Clouds weave the SUMMER into the season of AUTUMN and YOUTH rises from dashed hopes, into the stature of a MAN. DREAMS OF MANHOOD. T AUTUMN. HIERE are those who shudder at the approach of Autumn; and who feel a light grief stealing over their spirits, like an October haze, as the evening shadows slant sooner, and longer, over the face of an ending August day. But is not Autumn the Manhood of the year ? Is it not the ripest of the seasons? Do not proud flowers blossom-the golden rod, the orchis, the dahlia, and the bloody cardinal of the swamp-lands? The fruits too are golden, hanging heavy from the tasked trees. The fields of maize show weeping spindles, and broad rustling leaves, and ears, half glowing with the crowded corn; the September wind whistles over their thick-set ranks, with whispers of |