expanse of land which our country offers for this profession, and echo the sentiment of the bard of RydalMount:

"Praise to the sturdy spade,

And patient plough, and shepherd's simple crook."

FUNERAL AT NAZARETH,

IN PENNSYLVANIA.

THE Sabbath summer-sun declined
To its bright, western goal,
And o'er the green, Moravian vales
Serene enchantment stole.

'Twould seem as if the holy rest
Of heaven's anointed hour,
Here found response in every breast,
And breathed from every flower.

Then slowly from the house of God
Came forth a funeral train,
And with a measured movement trod
Along the velvet plain.

The little coffin of a babe

Borne in the midst was seen, While village children, two and two, Walked near, with serious mien.

Beside the church-yard gate they paused,
And woke an anthem's thrill,

While flutes and clarions mingle soft
With music's perfect skill.

Methought it tenderly implored,
Though not a word was said,
Room for another guest to swell
The assembly of the dead.

Then through the unclosing gate they passed,

And up the hillock wound,

Where peaceful slept their kindred clay
In consecrated ground.

Nor weed, nor straw, nor mouldering leaf
Defaced their sacred bed,

But tireless care, and chosen spot
With Nature's beauty spread.

Rich evergreens, and willows fair
In graceful ranks had grown,
And thickly planted flowerets clasped
Each horizontal stone.

And then the reverend Pastor read,
As 'mid the graves he trod,
In the deep German's solemn lore,
Words from the Book of God.

"I am the resurrection, saith
The Lord, who life can give,
And whosoe'er on me believes,
Though he were dead, shall live."

Beside the narrow pit they stood,
Grooved 'mid the verdure deep,
And while the children bent to see

Where the fair babe should sleep,

Forth burst a glorious triumph-strain,
As if from heaven it prest,
The welcome of the seraph-train
To some accepted guest:-

The welcome of the harps that praise

Jehovah, night and day,

To one that early 'scaped the snares
Of sinful, mortal clay.

Faith stood among the fragrant flowers That decked the burial-sod,

And cheerful gave the new-born soul
Back to its Father, God.

While Music with her angel-voice,
So quelled affliction's tide,
That even upon the parent's cheek
The starting tear was dried.

So, wrapped in melody and love,
That infant form was laid,
Like sculptured marble, cold and pure,
Within the hallowed shade.

And while the parting summer-sun
Sent forth a blessed ray,

They smoothed its little pillowed turf,
And calmly went their way.

Yet oft shall tender Memory touch
With light that never fails,
That simple funeral scene, amid
The green Moravian vales,

The settlements of Bethlehem and Nazareth, in Pennsylvania, inhabited by the Moravians, are truly interesting to strangers. They exhibit peculiar indications of order, industry, and comfort, and the expanse of ten miles which divides them is marked by neat and careful cultivation. The beauty of the groves was particularly obvious, kept free from underwood, and carpeted with fresh, clean turf, scarcely defaced by a scattered leaf or spray.

The banks of the Lehigh, at Bethlehem, are overshadowed by large, lofty, umbrageous trees, which add much to the romantic character of the landscape. We visited the school for girls, which enjoyed a high reputation in early times, when our country could boast but few institutions for the education of females. The different classes seemed in perfect order, and the countenances of the pupils evinced contentment and happiness. The gardens belonging to the establishment, which are pleasantly laid out, and decorated with fountains, were shown us, by an ancient guide, who said he had in youth been a soldier under Frederick the Great. The contrast must be strong indeed, between the drill of a military despot, and the blessed lore of the florist.

The spacious church at Bethlehem is adorned with the portraits of many missionaries; the sect of Moravians having very early entered the field of missionary labour, and wrought there with a tireless and selfdenying zeal.

Our approach to Nazareth, which was from the beautiful region of Wyoming, through Bear-Creek, Stoddardsville, &c., was rendered striking by passing at the hour of sunset the base of a lofty mountain, from