafted into a broad sheet of water, “the Sea of Tappan.”  The river here suddenly expands, and for the distance of ten miles will average about four miles in breadth; in many places the water is so shallow, that the helmsman, his track being already marked out, steers by the direction of posts, stationed here and there in the river, that he may keep his vessel free from sand-banks.  The shore on each side of us presented a level, agreeably interrupted in places by the intervention of minor hills, apparently fertile, and in fine cultivation.  The villages of Tappan and Nyack, a few framed houses and huts scattered irregularly on the western side, and about one mile from the river, claim the attention of the traveller.  They are situated near the foot of a valley, and overlooked by some stupendous and abrupt ridges, whose frowning and murky heads throw a grand and solemn, but somewhat suitable, aspect upon the landscape of this memorable place.  Old Tappan, which consists of only two or three small houses, and lies a short distance up this valley, was the place selected for the execution of the once brave, noble-hearted, patriotic, and accomplished Major Andre.  I was anxious to make a pilgrimage to the grave of my unfortunate countryman; and, as the wind was scarcely sufficient to bear us up against a strong ebb-tide, I easily prevailed on the captain to anchor his charge, and allow the small boat to go on shore.