By those, who in their turn shall follow them. To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night, BRYANT. 4 GOODNESS OF THE DEITY, DISPLAYED IN THE BEAUTY OF CREATION. WERE all the interesting diversities of colour and form to disappear, how unsightly, dull, and wearisome, would be the aspect of the world! The plea-' sure conveyed to us by the endless variety with which these sources of beauty are presented to the eye, is so much a thing of course, and exists so much without intermission, that we scarcely think either of their nature, their number, or the great proportion which they constitute of the whole mass of our enjoyment. But were an inhabitant of this country to be removed from its delightful scenery, to the midst of an Arabian desert, a boundless expanse of sand, a waste spread with uniform desolation, enlivened by the murmur of no stream, and cheered by the beauty of no verdure; although he might live in a palace, and riot in splendour and luxury, he would, no doubt, soon find life a dull wearisome round of existence, and sigh for the hills and valleys of his native land, the brooks and rivers, the living lustre of the spring, and the rich glories of the autumn. The ever-varying brilliancy and grandeur of the landscape, and the magnificence of the sky, sun, moon, and stars, enter more extensively into the enjoyment of mankind than we perhaps can possibly apprehend. This beauty and splendour of the objects around us, it is ever to be remembered, is not necessary to their existence, nor to what we are accustomed to consider their usefulness. It is, therefore, to be regarded as a source of pleasure gratuitously dispensed to us, and in this light is peculiarly affecting as a testimony of the Divine Goodness. LINES. THE following lines were found in a case containing a skeleton, sent to the Royal Academy, London. It is believed they were written and deposited there by one of the students. Behold this ruin! 'twas a skull, Once of ethereal spirit full : This narrow cell was life's retreat; The space was thought's mysterious seat. Beneath this mouldering canopy If with no lawless fire it gleamed, But through the dew of kindness beamed, Here, in this silent cavern, hung The ready, swift, and tuneful tongue; If falsehood's honey it disdained, And where it could not praise was chained; If bold in virtue's cause it spoke, Yet gentle concord never broke: Say-did these fingers delve the mine, Avails it whether bare or shod, |