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know. And are you ready? You are young; so was he, just in the prime of life, only nineteen: but God required his soul; and who can tell but that, while I am writing this, death is hastening to your dwelling, to snatch away a fond brother, or sister, or, perhaps, yourself. Oh! seek the Lord while young; call upon him while he is near; seek him while he is to be found; wait not another day: for bright crowns are in glory for children that love the Lord
never more to meet again on earth. Soon after he packed up his box. We shook hands, and he said, " Good-bye, God bless you!" He mounted the coach, and, in a few days, reached home, but only to die. He very soon became much worse, and took to his bed. Not many days after his father died. He was so ill that for two days he did not know his loss, and they were afraid to tell him. When he at last found it out, he lifted up his hands with devout earnestness, and ex--palms of victory and harps of praise; claimed, "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." Next day he asked his mother, if she thought he should soon follow his dear father? And, as it was her opinion he would, she replied, she feared such would be the He told her he had also thought so; and added, he trusted it would be well with him whether he lived or whe-viour's blood; having forsaken all evil ther he died, for he had given his heart to God. What a happy assurance it is to feel our hearts to be in the hand of God, under his keeping! Then will the solemn prospect of death and eternity be sweet to our minds.
and for their companions saints and angels, singing, "Glory! glory!" Oh! dear children, hasten to obtain a crown, a palm, and a harp; forsake sin now; listen and attend to your teacher's voice and the voice of God;-now, then, at whatever hour you may be summoned to God, you will be ready, being cleansed from all your sins in the Sa
company; having taken the cross of Christ, and followed him; having new hearts and right spirits. Yes, you will be ready to enter into the joys of heaven, and to dwell with Jesus for evermore. Jesus has said, "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the
This was his last day here; for at night, while the family slept, he apparently breathed his last in sleep; fall-kingdom of heaven." Oh! then aning into the arms of his heavenly friend, Christ, his spirit rose above, and met again his father's, who was now clothed afresh, singing with the redeemed around the throne. His lifeless corpse was laid beside his father's, until the day arrived when they both were laid in their last resting placethe dark cold grave.
Yes, and you, dear children, one day must part from all you hold dear, to be laid in the grave. How soon will it be? Perhaps to-morrow, for aught you
swer, dear children: "Behold, we come unto thee, for thou art the Lord our God. To whom can we go but unto thee, for thou hast the words of eternal life?" May these be the sincere and abiding resolutions of every youthful heart that may see these lines! Ilfracombe.
A VERY small and elegant moth, attracted by the candles, has this moment descended on the sheet, within an inch
of our pen-(we were in the very act of committing to paper some sage considerations on the departure of another summer)—and with the light stroke of his wing, has broken our thread of thought. Will the reader excuse if it break his also?
talking to you, you are so extremely ignorant, moth."
With a few variations, how suitable would be such an address to some things that are not moths! And to beings a little higher than ourselves in the scale of reason, how similar to those of the moth must appear the illusions of men! How many of the objects of our ardent pursuit are as destitute of intrinsic excellence, as empty of happiness, as we know the glare of the light to be in which an insect so joyously flutters its wings! It does not, indeed, require the intellect of an angel to know this; experience teaches it, at last, to the dullest scholars. Children can laugh at the folly of an insect; youths soon learn to ridicule the toys and sports of children; men smile at the vanities of youth; wise men at the pleasures of weak men, and not seldom at their own; while angels look down with surprise and pity on all-smiling most at the mistakes of the man, and least at those of the moth!
The delicacy and perfection of its form; the exquisite lace-work of its airy wings; its swift and noiseless movements; a body nearly as ethereal as if it were a soul; its independence, its innocence, awaken our admiration. Who can guess what are its imaginings concerning the extensive plain on which it has just arrived? Is it a field of dazzling light, an enchanted region of pleasure and brightness? He flutters his wings as though his dreams of joy were at length realized. From the dun shades of the evening without, he has suddenly launched into a new world of magic splendour, illumined with radiant suns. How little does he think (of this, at least, we may be sure), that this shining plain is no other than a sheet of foolscap!-that those glorious suns are inglorious can. Fortunately enough for our moral dles! Such are the illusions of moths! the little hero of the piece has this It would be very desirable, some moment expired in the flame of the young reader may think, if it were candle, and that in spite of the most possible to undeceive him; and suppos-priseworthy exertions on our part to ing him capable of understanding it, deter him from the rash adventure. to rectify all his mistakes, by address- In vain we whisked our quill in every ing him in some such language as this: dissuasive attitude, (an employment, You are only a moth; and you have by the way, to which we are but too no idea what insignificant things moths much accustomed,) he was resolved; are! You know nothing at all; you and could he have given utterance to can't imagine what an astonishing his feelings, no doubt he would have number of things there are that you expressed his certain persuasion that have not even heard of. We think it must be a desirable and a delightful nothing of you; we are really of im- thing to sport in that elegant flame. portance, but you are of no importance, Who can witness this common you are only an insect. You some- tastrophe, without observing the ana times do us mischief by eating holes in logy, and reading the oft-told moral? our clothes; and very tiresome it is Even if it had not scorched a single that such little creatures as you should feather, if he could have lived there, be able to do us mischief. Having this still, we could assure him, he could not opportunity, I must desire you not to find happiness in a candle. He would do so any more: for what you eat is have been a thousand times more comnot at all nice-it is cloth, not food; fortable as well as more safe, hid in why should you eat cloth? And as to the dark folds of the curtain, or fixed the place that you now are upon, it is within the protection of some broad nothing in the world but a sheet of shadow on the wall, or in any of the paper that a person is writing upon; natural and customary haunts of his but you don't know what writing species. So is it with all unsanctioned means, I dare say: indeed, it is no use pleasures; even if they were not dan
gerous, they would be disappointing ;— but we know they are both the one and the other.
