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DREAMS OF YOUTH.

"Keep true to the dream of thy youth."-Schiller.

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OUTH is the season of day-dreams. No architect's brain ever conceived such structures as its air castles; no painter's brush ever protrayed the glory with which the youthful fancy radiates the future. Hope burns brightly, and its light drives away the shadows that would cloud life's sky. It sings the song of the poet:

"All my meadows and hills are green,
And rippling waters dance between-
All my skies are rosy bright,
Laughing in triumph at yester'night.

My heart, my heart within me swells,
Panting and stirring its hundred wells,
For youth is a noble seed, that springs

Into the flower of heroes and kings."

Youth is also the season of high resolves, of lofty aspirations, of glorious longings. Seldom is there a noble and well-rounded life, but in youth was first fashioned its fair outlines. How often, during the long days of our early years, did our imagination lead us to How often explore the fairly-land of the future. from the school-room did our thoughts leave the

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