MYSTERIOUS impulse at the heart, which never suffers us to be at rest, which urges us onward as by an unseen yet irresistible law--human planets in a petty orbit, hurried forever and forever, till our course is run and our light is quenched--through the circle of a dark and impenetrable destiny! art thou not some faint forecast and type of our wanderings hereafter; of the unslumbering nature of the soul; of the everlasting progress which we are predoomed to make through the countless steps and realms and harmonies in the infinite creation? Oh, often in my rovings have I dared to dream so,--often have I soared on the wild wings of thought above the "smoke and stir" of this dim earth, and wro…
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