How quickly was that most complete and delicate machine destroyed! an engine which not the united saga. city and ingenuity of man could restore! No wonder that so fine and fragile a creature should be liable to swift destruction; but let not the strong glory in their strength, for, behold, "we are crushed before the moth." JANE TAYLOR.
slender stems of the leaves became trunks of so many stately cedars; the threads in the middle seemed columns of massy structure, supporting at the top their several ornaments; and the narrow spaces between were enlarged in walks, parterres, and terraces. On the polished bottoms of these, brighter than Parian marble, walked in pairs, alone or in larger companies, the winged inhabitants; these from little dusky flies, for such only the naked eye would have shown them, were raised to glorious, glittering animals, stained with living purple, and with a glossy gold,
SPLENDOUR AND FELICITY OF that would have made all the labour
SIR JOHN HILL has given the
of the loom contemptible in the comparison. I could, at leisure, as they follow-walked together, admire their elegant limbs, their velvet shoulders, and their silken wings; their backs vying with the empyrean in its blue; and their eyes, each formed of a thousand others, outglittering the little planes on a bril
almost for admiration. I could observe them here singling out their favourite females; courting them with the music of their buzzing wings, with little songs formed for their little organs, leading them from walk to walk among the perfumed shades, and pointing out to their taste the drop of liquid nectar just bursting from some vein within the living trunk-here were the perfumed groves, the more than mystic shades of the poet's fancy realizedhere the happy lovers spent their days in joyful dalliance; or, in the triumph of their little hearts, skipped after one another from stem to stem among the painted trees, or winged their short flights to the close shadow of some broader leaf, to revel undisturbed in the heights of all felicity."
"The principal flower in an elegant bouquet was a carnation; the fragrance of this led me to enjoy it frequently and near. The sense of smell-liant, above description, and too great ing was not the only one affected on these occasions. While that was satiated with the powerful sweet, the ear was constantly attacked by an extremely soft and agreeable murmuring sound. It was easy to know that some animal within the covert must be the musician, and that the little noise must come from some little creature suited to produce it. I instantly distended the lower part of the flower, and, placing it in a full light, could discover troops of little insects frisking with wild jollity among the narrow pedestals that supported its leaves, and the little threads that occupied its centre. What a fragrant world for their habitation! What a perfect security from all annoyance in the dusky husk that surrounded the scene of action. Adapting a microscope to take in at one view the whole base of the flower, I gave myself an opportunity of contemplating what they were about, and this for many days together, without giving them the least disturbance. Thus I could discover their economy, their passions, and their enjoyments. The microscope on this occasion had given what nature seemed to have denied to the objects of contemplation. The base of the flower extended itself under its influence to a vast plain; the
ECHOES reside for the most part in caverns, in grottos, and in ruined abbeys. They reverberate in the areas of antique halls, in the windings of long passages, in the aisles of arched cathedrals, and, not unfrequently, among mountain ranges and the icebergs of the Arctic Seas. Echoes are said to have multiplied every sound in the
grotto of Delphi, famous for its temple and oracles; they increased the veneration and the curiosity which prompted thousands to visit the temple of Apollo, and, doubtless, aided the deceptions which were practised by the priests who ministered in that magnificent sanctuary of heathen oracles.. There can be little doubt that the aid of echoes has frequently been employed in different ages by designing priests and other impostors, to deceive the ignorant, and to promote the designs of superstition and divination. The following are some remarkable echoes which have been noted by various writers :
In the sepulchre of Metella, the wife of Crassus, there was an echo which repeated five different times, in five different keys, what a man said. At a tower in Cyricus, there is said to be an echo where the sound is repeated seven times. At Woodstock there was an echo which returned seventeen syllables during the day, and twenty during night. One of the finest echoes we read of is that mentioned by Barthias, which repeated seventeen times the words a man uttered. This echo was on the banks of the Rhine, between Coblentz and Bingen. Whereas in other echoes the sound is not heard till some time after hearing the word spoken, or the notes sung; in this, the person who speaks or sings is scarcely heard at all, but the repetition most clearly, and always in surprising varieties, the echo seeming sometimes to approach nearer, and sometimes to be farther off; sometimes the voice is heard very distinctly, and sometimes Scarcely at all. One hears only one voice, and another several; one hears echo on the right, and another on the left; and, in general, the responses were loud and distinct, clear and various. In the cemetery of the Abercorn family, at Paisley, in the county of Renfrew, there is an echo exceedingly striking and romantic. When the door of the chapel is closed with any degree of violence, the reverbera tions are equal to the sounds of thunder; breathe a single note of music, and the tone ascends gradually, with a multitude of echoes, till it dies in
