The Heart's Secrets

lt ia well that no spectators are perniittec t iiitch a i-liinpse of our heart's secrets ; that the door is never opened to let any oae enter to view our unseen ghosts. Il we have our songs in the niüht, our uiidnight vigils, we care uot the world should witness our disappointments and ïuishaps. "Deep in eacli heart's undreamed, uns)ught recesses, lie buried away fond idol, luauy a treasure. Our spectres stand before us in their dead forui, and wo touch their cold lipsj thcjy are constanlly naunturiiif out tVom their graves ; wc sigh aod weep because we cannot clasp their living presence within our arma. It is better the world should not know our heart's secrets; its bitter scorn and its cold pity would neither condole nor solace us under merci less disappointment and withered hopes. We mingle in tbe whirling throng of hutaan beings, we cross the broad oceao, we travel through fureign oountries. Who reads the heart's secrets? To whoni are they revealed? They may be guessed, conjectured, suspeeted, but they are not voluntarily exposed. We prefer to shut tliem up within the recesses of our bosoms, far out of sigbt. There is an alarming difference in the death rate of the white aod colored population of tbe United States. The annual death rate among whites is 8 6-10 in every 1,000 ; of colored it is 33 3 10 in every 1,000. In Russia, all the sons and dauphters of prioces inhcrit their titles. They are, cousequently, as plentiful as sparrows. I, is said that there is a villaje where every inhabitant is a prince or princeüs Gallitzen. The tit!e of prince in Itussia is about equivalent to that of'esquire in England.