4.

1

en not sail yet at inlet or island;

t for the beacon steer-straight for the highland all thy canvas on - cut through the foam

n, cast anchor now! Heaven is thy home!"

MRS. SOUTHEY.

XLI. -THE POOR WEEP UNHEEDED.

ervation is more common, and at the same time more at one half of the world are ignorant how the other he misfortunes of the great are held up to engage our e enlarged upon in tones of declamation; and the

upon to gaze at the noble sufferers: the great, essure of calamity, are conscious of several others with their distress; and have, at once, the comtion and pity.

nothing magnanimous in bearing misfortunes with n the whole world is looking on; men in such cir11 act bravely, even from motives of vanity: but veil of obscurity, can brave adversity; who, withencourage, acquaintances to pity, or even without te his misfortunes, can behave with tranquillity e, is truly great; whether peasant or courtier, he ration, and should be held up for our imitation

e slightest inconveniences of the great are magniities, while tragedy mouths out their sufferings in of eloquence, the miseries of the poor are entirely and yet some of the lower ranks of people undergo rdships in one day than those of a more exalted In their whole lives.

conceivable what difficulties the meanest of our common Sa rs and soldiers endure without murmuring or regret; without passionately declaiming against Providence, or calling their fellows to be gazers on their intrepidity. Every day is to them a day of misery; and yet they entertain their hard fate without repining.

5. With what indignation do I hear an Ovid, a Cicero," or

ΕΙ

a Rabutin, complain of their misfortunes and hardships, whose greatest calamity was that of being unable to visit a certain spot of earth, to which they had foolishly attached an idea of happiness!

6. Their distresses were pleasures, compared to what many of the adventuring poor every day endure without murmuring. They ate, drank, and slept; they had slaves to attend them; and were sure of subsistence for life; while many of their fellow-creatures are obliged to wander without a friend to comfort or assist them, and even without shelter from the severity of the season. GOLDSMITH.

This incident, so strongly illustrating the power of memory and association in the lower animals, is not a fiction. I heard it many years ago in the Island of Mull, from the family to whom the bird belonged.

1. THE deep affections of the breast,
That Heaven to living things imparts,
Are not exclusively possessed

By human hearts.

2. A parrot from the Spanish Main,

Full young and early caged, came o’er
With bright wings to the bleak domain
Of Mulla's shore.

3. The spicy groves where he had won
His plumage of resplendent hue,
His native fruits, and skies, and sun,
He bade adieu !

4. For these he changed the smoke of turf,
A heathery land and misty sky,
And turned on ocks and raging surf
His golden eye.

5. But, petted in our climate cold,

6. At last, when, blind and seeming dumb,
He scolded, laughed, and spoke no more,
A Spanish stranger chanced to come
To Mulla's shore.

7. He hailed the bird in Spanish speech;
The bird in Spanish speech replied,
Flapped round his age with joyous screech,
Dropped down and died.

CXLIII. THE TWO WAYS.

CAMPBELL.

1. In a village on the Rhine, a schoolmaster was one day teaching in his school; and the sons and daughters of the villagers sat around listening with pleasure, for his teaching was healthful and kindly. He was speaking of the good and bad conscience, and of the still voice of the heart. After he had finished speaking, he asked his pupils, "Who among you is able to tell me a parable on this matter?" One of the boys stood forth, and said, "I think I can tell a parable, but I do not know whether it be right."

And

2. "Speak in your own words," answered the master. the boy began: "I compare the calmness of a good conscience, and the disquietude of an evil one, to two ways on which I walked once. When the enemy passed through our village, the soldiers carried off by force my dear father and our horse. When my father did not come back, my mother and all of us wept and mourned bitterly, and she sent me to the town to inquire for my father. I went; but late at night I came back sorrowfully, for I had not found my father.

3. "It was a dark night in autumn. The wind roared and howled in the oaks and firs, and between the rocks; the nightravens and owls were shrieking and hooting. And I thought in my soul how we had lost my father, and of the misery of my mother when she should see me return alone. A strange trembling seized me in the dreary night, and each rustling leaf terrified

me.

Then I thought to myself, 'Such must be the feelings of a man's heart who has a bad conscience."

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4. "My children," said the master, "would you like to walk in the darkness of night, seeking in vain for your dear father, and hearing naught but the roar of the storm, and the screams of the beasts of prey ?"—"O, no!" exclaimed all the children, shuddering. Then the boy resumed his tale, and said: "Another time I went the same way with my sister; we had been fetching many nice things from town for a feast which our father was secretly preparing for our mother, to surprise her the next day. It was late when we returned, but it was in spring; the sky was bright and clear, and all was so calm that we could hear the gentle murmur of the rivulet by the way, and on all sides the nightingales were singing.

5. "I was walking hand in hand with my sister; but we were so delighted that we hardly liked to speak. Then our good father came to meet us. Now I thought again to myself, 'Such must be the state of the man who has done much good."" When the boy had finished his tale, the master looked kindly at the children, and they said, unanimously, "Yes, we will strive to become good!" KRUMMACHER.

CXLIV. MISCELLANEOUS EXTRACTS.

1. THE EFFECT OF UNBELIEF. - Try to conceive a man without the ideas of God, eternity, freedom, will, absolute truth, of the good, the true, the beautiful, the infinite, an animal, endowed with a memory of appearances and facts, might remain; but the man will have vanished, and you have instead a creature more subtle than any beast of the field; upon the belly must it go, and dust must it eat, all the days of its life! When once infidelity can persuade men that they shall die like beasts, they will soon be brought to live like beasts also. - Anon.

2. YOUTHFUL NEG ECT. - If it should ever fall to the lot of youth to peruse these pages, 'et such readers remember that it is with the deepest regret that I recollect, in my manhood, the opportunities of learning which I neglected in n y youth; that

through every part of my literary career I have felt pinched and hampered by my own ignorance; and I would this moment give half the reputation I have had the good fortune to acquire, if by doing so I could res the remaining part upon a sound foundation of learning and science. - Sir Walter Scott.

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men

3. EDUCATION. "Without education," says Luther, are as bears and wolves." Is it not the clearest duty, prescribed by nature herself, under silent but real and awful penalties, on governing persons in every society, to see that the people, so far as possible, are taught; that wherever a citizen is born some chance be offered him of becoming "a man," and not “a bear or wolf;" and more care be had that the intellect of such citizen, which is the sacred lamp of heaven, and (in the truest sense) God's own "revelation" to him, be not left smothered under dark ignorances, sensualities, and sordid obstructions, but made to shine for him, and guide his steps toward a good goal? This is forever the duty of governors and persons of authority in human societies.-Carlyle.

4. INDUSTRY. If industry is no more than habit, it is at lcast an excellent one. If you ask me which is the real hereditary sin of human nature, do you imagine I shall answer pride, or luxury, or ambition, or egotism? No; I shall say indolence. Who conquers indolence, will conquer all the rest. All good principles must stagnate without mental activity. — Zimmerman.

5. LITERARY VANITY.-There is much knowledge of human nature, as well as keen satire, in the tale which Addison tells of the atheist, who, bewailing on his death-bed the mischief his works would do after he was gone, quickly repented of his repentance when his spiritual adviser unhappily sought to alleviate his grief by assuring him that his arguments were so weak, and his writings so little known, that he need be under no apprehensions. "The dying man had still so much of the frailty of an author in him, as to be cut to the heart with these consolations; and, without answering the good man, asked his friends where they had picked up such a blockhead; and whether they thought him a proper person to attend one in his condition." - Edinburgh Review.