soft and bewitching numbers. At Milan, in Italy, is an echo which reiterates the report of a pistol fifty-six times; and if the report is very loud, upwards of sixty reiterations may be counted. The first twenty echoes are rather distinct; but as the noise seems to fly away, and to answer at a greater distance, the reiterations are so doubled that they can scarcely be counted. A singular echo is also heard in a grotto near Castle Combu, in Ireland. No reverberation is heard till the listener is within fifteen or sixteen feet of the extremity of the grotto, at which place a delightful echo enchants the ear. On the banks of the Lake of Killarney, there is an echo called the Eagle's Nest. This celebrated rock sends forth the most fascinating repercussions. Sound a French or bugle horn, and echoes equal to a hundred instruments answer to the call; report a single cannon, and the loudest thunder reverberates from the rock, and dies in endless peals along the distant mountains.
LETTERS OF THE REV. S. DYER
From his Memoir, by Rev. Mr. Davies
remember the pain when your teeth were
pulled out. Well, everlasting life means, no more pain. Again, it means, no more tears. You know sometimes you cry because you are afraid that if you die God will send you to hell; and if papa and
mamma were to go and leave you, I am sure you would cry very much; and sometimes you cry when you are hurt. But everlasting life means, that God will wipe away all our tears, and we shall never cry any more. Again, it means, no more trembling for sin. You know you told me one night that you trembled for sin; now this is very right, because Jesus Christ tells us to repent, and trembling for sin is to begin to repent. Oh! if my little darling boy repents of his sins, this will make his papa and mamma's hearts very glad. But then we do not like trembling; and so everlasting life means, no more trembling. Again, it means, no more separation. You see papa is obliged to leave you sometimes; but you would like me to be always at home. In heaven I shall not be obliged to leave you.
But everlasting life means, also, to be like Jesus Christ, and to be with Jesus Christ; and to wear a crown which Jesus Christ will put upon our heads; and to sit down with Jesus Christ upon his throne; and to listen to Jesus Christ's kind voice; and to see Jesus Christ's beautiful face; and to wear the beautiful robe which Jesus Christ will give to us; and to hear the angels sing, and to sing too. Oh! my darling boy, I do hope you will pray to God to make you fit for heaven; because sometimes I feel almost as if I should be sorry in heaven if my little children were not there too.
The little sister which you never saw, she knows what everlasting life is, because she has gone to enjoy it. I am glad she is in heaven; but papa and mamma were very sorry to lose her, because when she died we had no little baby left, for you were not then born; but now we have got three more little children. I am glad she is gone; because, perhaps, if she was now on earth, she might be a naughty girl, and not pray, and make me very sorry. But you know in heaven she cannot be naughty, and so she is safe for
When I think about little Maria, who is buried at Penang, then I think I should
like next year to go back to Penang, with mamma, and you, and sisters; and I should like for us all to live there; and then, when all our work on earth is done, to die there, and to be buried in the mis sionary grave, close by your little sister. Now I hope you will tell Burella and Maria something about everlasting life; and perhaps you could sometimes take them into my little study, and pray for them, that God would make them also fit for heaven. I am, my dear Boy, Your affectionate Papa,
MY DEAR LITTLE LILY,-When God made you sick of fever, I thought that perhaps God was going to take you out of my garden, and to put you into his garden above the sky; but as he has made you nearly well again, I think perhaps he will let you stop in my garden a little longer. You know I call my family my garden, and mamma is the rose-the sweetest rose, because she is the sweetest flower in my garden; Samuel shall be the violet, because I am so very fond of that flower; you shall be the lily of the valley, because I want you to be humble; and Maria shall be the cowslip, because that is very useful. My little tulip God has taken and put into his garden above, because it was a very beautiful flower, and perhaps if it had stopped longer in my garden, papa and mamma might have been too fond of it. But when God is pleased to take my rose, and my violet, and my lily, and my cowslip, and put them into his garden above the skies, you will then see my little tulip, and you shall all be more sweet, more lovely, more beautiful, more humble, and more useful than while you are in my garden here. I am very glad God has made you well again; and I like you to love Jesus Christ more than me. Your affectionate Papa, SAMUEL DYER.