Notes On Literature, Science, And Art.

The " New York Mercury " states that " the prairie sections of Southern Minnesota are fast being covered with a forest growth since the stopjmge of prairie fires . Willow , wild apple , hazel , oak , and aspen trees spring up spontaneously . The farmerstoohave taken pains to cultivate

, , trees , and groves have become so numerous that they are never lost sight of in travelling . " Resuming our glance at " Las Memorias and other Poems , " from which I gave a few beautiful extracts in the January

number of the MASONIC MAGAZINE , we find , in the poem entitled " Life ' s Regrets , " the following moralising in the true spirit of the Craft , which teaches us how to live and how to die : —

" How short at best this life of ours , When e ' en its longest years are told 'Twas youth for us but yesterday , To-day we ' re growing very old ! Amid the hurrying scenes of Time , Amid the rapid rush of years ,

Amid the vanish'd dreams of youth , Amid all human smiles and tears ; Amid each care , amid each cross , Amid the grief we all must bear , A mid the burdens of our lot , Amid the toils we all must share ;

We see , as day succeeds to clay , And years are fading one by one , How many are our heart ' s regrets , Before the sands of life be run . * * * * Whate ' er our place in life has been

, With it we may be well content , Taking alike in faith and trust Whatever God has sent . Yet better far we might have been , And wiser far in every way , How greatly have improved the hours ,

Those golden hours now past away . How little , after all , of good Has this our buried past to show j How idly have we sought to do Life ' s daily duties here below !

Oh , yes ! when memory to-day Recalls each scene of peace and strife , We see , and say , how better far We might have spent our earthly life . " Passing by "Fragrant Recollections " aud "Vitse Vicissitudines" ( the latter a

good English poem with one of those forei gn titles , with which the author is , as I think , mistakenly enamoured ) , we come to a Keat ' s-like p iece on " Sympathy , " which , being short as well as sweet , I give entire : —

" How wondrous are our Sympathies to-day For others . How oft there meets us in the way Some pleasant face , or form , which lingers still With us , amid all hourly good and ill . And yet we strangers are , and ever will

In earthly life , nor evermore again Shall we behold that bri g ht and sunny face , Or watch , admiring , all that pleasant grace , Yet , still the smile we see again to-day , Though we ourselves are loitering far away That happy face is gleaming like a star

Upon us now , though distant leagues afar . Who can explain that strange mysterious law , By which some word we heard , some face

we saw , Exerts its empire o ' er our musing mind , Filling our thoughts with visions soft and kind ] Oh , who can venture now to seek to trace That solemn mystery of our mortal race 1 By which some gentle smile , a kindly voice , Can bid our inmost heart and trust rejoice , And still can charm , can soften , can subdue Our wayward hearts , though absent from

our . All we can say , and all that Time reveals , In what the lips may tell , or heart conceals , Is , that there is a golden chain of Love Which links this earth to happier realms above ; And still o'er us that gentle influence

reigns , To soothe our pressing griefs and weary pains j Binding us still to one another here , With sympathies undying , true and dear , And joins us still—parts of a mighty

whole—Alike both heart to heart and soul to soul , Until we find that God to man below , To lessen sorrow , lighten the weight of woe , Has given us Sympathies which never cease To bless us here , and still with years increase , Witnessing ever that Life ' s all-fleeting way Is but the shadow of a better day . "